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t00turnttrauma · 1 year

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sincerely yours

Part Three: A Royal Engagement

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: mentions of narcotic abuse

It had been a few weeks since Valerie accepted Josh’s proposal. You continued working on the garden, using it to avoid everything happening in the palace. Now, instead of using the speaker, you switched to earbuds. They still helped you pass the time but they kept you guarded from the world. Josh tried to strike up conversation a few times but he’d quickly noticed that you weren’t listening. The apology played in your head. No one would accept you as Queen consort, and that stung the most.

“Rise and shine princess!” Sam shouted, ripping the sheets from Jake’s bed. He should have been shocked when he found his bed empty. The youngest prince was far too used to finding an empty room so early in the morning. Jake often went missing for the night, sometimes for days.

He sighed, beginning to kick the laundry strewn around the room towards the bathroom. After the heirs reached 15, respectively, the housekeepers were only allowed to do the heavy cleaning once a week. Smaller tasks like collecting laundry and making the bed daily was the responsibility of the prince or princess. Sam was about to open the bathroom door to toss the old jeans and button ups into the hamper, but he was beaten by his older brother who used his free hand to towel his hair.

“Oh,” Sam said softly, shocked that his brother was awake at the ass crack of dawn. “Breakfast will be ready soon.”

Jake nodded, walking past his brother and to his dresser. “Thanks.”

Still just as confused and shocked at how calm he is, Sam finished his task, nearly slipping on the puddle of water Jake left on the floor. “How have you been?”

Jake shrugged, rolling a stick of deodorant beneath his arms. “Fine.”

“Are one word answers your thing now?”

“Yes.” Jake gave a cheeky smile, grabbing clothes from his wardrobe. “Now get out before I drop my towel, snot bucket.”

Feeling a twinge of normalcy, Sam couldn’t help but smile at the insult. “There’s the brother I know and lo- I’ll make sure to save you a blueberry scone.”

Jake flipped the lock to his room. Josh visited him the night before. Jake was lying on his bed, trying to fall asleep but the thumping from Sam’s room made it difficult. Josh walked in, turning his light on harshly.

“Jake, wake up.”

“Do you think I can sleep with the lovebirds next door?” Jake snipped, sitting up in his bed. Sam and Daniel had been an echo of giggles and praises all night.

Josh chuckled. “Yeah, they made up.”

“I gathered that.”

“You need to grow up. All of this partying bullshit is ridiculous. Do you really think you’re going to get anywhere?” The serious edge in Josh’s tone were his years upon years of teachings coming through.

“Where else is there to go, Joshua?”

“That’s the point, Jacob. You have all of it and you can’t smile for a few pictures and show up to places that we ask you to?” Josh placed a hand on his hip. This is not how he expected this night to go.

“Like some trained dog?” Jake scoffed. “This is exactly why I challenge the system. I can’t drink without a camera in my face. I can’t sit on the balcony without some creep with a telescope hanging from a tree waiting for me to screw-“

“The system? That system is our mother who does everything in her power to keep your name out of the mud. The same woman who cries when she sees you coming home drunk!” The future king sighed deeply. “I don’t want to fight anymore. I just came to ask you a favor.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Yell at me and then ask for a fav-“

“Help me out here,” Josh pleaded. “This engagement is the biggest thing to happen in years. I just need you by my side to… put out a good image and at least make it seem like we’re on good terms.”

Jake clenched his jaw. “You have my word, brother.”

You dug through the grass, ripping up the stubborn weeds. The garden was proving more difficult as the project developed. The strong voice of Patsy Cline floats through the speakers, giving you a calming ambiance. She sang of heartbreak and missing out on relationships. While she wasn’t your favorite, the lyrics hit hard today. You sang along, hoping to get your mind off of the summer sun beating down on your back.

“If you love me half as much as I love you/ You wouldn’t worry me half as much as you do,” you sang, “You’re nice to me when there’s no one else around/ You only build me up to let me down.”

You sat back, grabbing the bucket of yard waste. The latest letter had you feeling more angry than heartbroken.

Y/N,

I have it all, Y/N. My home is my hidden treasure chest. There's grand pianos and everything I could ever ask for. Acres upon acres of land that we plant flowers and place statues of our history and hold celebrations. I know that you will never be queen if you and I decide to marry. But for you, I'd leave it all. My family fear that I'll lose so much if I take your hand but, for you, I'd leave it all.

Sincerely yours, PJ

The idea that Josh wrote you these letters, but continued to make the next steps with Valerie made you feel sick. While you worked on the garden, Valerie was inside taking lessons on courtesy and manners. Etiquette lessons are the foundation of any royal family. Despite not being in the family, you had your own lessons. You spent ages learning the different types of forks and how to eat without your back leaving contact with the chair.

The media storm started the moment the official announcement was made. It was the first marriage between senior members of the family since the King and Queen. Josh underestimated the insanity that would surround his news, completely overwhelmed with the crowds and constant requests for interviews. Every news outlet wanted to have the first interview. Valerie’s social media pages saw a jump in following before they were taken down. Custom to big announcements, like the birth of a child or engagement, there were photo ops and walkabouts and interviews given to create a bridge between the royals and the people and to give them time to warm up to the new addition. The family had been out of the house for most of the week, greeting the hordes of people who gathered outside of the home to see them.

“Y/N, get dressed,” Sam said, catching you in the hall. You started taking breaks from gardening in the middle of the day when the sun was the strongest. “Shower and then meet us on the balcony on the east wing. There’s no rush. There will be cameras.”

You did as told, finding a dress laid out on your bed when you came out of the shower. After quickly blow drying your hair, you met the family in the east wing of the palace. You looked around for a letter, wondering if the dress meant something. After drying your hair as fast as you could, you found the right shoes and rushed to the east end.

The Queen adjusted her son’s clothes, smiling widely at Valerie. “This is it. The tabloids know and the entire world is waiting to see you two, Josh, Valerie, as a couple.” She motioned for Sam. “Sam, Daniel, you’ll step up first. Hopefully the media will get a clue.”

Veronica stepped forward. “Then me.”

Jake nodded. “I’m next. With Y/N?”

The Queen looked around, her eyes landing on you. “Actually, Y/N. I was going to pair you with Jake, but that may send the wrong message. Would you feel comfortable going alone?” You nodded. “Good, then Josh and Val and then Kelly and I. Y/N goes last and you’ll stand wherever you find room.”

Edward jumped in. “It’s time, your majesty.”

Sam and Danny stepped out first, the crowd exploding into cheers at seeing the youngest prince with what the media calls his doting best friend and not long term boyfriend. Ronnie went next, waving lightly before stepping to the side. The camera flashes weren’t as blinding in the day. Jake went next, sunglasses on his nose and smiling. The crowd somehow became louder. A drone whirred in the air, capturing photos from up close. Josh offered Valerie his arm as the king and queen stepped out. They went last, standing front and center. The family posed, waving at their country and the global news companies. You stood in the back, a little shell shocked at the gaggle of screaming fans. Finally pushed to stand on the balcony, you waved down at the crowd.

Sam pulled you towards him, having you stand closer. “Just a few more minutes,” he mumbled. “Media circus at its finest.”

Lunch was served in the main hosting room, housing everyone who had come. Valerie’s family arrived, meeting the royals. You listened from the sidelines, much more interested in the greenhouse that had been built in one of the more private parts of the grounds. It was fairly new, the panes almost clear and clean. You wanted to ask Josh if it was due to his new interest but he seemed more occupied with his fiancee. She beamed at everyone in the room, almost making you feel uneasy.

Eventually, the siblings began to disappear, allowing you to slip out unannounced. You returned to your room, finding another letter on your bed with a yellow carnation laid on top of it. Checking your book, you found its meaning. Rejection. Part of you wanted to toss the entire letter and completely forget about it. Instead, you opened it, figuring that no harm would come from it.

Dearest Y/N,

I’ve given it a bit of thought and I have come to the conclusion that I’m afraid. I’m afraid of what I’ve become and afraid that someone may take my place. It sounds ridiculous, but my friends lie to me. They tell me I’m fine and that I’ll get through it, but I’m afraid I never will. Those who are honest with me tell me I’m too mean, too serious. It makes me want to scream. When I wake up, I’m terrified that I will look at myself in the mirror and I won’t recognize myself. I have many regrets, like ruining the relationship with my brother that I fear is far beyond repair. All I want is control of my life and bringing you into it would help me feel like I’m normal. Y/N, you help me remember what it’s like to enjoy the sun and forget about the silver spoons and crowns and designer suits. You make me feel human.

Sincerely, PJ

Your heart melted once again. Josh’s words made so much sense. He wasn’t in love with you, but he rather saw an exit to the royal family. You began to panic. Wedding plans are starting, and here was Josh, afraid of following his own path in fear of being shunned. The question came just as fast: is he thinking of abdicating the throne? And is it my fault?

You tiptoed around the family all day. Wearing your heart on your sleeve, you could never keep a secret for long. You avoided Sam. He’d figure you out in a heartbeat. By the time everyone left the palace, it was far too late to continue working on the garden. You counted the days for the Jubilee, finding that you were over halfway there from when you started. The idea of having to rush the rest of the project brought a sigh to your lips. Everything was going too fast.

You stared at your plans in the drawing room. The vision came together almost perfectly. All of the materials were there. If you worked through the day, even the hottest part, you’d finish it on time.

“Excuse me.” Valerie tentatively stepped into the room. She curtsied. “Hi, Y/N.”

You smiled at her. “Valerie, hi. Also, I don’t know if anyone told you, I’m just a friend of the family. You don’t have to curtsy.”

She cocked her head to one side. “Sam said-”

A laugh escaped your lips as you led her to the chairs in the corner. “Please. I don’t even know what- what did he tell you?”

Her face burned red beneath the makeup she’d been taught how to apply recently. “He told me that your parents died in the war and that they found you cowering in a cardboard box and you’re essentially a secret child.”

In an attempt to make her feel better, you rolled your eyes. “Of course he did,” you sighed. “The lake over on the other end of the palace grounds, that’s where my family lives. My parents are often gone for different events so I spend my time here.”

Valerie finally found the situation funny and began to laugh. “That makes so much more sense.”

The conversation fell into a lull. You considered making an excuse that you had work to do. Sitting beside her, you could feel the kind energy radiating off of her. She smiled, though her eyes looked worried. You decided to bite the bullet and ask her, “is there something bothering you, Valerie?”

“The media,” she said, a southern twang poking through, “they followed me around the shops today.”

“As future queen, you’re going to have to get used to it,” you said. “Just ignore them. Don’t interact with them. Just go about your normal business. Once your security detail is solid, they’ll protect you.”

“Should I keep it going?” Valerie asked. “With Josh, I mean. This is a big change. I’m used to being a big name, but this is so much more than I expected.”

You took a deep breath. This is your moment. Come clean about the letters. Tell her that Josh has been sending you love notes. Instead, you took her hand into yours. “I think that’s a decision you have to make for yourself. Josh would have never proposed if he didn’t think that you could handle it.”

You stopped. You finally had a chance to really look at the future duchess, future Queen Consort. She looked desperate and tired up close. Just an hour ago she’d been smiling for the cameras and clinging onto Josh but now she looked frazzled. You were met with a choice that would dictate both of their lives. Your answer would either ruin them or make them stronger.

“Do you love him?” You asked, leading her over to the chairs. The cameras outside flashed at the stirring of the tulle curtain.

She looked nervous at the commotion outside, picking at the wood on the chair. “I do, Y/N. So much.”

“Then I suggest you have a talk with him about the media. Remind him how you feel, give him some insight into that brain of yours.”

A door slam in the middle of the night jolted you awake. Shuffling in the hallway kept you from going back to sleep. You opened your door. Sam sat on one of the benches, his head in his hands. “What’s wrong?” You asked, sitting beside him. “I heard a door slam.”

He looked up, meeting your eyes in the moonlight. “I think it was the wind. Danny had the window open.”

“Another argument?”

Sam shook his head. “No.” He sighed. “Let’s just go to bed.”

You wandered through the palace. The silent palace reminded you of what it was like before everyone grew up.

“We can take a break,” Karen said, seeing the tired look in her son’s eyes. “That’s all for today.”

Josh nodded. He hugged his mother before leaving the room. He had about fifteen minutes before his foreign language lesson and after that he had tennis with his trainer. His days were spent inside the palace walls, learning rule after rule and old tidbits of history. Josh had to have this information drilled into his head to prepare him for his future. He followed the shouts and laughs echoing from the foyer. He looked over the balcony, seeing his brothers and their friends playing a round of indoor floor hockey.

“Josh!” Sam shouted, lifting his goggles. “Come play!”

Josh looked at the game that paused. Jake lifted his goggles, tapping the hockey stick on the ground. “You can take my spot. I need a water break anyway.”

You scoffed. “Wimp!” You laughed, tossing Jake a water bottle from the nearby table. He glared playfully at you before beckoning for his brother.

Josh thought about it. He could be pummeled by his siblings or he could run to his room for his workbooks. “Helmet,” he said, running down to the bottom of the stairs. Jake kicked off his roller skates, swapping them with Josh’s loafers. Once he was appropriately protected, he took his position.

You removed your mouth guard, learning the hard way that Sam was a pusher. “You’re on my team. Get the puck past Dan and between the tables.”

Josh nodded, spotting two end tables that were set up at the end of the hallway. He barely moved his goggles over his eyes before Sam barreled into him. He fell to the ground with a grunt. Upon shouts from you, he scrambled to his feet, using his stick to balance himself. He spotted the puck being tossed between you and Sam.

“Just accept it,” Sam said, blocking your stick from the disc. “You’re going to lose.”

Using the moment he was distracted, Josh swooped in. Jake cheered him on as he raced through the foyer. Josh took the panicked look on Danny’s face as a sign that he was still distracted enough. He took his shot, pulling his stick as far back as he could for a legal hit.

“Joshua!” The Queen called as the puck zoomed past Danny. The sound of the vase shattering brought the room to a halt.

Sam kicked off his gear, throwing as much as he could beneath the stairs. Jake disappeared just as fast, yanking you with him. Josh swallowed as he looked up at his mother. She frowned deeply as his Portuguese tutor stood behind her. Without saying a word, Josh tossed the stick to the side and took his goggles off. An apology ran through his mind as he trudged up the stairs.

“I’m so-“

“We’ll discuss this later. It’s time for your Portuguese lesson.”

Josh hung his head as he walked to the makeshift classroom. Veronica was already scribbling in her workbook. He shuffled behind the desk, opening to the next page.

The discussion he had with his parents after his daily lessons was one he’d never forget. He argued that his lessons were pointless, that Danny didn’t have to learn how to bow to the kings of Africa or be forced to play with the next generation of monarchs. At 15 years old, he was made to understand his purpose in life. He understood that as he grew older, his responsibilities would be taking care of his people. His mother sighed, knowing exactly how he felt. She’s been in his shoes when she was his age. She’d been caught arguing with a princess from another country over her dolls. Queen Karen held Josh’s hand. She explained that his poise and behavior and welcoming of new cultures could make or break their small kingdom. He seemingly matured overnight, shutting himself away from his rowdy brothers. Josh pulled all of his focus to his studies. He dedicated himself to his country, learning everything he could. He read book after book, annotating the margins and bookmarking the topics he found most interesting. He learned to block out the pillow fights and thumping of different games. Josh found himself far too immersed in the real world to remember himself.

Unable to sleep after Sam retreated to his own room, you took a stroll around the grounds. All sleep had been pulled from your body though you were still more than tired. The toll of gardening for weeks on end had taken its place as a dull ache in your lower back and peeling skin on your shoulders. You decided to see what the garden looked like in the night. Most of the flower beds had been situated and were ready for plants. The fountain finally had its pipes fixed and the benches were put back. You nearly jumped at the sight of a body sitting on the bench. Stepping closer, you recognized the mop of curls and pajamas.

“Josh,” you said, making your presence known.

He turned to look at you. “Y/N. How are you?”

“Fine. You?”

He sighed heavily. “Am I doing the right thing?” He stared out into the garden. “I mean I know marrying Val is what I want, but am I fit to be king?”

You furrowed your brow, attempting to get a better look at his face. He shook his head and looked down. “The monarchs often retire when their oldest turns 25 and are often crowned around their birthday. I’m almost 27.”

“Why don’t we take a seat?” You asked softly, leading him to the lawn chairs set on the balcony. “Where is this coming from?”

Josh wiped his cheek. “How can I keep my country together when I can’t even keep my family together?” He sniffed, tears falling freely. “Jake refuses to come out of his room anymore. Sam and Daniel are fighting because of the choice I made to propose. Veronica has been caught in the crossfire.”

You stayed silent. Josh always seemed put together.

“I can’t do this, Y/N. I was fitted for the crown this morning and it’s so heavy. When they said that it’s a big responsibility, they’re right. Not only do I have to keep this house together, I have to keep the country alive.” He pulled his sleeves over his hands, pressing them into his eyes. “It’s so much.”

“Take a deep breath, Josh.” You rubbed his back. “Take it one step at a time.”

“How? Everything is getting thrown my way.” He looked at you. “Can you just hold me for a moment?”

You leaned closer, pulling the future king into a hug. He wrapped his arms around you, crying freely into your shoulder. Unsure of how to comfort him, you stayed quiet. The realization of choosing between different shades of navy blue and arranging a seating chart is the easiest decision he’s going to make, which he can barely even make. All of it began to weigh on him heavily. Despite having Valerie by his side, he couldn’t bring himself to burden her. You’d been part of it since before, hearing conversations that you probably shouldn’t have. There was an understanding between you and Josh.

He pulled away after what felt like an eternity. He dried his tears and took a deep breath. Using his media training, he turned off the tap that controlled his tears and did his best to pat away the redness. “I should go say goodnight to my mother if she’s not asleep.”

Josh didn’t mention his breakdown at breakfast. In fact, he seemed happier. He smiled brightly, patting Sam’s head as he walked by and squeezing Danny’s shoulder. He greeted his fiance with a peck to the cheek before taking his usual spot at the table. You swallowed your pride, asking for extra hands to lay the bricks and fixing the flower beds. You could have done it alone, but not with the deadline nearing. The Queen granted your request and there was a team of people two days later. They helped you, beginning much earlier than you did in the morning.

You still did your work quietly, offering tips and gentle direction to your helpers. It felt like second nature by now, the vision you had coming to live. It wasn’t until Valerie finished her homework for the day, joining you in the garden, that you finally felt a connection to her.

“You don’t have to,” you said as she scooped a hefty amount of fertilizing dirt into a bucket, mimicking your movements.

She waved you off. “I’m sick of those lessons. I want to get my hands dirty and just… spend time with you.”

You smiled at her. The two of you worked quietly, patting down the fertilizer around the bushes you planted a few days prior. The mulch cut into your knees, keeping your focus from the burning of the sun on your clothed back.

“So your family owns a chain of grocery stores?” You asked, trying to make conversation with the tidbits you’d picked up here and there.

She nodded. “My grandfather started them.” She wiped the bridge off her nose. “Our farm has dairy cows and the local stores never agreed on a price, so he set up his own store.”

You chuckled. “That is the greatest origin story I’ve ever heard.”

Valerie filled you in on her family. They’re coming in the next few weeks to officially meet the family. They’d already met Josh over the course of their relationship. She spoke highly of her siblings who all went into agriculture or veterinary medicine. You listened intently, warming up to her presence. Another comfortable silence fell, cushioned by the other employees placing the bricks on the other side of the hedge and another crew cleaning up the last of the brick wall that had been knocked down with The Queen’s permission.

“Did something- what- I don’t know how to say this. What is up with Jake?” Valerie looked at you. “I wasn’t sure who else to ask and I think you’re the least likely to bullshit me.”

You sighed. “I really don’t know.” The reality of Jake’s gradual slip into whoever he is now hit. You’d never truly paid attention. He was just your best friend’s older brother. “Jake’s a good guy, just on a separate track.”

Valerie nodded. “I just haven’t seen much of him even though he’s here and he seems like a sore subject.”

You shrugged, looking at her and dusting the dirt from your hands. “They love him and like I said, I don’t know why he’s doing what he’s doing and even if it’s true. All I know is that they don’t know how to show their support without supporting his habits.” She hummed, quietly asking you to explain more. You scooted closer. The palace always had listening ears and people itching to spill secrets to the press for a hefty check. “Jake’s mixed into some stuff. We, meaning Sam and I, used to hang out with him a lot. I don’t really know when but one day he just… stopped coming along.”

It was weird when it unfolded and it was even weirder looking back. For four years before you left for university, you spent most of your time at the palace. After Sam’s morning lessons and lunch, you’d walk over and see what trouble you could get into. Usually the trouble involved some kind of relay race or physical game when Danny made it to the palace. Jake usually came out of his room when he heard the commotion that came from the three of you.

You always thought fondly of Jake. He was always your partner in the games, but you never knew him on a personal level. He excelled at marble floor hockey and often carried your team in the swimming relays. It felt like he’d just stopped hanging out overnight. Sam never really answered why, just muttering that he must have grown up before pulling you into another activity. Eventually the roughhousing turned into trashy reality tv watch parties and sleepovers where you’d take up the guest room. Rumors fly and the tabloids pick up every little noise happening in the palace walls. While Sam hated the assumption, he liked the idea that the public only assumed he and Daniel are friends, not a couple that has been together for years.

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bluejaysandblackbats · 3 months

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The Brother Trap

Fandom: DC Comics, Flashfam

Summary: Owen wants to connect with his half-brothers for the first time. Luckily for him, they all go to the same university. Will bad blood between twins keep Owen from the family of his dreams, or is he the missing piece they've always needed?

Chapters: 9/?

Characters: Owen Mercer, Axel Walker, Thad Thawne, Bart Allen, Meloni Thawne, Deborah Morgna, Preston Lindsay, President Thaddeus Thawne Mention

Relationships: Owen Mercer/Axel Walker, Thad Thawne/Deborah Morgna, PrestonBart

Additional Tags: POV Third Person, College AU, Angst and Fluff, Family Dynamics, Family Issues, No Powers AU

Chapter Nine: Sweetpea & Sunshine

The twins got home late, and their mom lay on the couch, fast asleep. Pictures of their father lay strewn across the table while a home movie played on the tv. Bart couldn't look at the home movies. It made their father too real. He went out to the car to get their laundry out of the trunk, but Thad stood frozen, watching the screen. Don played with them when they were babies on tv. "Where's my squish?" Don asked as a young Thad grabbed his face and kissed him. "I love you too, Theo."

"How do you know he's Thad?" a voice in the background questioned.

"Theo's a daddy's boy... I wonder if Dawn and I were like this," Don chuckled as he pulled a young Thad into his arms. Bart stood up and reached for Thad, and Meloni gasped in the background. Don looked over at Bart calmly and grinned. "Well, would you look at that."

The video stopped, and Thad wiped his tears away and sniffed. "How was the party?" Meloni asked, still half-asleep.

"Bart was the designated driver... I'm a little drunk," Thad mumbled. Meloni sat up and leaned over the back of the couch. Thad swallowed hard, and he walked into Meloni's open arms.

"What's the matter, Sweetpea? And before you answer, I love this new color on you," Meloni whispered in a sweet voice as she messed up his hair. Thad let out a broken laugh as he cried. Meloni knew what was bothering Thad, but she wanted him to say it.

"I miss him," Thad answered with a broken whisper.

"I miss him too, but he left me the two most important parts of his life... He left me you and Bart," Meloni reassured him, "Did you have fun tonight?"

Thad nodded. "Bart brought his own bag of pizza rolls, and there was a girl from—. I have a date with her. Bart sat with our friend, and we took him home and his boyfriend-. I think that's his boyfriend. We took them home. I think you'll like my friend—. Our friend. He's Bart's friend too," Thad rambled. Bart came back in with the laundry basket.

"Hi, M—."

"Can I hug both my boys or is it too soon?" Meloni asked excitedly. Bart and Thad embraced her. "I love you both so so much."

"Love you, Mom," they whispered in unison. Thad went upstairs to shower and get ready for bed, and Bart stayed behind.

"Were you waiting for us?" Bart asked. Meloni nodded. "I saw a picture of Grandma today... Your mom." Meloni turned back toward the tv and shut her eyes as if the mere mention of her mother caused her pain.

"You can use my bathroom... We'll talk tomorrow after cards, Sunshine," Meloni whispered. Bart went upstairs to use his mom's shower, and both boys were in bed within the hour.

Meloni turned the tv off and went upstairs to check on them. When she was sure they were asleep, she went up to the attic. Meloni opened the armoire and pulled out a small locked box. She unlocked it and sifted through the pictures and keepsakes inside until she stumbled upon a photo of herself in the delivery room with her firstborn son. It was the only picture Meloni had of Owen. She held it to her chest as she wept.

Sometimes she felt guilty as a mother for not raising all of her sons together, and she felt even worse for concealing her past. Bart came up to the attic, rubbing his eyes. "Mom?" Bart mumbled. Meloni closed the box and turned to him. "I'm gonna make some warm milk. Do you want some?"

"Um, no," she sniffed, "No, thank you."

"What are you hiding?" Bart asked.

Meloni tried to stop crying long enough to answer, but it only made her feel worse. "Can we talk about it some other time? I'm sorry," Meloni wept. Bart embraced her.

"See you later, Mom," Bart whispered.

He left her alone in the attic, and she went through her little box alone. She kept all her secrets in that little box. Everything she couldn't say or admit to out loud went in the box. The only other person that knew about it was Don. Finding Don's sweatshirts reawakened old memories. Her childhood, her young adulthood, and the loss of her eldest child all bubbled to the surface, and it made her feel more alone than she'd ever felt.

Meloni decided she'd tell the boys once they were old enough, but they argued so much. Now that they were getting along, it seemed like the perfect time to talk to them. That scared her. She could hear Thad and Bart's voices downstairs. She heard a loud thud and got up to see what was happening. Before Meloni could get to the door, Thad and Bart started laughing. Meloni let out a sigh of relief and pressed her forehead to the wall. She pulled herself together before going downstairs to their room. Thad and Bart sat on the top bunk together, whispering, using words only they knew. "Everything okay? I heard a noise," Meloni asked.

Thad and Bart chuckled. "I fell up the ladder," Thad explained. Meloni smiled.

"Mom, do you wanna sleep in here? You know? Like when we were little," Bart offered. Meloni nodded. She didn't realize that Bart told Thad that she'd been crying.

She climbed into the bottom bunk and drifted off to sleep, and Thad lay on the other side of Bart's bunk. "Bart?" Thad whispered. Bart made a soft noise. "I'm sorry about what I said this week..."

"It doesn't count. I said something just as bad," Bart whispered, "Besides, I can't remember what you said."

Thad chuckled and closed his eyes. He knew Bart was lying, but he loved him for it. Bart never forgot anything. An 'I forgot' was just as good as an 'I forgive you' to Thad.

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heshoes · 3 years

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She was his best friend and they shared everything together already anyway. What difference would it make if it were a hat, shampoo, or the same bed sometimes? So what? That's what the Uni Daze were about, having fun, traditions, getting serious, new relationships, friendships, heart ache, break-ups, make ups, secrets, the occasional/casual bajingo here and there, and possibly, just maybe, finding the love of your life and hoping that it all works out.

Warnings: smut, slow burn, angst, mentions of abortion, mentions of verbal abuse

Harry Styles x OC (Face claim Zendaya)

Uni Daze Masterlist

Chapter 1 (Word Count 4k)

Harry

Water droplets cascaded down my neck before I grabbed a towel to throw over my head. That shower was definitely needed. My muscles would be sore from my workout this morning, but I enjoy the ache. As I headed towards my room to put on clothes I noticed that my roommates door was still closed and for Michelle this can only mean one thing.

I pulled up my trousers and pulled my t-shirt over my head before layering it with a plaid button up. If she doesn't wake up soon, I'll be forced to take measures into my own hands. I walked halfway down the hall and then stopped to pick up the beanie that I let Michelle borrow last night. The hat was carelessly tossed on the floor along with a t-shirt of hers and a pink-ish orange lace bra. This was just one of the many downsides of living with a woman. Even if she is your best mate, finding the occasional bras and panties mixed into your clothes on laundry day can put a damper on your chances of trying and talk to a girl if you don’t have a washer and drier in house, and lets not even mention those four to five days out of the month when a tampon box is left on the bathroom sink and you have to explain that to a date. Not thinking, I picked all of the items up before I dropped the shirt and bra on the ground, feeling somewhat awkward touching something that was so close in contact with Michelle's...intimate bits.

"Michelle?!" No answer…

"Mitchell?! Wake up you're gonna be late for our first class!”

I laughed to myself at her lack of response before I sauntered back down the hall to my room grabbing the Ultimate Alarm; a fog horn that Michelle, the lads, and I nabbed from a school footie game. We each have one and have all have organized to use it with each other when the drink has made us more sluggish than functional.

Not much has changed since the first day I met Michelle. She's the only one here that I've met who seems to have stayed the same throughout all the three years of university that I've known her....That can be looked at as both a good and a bad thing.

Shaking the foghorn with devilish delight and biting my cheeks so that I wouldn't blow my cover, my feet stopped in front of her door once again. I cracked the entrance slightly sticking my arm in the room and turning my head away to shield my ears as much as possible from the noise. As soon as I pressed the button to sound it off, I heard a loud thudding sound followed by cursing. If she wasn't up before, she's up now.

"WHAT THE FUCK, HAZLAND?!”

I ran back to my room to put the horn down and grab my bag. This is the first year that I haven't strained my back to pick it up. Fouth year with a lighter load but more studying than I did in all the other three years combined seems pretty backwards to me, but I won't complain.

"What time is it?”

"Half- Oh-“

Michelle emerged from her room looking worse for wear. Her hair was in a nest atop her head and she only wore a long sleeved burgundy t-shirt and a black pair of boy short knickers on her lithe, lanky frame. I swallowed deeply and turned my head away not expecting her to be so scantily clad. The colors contrasted with her warm honey/caramel skin tone and it was only then that I took in how much of her skin was actually showing. I've seen her naked before but it was an accident and brief. Very brief. I only saw her outlines really, nothing of real importance... not that I was trying to look or anything.

"Half past eight. Go put on trousers! I don't want to see your bajingo!”

Michelle primped her dry lips at me prior to moistening them with a swipe of her tongue, making sure to flip her middle finger up in my direction before she disappeared back into her room.

"Everyone wants to see my bajingo Harry and that's plenty of time for me to get ready. You didn't have to use the Ultimate Alarm. It's not like I was in a drug induced coma!”

"I called you twice but you didn't answer. I thought that-“

I trailed off my words as a gorgeous blonde walked out of Michelle's room. Her hair was tussled and she was scrambling to adjust her skirt as Michelle looked at me with a tightlipped grin, feeling out the room.Michelle walked her secret house guest to the door and gave her a lingering kiss that caused the girl to stand on tip toe before awkwardly waving a goodbye to her and shutting the door. I was left stunned.

"Pick your jaw up off the floor Styles!”

"That- that was a girl.”

“Yes."

"She was your friend?”

“No."

Michelle walked into the kitchen grabbing an orange juice carton out of the refrigerator. She took a sip straight from the jug causing me to grimace before she rolled her eyes at me and grabbed a red solo cup. I was only momentarily distracted before I continued on my previous trail of thought.

"But, you were...and she…"

"Yes Harry, spit it out come on. You're almost there. I know it. I can feel it”

"She was putting her clothes back on.”

Michelle nodded her head in agreement as she continued to guzzle the rest of our citrusy, pulp free juice. After she finished it, she tossed the empty plastic to me and then walked out of the kitchen. I was right by the bin but set the cup on the countertop as my brain continued to navigate through what I think I want to ask.

"You didn't have on many clothes…"

"No, Harry. Neither of us did last night.”

Michelle folded her arms while squinting at me. The hint she's dropped allows what comes out of my mouth next to be uninhibited and honestly sound a bit too over zealous about the idea.

"You had sex with her?”

Michelle nodded her head up and down grinning slightly. Almost a smug look on her face I would say. She hadn't been in a relationship in a while. The last one I remember was when she was with my best mate Louis. It's how I met her as a matter of fact. Michelle and Louis are virtually the same person. It's freaky sometimes. She could be a reincarnate of him as a girl. They were inseparable, but when it ended it ended badly. I'm still not clear on the reason why. Neither of them will talk about it, but I managed to stay neutral in the whole situation and still be able to carry on a friendship with both of them. I'm still good friends with Lou, but he doesn't come around as much since I moved in with Michelle. Me and her got on so well while her and Louis dated it was hard not to become friends with her as well. Louis moved on and moved in with his bird earlier this year and I haven't really seen Michelle with anyone...Until now.

"So-so, you're a lesbian then?”

"Yes Harry. I've 'switched teams' as they say.”

"Since when?” I was just so shocked.

"Since over the summer...Does it bother you?” Michelle looked down at the ground and scratched the back of her neck as if she were bracing herself if I said it did and to be honest I was slightly offended that she’d think that way of me.

“No… No, I just never saw you with anyone over the summer.”

I could hear a sigh of relief escape Michelle’s lips as she turned to leave the front door.

I could have sworn she only hung out with me and the lads when Louis wasn't around. She hung out with us so much and we'd gotten so comfortable around her that we actually started counting her as one of the guys and calling her 'Mitch' or 'Mitchell' instead of Michelle. She always pretends to get cross with us when we called her that, but she can never keep a straight face long enough for us to believe that she doesn't like it.

"That doesn't mean I wasn't with anyone Harrow." Michelle winked at me and went back into her room coming out ten minutes later in joggers, a t-shirt, and Nike trainers with no backpack, one pencil, and a pen. Very prepared.

"Told you thirty minutes was more than enough time. Come now, Hazland.”

"...That's what she said." I smiled proudly at my own joke while Michelle gave me an unwavering a stale face.

"If I can say anything about growth in these last 4 years of our friendship it would be that you have made the least of it. You are the worst.”

“The pot shouldn’t call the kettle names. I thought it was funny." I grinned at her irritation grabbing all of my things in preparation to start the final year.

"Of course you did. Usually when you think it's funny that means it's not.”

Michelle exited out leaving me to lock the door to our new off campus apartment but I wanted to know more.

I followed behind her and asked her all types of questions. You can't just spring on people that you've switched sides and not expect them to want to know all of the details. In all honesty it wasn't a big deal as long as she was happy. Perhaps I was just being nosy, but after usually seeing her with mainly men my underlying question to her was probably, "Why?"

"I wasn't having that much luck with guys, Haz. One night I went out for a drink and a girl approached me so I figured, why the hell not? What could it hurt, really? Nothing. I went for it, and I enjoyed myself.”

She didn't have a great track record with guys after her split with Lou. She was so unhappy at one point, but then again when you bring home assholes and expect them to turn into stand up gents tears are to be expected. They always looked like gutter grunge to me but at the moment that seemed to be her type, so I didn't say anything. I've actually spent a lot of nights with Michelle rubbing her back as she cried against my shoulder and handing her the odd Kleenex to substitute for my shirt. Now that I think about it, last summer I really didn't see her with any guys. I guess when I saw her with girls I always assumed they were just her friends.

"So...What's it like?”

"What's what like?”

"You know the, um, the switch...What's it like?" Michelle threw her head back and laughed as we reached the main building for our senior seminar class.

"You mean what's it like going from cock to fanny? Is that what you're asking me?" I raised my eyebrows at her bluntness and I could feel heat rise in my cheeks. There's no beating about the bush with Michelle, not anymore anyway.

"Pretty much, yeah. That's what I'm asking. I’m just being nosy. If it’s too much you don’t have to-“

"Honestly," Michelle shifted her eyes back and forth as if she was going to tell me the secret to life in her next sentence, "It's so much better. Guys have no clue what they're doing down there. It's so refreshing to have someone know exactly what it is that I want, when I want it, and how I want it without explaining myself like I'm a bloody rubix cube. Did you know that there are three holes down there?” She asked me sarcastically as if we weren’t both on track for Med school.

"I resent that! And no…no I didn't know that.” I replied to sarcasm with sarcasm, grinning to myself much like the purple devil emoji. I surely did know all the holes.

"Why is that, Hazland? The resentment issue?”

We took our seats in the half full lecture room at the back of the class as we normally do. Michelle, myself and the rest of the gang have started many an early weekend by sitting in the back of the class, signing the attendance sheet and then leaving when the professors back was turned. I don't think I'll do that this year though. I have too many important tests to take if I want to be a doctor. I mean to pass the UKCAT exam the first time.

"Because I'm not half bad at it. At least I don't think I am... Never got a complaint before and I don't intend to.”

Michelle laughed loudly as the professor walked in, drawing attention our way. I smiled and waved at the onlookers before Michelle chuckled again grabbing my hand to stop me as the professor started to speak.

"Just because you never got a complaint doesn't mean that it wasn't said, Harrow. Nine times out of ten, if you don’t hear a complaint it’s because she cares more about your ego than her orgasm...It’s a shame really.”

I primped my lips at her and we continued to whisper to each other back and forth while we took notes on what the professor wrote on the whiteboard during the lecture. There would be two major papers in this class. Thankfully for the twenty page essay that we'll be assigned to do later on in the quarter we can have a partner. Michelle quickly leaned her head on my shoulder choosing me to work with when the paper isn't even due until the last week of class. I of course accepted her. Not only is she my friend but she's one of those annoyingly clever people. I've honestly never seen Michelle open or purchase one required textbook in all of our three years knowing each other in our university careers, but every time marks are posted her marks are always first class honors.

By the end of class, I ended up giving Michelle a hefty amount of paper for notes in seminar and for the other classes she had throughout the rest of the day. It baffles me as to how she's this born genius, but the most unorganized person that I know at the same time. Her only response to my annoyance was, "At least I have writing utensils.”

"Was that girl this morning your girlfriend?”

"No. I'm an admitting fuckgirl. What’s the saying? If you can’t beat them join them. I refuse to be part of the played group any more. It's our last year after all. I figure it's time to up the ante. Let monogamy go.”

I laughed and shook my head before another question came up. It was always something I wanted to know about lesbians but was too embarrassed to ask. It's not like I have many lesbian friends who I could turn to and get the information that most want to know. I'm never that embarrassed around Michelle though.

"So, erm, um...who's more dominant, when you're...You know?”

Michelle rolled her eyes at the question and I began to feel like an ass.

"When we're scissoring?" She spoke loudly making my thought about embarrassment wrong.

“Chelle!"

Michelle snickered knowing that she's put a vivid image in my head of her and the mystery blonde. I shake the thought before I get too carried away. I'm not supposed to get aroused with the thought of my best friend and another girl.

"Whoever feels like it whenever they feel like it? It was always a competition with men isn't it?”

“I don’t think it’s so much a competition as it is that some women don't like being on top?” I spoke presenting the idea causing her to pop her lips in disagreement.

“It’s never asked though is it? Sounds like male assumption to me. When I'm with a girl it's just flat out pleasurable for the pair of us. It's not about dominance, Harry. It's about getting off. Scissoring isn't a thing though, by the by.”

I nodded my head up and down still in awe that she of all people had taken a liking to someone who has the same bits as she does. It didnt' bother me like she thought it did earlier and I hope I didn't give her that impression by my line of questioning. Honestly these were just things I always wanted to know. I'm actually more hurt that scissoring apparently isn't a thing...They make it look so pleasurable in porn...I've been bamboozled.

"That's enough questions about me for now. What's happened to you?”

"What do you mean?"

"Harry full offense, but you were a slut when I first met you. You've since depleted in your numbers dramatically, except I'm sure the use of your hand. There were tissues in your bin the other night when I was cleaning the apartment and you don't have a cold…"

"I have h-hay fever Michelle! Allergies kick up at random times... Don't clean my room, I'll do it! It's personal in there. I knew I couldn't find any of my shit for a reason. And hang on-" I knotted my eyebrows playfully at her earlier slut comment.

I admit that I got around, but I moved very slowly. I've only ever had sex with seven or maybe nine girls in my twenty-one years give or take. I don't really keep count. It's not like they were souvenirs or notches on my belt for me to keep track of. All of them were an experience and I'm pretty sure I could name them all if I had to.

The first time happened my last year in 6th form or high school you could say and I didn't even know Michelle then. I got teased for that a bit, but I wasn't in a rush. The maybe other seven or eight happened here at uni but it wasn't as frequent as Michelle makes it out to be. The first two were in my first year when I met Michelle, one of them ended up being my girlfriend over a span of Five months. After that, I only was only ever active with a few more spaced out over the course of two and a half years, and they were regulars. That's not that bad when you think about it, especially for a guy my age at university.

"You were Haz! You had a new girl every weekend.”

"I did not! They were the same few people. They just kind of, alternated? You just never paid them any attention so you thought they were different every time. You're giving me more credit than I deserve."

Michelle rolled her eyes and continued to tease me.

"Whatever. What's happened then?”

"I don't know what you mean. I got invested in my studies. I have to take the UKCAT this year.”

"When is the last time you fun bit wrestled, willy waggled, played 'hide the helmet', rolled in the hay as they say?" I scrunched my nose and then thought about it and then got frustrated that I had to actually think about it.

“Yet I’m the worst? Who’s this they you speak of?" I asked her, squinting my eyes and tilting my head to the side.

"Everyone says those things when talking about sex. The more mature ones do anyway. Stop dilly dallying and answer the question. When is the last time you put your 'p' in a ‘v'?"

"S-spring? Early spring? Early Spring terms I guess…"

I could feel my cheeks turn red as I answered her question and Michelle bit her cheeks as an odd snorting noise left her nose while she tried to hold in her laughter. It's not that funny.

"You haven't fucked since the spring?" I laughed more at myself than at the shocked look on her face and shook my head no.

"No, not actual Spring. Early spring terms, so February...My birthday.”

"Harry, we're at the end of August here! You might as well count yourself as celibate. Not that I can blame the girls for dodging you. You still call a vagina a bajingo.”

I chuckled before I spoke, "The word vagina is honestly just as bad as bajingo. And this is coming from someone who has over a hundred words and phrases for sex.”

"A hundred and counting, Harrow.”

I shrugged my shoulders and tried to make the red in my cheeks less noticeable by rubbing my hand over my face. Spring term is when I decided to get more focused. I threw myself into clubs and my books to try to get more into school and buckle down. I'm even president of our graduating class now, prepared to serve on the Alumni council after graduation and I for one am proud of myself for getting this far. The greater half of my first three years here at university was spent at frat parties and in my bed sleeping class time away. I barely know how I made it through this far with decent grades, but I'm grateful that I did. Failure isn't an option.

Michelle stood on tip toe, leaning her head on my shoulder all the while soothingly rubbing my back. When I turned my head to face her, she batted her long lashes at me and made her big brown eyes look like one of those odd cartoon characters whose eyes cover more than half of their face.

"It's okay, Harry.”

"What is?”

"That you haven't gotten any pussy in over six months." Michelle has officially taken a back seat and let Mitchell take the wheel. This is how she got the nickname in the first place.

"Sod off Mitch! It's not like it's a bad thing-“

"Like shit it isn’t."

"I'm busy anyway.”

"With your hand and those bin tissues." I nudged Michelle off my shoulder feigning to be fed up with her masturbation jokes.

"Well if you weren't in my room you wouldn't have seen them! Gosh, you do something one time and then that's what people automatically associate you with!”

Michelle lets out another awkward snort that causes both of us to laugh out loud as we walk through the halls preparing to go our separate ways for the rest of the day.

"That was actually kind of funny Harry. Your jokes are getting a bit better.”

"Yeah, I know. They're funny when they're at my expense.”

"Aw, Hazland. You poor, poor serial masturbator. I'll see you later, yeah?”

"Yeah," I grinned at her before I turned to leave.

"Wait, how much later?” Michelle walked back towards me with one eyebrow raised to the sky as I tried to quickly map out my schedule for the day in my head before spitting it out to her.

"Uh, I get done with classes at half five, then I have a class meeting at six, and then I work at the first year halls front desk from seven to eleven thirty tonight. So I'll probably get home around midnight."

I contently sighed and grinned at Michelle as a look of pure horror took place of her once relaxed features. Her eyes seemed to widen larger after every additional activity that I listed, but I truly enjoyed remaining busy. Michelle's face remained contorted with displeasure before she spoke.

"So you're still coming to the pub later with the lads right?”

"Uh-oh. Chelle I don't know. I kind of forgot all about that. I don't think I will though, it's Monday and-“

"Ah, ah, ah, I'm not taking no as an answer. You promised and it's welcome week anyway. The pub is gonna be live! Just swing by and have one drink.”

“Nahhh I think I’m gonna-”

"One drink.”

“Sit this one out.”

"One drink, Harrow. One. Come on its tradition. You can't just bum out on tradition. This is our last year." She held up her tiny pointer finger to emphasize her point before she spoke again, this time in a small whisper, “One."

“No."

“Please?"

“No."

“Please?” Her lips pouted and her eyes turned sad trying her hand at manipulation.

"No, Chelle. No. Stop looking at me that way...Oh! Gah! Fine. I'll head to the pub when I get off work. One drink. One.”

Michelle bounced on her feet and clapped her hands in excitement making me shake my head before I turned to leave. Before I could make a real step Michelle called my name again.

"Hey, do you think I could borrow a pen? I seemed to have dropped mine."

155 notes · View notes

labomi · 3 years

Text

selfish | two (18+)

Summary: You’re a former coworker of Kento Nanami back when he was just an office worker. You accidentally run into him at a bakery many years later which gives you a second chance at getting to know the man who had always caught your eye.

Pairing: Kento Nanami x f!Reader

Words: 8.6k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+ only), vaginal sex, creampie, explicit language, alcohol

Notes: I’m so happy to get this out finally ajsfdsld thank you for all the lovely comments on the first part! I’m so glad people enjoyed it enough to convince me to write more! This will definitely be the last part for this fic, but I do have plans for more Nanami things in the future. Thanks for reading! It’s also up on my ao3 if you prefer to read it there!

Index: [Part One] [Part Two]

You were moving boxes in the storage room when you heard the chime of the front door opening. With a sudden jolt, you realized you had forgotten to change the sign from “open” to “closed” before cleaning up. Cursing at yourself for the careless mistake, you hoped the customer wouldn’t be too upset that the shop was actually shut down for the night.

“I’m sorry, but we’re closed,” you politely explained, emerging from the back room. But one look at the tall figure by the door caused you to stop in your tracks. A large smile grew on your face when you saw exactly who had entered the shop.

Nanami was still in his normal work attire, but he had left behind his signature blazer and sunglasses. The top few buttons of his blue dress shirt were undone, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. You unconsciously licked your lips.

“I can make an exception for you though,” you teased with a wink before walking around the counter to greet your boyfriend.

As you waltzed into his open arms, Nanami leaned down to give you a sweet kiss as a greeting. You sighed happily against his lips. It felt so good to be with him after a long, tiring day. His presence always made you feel safe and warm. Like nothing could ever possibly go wrong as long as you were in his embrace.

Nanami’s hands latched onto your waist as he tried to deepen the kiss, but you reluctantly pulled away with a groan of frustration.

“As much as I’d like to continue, I have to finish closing up shop,” you complained with a pout.

Nanami kissed the top of your head before releasing you. “It’s alright. I’ll wait.”

You changed the sign on the door to “closed” to prevent any unwanted guests from entering the shop. You then wiped down all the counters and properly stored the leftover ingredients. Once finished with all your tasks, you took off your apron and shoved it in your bag.

“I’m ready!” you called out to Nanami as you started to shut off all the lights. The two of you exited the now dark shop before you locked the front door.

Whenever you had a closing shift, Nanami always came to walk you home. You found it absolutely endearing. Even though you didn’t particularly mind traveling alone at night, the walk to your apartment was always more pleasant when the sorcerer was by your side.

It was almost midnight. The normally busy streets were now devoid of both cars and other pedestrians. You loved sharing these quiet moments with Nanami. Just the two of you enjoying each other’s presence with no one else around. Nanami preferred it this way too, especially because he wasn’t a particular fan of PDA.

You were holding onto Nanami’s hand as he quietly walked beside you. “How was work today?” you asked.

Nanami was a little sensitive about discussing his job as a sorcerer with you. He always refused to share the details of his missions, but he begrudgingly answered your general questions about his workday with vague responses.

“It was fine.” He squeezed your hand lightly. “I was able to get off early.”

“Lucky you! I wish I could have finished earlier,” you complained with a huff. “Closing shift is the worst.”

“Did you eat dinner at least?”

You nodded. “I got some takeout during my break.”

“Good.” He knew you had a bad habit of skipping dinner while you were working. You found it more convenient to just eat a granola bar, especially when it was busy. But Nanami always lightly chastised you when you did this, so you had been making more of an effort to eat better.

The two of you finally arrived at your apartment. Once inside, you immediately emptied out of your bag and threw your apron into the laundry hamper. Luckily, you were off of work for the next two days.

“Kento, you’re staying the night, right?” The sorcerer was still standing in your living room.

“I have to report to work early tomorrow. I don’t want to wake you.”

You rolled your eyes at him with a sigh. Nanami was too considerate of you sometimes. “You never wake me up. Plus, I have my 9 am class tomorrow, so I have to be up early anyway.”

Nanami knew you were right. Unlike him, you slept like the dead. Frankly, he was a little jealous. The sorcerer had always been a sensitive sleeper, but he found it much easier to relax in your presence. Since the two of you had started dating, the quality of his sleep remarkably improved.

“I’ll stay.” You grinned smugly. It didn’t take much to convince him to sleep over.

“Good. I’m going to shower.”

The two of you rarely spent the night apart from one another, alternating between each other’s apartments based on the convenience for the night. Nanami had his own toiletries, pajamas, and spare clothes in your apartment, and you had your own set of things at his place as well.

As you took your shower, Nanami changed into his sleepwear and sat on your couch, reading one of many books he left at your place. Once you announced you were done using the bathroom, the sorcerer placed a bookmark and set the book back down on your coffee table. You were already in the bedroom, changing into your pajamas and packing your bag for class tomorrow, knowing you would forget something if you waited until the morning.

You looked up as Nanami entered the room after washing up. You still found it relatively amusing to see him in such casual clothes: a pair of plaid pajama pants and a thin white t-shirt. But you were glad that only you got to see him like this. The man was the perfect example of prim and proper in public, but at home, he found it more appropriate to dress comfortably. And you thought he looked absolutely adorable. Especially with his unstyled hair.

After the lights were turned off, the two you snuggled in bed together and kissed each other goodnight. Within seconds, you were already fast asleep, exhausted from the long day. Nanami listened to the sound of your deep, even breathing. He felt completely at ease with you safely pressed against him. It wasn’t long before he followed you into a deep sleep.

---

Nanami’s life was simple before he met you at that bakery.

He went to work, came back home, read a book, had a glass of scotch, and made some dinner. The cycle repeated nearly every day, but Nanami didn’t particularly mind. He liked having a simple, predictable routine.

Once you reentered his life, things were a bit different. A bit more exciting. He wasn’t complaining.

Instead of only buying groceries for himself, he made sure to also buy your favorite snacks. Instead of making a reservation for one at a restaurant, he asked for a table for two. Instead of placing one set of utensils on his dining table, he always put down two.

Jujutsu sorcerers were a lonely group of people. They often felt isolated from the general population, born with unique abilities that allowed them to see things that most other people could not.

It was a difficult path. Sorcerers faced a life full of constant battle and death. And the only people who could relate to their hardships were the same people dying by their sides.

For this reason, sorcerers rarely interacted with people outside the jujutsu community. They saw themselves as an outsider to the rest of society. A society that was blissfully unaware of the existence of curses.

But it was different with you.

When Nanami was with you, he didn’t feel like an outsider or a jujutsu sorcerer.

He felt like a normal man.

The activities that Nanami once did alone were now the same activities he enjoyed doing together with you. He took you to his favorite bakery to pick out fresh bread every week. He escorted you to well-reviewed restaurants he had been meaning to visit. He even brought you to his beloved local bookstore, the one place he had been visiting for years as a regular customer.

The first time he took you into the shop, the owner couldn’t help but notice the way your hands were intertwined with one another. As you browsed through the shelves on your own, the old woman suggestively waggled her eyebrows at Nanami.

“So you got a lady now?” she asked curiously.

Nanami thought it was a little odd that she was somehow keeping tabs on his relationship status, but he nodded anyway.

“Ah! She’s a pretty one!”

You suddenly reappeared with a tall stack of secondhand books in your arms. “Kento! This place is amazing! I’m going to buy all of these!”

“Oh, definitely a keeper too,” the owner commented.

Nanami found himself agreeing.

He didn’t know if you could be any more perfect.

Nanami had always enjoyed cooking. He loved the process of selecting a recipe, buying fresh ingredients, and turning them into a delicious, home-cooked meal. But he learned that enjoyed cooking even more when it was for you.

The sorcerer was appalled to hear that you hardly ever cooked for yourself. He had surveyed the state of your freezer in utter disgust. It was crammed full of boxes of microwavable meals and several pints of ice cream. You defended yourself vehemently, claiming that you were too busy to cook between classes, work, and study sessions. The microwave was the easiest and quickest appliance to use after all. And sometimes you just wanted ice cream for dinner.

Nanami took it upon himself to make sure you were eating proper, nutritious meals. In his eyes, it was less of a chore and more of a hobby. He enjoyed learning what you liked. He looked forward to hearing your thoughts about a recipe. He loved the way your eyes lit up whenever he presented a new dish. The sorcerer had even subscribed to food magazines and bought some international cookbooks just to try out with you.

Every morning, Nanami packed you a healthy lunch to ensure you wouldn’t just eat a granola bar for the entire day. And whenever the two of you both had a free night, you always ate dinner together.

In particular, Friday nights had become a weekly tradition between the two of you. Nanami would prepare a special dinner with some fancy wine. The two of you would even dress up a little to celebrate the start of the weekend.

You knocked on Nanami’s door one Friday night, wearing a simple yet elegant dress with just a hint of makeup on your face. The door opened and you were instantly greeted by the mouth-watering smell of whatever the man was cooking in the kitchen. But the sight of Nanami was even more distracting. He was wearing an apron over a tight black button-up shirt with gray slacks. You bit your lip softly, eyeing him appreciatively.

While you enjoyed going out to eat in a restaurant, there was something more intimate about Nanami cooking dinner at home just for the two of you. Plus, the atmosphere was always lovely. His apartment was clean, spacious, and well-decorated. Whatever jujutsu sorcerers got paid, it was clearly more than enough.

“It smells good,” you hummed. “What are you making tonight?”

The sorcerer never revealed dinner to you in advance. For some reason, he always wanted to keep it a surprise.

“Homemade linguine with shrimp. I also got some fresh bread to go along with it.”

Your eyes lit up instantly. “Oooh, sounds delicious! I didn’t know you knew how to make pasta from scratch.”

Everything that Nanami prepared was always amazing. There was never a meal he made that you didn’t enjoy. The first time he cooked you dinner, you almost wanted to propose to him right then and there. A man with those looks and proper culinary skills? You felt like the luckiest person in the world.

You always offered to help Nanami while he was cooking but he would gently shoo you out of the kitchen every time. You weren’t sure if it was because he wanted you to sit back and relax or if it was because he thought you would mess things up.

It was probably the latter.

(Most definitely the latter.)

Due to your clear lack of culinary expertise, you were in charge of cleaning all the pots and pans and loading the dishwasher. You couldn’t complain.

Your post-dinner activities were always the same. The two of you would play a movie and then immediately proceed to ignore it for the rest of the night.

Tonight was no different.

You moaned loudly, writhing about on the couch. “Kento, fuck.”

Your dress was hiked up around your hips, underwear already discarded with Nanami’s face in between your legs. You were already shuddering through your second orgasm of the night with Nanami eagerly lapping up your fluids. His strong arms locked your thrashing legs into place as you gripped the edges of the couch, riding out the last few waves of intense pleasure.

You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes as he pulled back, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. “Ready?” he asked in a deep voice. His pupils were blown open in lust. You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. The man gathered you in his arms and headed to the bedroom.

He carefully set you down on unsteady legs as he pulled the zipper down your dress until the garment fell and landed in a heap on the ground. To his pleasant surprise, you were already braless. You turned around and started to slowly unbutton Nanami’s dress shirt, taking your sweet time. His gaze raked over your entire figure, causing your fingers to fumble as you flushed from the intensity of his stare. Eventually, Nanami had enough. He threw you on the bed and quickly shed the rest of his clothes on his own.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, climbing on the bed and hovering over you. His large, calloused hands roamed all over your bare skin while his mouth focused on sucking at the sensitive spots on your neck.

You relished the feel of Nanami’s touch all over you, but one glance at his painfully hard cock had your cunt begging to be filled.

“Kento,” you whined. “I can’t wait. Fuck me, please. I need you inside me, right now.”

Nanami sheathed his entire length inside you with just one sharp thrust. He proceeded to fuck you hard and fast, just the way you liked. Each snap of his hips left you a complete mess underneath him, moaning his name over and over again. It was just barely audible over the lewd, wet sounds of your desperate cunt squeezing around him.

Nanami grabbed one of your hands and interlocked his fingers with yours. A sweet gesture as he roughly pounded you into the bed. The two of you were so worked up that it didn’t take long for the both of you to quickly become undone. You arched your back and tightly gripped Nanami’s hand as uncontrollable pleasure coursed throughout your entire body. Nanami groaned your name as he sloppily thrust into you several more times before flooding your cunt with his cum.

When he finally pulled out, Nanami was satisfied to see his seed trickling out of you.

“Kento,” you called his name, suddenly feeling shy under his intense gaze.

The man adjusted his position so he was now laying next to you. He kissed you sweetly and whispered praises of you as you giggled breathlessly.

“Hmm, I don’t want to get out of bed and clean up yet.”

“Then don’t,” Nanami said with a devious look in his eyes.

It was then that you felt his length hardening once again against your thigh. He suddenly pulled you on top of him as he laid on his back. The movement caused your sensitive folds to inadvertently rub against his dick as you straddled his hips. You gasped at the feeling, clutching at his chest to prop you up.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growled.

---

It was a slow afternoon when a man entered the boba shop. He wore an all-black outfit and a matching beanie. Tufts of his disheveled brown hair stuck out from underneath.

“Hello!” You greeted him inside as his eyes flickered around the place nervously before walking up to the cash register.

“What would you like to order?”

Instead of browsing the menu, the man’s gaze was focused elsewhere. Specifically, your chest. You stood there uncomfortably, wondering if you should say something or just ignore him. But then you realized the man wasn’t being a creep. He was reading your name tag.

The man said your name out loud hesitantly.

“Yes? That’s me.” You tilted your head slightly, trying to figure out if you knew this man. Nothing about his appearance rang a bell. You then started to worry about whether or not you were supposed to recognize him. Was he a current classmate? A former coworker?

The man’s eyes instantly lit up. “You’re Nanami’s girlfriend, right?”

Your eyes widened in surprise.

Kento? He knows Kento?

“Oh, um, yes I am.” The question had taken you off guard. You weren’t expecting a random customer to mention your boyfriend’s name.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” The man smiled brightly at you, looking extremely excited. “Gojo always mentions how pretty and kind you are, so I couldn’t resist visiting when he told me you worked here.”

Gojo?

If this man knew both Nanami and Gojo, did this mean he was also a sorcerer?

The stranger had piqued your curiosity, and you just couldn’t give up the opportunity to sit down and chat with him. Luckily, it was a slow day and you convinced your coworker to allow you to take your break early. After preparing two drinks, you slipped into a booth in the back of the shop with the man taking a seat across from you.

“I’m Ino Takuma.” The man introduced himself to you.

“So, if you know Gojo and Kento, does that mean you’re a sorcerer?” You kept your voice hushed while asking, just in case your nosy coworkers were trying to listen in on your conversation.

Ino nodded. “Yep, I am.”

You couldn’t help but feel excited to meet another one of Nanami’s colleagues. He purposely tried to shield you from the jujutsu world, but it only made you more curious. Plus, you wanted to know more about what Nanami was like as a sorcerer. He was always so gentle and sweet with you. Well, except for in bed. But it was sometimes hard to imagine that he exorcised curses for a living.

“Do you know Kento well?” you asked curiously.

Ino nodded eagerly. “Yes! I worked with him on a mission once and since then, I’ve really respected him.” He blushed a little, rubbing the back of his head. “Nanami is my role model. I don’t see myself as a particularly smart guy, so whenever I don’t know what to do, I always ask myself what would Nanami do?”

Ino’s words were full of sincerity. In some ways, he reminded you of Itadori. Both of the boys seemed to admire Nanami in a way you would never understand as a non-sorcerer. But it made your heart full knowing that Nanami was a trusted mentor in his workplace.

“Does that mean Kento is strong?” You were a little hesitant to ask the question. As an outsider to the jujutsu world, you didn’t know what made a sorcerer strong. But if another sorcerer told you that Nanami was indeed powerful, you would feel comforted. You knew his job was dangerous, so you obviously worried about his safety, but you tried your best not to show it around him.

“Nanami is super strong!” Ino exclaimed, arms flailing around to emphasize his point. “He’s a Grade 1 sorcerer! That’s practically the best you can be!”

You bit back a sigh of relief. “That’s good to know. Thank you, Ino.”

The two of you continued to chat for the rest of your break, getting to know each other better. Ino even successfully squeezed out of you Nanami’s favorite bakery and favorite bookstore. He claimed he wanted to surprise the man with a gift he would actually appreciate. You encouraged him with a warm smile.

“Thank you for the tea and the conversation,” Ino said, sliding out of the booth. He hovered around you with a light blush dusting his cheeks again. “Um, next time you see Nanami, can you maybe ask him about my recommendation to a Grade 1 sorcerer? If you don’t mind that is!”

“Sure! Will do. It was great meeting you. Thank you for helping to keep Kento safe!”

Ino’s eyes widened at your words. He puffed out his chest proudly. “Of course!”

You waved at him as he exited the shop with a loud farewell.

After your shift, you had returned to your apartment to change and grab some things to spend the night at Nanami’s apartment. When you arrived at his place, the man was already setting the table for dinner. You hugged him from behind with a happy hum as finished his task. Nanami gently removed your arms from around him before turning around and greeting you with a kiss.

“Welcome home.”

“Dinner smells good,” you commented happily. “I’m starving!”

Nanami chuckled lightly. He pulled out a chair for you. “Sit down and I’ll serve you.”

The two of you sat at the table together, plates filled with delicious curry rice.

“How was your day today?” Nanami asked once you both started eating.

“Oh!” You swallowed your bite. “I actually met a coworker of yours. He came to the shop.”

“Who?” Nanami looked rather unhappy, gripping the spoon in his hand forcefully.

“Ino Takuma.”

Nanami sighed, rubbing his forehead in irritation. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to tell him to stay away from you. I have no idea how he found your workplace in the first place.”

“Huh? What? No, it’s fine! Ino was very kind and sweet. I enjoyed chatting with him. Also, don’t be too mad at him, Gojo was the one who told him about me.”

Nanami clenched his fist. The next time he saw that white-haired idiot, he was going to kill him.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “Kento, why are you so against me meeting other jujutsu sorcerers? These people are important to you, no? I want to meet them.”

Nanami refused to meet your gaze. He still wasn’t comfortable with the thought of you interacting with the jujutsu world, sorcerers included. “I’m just trying to prote—”

“Protect me, I know.” You let out a deep sigh. “But I don’t want you to hide your life as a sorcerer from me. It’s a big part of your identity, and I want to learn more about jujutsu so I can understand you, Gojo, Itadori, and everyone better.” You lowered your voice slightly. “I care about you all, you know.”

Nanami reached out across to the table to gently hold your hand. “I know,” he admitted quietly. “I’m sorry.” He knew that shielding you from the jujutsu world as much as possible wasn’t doing you or him any favors. But Nanami didn’t know what else to do. He never imagined he would be dating someone while working as a sorcerer. And he especially never imagined he would be dating a non-sorcerer.

Relationships between sorcerers and non-sorcerers rarely worked out, so Nanami tried to restrict your access to the jujutsu world as much as possible. He refused to talk about his missions with you. He tried to limit the presence of other sorcerers around you. He did this to protect you, but maybe he was doing it to protect himself instead. He didn’t want to lose you or scare you away.

“I do want to share my life as a sorcerer with you.” Nanami was struggling to find the right words. “But it’s difficult for me.” He had always envisioned his personal life and his work life as two separate spheres, but you were beginning to blur those lines. “I promise I’ll do better.”

You smiled softly, appreciating his efforts. “Well, we can take it slow.”

“Thank you.”

You were cleaning the dishes in the sink when Nanami wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his face in your neck. Both of you felt so much lighter after the discussion during dinner.

“Oh!” A sudden realization popped into your mind. “I forgot to mention. Ino asked me to tell you not to forget his Grade 1 sorcerer recommendation.”

Nanami groaned in the crook of your neck. “Of course he did, that impatient kid.”

“What’s a recommendation? Are you not going to do it?”

He sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“Kento,” you whined.

“Alright. I’ll explain it to you after you’re done.”

---

You had just finished class when a text popped up on your phone. It was from Gojo.

Gojo: Hey! Do you want to go to dinner with me, Yuji, and Nanami tonight????

Dinner? You felt a tinge of excitement.

You: Sure! I’m free!

You didn’t know what the occasion was for, but you were grateful for the invite. Gojo often stopped by at your workplace, occasionally accompanied by Itadori, to greet you and grab a sweet drink. But you unfortunately never had the time to properly sit down with him and catch up.

Out of all sorcerers you had met so far, Gojo was the most mysterious. After all, what sort of man wore a blindfold in public? And now that you thought about it, how did he always seem to know when you were working? Especially since your work schedule differed from week to week...

Weird.

Gojo: Great! I’ll send you the time and place later~

You: Thanks! See you then!

You were about to text Nanami and tell him you were looking forward to dinner when one of your classmates called your name.

“Yes?” you asked, looking away from your phone.

“Want to join our study group? We’re heading to the library right now!”

“Yeah, sure! Coming!”

It was only after you left the library several hours later that you realized you had forgotten to text Nanami. But you figured it wasn’t a big deal since you would soon see him at dinner.

Nanami looked at his watch impatiently. It was already past 5 pm. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be back in his apartment, prepping dinner for you. “What are we doing here, Gojo? I need to get home.”

The white-haired calmly rested his arms behind his head with a suspicious smirk on his face. “Relax, Nanami. We’re waiting for a surprise.”

Itadori perked up beside him, looking up at his sensei with wide eyes. “A surprise?! What kind of surprise?”

Gojo chuckled. “The best kind.”

Nanami let out an exasperated sigh. He removed his sunglasses and put them in his pocket. The three sorcerers were standing around in the middle of a busy street filled with pedestrians. “I don’t have time for such frivolities, Gojo. Excuse me, but I’m leavi—”

“Wait!” Gojo exclaimed. He waved at someone in the crowd. “She’s here!”

“She?” Nanami repeated, trying to follow Gojo’s line of sight.

It was easy to spot Gojo, even amongst the giant, moving crowd. The tall man towered over everyone else and his bright, white hair easily stood out in the background. You could see him waving his hand at you, so you waved back.

Squeezing your way through the crowd, you joined up with the three sorcerers with an excited grin. “Hi!”

“Say hello to the surprise,” Gojo announced, waltzing over to your side and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

Itadori looked thrilled to see you, but as your eyes shifted to Nanami, you immediately sensed something was wrong.

“Gojo, you did tell Kento you invited me, right?” you asked cautiously, looking up at the tall man.

The sorcerer hummed to himself for several seconds before responding. “Nope!”

You blanched. Uh oh. You should have texted him.

Nanami didn’t look too visibly upset, but he was pinching the bridge of his nose with a frown. When would that idiot stop meddling with his personal life behind his back?

“Na-na-mi,” Gojo said in a singsong voice. “Are you excited to see your stunning, beautiful, and gorgeous girlfriend? Shouldn’t you be thanking me for bringing her here?” The white-haired sorcerer pulled you even closer to him. He didn’t miss the way Nanami’s eyes instantly narrowed at him.

Nanami grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of Gojo’s grasp until you were comfortably nestled against his side. He couldn’t stand seeing that man's hands on you. “Don’t let him touch you. His idiocy is contagious.”

You giggled at the comment. Gojo let out a satisfied hum, watching the two of you together. “Alright, lovebirds!” He clapped his hands together. “It’s time for dinner!”

“Dinner?!” Itadori gasped. He started salivating at the thought of food. “Gojo-sensei, what are we eating?”

The tall sorcerer patted the top of Itadori’s head affectionately. “To celebrate Yuji’s last night as a dead man, we’re going to a steakhouse!”

The kid loudly cheered as you looked to Nanami for clarification.

“Itadori is being introduced back to the school tomorrow.”

“Oh, I see.” Gojo had told you before that the Itadori was supposed to be dead and not to mention his existence to anyone. You didn’t understand why and you didn’t ask, but you kept your promise. The young sorcerer bounced around excitedly before hugging Gojo. You couldn’t help but smile at the adorable interaction.

“Let’s hurry up, so we’re not late for our reservation.” Gojo started walking quickly through the crowd with Itadori right by his side. You and Nanami were a little ways behind them as you found it hard to keep up with Gojo’s brisk pace. He pressed a warm hand against your lower back, guiding you through the large crowd.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that Gojo invited me,” you apologized. Even though Nanami said he would be more open about the jujutsu world, you knew he was still sensitive about you spending too much time around other sorcerers. “I was going to text you but then some classmates asked me if I wanted to study with them, and I said yes because you know I need all the help I can get, and then I completely forgot to message you and by the time I left the library and actually remembered I didn’t text you, I thought it wasn’t worth it since I was going to be seeing you at dinner soon, and I, uh, yeah.” You winced, realizing you were rambling yet again.

“It’s not your fault,” he assured you. “That idiot always has something up this sleeve.”

“You’re not upset, right?”

He rubbed his hand up and down your back. It sent a tingle up your spine. “I'm not upset," Nanami replied honestly. "I’m glad you’re here.”

You slid into the booth at the steakhouse. Itadori was already seated across from you. Gojo was about to take the open seat next to you, but Nanami grabbed the back of the man’s uniform and shoved him away.

“Hey!” the sorcerer loudly complained.

Nanami sat down next to you, completely unbothered. “Sit with your student, Gojo.” You tried to stifle your laughter, looking at the two men in complete amusement.

Gojo slid into the booth next to Itadori with a carefree grin. Teasing Nanami was too easy when you were around.

The four of you had a pleasant dinner together. Your only complaint was the way Nanami rubbed your thigh with his left hand the entire time while waiting for the food to arrive. You were wearing a rather short dress which rode up as you sat down, giving him perfect access to your bare skin. It was incredibly distracting.

You were a little surprised that Nanami was doing something like this in public, even though it was mostly hidden from sight. Part of you wondered if it was because Gojo was present. Nanami always acted a little differently with you when the other sorcerer was around.

For some reason, you couldn't shake the feeling that Gojo knew exactly what was happening underneath the table. Even with his blindfold on, you could tell that the sorcerer was looking right at you with a knowing smile on his face. You felt a little flustered, but Nanami seemed completely unperturbed. Perhaps it was just your imagination.

After dinner, you followed Itadori out the front door of the restaurant.

“Ah! I’m so stuffed!” he commented with a satisfied hum, rubbing his belly.

“I hope you still have room for some dessert.”

The two of you turned back to look at Gojo. Nanami was only a couple of steps behind him.

“Oh! Dessert? Don’t worry, Sensei. I always got room for that!” He gave Gojo a thumbs up.

“Great! I happen to know an amazing ice cream shop around the corner!” You blinked in surprise as the white-haired sorcerer wrapped a long arm around your shoulder again and started ushering you towards the destination. “Let’s get going!”

What you didn’t see was the way Gojo turned his head back to send a smug look to his dear friend. Nanami glared at the sorcerer but didn’t intervene. The walk to the shop was short, and you didn’t appear to be uncomfortable, happily chatting away with Itadori about the best and worst ice cream flavors.

It wasn’t until you all arrived at the shop that you pulled away from Gojo and latched onto his arm instead. “What are you going to get?”

“Hmm. I don’t know. What do you want?” he asked.

You looked at the menu, eyes squinting in concentration. “I’m stuck between Peanut Butter Cup and Mint Chocolate Chip.”

“Pick one and I’ll get the other. We can share.”

Your eyes widened. “Really? You don’t have to.”

Nanami smiled softly at that adorable look on your face. He gently tucked a hair away from your face. “I like both of those flavors anyway.”

Itadori and Gojo silently exchanged looks with one another. They were both internally squealing at the cute exchange they just witnessed between the two of you. It was rare to see such a soft side of Nanami in public.

“Nanami,” Gojo cooed, a little jealous. “Do you want to share some ice cream with me too?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Huh? Why not?” the sorcerer whined.

“Because you’ll get the most sickening ice cream flavor of them all.”

Nanami was absolutely correct.

Gojo ordered a large cone of triple chocolate ice cream with chunks of brownies, cookie dough, and fudge mixed with swirls of caramel and marshmallow.

It was a complete abomination.

The four of you sat outside, enjoying the nice weather while indulging in ice cream. You thought it was cute how Itadori’s strawberry cone almost matched the color of his hair. Once everyone finished their dessert, the group finally split up. You waved goodbye at Gojo and Itadori. “Good luck tomorrow, Itadori!” He had shared with you earlier about how excited (and a little nervous) he was to see his classmates again. You hoped the reunion went well.

It was a quiet walk home with Nanami. The two you held hands, enjoying the calm atmosphere now that Gojo and Itadori were both gone.

As soon as you entered Nanami’s apartment, you took off your shoes as Nanami removed his blazer. “I had a good time tonight,” you mused. “Itadori is such a sweetie, and Gojo—”

Your words were cut off with a gasp as Nanami roughly pushed you against the wall. He put a knee in between your legs, and one of his hands began to crawl up your exposed thigh. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, shivering as you felt the pleasant tingle of his touch. He gave you such a heated look that it left you swallowing nervously.

“I don’t want to hear another man’s name out of your mouth tonight,” he growled in your ear.

You looked back at him, both half-amused and half-aroused. “I’m only yours, Kento.”

“Good.”

Nanami whisked you away to the bedroom as you laughed breathily in his arms.

---

Nanami surveyed the numerous body bags in the morgue of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

“Three Grade 2 sorcerers. One Semi-Grade 1 sorcerer. Five Auxiliary Managers. Two storage attendants,” Ijichi listed off the number of casualties.

Nanami clenched his fists. “This is the same curse that Itadori and I fought together, correct?”

“Yes,” the manager replied, pushing up his glasses. “Shoko confirmed that the bodies were all disfigured in the same manner.”

The sorcerer grit his teeth in frustration. He blamed himself. If he had been able to exorcise the curse back then, these innocent lives might have been spared. After all, it was his fault that Mahito had escaped. He hadn’t been quick enough.

“Gojo, can I have a private word with you?”

The white-haired sorcerer had been leaning against the wall the entire time, quiet for once.

“I’ll take my leave,” Ijichi announced, exiting the room.

Nanami broke the silence first.

“If anything happens to me, promise me you’ll take care of her.”

Gojo didn’t respond right away. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked in an unusually serious tone.

“Mahito is still around. My attacks are not effective against him. He seems to have a special interest in me, so there is a high probability we will run into each other again. And I may not be lucky enough to have Itadori by my side then.”

“No.”

“What?!” Nanami whipped around to face the sorcerer. The fury in his eyes was hidden by his sunglasses, but Gojo could sense the anger all the same.

“No, I won’t promise to take care of her.”

“Gojo, you—”

“Stop acting like you’re trying to die.” Nanami stiffened. “Take care of her yourself. You’re strong.”

A tense silence hung in the air.

Nanami let out a deep breath.

“Thank you, Gojo.”

---

The next day, Nanami had just finished a mission when the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event ended. He came back to campus to see all the students in baseball uniforms. Wasn’t the second day dedicated to individual battles?

“Oh, Nanami!” Gojo called out, jogging over to him. He had forgone his blindfold for a pair of sunglasses and wore a simple button-up shirt and pants instead of his normal uniform. “Too bad you missed the game! We won!”

“The game?”

Gojo nodded with a devious look on his face. “Yup! This year, the Goodwill Event winner was determined by a baseball game!” He laughed victoriously.

Nanami shook his head. Only Gojo could successfully pull off a stunt like this in front of both school principals.

“By the way, we’re going out for some drinks tonight. Even Utahime and Mei Mei said they would join. You should come. And bring your girlfriend too.”

“Absolutely not.” There was potentially a traitor among the group, and Gojo thought it was a good idea to bring you into the mix? There was no way he was going to let that happen.

“Too bad. I already invited her.”

“You what?! ” Nanami fumed.

“You mad or something?”

Nanami thought about trying to strangle the white-haired sorcerer when his phone chimed. It was a message from you.

You: Gojo invited me out with you guys tonight. Is that ok?

“Is that her?” Gojo asked, trying to peek at Nanami’s phone screen.

“None of your business.”

He began typing his response.

“I know you won’t say no to her,” Gojo hummed. The other sorcerer ignored him.

Nanami: Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together?

You: I have to stay a lil late at work :( someone called out sick so I’ll just meet you all there

Nanami: You sure? I don’t mind waiting for you.

You: Yup it’s fine! See you tonight!

Nanami locked his phone and put it away.

“So?” Gojo asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“She’s coming,” Nanami grumbled.

The white-haired sorcerer clapped his hands together excitedly like he hadn’t planned for this to happen from the start. “Great! I’m looking forward to tonight!”

Nanami glared at him in response.

“What? You still mad?”

Nanami tapped his fingers absentmindedly on the table. You still hadn’t arrived yet. Utahime was somehow already drunk, loudly laughing at something Shoko said. Gojo was bothering Ijichi who was sputtering nervously, and Mei Mei was silently sipping on a cocktail she forced Gojo to buy for her. Nanami bit back a sigh. He missed you.

“I heard from a little birdie that you have a girlfriend now, Nanami. And a non-sorcerer one at that,” Mei Mei commented with a sly smile.

Nanami looked at Gojo, knowing exactly who this “little birdie” was, but the white-haired sorcerer turned away with a whistle.

“A girlfriend?!” Utahime gasped. She grabbed Shoko’s shoulders and violently shook her. “Shoko, did you know about this?”

The doctor was completely unfazed. “Yeah. We’ve all met her before except you and Mei Mei.”

Utahime covered her face and made dramatic sobbing noises. “Out of all of us, it’s Nanami who’s dating first?!”

Nanami’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. What was that supposed to mean?

“Shoko!” Utahime whined. “Will you marry me if I’m still single at 40?”

“I’ll do it!” Gojo quipped.

The Kyoto sorcerer made a disgusted gagging noise. “Like hell I would ever agree to that!”

“I’ll do it for money. How much would you pay me?” Mei Mei asked.

“You guys are all terrible!” Utahime exclaimed. She latched onto Shoko. “Only Shoko is nice to me!”

“But I never said I would marry you,” the doctor pointed out calmly.

The entire table burst into laughter. Nanami quietly sipped on his beer.

“Sorry, I’m late!” Your bright voice finally caught the man’s attention. You waved at the group, heading over. Nanami got up to greet you but a certain white-haired man beat him to it.

Gojo called your name happily, wrapping you into an unexpected bear hug.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Nanami commanded, immediately dragging the sorcerer off of you and kicking him back into his seat.

You chuckled lightly before hugging Nanami too. Hesitating for a little bit, you decided to kiss the man on the cheek. You knew he didn’t like PDA, but you still wanted to greet him affectionately.

“I think you missed,” Gojo pointed out.

Flushing in embarrassment at Gojo's comment, you were about to pull away and take a seat, but Nanami suddenly leaned down and kissed you on the lips deeply. It was so unexpected that you couldn’t suppress the noise of surprise that left your throat. You could vaguely hear the cheering and wolf whistles from the table which only made you blush more. Nanami finally pulled away, leaving you breathless.

“Now that’s more like it,” Gojo commented with a slow clap.

Ijichi covered his face with his hands, unable to believe he witnessed Nanami in such a manner. Utahime’s jaw dropped open in complete shock. Shoko was busy rummaging through her purse for a cigarette. Mei Mei raised her eyebrows, impressed at Nanami’s boldness.

Gojo gestured to you. “Well, say hi to Nanami’s girlfriend, everyone!”

You shyly waved at them. “Hi,” you squeaked, still embarrassed.

Even though you had the day off tomorrow, you hadn’t planned on drinking a lot during the night. But Utahime challenged all the girls to a drink-off and you couldn’t resist participating to get to know the other women better. Mei Mei only agreed to partake once Gojo confirmed he would cover everyone’s tabs.

It turned out that both Shoko and Mei Mei had incredibly high tolerances. You and Utahime on the other hand, not so much.

You groaned, struggling to climb the steps up to Nanami’s apartment. After watching your pitiful attempt, the sorcerer lifted you in his arms and carried you the rest of the way.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you mumbled. You felt bad that Nanami had to take care of you, especially because you had not intended to get this drunk.

“Don’t apologize.” He carefully set you down on your feet as he opened his apartment door. Nanami helped you wash up and get changed before joining you in bed once he was done with his own nightly routine.

You were practically laying on top of Nanami while rubbing a hand down his firm chest. When your hand started to wander lower, he gently took it and brought it up to his face to kiss it. “We should go to sleep.”

You pouted a little but mumbled in agreement, rolling off the man and nestling into his side instead. “Good night, Kento. Love you.”

Nanami stiffened, suddenly wide awake after hearing your words. He was filled with such an indescribable emotion that it left him completely speechless. Nanami was worried you would be upset that he hadn’t responded right away, but he was instead greeted by the familiar sound of your slow, deep breaths. You were asleep.

He let out a sigh. Nanami wondered if you would remember your confession in the morning, but he doubted it. Your memory was always spotty when you got this drunk.

Nanami kissed your head, stroking your hair gently.

“I love you too.”

---

“Is something wrong?”

Nanami didn’t even look up from the newspaper he was reading to address the white-haired sorcerer. “Everything is fine. Why are you asking?”

Gojo hummed, tapping a finger on his chin in thought. His sharp eyes took in his friend’s appearance. “You seem a bit tense. You didn’t have a fight with the girlfriend, did you?”

“Nothing of that sort happened. And even if it did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“So you did have a fight!” Gojo exclaimed.

Nanami turned the page. “No, we did not. And just to stop your incessant bothering, I will tell you that she has a very important exam today, so I have not seen her in several days to allow her to focus on studying.”

“Ahh, I see!” It made perfect sense to Gojo now. “You look so tense because you’re sexually frustrated!”

Nanami crumbled the edges of the newspaper in his hands. “I refuse to talk about such things with you.”

“Oh, but you’re not denying it,” Gojo pointed you. “Nanami, there is absolutely no shame in talking about our sex lives. We should be more open about sex to destigmatize it. For example, last week I—”

“I’m leaving,” Nanami suddenly announced. He folded up his newspaper and exited the lounge. He’d rather fight four Grade One curses single-handedly than hear about that man’s sex life.

---

Nanami couldn’t keep his hands off of you. As soon as you walked through his apartment door, cheering that you were finally done with your exam, he immediately pulled you into his arms and kissed you wantonly.

Your absence in the past few days was so striking. He had trouble sleeping and didn’t even feel like cooking without your familiar presence around him. It was so good to have you back again.

You giggled at his eagerness, looking up at him with a knowing smile. “Did you miss me?”

Nanami was already ushering you towards his bedroom.

“Let me show you just how much I missed you.”

The next morning, you stumbled out of Nanami’s bedroom with a loud yawn. You had no class or work for the day, so you were looking forward to lounging around Nanami’s apartment as a reward for suffering through your exam yesterday.

You perked up when you smelled something good in the air. Popping your head in the kitchen, you saw Nanami flipping pancakes.

“Good morning!” You eyed the pancakes with a hungry look.

“Good morning. Breakfast will be ready in a few,” Nanami replied, adding more batter into the pan.

“Okay!” You left to quickly get dressed for the day.

By the time you returned, Nanami was setting down a plate on the table piled high with fluffy blueberry pancakes.

“Thank you for breakfast!” you said with a wide grin, snatching two pancakes and putting them on your own plate.

After eating, Nanami looked at this watch with a small frown. “I have to go.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll clean everything up.” You headed over to the door where Nanami was slipping into his shoes and putting on his blazer. Before he opened the door, you stepped in to fix his tie that was just slightly askew.

“I’ll see you tonight, handsome?”

“Of course.”

For you, Nanami would do everything in his power to make sure he finished work on time and returned home as soon as possible. He used to look forward to the end of the workday because he hated working. But now he looked forward to the end of the workday because he got to see you.

As a jujutsu sorcerer, Nanami knew he couldn’t take anything for granted. Any amount of time spent with you was absolutely precious to him. So he wanted to make sure to maximize that amount of time as much as possible.

Nanami leaned down to kiss you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You blinked.

Huh?

Did he say…?

Wait, did you say....?

Your eyes widened in realization as you covered your mouth in shock.

Nanami said he loved you.

And you immediately said you loved him back.

The words had slipped right out of your mouth without you even realizing it.

“Enjoy your day off,” Nanami said nonchalantly before exiting the apartment. The door gently closed shut behind him.

When Nanami arrived at work, a certain white-haired sorcerer knew something was different about his friend.

“What happened with her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gojo grabbed his phone and dialed a number quickly. “You owe me money, Mei Mei! I won the bet! I told you they would confess their love to each other before the end of the month.”

Nanami clenched his jaw.

Bet?

The sorcerer menacingly stood over Gojo, sword withdrawn and cursed energy swirling around him angrily. “What bet?”

Gojo removed the phone from his ear. Mei Mei could be heard angrily yelling from the device, clearly upset about losing a large sum of money. “Now, now, Nanami. You’re only this angry at me because I’m correct, right? You two finally confessed to each other?”

Nanami took his tie off and wrapped it around his hand.

The white-haired sorcerer threw his head back with a howl of laughter. “I’ll take that as a yes! But before you try to kill me, just know that a) it’s impossible and b) I only agreed to this bet to prove Mei Mei wrong. She didn’t think you had it in you to confess so soon! But I always had faith in you because I’m such a good friend!”

Nanami took a menacing step forward towards Gojo, but the sound of his phone chiming stopped his advance. Gojo took that as a sign to escape with his loud laughter still echoing in the hallways.

With a sigh, Nanami unlocked his phone to read the text from you.

You: Wanted to say I love you ♡

You: Just in case you didn’t hear earlier

You: But I’m pretty sure you did...

You: I just want to be sure

You: Anyways I’ll see you later :)

You: Miss you already

You: I'll try not to destroy your apartment

You: Ok sorry I'll stop bothering you now

He couldn’t wait to come home to you tonight.

#nanami x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami smut #kento nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #mine #n/sfw

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imagineabrighterworld · 3 years

Text

A Heart Meant for Two

A/N: A poly relationship between Hawks, Dabi, and the reader! Based on the song The Way You Say Hello by tiffi and City Girl ^^

“He said he loved her more than words, so instead of words he gave her flowers to observe”

Hawks was your first boyfriend to ever have a current boyfriend. It was an odd adjustment to get used to sharing your boyfriend with someone else, especially when you first met Dabi. But with some help, you got used to it quickly.

“Flowers?” You eye the bouquet of roses in Keigo’s hands. He had given you flowers before, but these felt like a bribe. You peer at him with suspicious eyes, snapping your book shut. “What did you do?”

“Can’t I buy my best girl some flowers?” The Winged Hero replaces your book with the flowers, flipping through the pages before tossing it to the side. As he sits down next to you, his wing instinctively wraps around you to pull you in.

You press yourself into his side and bury your nose in the flowers, breathing in their sweet scent. A small smile forms on your face. “Hmm.. You're either planning something stupid, or it's Dabi that is doing something stupid.”

“Kid-”

“It's Dabi isn't it.”

From the flash of blue light coming from outside and the nearing of police sirens, you know the answer.

“They were also on sale.” Keigo murmurs under his breath, turning his head to hide his blush of shame as you laugh.

It had been a full four months since you started dating the two of them and Keigo still thought you were woefully ignorant. But you were much more observant than he thought. You knew your other boyfriend was a villain, one that still had a long way to go if he was to be pardoned of his crimes- that is, if he wanted to be pardoned. It was that bit of information that you did stay ignorant on, you didn't want to lose sleep on something like that.

You sigh happily and give your boyfriend a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you.”

Later on, Dabi would return home with another bouquet of flowers. A bit crumpled from him jumping over fences, but still intact.

Your boyfriends were weird, but you loved them.

“She drew him pictures in a card, he said it was tacky and almost broke her heart”

Dabi was not a spoonful of sugar and sometimes he could be a bit blunt. Painfully blunt. How you got used to his silver tipped tongue? You didn't know. Maybe it was a skill you should add onto your resume.

Removing your heels at the front door, you slip on a pair of slippers and sneak your way into the house. Dabi was the only one at home, the main indicator being the lack of Keigo’s jacket on the wall hook while Dabi’s boots were tucked away in the corner.

You duck low as you hear a quiet snoring from the couch in the living room. With soft steps, you creep in on a sleeping Dabi and lean over the cushions to reach him.

His arm was slung over his eyes, his mouth parted slightly as he sighs. Sleeping Dabi was the softest you've seen him. He was always smirks and sharp lines, but when he was asleep he was so.. Soft.

“What do you want?” A low grumble rises from Dabi’s throat. He moves his arm to uncover an eye. The piercing blue cuts through you and leaves you halting in your movements. That's to say, you stopped your hand from removing a card from your purse.

“I wanted to give you something.” You pull out the card and offer it to him.

He shuts his eye and- goes back to sleep?

“Dabi?” You whisper.

He opens his eye again and swipes the paper from your hand with a huff. Dabi sits up before paying your card any mind. Flipping it open, he runs his eyes over the drawings inside.

“Is that supposed to be a cat?”

“It's a human.”

“ It's a human, she says.” Dabi chuckles, laying back down and covering his face with the card, resting his arms on his chest in a mummy like fashion.

"Do you like it?"

"It's garbage, babe."

It stung until you found it tucked away in his chest pocket while doing laundry a week later.

“I know he hates the way she does her hair”

You constantly changed your hairstyle. One day it was braided and the next it was in a high ponytail, or cropped to your chin. Every style looked good on you, but the day you started dying your hair was the day Dabi grew truly frustrated. Though.. Not for long.

“Dabi!” You yell from inside the bathroom, your white towel now shades of purple. “I think I messed up!”

“You think or you know , babe?” He hisses as he nears the bathroom. The lights were far too bright after he had been napping for two hours. It was nighttime, nearly one in the morning according to the clock on the wall. And you were doing your hair? When you had work the very next morning?

As soon as he witnesses your hair, he knows that you know just how badly it went. He holds onto the doorframe and laughs heartily, bending over slightly as his lungs begin to burn.

“Come on it's not that funny!”

“Your towel has more hair dye than your hair does!”

It was true. Your hair was supposed to be a deep indigo, but all that was left after rinsing off the excess dye was a few lavender streaks in your now stained platinum hair. You had went to get it bleached a few days ago and today was the day you were going to color it. How did it go so wrong? The hair dye was rated so highly!

Your face burns with embarrassment. You move to shut the door on him. “If you wont help me I’ll just-”

He moves his hand in time to stop you from closing the door and pushes it open further to let himself through. “I never said that, did I babe?” He breathes in slowly to ease his now stinging lungs. “Sit down, I'll do it for you. I have more practice.”

“I know she hates the way that he pretends to care”

Keigo wasn't without his own flaws. Dabi was the villain, but Keigo came with his own problems. They weren't too big, luckily, but it wasn't always easy being on the receiving end of his disinterest when he was tired.

You lay in defeat on the floor, your arms spread out with empty clothes hangers on your arms. Tonight was your high school reunion, a day you had been planning for since the email was first sent. The only thing you didn't have planned was your outfit. Which was why you wanted some input from your significant others, but unfortunately only Keigo was home.

Why was it unfortunate? He was tired. And when he was tired he never had much to say, or any energy to do anything other than breathe.

You look up at him from the floor and poke at his wing. “Keigoooo!”

Keigo was laying on his stomach, his right wing drooping downward as he attempted to sleep. “Mmnn..?”

“What do you think about this one?”

“It's beautiful.”

“You're not even looking.”

“Mm..”

“Birdbrain.”

“I know she'll slightly disagree on what he wears”

You loved Dabi’s odd sense of fashion and went shopping with him for matching outfits (something he said he hated, but would never stop you on doing), but Keigo.. had a special sense of fashion that always managed to confuse you. Maybe it was best you stopped going to him for his input.

"You'd think that being in magazine shoots would help you gain a fashion sense." You say from behind a fist, your hand curled to hide your grimace.

"They dress him. What do you think he'll learn?" Dabi chimes in from behind you. He laid on the bed with pillows propping him up in order to watch the show that was Keigo dressing for date night. It was a little game Dabi always liked to observe.

It wasn't that the clothes Keigo had were terrible. If they were in the right color they would look great. But.. they weren't in the right color.

They were every goddamn color in the rainbow.

Keigo looks at the vibrant pink and yellow jacket he was sporting and at the baby blue tank top he had on underneath. Vivid orange and purple peaked out from the windbreaker he wore underneath the jacket and you didn't want to know what other layer of clothing he had on under that .

"I think I look great."

"For a bird, babe." Dabi chuckles. "For a bird, you're a hot ticket."

"But not for a human Kei." You walk behind him and tug at the jacket. “Let’s just go with the other outfit.”

As it turned out, Keigo did have more in common with birds than just his wings. Bright colors were just as alluring to him as a bowl of seeds was for a sparrow. You kept this in mind for the next time you went shopping.

“I know he chokes when she sprays too much perfume in the air”

Your boyfriends knew they were difficult and could be major pains in the ass, but for once they would appreciate it if you didn't try killing them with your perfume. They knew it wasn't intentional, but how could you not notice the whole house smelled like you?

“Question.” Dabi rests his chin on top of your head while looking at you in the mirror. “You know what my quirk is, right?”

“I do.”

“And you know what fire does when in contact with alcohol, right?”

Now you look up at him, squinting your eyes at him as you lower your brush onto the sink counter. “Yes.. it's basic safety measures. Alcohol is extremely flammable.”

“Do you know what perfume has?” Your boyfriend smirks. He curls a lock of your hair around his finger and gives it a small tug.

You slap his hand away and turn around to look at him directly. You cross your arms and lean against the counter. He was being coy, but it was too early in the morning for this. He never stalled you from getting ready to go to work. “It has alcohol. What about it?”

He cages you in his arms, leaning in and letting a flicker of blue flame light the side of his face. But unlike usual, blue flames burst in the air for a split second, the sudden flash of heat startling you enough to bump into him as you jump away from the counter. Dabi turns off his flames and pecks you on the cheek.

“Unless you want the house to burn down, I'd stop spraying so much perfume, babe.”

After work you end up buying an alcohol-free perfume.

“But she likes the way it feels when he's right there”

After the third attempt at sleeping in the same queen sized bed at the same time, Keigo and Dabi decided to buy a new bed without you knowing. It went well until you came home early to them attempting to assemble the frame without instructions. But once it was put together and finished, you had to admit you liked the result.

“No more facefuls of feathers!” You squeal with joy as you leap onto the bed and spread your arms out, enjoying the spaciousness of it all.

Dabi sits down on your left while Keigo takes your right. He flicks your forehead to catch your attention and motions for you to tuck in your arm so he could lay down next to you. “Now you get why he doesn’t get to sleep in the middle?” He pulls you into a hug while flipping Keigo off from over your shoulder.

Keigo flops onto the bed, his wings spread out and covering the two of you like a tarp. “You're just jealous baby.”

You wriggle around and lay with your back against Dabi’s chest. Pushing his wing away, you stick your tongue out at Keigo. “Jealous of being attracted to stop signs?”

“It's a sexy red.”

“What about mirrors?”

“I’m a sexy man.”

“Birdbrain.” Keigo huffs and moves closer to the both of you, wrapping his wing to engulf the both of you. “The bed was my idea you know.”

“I know.” You admit. “Dabi doesn't care if he smooshes us to death.”

“Ouch.” Dabi murmurs from your hair.

It's not long after that you fall asleep in their arms, completely content to spend the rest of your night between the two of them. But when the winter came, you and Keigo agreed to keep Dabi in the middle to act as a heater.

“She loves him so much it's absurd”

It was winter when your boys began to grow more busy. Sometimes you would go to sleep alone, but you didn't let it get to you. You knew they visited the house when they could. What else would explain the endless supply of your favorite flowers in vases by the window or boxes of your favorite chocolates on the table when they weren't there when you left? The nights you did get to see them, you enjoyed their presence to the fullest.

Keigo squeezes his eyes shut in annoyance as he hears his phone ringing once more. It was the third time in a row, and he knew he couldn't go on ignoring it anymore. Being a hero meant sacrificing down time. It meant sacrificing time with you.

“Kei.”

“Yeah?”

“It's okay.” You keep your eyes shut as you trace swirls along his back in the area between his wings. “I understand you need to leave.” You knew you couldn’t keep him forever. It wasn't right. People needed him. He saved people. It was like keeping a firefighter from putting out a fire right in front of him. If they were calling Keigo so adamantly then it must be important.

Keigo presses a kiss to your temple and releases his hold on you, letting you lay on your back as he tugs on his jacket and prepares to exit the room.

“I love you.” You say from under the still warm blankets.

“I love you too.” He smiles from over his shoulder, eyes pained.

What did he do to deserve you?

“He thinks it's cute that her singing is the worst he's ever heard”

After a whole month away from the two of you, Dabi had to admit that he missed Keigo’s stupid face and your singing. Was it good singing? No. But did he miss seeing you enjoy yourself? Yeah. Yeah he did.

Dabi sat outside the house, listening to your singing from his spot under the tree. He had yet to enter the house and opted instead to stay under the shade. He would have to leave again soon, so he saw no point in raising your hopes only to let you down.

A feather jabs at him from behind.

“You should go in and see her. She misses you.” Keigo lands beside him, lifting his goggles from his face. He crouches in front of him, running his gloved fingers through Dabi’s hair. “We both miss you.”

Dabi leans into his touch. How many times did he find himself missing it? Keigo was his first love after such a long time, but now there was you too. You both made him weak.

“I’ll be home soon.”

“And the way she’ll close her eyes, when she's nervous and just about to cry”

Keigo and Dabi didn't always agree on everything. That was a given when one was a hero dating a villain. But what they constantly agreed on was making sure you were kept out of the fray.

The shopping district was utterly decimated and all you felt was heat. A sweltering heat that couldn't be put out. Blue flames surrounded you on all sides, flames you knew instinctively were Dabi's.

"What's going on?!" You yell as debris falls around you, Dabi was just there- you could've sworn you saw him! It had to be him! Where else did the flames come from?

A hand wraps around your bicep and pulls you upward, the familiar sight of red wings takes up your vision as you look at Keigo. He was covered in ash and his goggles were cracked in half atop his head. He squinted through the smoke that was building in the air.

"The League is here. I'm getting you home."

"What about Dabi?! He's here, we need to bring him home too!" You look behind you at the structure that began to cave in on itself, all you could see was blue. "He's in there!"

"And so is Shigaraki! You can't be here kid!"

"We cant leave him! Please Keigo!" Tears blur your vision as all you can think about was how burnt Dabi's skin already was. What would being in the center of that fire do to him then? What kind of state would he return to you in?

"I'm sorry kid.. He's the one who warned me you were there.."

“He likes the way she plays songs on repeat”

Keigo watched as you grew more and more despondent, shutting down as more time passed that Dabi was gone. Japan was in an uproar, and it kept calling him back to patch it up each time villains showed. Japan was like an open wound that wouldn't stop bleeding. However, this changes one day as he comes home to hearing the sound of music blasting on your speakers.

Lights were strung up from the front door to the living room to the bedrooms, fairy lights dotted every inch of the house. Keigo tucked his wings in taunt to his body to keep them from getting tangled in the haphazardly placed lights. While he loved bright colors, it was almost too much for his eyes. Where were you?

"Kid?" He calls out, ducking underneath bluebell lights. "Please tell me you're still alive in here?"

The song on the speaker repeated on itself, which was odd with how clunky it sounded, but he learned to like it once he found you.

If choppy music was what it took to bring a smile back on your face, it was worth it.

He found you taping up lights in the bathroom while singing under your breath, mascara smudged but a smile still on your face. You look at him with your hundred gigawatt smile. It threw him for a loop, the sudden hope in your eyes when only yesterday you were crying yourself to sleep.

"Its for when he comes back. Want to help me?"

Keigo takes the loop of lights from your hands and nods.

"Make some room kid."

“He likes the way they flow together like electricity”

Covering the house in Christmas lights was actually a fun distraction for the both of you while Dabi was gone. Keigo was in charge of the higher lights that covered the rooftop, but you had plenty of fun stringing them around the plants surrounding the house. After finishing your impromptu decorating, you both decide to spend the rest of the night in the living room.

"Just follow my steps, baby."

"If I followed you I'd end up on my face." You laugh while holding onto his shoulders as you both hovered in the air, his wings flared open to keep you both afloat. What steps was he even talking about? For the past ten minutes he just held you both up and spun in a lazy circle. His wings were doing all the work while his feet did nothing.

"I’ll make you soar kid." He winks at you. "One day you'll see. I’ll take you to dance sessions and everything."

"I'll hold you to it."

“He likes her ringtone and the way she'll say hello”

When it came to being part of the League, Dabi had to be careful on what information he let loose. They couldn't know about his relationships. If Shigaraki knew then he would most definitely use it to his advantage. Dabi had two weak points and that was you and Keigo. But when he was out with the LoV, he had his ways of being with you.

“Hello! This is my voicemail, which means I'm probably busy right now. Leave a message and I'll get back to you ASAP! Have a good day!”

Dabi holds his phone limply in his hand, looking up at the cracking ceiling of the League's current hideout. He had to make face for now, which meant staying away from you and Keigo for a while. Still, he had his phone, one thing he was glad Giran gave him after he burnt his old one accidentally. He knew you were busy, and he had no intention of talking to you while on the job, but to hear your voice was enough for him.

Weeks later, he welcomes the sound of your voice as you greet him, receiving him back into the house with open arms.

"Whats with all lights?" He laughs in response to your face nuzzling into his chest and feathers lifting the both of you to Keigo who stood in the doorway.

"Its to a bright future."

“He likes the way her hands feel even if they're cold”

Dabi couldn't blame you for having cold hands, but he found it cute how you were so insecure about being cold all the time. He loved how you latched onto him rather than Keigo when the temperature began to drop. Maybe it was the fact that he was gone for so long that he didn't mind being clung to. But somehow he found himself in situations he wasn't sure how to handle.

“How long am I going to be in the middle for?” He mumbles under his breath as the two of you cling to him from underneath piles of blankets.

“Until winter is gone.” You state simply.

“It isn't winter yet.”

“Did she stutter?” Keigo grumbles from under the sheets.

Eventually he would grow tired of it, but for now he let the two of you do what you wanted. He was home after all.

“And when she’s away from him, she’s away from home”

After two years of dating you knew you could never return to being without your boys. They were yours.

You reach upward, feeling the familiar rough texture of Dabi's scars along his neck and under his eyes. You drag your your thumb softly under his eye, breathing in his scent. From behind you, you could feel Keigo's breath fanning across your neck.

It was a lazy day today. No one needed them, no one needed you, it was just you and them. How long would the peace last? How long until one of your boys were called away? How long until one of them lost a battle?

No, you wouldn't think of that. For now, it was just you and them.

And that was alright with you.

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jkstompers · 3 years

Text

noise complaints | myg

pairing: min yoongi x female reader

summary: yoongi is tired of his loud, video game addicted roommate, so he decides to move out and get his own apartment for some peace and quiet. but with his luck, gets you as his neighbor: a girl who plays bass in a band and hates the feeling of earbuds in her ears.

word count: 5.8k

genre: neighbor!au, producer yoongi, bassist oc, pwp ( ；∀；) i tried but rlly it’s just... smut

warnings: mature!! (18+!), explicit language, smut, making out, fingering, dom!yoongi, he’s a little mean

author’s note: hi!!!!!! in honor of yoongi’s birthday, i wanted to post this fic that i had sitting in my drafts! i hope u enjoy!! (´⌣`ʃƪ) pls let me know what u think!

banner pic creds here <3

yoongi doesn’t know how to tell his roomate, mark, that his gaming obsession has driven him to take extreme measures that consist of: moving out. he never stops playing video games. all day, all night, his eyes are fixed on the computer or tv screen, always screaming to his team mates about where to go or who’s fucking up. yoongi’s not sure if he can take it anymore.

he’s finally saved up enough to move into an apartment of his own, he’s been planning this for almost 6 months; already visited the apartment complex, discussed prices, background checks, etc. all yoongi really needs to do is finish signing the papers and start moving in.

he decides to just let mark know, no sugarcoat. as yoongi expected, mark practically begs on his knees for him to stay. his parents are paying for his share of the apartment but only if he splits the cost with a roommate, but yoongi’s gone through two years of it already, he’s over it. over the next few days, mark watches yoongi dejectedly as he packs his things.

by the end of the week, yoongi has finished packing and already signed the lease. he tells mark ‘good luck’ and leaves him in the dust, hopefully he’ll find another roommate, but that’s beyond yoongi’s concern now. all he has to worry about now is unpacking his boxes in his brand new apartment.

he looks around at the empty space, with the boxes cornered in one section. he smiles to himself, no noisy roomates, no unwashed dishes, no dirty laundry, ah, finally. peace and qui—

and that’s when he hears the blare of your speakers, it’s not loud enough for the entire complex to hear, but the music obviously bleeds through the shared wall. yoongi groans, knowing that this could be a complete repeat of mark. he’s not sure if he should knock on your door and ask you to lower the music down, it’s only his first day here. don’t you treat your neighbors with respect? why are you so loud?

yoongi decides to ignore it for now. he unpacks his things and starts furnishing the room so he can have a place to sleep for the night. when everything is put together, he feels the weight of the day; how much he’s been lifting and how he’s now renting an apartment hits him all at once. the dull pain resonates in his arms, his head starting to ache, and you’re still playing your fucking music. he can’t take it anymore, especially not with this ache getting worse.

yoongi feels his fist knock angrily against your door three times, he waits for you to open the door. except, he was not expecting a pretty girl to answer, he was expecting maybe an obnoxious frat guy; he’s absolutely flustered. you stand there and look up at him confused, “hi? did you need something?” your voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

“i’m— uh, i’m your neighbor, i’m sorry to disrupt, but if you could just lower your music down a bit, i’m really tired, and—” he starts but a gasp of excitement leaves you, cutting him off.

“my neighbor?! that apartment has been empty for so long! i’m so sorry, i was just so used to no one being able to hear! welcome! i’m ___!” you greet him cheerfully, taking his hands into yours and shaking them. yoongi feels his cheeks turn pink, your hands are soft and you’re so pretty.

“my name is yoongi,” he replies, he stands there not really knowing how to respond to the way you’re so excited. he wishes he could reciprocate but his head is pounding, all he wants to do is sleep.

you pick up on his energy, letting go of his hands to wave him off, “i’ll turn the music off for today, get some rest, yoongi, if you need help, some sugar or something, you can always just knock on my door,” you smile.

yoongi nods, “thank you, ___, goodnight.”

“goodnight, yoongi! nice meeting you,” you reply, closing your door. you blush behind the door, a neighbor? a cute one at that? there’s a sudden rush of adrenaline pulsing through your veins, testing you, telling you to blast your music just so he could come back and you could look at him one more time. but you decide it’s better not to, he said he was tired, maybe tomorrow.

yoongi returns to his apartment, thankful that you kept to your word and kept the music off. his body drifts his pounding head to sleep.

two weeks had gone by before yoongi’s eyes, he spent most of it buying furniture since the apartment looked so bare. one upside to a loft apartment was that he didn’t have to buy too much furniture, a bed, a couch, a tv, and maybe a rug was enough for him, for now of course.

in the time that’s passed, he’s learned that you like playing music when you’re studying, cleaning, when you’re doing anything really. whenever he thinks it’s too loud, he knocks through the wall, you get the hint most of the time. he’s also learned that you can play the bass and that you’re in a band. speaking of that, you’re having a meeting with them right now, and yoongi can hear every word of it.

your band mates decided to barge into your apartment today, waking you from your study nap and telling you that you all need to practice. the volume of their voices is jarring, you never realized how loud you and your surroundings were until yoongi moved in. you’re suddenly conscious about your volume at all times, his knocks whenever you were loud always made you feel terrible, but you couldn’t help but blush whenever you thought of him. you were torn, be loud and get his attention or be quiet and get on his good side.

“___! grab your shit and let’s go!” jungkook shouts. he’s the guitarist and lead singer of the band; he gets impatient sometimes.

“oh just let her daydream for a little bit, she’s probably thinking about her hot neighbor,” seulgi teases. she’s the drummer and your best friend. you don’t let her comment pass so easily, but you try to ignore the way your face heats up.

“you think he’s hot?” you quip back. a smirk on your face as you zip your bass into it’s case. yoongi is surprised at the way he can hear your voices so clearly, he wonders if you guys always talk this loud or if the walls are really that thin. “you haven’t even seen him yet,” you lug your bag over your shoulder.

“he sounds hot.” she shrugs, taking a bite of the apple she stole from your fruit basket. jungkook grows more and more antsy the longer you both talk.

“where’s taehyung anyway?” you ask. the realization comes to you when you feel a missing presence, knowing your 4th member would say something about yoongi.

“how nice of you to finally ask, he’s been waiting in the car for you slow pokes, let’s get going.” jungkook rushes, pushing you and seulgi out of the door. you turn to lock the door when you hear the door to your left slide open.

“oh my god, jungkook look, he’s hot.” seulgi smacks jungkook’s shoulder to make him look. your eyes are glued on the figure standing outside of apartment 77.

“hi— hey, yoongi,” you greet him while locking your door. it’s embarrassing the way the three of you are all almost drooling at the sight of him.

“hi, ___,” he sends a small smile to you, looking over to your bandmates hesitantly. yoongi notices jungkook, an assumption is made in his head almost immediately, boyfriend?

you scramble next to them and introduce them, “yoongi, these are my bandmates, seulgi, she plays the drums, and jungkook, he plays guitar and sings, there’s taehyung too, he plays guitar too but he— he’s um, in the car.”

“ah, nice to meet you.” he nods, greeting them as well. “i actually have to get to work, but it was cool meeting you all,” he excuses himself. you all wave to him.

“way to be fucking awkward guys,” you scold them when you’re all walking to the car. taehyung looks up from his phone to see the three of you walking his way, he starts the car once you open the door.

“hey, not our fault he’s good looking,” jungkook shrugs and seulgi holds her hand up for a high five, which he gladly gives her.

“not fair! you guys got to see ___’s hot neighbor while i was stuck in the car? i knew i should have just came in,” taehyung grumbles, pulling out of the apartment complex’s parking lot.

“it just so happened that he was leaving his apartment the same time we were, maybe you’ll meet him too tae,” you rub his arm. a somewhat sarcastic tone in your voice. taehyung rolls his eyes, starting the drive to the studio.

the music in the car was overshadowed by taehyung and seulgi arguing about when you and yoongi would finally hook up. you had to remind them that he hasn’t even been here a month yet, and that you guys barely talk besides the small hellos and awkward run ins when you’re doing laundry. it seems to keep them quiet, taehyung parks in the lot and you all move into the studio, making your way to the practice room the owners thankfully let you use to rehearse.

a couple songs are played and you all vote for a break. taehyung and jungkook having a guitar battle, seulgi leaning back against the wall on her phone, and you, need to pee! you leave the room and use the bathroom as usual, but a familiar bleach blonde head turns the corner and starts to walk down the hallway towards you, the breath you’re holding turns into a gasp when you realize it’s him. “yoongi?! why are you here?”

he looks up from the ground, looking as surprised as you when he realizes you were talking to him, “i work here, why are you here? are you following me?” he grills, you scoff at the question.

“i’m with my band, we’re rehearsing,” you explain. he raises his eyebrows, you’re not sure what it means. “you don’t believe me?” you pose.

“it’s just a little suspicious,” he shrugs, yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing. he hopes his hint makes sense to you, he’s never really been good at flirting. a familiar feeling erupts in his stomach, one that people could call butterflies whenever he saw you. he really just wants to see you play, and to hear you sing, that’s what he wants the most.

“uh, i can bring you to them? i promise i’m here with my band,” you laugh, warmth spreading to your cheeks. there is no way in hell that you’re going to play in front of yoongi. you were confident sure, but your embarrassing crush on him will make your fingers shake when you try to press the strings down. it’ll be a shitshow!

“can i pee first?” his small laugh brings a smile to your face. boys pee fast, you’ve learned that over time, so yoongi doesn’t take long. you’re both walking back down the hallway, “your boyfriend isn’t angry that you’re with me?” the random question makes your steps stutter.

“i’m sorry, what? boyfriend?” your eyebrows are furrowed as you stare up at him, his face isn’t showing any sign of humor, he’s serious.

“you’re not dating one of your band mates? isn’t that how it usually goes?” his lips purse as you continue to walk to the room that your band is occupying, he’s so serious that it makes you laugh.

“oh my god, yoongi, i’m single as a pringle, they’re my best friends, our number one rule is to never date within the band, that’s how things get messy,” you explain. a weight is taken off of yoongi’s shoulders, it wasn’t his fault he thought of it; you’re beautiful and surrounded by people that probably want you as much as he does.

“oh,” he answers, you both turn the corner and approach the door, “good to know.” the door opens to your three members looking at the two of you with raised eyebrows.

“oh my god, it’s him,” seulgi points to yoongi with her drumstick. you wave your hand to signal her to put it down, ‘it’s rude!’ you mouth.

“are you yoongi?” taehyung asks, taking his guitar and putting it down on it’s stand. yoongi nods, holding his hand out to shake taehyung’s, which he doesn’t take. instead taehyung pulls him into a hug, yoongi doesn’t expect the sudden action of affection, his arms not knowing what to do. “it’s so nice to finally meet you! ___ talks about you a lot,” taehyung’s confession makes your face flush.

“taehyung! what the fuck!? i’ve talked about you like twice, yoongi, i swear,” you defend yourself, pushing taehyung off of him. you laugh awkwardly, yoongi shoots you both a gummy smile.

“nice to meet you, taehyung,” he completely ignores your defense. he finds it cute, your flustered face as you try to tell taehyung to shut up.

“anyways,” you huff. “yoongi thinks i followed him here, so i am showing proof that i’m actually here with you guys and not stalking him.”

your friends snort at the same time, “actually, yoongi, we have no idea who this girl is! i think she’s following you,” taehyung whisper-shouts, you smack his shoulder.

“no but really, ___ we were just gonna call it a day, seulgi said she has to go to a family dinner soon and taehyung said he was hungry,” jungkook speaks up. it’s then that you realize that their instruments were almost all packed. yoongi looks down at you, a small smile on his face once he realizes what they’re trying to do.

“i leave to pee for five minutes and you guys hatch a plan to ditch me?!” you cross your arms over your chest.

“well… we just told you, so, technically we didn’t ditch you, also i can’t drop you off, yoongi, you can drop her off, right?” taehyung smiles to him.

“i—“ yoongi starts but you cut him off with plans to scold your members. they knew exactly what they were doing and you weren’t having it.

“taehyung, you’re dropping me off, let’s not bother yoongi,” you move to pack your bass but yoongi shakes his head.

“i can drop you off,” he smiles.

“oh, see! perfect! thank you, yoongi.” taehyung grabs his hand and gives him a good shake, before you know it your members are out the door.

you sigh as you lift your case and sling it over your shoulder, “it’s okay, yoongi, i can walk.”

he rolls his eyes, “don’t be ridiculous, are you hungry? we can eat first.”

his hand is outstretched and you’re not sure what it means, does he want to hold your hand? but no, he’s asking for your bass, so he can hold it instead of you. you reject his offer, “i can hold it.”

“you’re really stubborn,” he notes. it makes you snort.

“you’re not into stubborn girls?” the joke slips from your mouth before you can think.

this is the perfect time, yoongi thinks. “if it’s you, maybe i’ll make an exception.”

you try your best not to show any type of reaction, but you can’t really ignore the way your heartbeat quickened. yoongi leads you to his car, putting your bass in the trunk as you get comfortable in the front seat. he follows you soon enough and is driving out of the studio parking lot.

“you don’t have to work?” you question. getting into the car of someone you barely know is quite risky of you, but he was your neighbor, and he was hot. that doesn’t give you a reason to trust him, though for some reason, you think you can rely on yoongi, it’s a gut feeling.

“technically i work all day, i’m on my own schedule, i basically spend the entire day in the studio,” he explains. his focus is on the road but from his peripheral he can see your body turned to him, and your eyes glued on him.

“workaholic?” you guessed, he smiles.

“you could say that.”

“that’s good then, i’m giving you a reason for a break!” you clap, your nervousness fading as you start to get comfy with yoongi.

a friendship blooms from that lucky, odd encounter that day.

you forgot how long it’s been since you officially met yoongi and spent the day with him, maybe two months? three months ago? you never kept track. but you do remember that things changed after that. the two of you so obviously flirting with each other whenever you had the chance. yoongi would offer you a ride to the studio, which you greedily took whenever he asked; because he was a cool guy to be with, and in all honesty you were trying to put the moves on him. you’re not sure if he’s taking the hints though, you’ve never been good at the shy type of flirting, most of the time you’re upfront.

speaking of being upfront: yoongi hasn’t really been complaining about your noise lately, and it’s been eerily quiet on his end. no knocks on the wall when your volume was a tad bit higher than usual, no texts telling you to ‘be quiet’ when you were practicing late at night, nothing. you figure it’s because the two of you have grown a lot closer. hanging out together and even making some inside jokes together type of close.

it’s soon that you figure out why yoongi hasn’t been upfront, complaining to you about your noise, because he talked to your apartment manager about it. you knew namjoon well, he was one of your classmates in college. his father originally owned the place, so he’s been taking over for him. you’ve grown close to namjoon due to situations that left you outside of your apartment multiple times without your keys. his master key saved your ass one too many times. so, when you received a letter from him in the mail this morning with a big red ‘important’ stamp on it. you knew you were in trouble.

the words noise complaints, your neighbor, and eviction were the only ones you needed to read for you to be stomping towards yoongi’s apartment. you didn’t care that it was ten in the morning and you’re banging on yoongi’s door. you knocked nonstop until he opened up. his sleepy face scrunched in confusion as he stood before you.

“___? what’s wrong?” his morning voice could have made you melt, if you weren’t so fucking angry. you step past him, moving inside his apartment. “okay, come in, i guess,�� yoongi says as he shuts the door behind you.

“you complained about me?! i got a fucking letter from namjoon! he never sends letters!” you raise your voice. it’s too early in the morning to be yelling, your voice is a bit rough, it sounds like you’re croaking.

it’s also way too early for yoongi to be dealing with this, so his voice is soft when he says, “be quiet, we’re gonna get complaints from the other neighbors now too.” he walks up to you and your very angry expression. he just looks so kissable right now, it’s making you angrier. how could he look so perfect when you’re mad at him? that’s so rude!

you lower your voice when you ask, complying to his demand. you cross your arms over your chest, “why would you do that?”

yoongi laughs.

it makes your eyebrows furrow. was he not taking you seriously? you loved this apartment, you needed to live here. it makes the anger boil a little hotter. “you think this is funny, yoongi? i’ve—” your voice is raising once more.

this time yoongi rolls his eyes. “shut up.” his voice grew deeper than it already was, the bass traveling straight to your lower belly.

you try to act as if it had no effect on you, but your small silence before you spoke made things a little obvious. “excuse me? shut up?” you scoff. your feet carrying you closer to yoongi, breaking the distance in effort to intimidate. yoongi wasn’t one to be scared, if anything, he found it funnier.

but the way that your pretty face looks when you’re angry makes yoongi want to do more, wants to push and push because he can feel the tension between you both. you can too. “yeah, you’re so goddamn loud all the time, shut the fuck up.” he moves a little closer, the distance between you both is almost none.

it makes your eyes flicker to his lips. here you were, thinking that you were gonna teach yoongi a lesson, yet you want to kiss him. “want me to shut up?” your eyes move back to his, making eye contact. he licks his lips in anticipation. “make me,” you press.

you feel his soft hand against your cheek first, leading you to his lips. then it was the plush of his lips against yours. this feeling could definitely make you shut up. before you knew it, you were pushing yoongi over to his couch. he breaks the kiss to plop down onto the couch, you follow suit, straddling his lap.

“if you wanted to make out with me, you could have just asked.” you spoke before reattaching your lips.

he smiles into the kiss, “where’s the fun in that?”

the kiss deepens, tongues exploring each other’s mouths and small whimpers escaping your throat. they go straight to yoongi’s groin, you can feel his hard cock against your core through your sweatpants. instinctively, you grind down, the feeling makes him groan out.

his large hands move to your ass, running over them and trailing up to your waist. his hands sliding under your shirt, you know you aren’t wearing a bra, and yoongi finds out soon after. his thumbs running right over your hard nipples, “eager?” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, “i’m just cold.” the lie makes yoongi scoff, tweaking your nipples between his thumb and index fingers. now, goosebumps raise over your skin, and it wasn’t because of the cold.

“take your shirt off,” he speaks against your lips. usually, you weren’t one to follow orders, your rebellious spirit screaming in your head, telling you to take control. but you’ve never wanted anything more than to let yoongi have you, let him do whatever he wants to you. because outside of this, he just seems so nice, never mean, never demanding. you can’t help but indulge in this new side of yoongi you’ve discovered.

so you’re taking your shirt off, the breeze created by his air conditioner makes you shiver, but yoongi's warm hands are there to comfort you. running them over your breasts, squeezing them just right as he kisses down your throat. “y-yoongi—” you whimper. his lips find a certain spot that has you grinding harder onto his dick.

“you aren’t very patient,” he speaks against your skin. “i’ll let it slide this time.” a tender kiss to your neck is placed before he lingers on the spot a little longer, sucking and licking, making sure to leave a pretty red mark. he makes his way to your nipple, wrapping his mouth around the bud and sucking. the feeling makes you throw your head back, his hand tweaks your other nipple, refusing to neglect it.

it was true, you were not patient. you hated waiting too long for something, just like how you hate the feeling of your warm core go uncared for. the grinding wasn’t enough at this point, you wanted more, needed it really. “are you gonna fuck me or not?” you push him gently off of your nipple.

an almost annoyed gaze is painted on his face, “are you going to beg?” he quirks an eyebrow.

you weren’t one to plead, “no.”

“then no,” he asserts. you purse your lips, complete dissatisfaction displayed on your face. “don’t worry, kitten, i’ll make you feel good.” yoongi gives in. he didn’t know how long he could hold back, your attitude makes him want to check you, make you cum as many times he wants you to until you’re obeying.

the nickname makes you drip. he’s pushing up from below, his leg kneeling onto the couch as he lays you down. your head lays against the pillow he has on the couch, yoongi gives you a swift kiss before he moves down, trailing kisses on the valley of your breasts and your stomach, stopping just before the waistband of your sweatpants. “yoongi,” you mewl.

“hm? wanna beg now?” he challenges. his fingers teasingly slipping under the band. your body reacts so easily to his touch, your hips slightly jerking up at the graze of his hands.

but you’re stubborn, not wanting to let yoongi win even though the only thing you want right now is for him to make you feel good. “no, never.” you shake your head.

yoongi doesn't verbally reply, instead, nodding and smirking to himself. “can i eat you out then?” he asks. you don’t trust your words, so you nod, knowing you’ll fall into the trap yoongi has set. “i need to hear you say it, kitten.”

“yes,” you quickly say.

yoongi quirks a brow. “yes, what?”

you roll your eyes, just once, you tell yourself. “yes, please.”

“good girl,” he praises. you hate to admit that you liked the way he called you a good girl. your sweatpants and panties are pulled down at the same time, revealing your wet pussy. “so pretty, baby.” he positions himself between your spread legs. you bite your bottom lip in anticipation.

kisses against your thighs and pubic bone are what he starts off with, then a brief kiss to your clit that makes you gasp. “oh, god—” you lean your head back against the couch.

“also, just to let you know, the letter was a joke,” yoongi breathes. mouth ghosting your lips, where you need him the most.

at first you didn’t pay attention to what he said, a hum leaving your lips until then you realized, “what?!”

“i thought it’d be funny to scare you a little bit, namjoon and i are friends, i asked him if he could do it for me.” he explains with a smile on his face.

you rolled your eyes. you knew it was too serious to be namjoon, his style was more so speaking, not letters. you couldn’t be mad at him, at least you weren’t in trouble. but you play it up for the fun, “will you make it up to me?” a sly look on your face.

“what do you want?” he leans his head against your thigh, waiting patiently for your answer. his fingers ever so gently running up and down your thighs.

“your cock,” you demand with a mischievous smile. your hands run through his hair, eyes pleading because you won’t allow your mouth to let the words out.

yoongi acts like he thinks about it, but all he truly wants, is to devour your and make you feel so good. “you don’t deserve it.” he denies you of the pleasure you want, but he surprises you, running his tongue along your slit.

“oh— oh, yoongi,” you mewl. your hands moving to play with your boobs, but yoongi knocks your hands away. he directs them to his hair, telling you to pull. his hands replace yours, playing and tweaking with your nipples as his tongue does the work.

“taste so good, baby.” yoongi loves the sight of you so vulnerable in front of him. you’re bare, naked while yoongi still has all his clothes on. he loves it. your eager body twitching from the ministrations of his tongue. he pulls away for a second, “don’t cum until i say so.”

“that’s not— umph!” you start but yoongi retracts his hands from your breasts, bringing them back to your thighs to spread them further apart. your lips reveal your sweet spot for yoongi to take, and he’s relentless. the taste of you on his tongue drives him crazy. “that’s not fair,” you moan out.

yoongi doesn’t care. he loves being in control. so when your phone starts to ring, yoongi thinks this is the best time to assert dominance. “answer it,” he commands. he pulls away from your pussy, the loss of the feeling of his tongue makes you groan out in displeasure. in turn, yoongi rubs his middle and ring fingers against your clit. it makes you gasp. he slips the fingers in, your walls pulsating against his fingers. another moan leaves your lips. you were completely ignoring the rings coming from your phone. he repeats himself, “answer the phone, baby.”

“but,” you spoke. your worry being that you were so wound up and yoongi’s fingers were still residing inside of you. you knew it would be way too obvious.

“they won’t know,” he assures. a gentle touch against your thigh comforting you, making you believe this was a good idea.

your fucked out brain obliges, your hand moving to reach for your phone. jungkook’s contact name displayed on the screen, you press the green button and place the phone next to your ear. “jungkook? what’s up?” you answer. yoongi’s eyes locked onto yours as you speak.

“speaker,” he mouths. you nod, mindlessly obliging. taking the phone away from your ear and pressing the speaker button. his fingers dangerously still in your pussy, ready to cause chaos whenever he felt like it.

“dude! guess fucking what!” jungkook shouts over the phone. yoongi pushes deeper, bottoming out his fingers. it makes your eyes roll back, a quiet gasp escaping your lips.

you’re moving the phone away so he doesn’t hear it, but yoongi is pushing your hand back into position. “what?” you cough, trying to cover the noise.

“you okay? you sound… weird.” jungkook snorts over the phone, you can hear seulgi and taehyung in the back, their bickering all too familiar.

“i— i’m good.” you nod even though he can’t see you.

“okay, well, this guy from a record label called earlier, he said he wants to take us all out to eat and talk about our future!” jungkook informs. your eyes widen. a record deal?! even yoongi reacts, a cute, surprised look on his face. how funny was it that you were receiving this news with yoongi’s fingers fucking you.

“you’re lying.” you sit up a little bit, leaning onto your forearm. yoongi decides to be nice, letting his fingers stay stagnant in your hole so you can enjoy the news.

“i’m serious! we’re on the way to yours right now to pick you up, be ready in five minutes,” he tells you.

“right now?!” you exclaim. yoongi smirks, starting to pumping his fingers in and out of you, making your breaths a little more labored. “oh— fuck,” you groaned, you tried to cover it up by making it sound like you were annoyed. but anyone could be able to tell what you were doing, the squelch of your pussy loud enough for the entire apartment complex to hear probably.

“what the hell are you—” jungkook starts but you cut him off, yoongi’s fingers moving faster and the string in your belly about to snap from the tension.

“okay, jungkook! bye! love you! see you in a bit!” you rush the words out and press the big red button to hang up, throwing your phone onto the floor as yoongi leans over you with a smile on his face.

“congratulations, baby.” he punctuates his sentence with a quick circle around your clit. you’re so wound up, you could feel tears starting to build up in your eyes.

“yoongi, please, please let me cum.” you beg, giving in to his desires. the sound of your begging is music to his ears. he smirks, quickening the tight circles around your clit. your legs spreading wider if that was even possible.

yoongi’s plans were cut short due to your new plans, but he didn’t mind. he was happy for you, and he’s never wanted to make someone cum as much as he does now. “alright, kitten, cum whenever you want,” he whispers in your ear. his fingers coated in your wetness gliding against your clit, it feels way too good. the string in your belly snapping as soon as he gave you permission.

you found yourself letting out some of the loudest moans because yoongi was just that good. “holy fuck, yoongi,” you gasp. your chest rises and falls quickly, taking in as many breaths as possible.

“good job, baby.” he kisses your neck, letting you recover before slipping his fingers out and bringing them up to your lips. at first you furrow your eyebrows, this isn’t something you usually do; but when he says, “open,” you find yourself obliging easily. “good girl,” he smiles as you suck your cum off of his fingers.

you pull his fingers from your mouth when you’re sure you’ve sucked them clean, “i got a record deal dinner, min!” you rush to put your clothes on. yoongi tries his best to help, but all he wants to do is give you a big hug. he lets you put your clothes on before he’s holding you in his grasp, while you’re trying to make your way to his door. the two of you wobbling to his door.

“let me kiss you first, rockstar.” he smiles, his hand gently taking ahold of your face and giving you a kiss. it tastes just like you, the sultry memory that will live in yoongi’s brain for as long as it’s able.

he tries to kiss you once more, but you’re pushing him away. “i gotta go, yoongi,” you giggle. his hands holding you close to him, your back pressed against his front door as you kiss each other sloppily. “yoongi!” you smile, more laughs erupting as he helps you open the door. as soon as the door slides open, yoongi’s eyes move behind you, a sly smile on his face.

you turn to see your three band mates, all of their mouths agape. “i fucking told you! pay up, idiots!” seulgi smacks the both taehyung and jungkook’s shoulders.

your face blushes tomato red. you try to hide your face as you open your apartment door. before you turn the key, you hear yoongi congratulate the four of you. “good luck at your label meeting! make sure they don’t scam you,” he advises. your bandmates laugh, thanking yoongi and moving into your apartment. they don’t let you live down the embarrassment for the entire night.

when you come back home, you sit on your couch. a smile taking over your face when you think about how great the day was. you think the dinner went perfect, and when you hear a knock on your door, it has you rushing to open it.

yoongi stands outside your door with a cupcake and a single lit candle stuck in it. “congratulations!— it went well right?”

you stand in front of him, a sweet smile on your face as you nod. “i think they loved us,” you pull him into your apartment.

“of course they did! you guys are amazing!” yoongi hugs you, holding the cupcake above your head so it doesn’t get in your hair.

the rest of the night you and yoongi enjoy each other’s presence and the two of you talk about everything and nothing.

yoongi says the cupcake is just for you, but you take a knife and split it, “for us.” you give him a quick peck before eating your half, and then kissing him once more.

for us. it repeats in yoongi’s mind.

us.

yeah, he’d like that.

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tiens-letters · 3 years

Text

with these hands, I vowed to love you

with these hands, I vowed to care for you

and with these hands, I ruined you

Childe (angst)

tw : slight gore and just pure pain

...

It was that time of the year again, going back to the snowy region was a bliss for you. Having to visit your fiancée's family was an unspoken tradition after he introduced you to them. They practically took you in as one of them immediately, especially that little angel brother of his.

Teucer.

The train ride was comfortable , the window giving you the familiar beauty of the snowy landscape of snezhenaya. It was snug inside the rather spacious compartment Childe rented out, even when you told him that you'd rather share a normal one due to your thrifty nature he'd shrug it off, claiming it that he has too much mora and nowhere to spend it on other than you.

Gifts from him would scare you as you knew these weren't anywhere cheap. Everything he gave was expensive, he loved showering you in gifts and it made you feel so overwhelmed.

"Ajax, you're spending too much." you were visibly sweating beside him as he picked out another one of the dresses on display at the local boutique of Liyue.

"I think this one would suit you better, don't you think so love?" of course he wasn't listening, placing the dress in front of you

"Ajax." you frowned at him

" I just want to spoil you." he whines

"I know but sometimes its just..." you stopped yourself before saying anything further in fear of offending him

"Was it too much again?" the tone in his voice softens as he puts back the dress, he knew how you didn't like that habit of his, formed from the first time he saw you down by the docks.

"One dress, Ajax. One is enough since you picked it out for me." you gave in not wanting to see him so dejected, he immediately brightens up as he pecks you on cheek before rushing off to a different aisle of clothing. Sighing, you sat down on the sofa present in the shop, watching the ginger decide thoroughly of what dress to buy.

But of course, your love for one another runs deeper than things bought off gold nor silver. No, it ran deeper than anything else, rivaling the oceanic depths.

"What are you thinking about hmm?" he hums below you, head resting against your lap.

"Im just happy to be visiting again, that's all." you smile, nimble hands brushing through his soft hair "Sleep well?"

"You bet I did." he grins taking your hand and placing a kiss to your beating pulse and then another and another, showering you in his deeply rooted affection. Soon his kisses reached where they are supposed to belong, those soft lips of yours and then inching their way to the sensitive spots on your neck, leaving marks only he can place on you.

Breathless and bothered, you pushed him back "The attendants are gonna see, you idiot." at least you still had some control in you

"They will only arrive when we call them , so its fine to have a little fun before we arrive." there was that sly grin of his as he continued in where you both left off, ears perking to hear more sounds exclusively for him and him only.

"You horny bastard!"

...

It was cozy by the hearth, you and his siblings huddled together in one single fleece blanket, steaming cups of hot cocoa in hand. Childish giggles and hushed stories erupted amongst you. Teucer having wrapped in your arms as he snuggled closer. Anthon and Tonia flanking your sides.

"Hey, who's fiancé do you think you guys are coveting?"

"Oh don't be like that, your siblings just miss them." his mother chided from the couch where she sat, an open book on her lap, she didn't seem to age and always looked so young that at first you were shocked to have been introduced to her.

"But mom, I haven't seen her all day." her son pouts as if he were still a child denied his candy

"Give me a break, you're always clinging onto her you know." his sister rolls those identical thalassic eyes at him "You wont die if you go a day without her."

"Listen here you little---"

"Ajax." you interjected, as much as you enjoy the siblingly banter of theirs, you cant have them going at each other with offensive words. His pleading gaze aimed at you as he practically begged for you both to go home.

"Please?"

"After I put Teucer to bed." you sighed, standing up with the youngest in your arms

"Seriously this guy." his sister groaned "I was having a good time."

"Tonia dear, we can continue our conversations tomorrow." you winked at her, it was a promise

"Fine."

Both of you bid farewell to his mother and made your way towards Teucer's room and tucking him in.

"Happy?" you turned to your fiancée, a narrowed look in your eyes as he grinned beside you

"Of course, sweetheart!" he pecked your lips as he pulled you closer

"Can you not do it in Teucer's room? Have some shame." his siblings' comments were endless, this time it was from his older brother.

"That's why were going home." Childe picked you up as you made a surprised yelp making the other party roll his eyes "Also, get ready to lose tomorrow brother. I'm getting that white deer for my lady."

"I'm looking forward to it."

The walk was short towards Childe's home as he preferred living alone. It was a grandiose manor and you were sure you will never get used to how big it was and filled with such furnitures of the finest quality.

"Well, how was your day darling?" you hummed, arms snaking around his neck

"Oh you wouldn't believe it."

...

It was there.

You felt it in the cold breeze that wafted into the room.

A shift in the flow of the wind, it was different yet familiar at the same time. Leaving the window open as the harsh temperatures of the night climbed and crawled inside. The curtains danced in the turbulent current of the gale, carrying songs only you could hear. Songs that made mountains tremble and build civilizations at the same time.

there was something foreboding, something terrifying and something heavy and dark that devoured anything in its path.

You heard him first before he came in through those doors, that tousled ginger hair of his caked with melting snowflakes in the warm glow of the lamps. His rugged appearance caused by the hunting competition between him and his older siblings induced his worn out state. That soft yet jaded smile of his was what welcomed you as he trudged inside the bedroom, lazily discarding his clothes on the basket for dirty laundry and entering the bathroom for a quick shower.

"why is the window open? " he asks you, sliding inside the warm covers

"I just wanted fresh air ." you smile as you shut the windows and pull the blinds enough for you to see the moon that hung above the sky. Joining him under the covers, you cradled him, his head resting on the crook of your neck. Your hands finding their way into those soft locks of his , entangling them as he hummed softly against you. Those arms of his that held weapons and skin littered with scars both old and new now held you close, so tenderly as if he'd never taken a life before.

"sing me a song, sweetheart. " his queries were simple yet genuine

"of course." you sang until you equated him to a sleeping newborn

It was warm, so warm that you could have mistaken it for a summer afternoon in Liyue, resting on the couch with silken pillows and window showcasing the view of the harbor below. The steaming cups of soothing tea Beidou would brew for you when nights became cold at times she would pay you a visit after trading that would take weeks, months and rarely years.

you slept.

Why is it cold? you wondered, Did Ajax open the windows?

You were blessed by the tsaritsa so such climates shouldn't matter to you.

You woke up.

A shadow was cast over you by the man youve sung to sleep. Virulent blue eyes looked at you with so much abhorrence, for a second you couldnt recognize them and thought it was a stranger to which you were ready to terminate.

"Ajax?" your voice was hoarse, as you slowly lost the feeling in your lips.

He was crazed, still trapped in that dreaming state of his, drifting between experiences. Today was a re-enactment of a memory he would never speak of, not even to you. There were parts of him he'd never tell you, such a soul as yours should never hear.

You choked and coughed as the metallic taste of mortal ichor filled your throat. How could you have not felt anything earlier? Was it because of your futile attempts to coax Ajax back into reality or was it because of the numerous thoughts your mind came up with to he answer as to why he is in such a virulent state. Excruciating pain filled your whole body as you writhed and struggled under his grip. It felt as if something was being ripped out of you.

"Ajax, darling come back to me." you cried, it took so much to even utter a word as you bled out, you know not where but you could feel it. The liquid vital for your survival was seeping out of you, flowing like a lazy river on an autumns day, only that it was warm, sticky and addicting.

"Ajax?" a hiss comes from that mouth, he cringes as you freed your numb hands to hold his face and he let you, seeing as to there was no point in stopping you as you dangerously danced on a tight rope of life and death. You couldn't tell in that delirious disposition of yours if his eyes were shifting between Ajax or the primal eyes of a beast hunting its prey.

It wasn't too late was it?

But why didn't your eyes meet his?

Who snuffed out all the lights?

"I've abandoned that name a long time ago."

The cold took over you completely, freezing you until you broke under his touch with words left dying in your ichor filled lips

and then fear was the last thing you felt.

fear that he might not return to his sweet, charming self.

fear that he will curse everything in his path.

fear that he might attempt to use different various methods to bring back what was lost

and fear of his ruination.

you care not for your death, even in your last minutes of life, you dare not blame him for what he's endured so far. only wishing he never had to experience such in the first place.

This is what the wind warned you about in its lullaby.

...

Childe woke up for the second time.

Oddly more worn out than the day before, but your songs always worked, how come? . He wondered if you left to make breakfast as the covers felt empty as he reached out for you. No, you were a late riser, always having to slumber in the middle of the warm covers of the bed you both share. It was he who mostly did the cooking in the morning. So your presence gone was a displacement in the moment of his waking.

His eyes had to adjust to the view of the room as he sat up, a yawn escaping his lips as he called for you. The pitter-patter sound of the water on the bathroom tiles were non-existent as he strained his ears to hear for any trace of you.

"What..." he was confused as to why the room was trashed, furniture broken in half and strewn about the room, the drapes shredded and laying on the floor and the mirror shattered to pieces, shards sharp enough to cut through skin yet he slept through such a thing?

his first concern was your safety as you had not been present in the room and it him.

the heavy stench of blood lingered in the air. His enjoyment for such things turned into something suffocating because blood was never shed in his own home nor in his very room. In the state of confusion, something dark caught his peripheral vision. A large blemish in the covers beside him, it was dyed a deep dark crimson and he knew well what it was. He began to shake in worry, telling himself not to panic until he finds you safe. All he could remember was you singing him to sleep, held captive in your soft arms, encased in your warmth, so how did it come to such a morning that looked like a result of a monster's tantrum. He calls out for you, his bare feet on the floor as splinters punctured them and he didnt care. he had to find you.

The hallways looked haunting, the portraits on the walls taunting him and he swore he was going lose it if he hadnt found you sooner, every room was achingly vacant and it felt like a dream. He calls for your name again in a frenzy as he rushes through the place, had the mansion been this big? he thinks as he runs down the stairs.

There in the fireplace, the dying embers of fire lit from the night before, wood giving away and turning into coal as the burning smell mingled with similar stench that engulfed the bedroom, the same dark liquid on the sheets was present as well, only that it was painted into the wall and bled down creating a cascading waterfall.

Because there you were, with arms spread out as if welcoming each and every sinner for solace and blessing them with forgiveness, the drying mortal ichor behind you creating a halo. Your lips upturned into something soft as if you'd do anything disgraceful to keep the effeminacy on a soul lost to ruin.

an angel crucified.

that oh so heavenly face of yours could rival anything beautiful, even statues would crumble under you, nations would go to war for you and bodies of those who want you would turn into a throne built for you and you only. You were immortally ethereal even in death.

Ajax, dear sweet Ajax felt his legs give away, energy having siphoned from him as he trembled so much that it could rival the mountains when they shook. Thalassic eyes, wide blown into grief, anguish and all other emotions crashed against him like strong waves that could drown anyone caught up in it. He knelt as pain spread through him like wildfire, burning, scorching and killing. Agonized cries filled the room and if someone were to pass by, they couldve mistaken it for a dying animal. He gasped and choked on his own breath as he dared to look at you, the tears freely flowing from his eyes, down to his pale cheek and finally falling off his trembling chin to be hungrily absorbed by the carpeted floor that was also tarnished by ichor.

He felt crazed as he wept and in that moment of insanity, he remembered. That most disgusting sin he's ever committed that he should never be pardoned for in the life he has right now and the next ones he will be in. Through the blur of tears, he saw his hands and he wished he didnt.

Sullied hands befitting a murderer.

He screams into the ground, doubling over as his hands find their way into his hair, gripping it and ripping out those jacinthe locks of his. He could never forgive himself now and he never will. He wails out loud until his own throat collapsed into a croaking mess.

and then he couldnt find himself no longer.

The sand of time seemed to trickle down slowly. His eldest siblings came looking for him, to continue the hunt. A once peaceful encounter turned into a nightmarish reality as they witnessed their brother rocking back and forth with you gingerly wrapped in his arms, mumbling your name. Lips pressed to your forehead as he prayed and begged for forgiveness over and over in hushed torn whispers as if it were enough to bring you back and cover that gaping hole in your abdomen.

"What did you do?"

...

"Brother, when are they coming back?"

Oh darling Teucer, innocence reflecting off his eyes as he tugged on his brother's sleeve. The toy you gifted him clutched tightly at his side.

"I dont know kid, their mission was sudden so its best to wait. Can you do that Teuc?" the truth about you was kept behind closed doors, only adults can speak of and if they did, it took time to keep the conversation smooth and off of any grief nor sadness when your name reached their tongue. The younger ones would never know until the time is right. When everything was taken care of and hearts moved on.

Your funeral was held in secrecy yet was it was grand. Something that would hold the significance of your memories with them. It was beautiful, your favorite flowers lined along your coffin, and you. Looking ever so ethereal even when death has kissed you, clad in that dress Childe bought for you.

"uh huh!" the youngest ginger nodded eagerly and skipped away as the eldest sighed into his hands, the pressure weighing heavily on his shoulders as he worried more and more about his younger sibling. Another memory, a mind broken and a his soul withering. was there any way to save him?

Days seemed to go by as any glimpse of the man was scarce. Until one day they ceased to see him altogether. It started at lunch, a week after the funeral when it took everyone to coax him into eating more as he lost weight and trickled down to a whole day. Cooped up in his room, clinging to a pillow with the fading scent of you. and then he was gone, like a snowflake melting upon ones forehead. They grew anxious and thought of the worse until they caught wind that he was back in Liyue from one of the agents only then were they allowed to breathe a little better.

"Childe, what finds you here?" the calm tone of the geo archon's voice broke him out of his trance

"Have you seen my fiance?" Zhongli blinks at the question of the harbinger, he knew what befell you and yet this man before him seemed clueless enough as to what he committed. How Childe did what he did, he seemed to sympathize with in a way that would make him understand his behavior.

" I have not." he couldnt bring himself to tell this man the truth. Perhaps he was sparing him, spearing that mind of his into spiraling down into nothingness and a heart that was held by a thin piece of thread. "Perhaps it is better to enjoy yourself while you wait for them."

To deviate oneself from the loss might be the best way Childe right now until his mind is ready to accept the torment of the heavy truth that would slew this man.

"I see. " he smiles and yet it feels so empty to Childe, the reason? He wouldnt know or atleast his mind wouldnt allow him to know

"Ill see you around then Xiansheng."

Everything that he portrayed lacked and all he could do as he's always did.

...........

i had to.

I hope yall would get Childe :)

#genshin impact #genshin impact angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact drabbles #childe #childe angst #childe one shot #childe imagine #childe drabble #ajax #tartaglia

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amimimi · 3 years

Text

dreams; kyan reki

synposis: in which you tend to reki’s wounds after his second beef with adam; second part to this fic but it can be read on it’s own! takes place after episode 11

pairings: gn! reader x reki

genre: fluff. just fluff. and caretaking.

warnings: mentions of injuries. swearing. brief nudity (?) sap, so sappy.

word count: 3.5k

notes: i loved the series so much! reki has suffered enough, so i decided to show his some love. i was so so proud of him during episode 11. again, i apologize in advance for grammatical/spelling errors. i'm pretty busy with school so i'm just churning fics out at this point.

“i’m not letting you lift a finger for a month” you moan as you help seat reki on his bed. you’re both mostly dried from the rain, save for your hair and clothes. he only giggles in response and you can’t help it when you lean down to gingerly place your hands up to his face, kissing the bridge of his nose. “a month”

“ahh, i don’t think that’s gonna work” reki gives you an easy grin, before placing a kiss on the side of you mouth. “i got a shift tomorrow”

“i’ll cover your shift” you say, stone-faced. disbelief momentarily flashes across reki’s face before he breaks out into uncontrollable giggles—the kind that erupts straight from your stomach. your hands drop from his face. “shh! i’m serious!”

he hangs his head forward and brings a hand up to his mouth, attempting to quell his giggles. “you don’t even work there, y/n!” he manages to say before delving into yet another fit of giggles. reki must’ve curled in too far because his laughter is cut off by strangled cry. immediately, you surge forward, gingerly placing your hands on his shoulders.

it wasn’t unusual for reki to be banged up from skateboarding—everything from scrapes to fractures were all pretty common for him. in the beginning of your relationship with reki, it worried you to no end, and you even begged him to wear a helmet (he said no, of course). eventually you came to accept that injuries were going to be a normal occurrence for reki. but his injuries this time were slightly different.

reki had his second beef with adam earlier that night. technically reki had lost, but it felt more like a victory instead. he came so close, and he did so well. and he was happy. seeing him like that in his element, gleaming with joy, eyes lit a flame with passion—you felt like ten years was added to your lifespan. of course, reki took quite the beating but no where near the damage of last time.

“m’fine!” he wheezes, placing a hand over his stomach. “it’s just a bruise.”

you’re not convinced and it shows on your face because reki gently places his hand on the back of your head, pulling your forehead up against his. “i’m fine, baby”

you let yourself stay there, forehead pressed against reki’s and staring right into each other’s eyes. for the first time in weeks, you felt the tightness in your chest completely dissipate. because here you were gazing into his eyes—reki’s eyes, in his darkened room, knowing he was safe and okay.

“okay,” you whisper. reki gazes at you with half-lidded eyes and attempts to press his forehead closer (if that was even possible), brushing his nose against yours. “but i gotta patch you up”.

you wiggle out of reki’s grasp, who whimpers at the loss of contact, to grab the first aid kit he’d kept in his drawer. stumbling in the dark, you feel around for his desk, flicking on the lamp. reki watches you sift through the contents of his drawer, overtaken by a sudden wave of fondness. he loves you, always has. but suddenly, in this moment, he feels the love he has for you in a new way. it pools in his stomach, warm and fuzzy, and he feels so full, so content, like he ate a whole meal.

“i love you from my stomach” reki blurts out before he’s aware of what he’s saying. from over your shoulder, you glance at him quizzically and he feels a new sensation—mortification, burn all over his face. later, he’s going to blame his misspeaking on the fact that it was so late into the night and that every inch of his body was practically throbbing in pain. but right now, he can’t form any thoughts, let alone excuses.

“huh?” you’re facing him now, first aid kit in hand and your face twitching with the urge to smile. feeling his ears burn up, reki presses his lips and shakes his head, refusing to repeat what he said. “reki~! what did you say?”

he turns his head to the side as you make your way over to the bed. “i forgot”

“no you didn’t!” you whine, throwing the first aid kit on the bed and placing your hands over his cheeks. “say it again, please?”

“ahh, i meant it like—”reki pauses, thinking about how to put his feelings into words. “i-i don’t know! i love you, but sometimes i feel it in my stomach”

“oh”, you plop down right next to him on the bed, pulling your legs up to sit crisscross. reki follows your movement, pulling his legs up on the bed and crossing them. he’s looking at expectantly. “like butterflies, yeah?”

“no, not that. this feels warm—and kinda heavy”

“oh”, you tilt your head to one side and smile coyly. “so, desire then?”

reki rolls his eyes at you, his ears still red. “you’re so—”

“desperately in love with you?” you offer with a grin before leaning and catching his lips in a noisy kiss. you pull back, but not before kissing the tip of his nose just to see his reaction. reki fights back a smile, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as he shakes his head.

“j-just patch me up, please”, he sighs as his lips finally quirk into a smile.

“can I change first?” you ask. wet jeans felt like murder and your shirt was starting to stick in uncomfortable places on your torso. reki nods and points to his closet.

“i have clean shirts and sweatpants folded in there” he informs you, watching as you sit up and make your way over to his closet. reki’s not surprised when you grab his pink dope sketch shirt, shooting him a cheeky grin.

you start tugging off your jeans and reki looks away to give your privacy. “you’re so precious, reki” you coo at him. reki only smiles at the opposite wall and shakes his head. when you’re done, you drop your wet clothes in his laundry and walk over to him. “i’m decent!”

reki looks back at you and his heart twists at the sight of you, clad in his work shirt, hanging just above your knees and slightly hugging your waist. he prays he isn’t blushing and gulps.

“i have sweatpants if you want some, sweetheart”, he reminds you weakly, trying to stop staring.

you blink at him, lost and then you gasp. “oh, sorry! I didn’t meant to make you uncomfortable!” you rush. “i’ll put some pants on—”

“no!” he practically shouts, before squeezing his lips shut. you both hold your breaths when you hear his little sister in the next room, groan and shift in her sleep. waiting, until he’s sure it’s safe, he continues much quietly. “i’m not uncomfortable. you look really good, i love you like this. i just want you to feel comfortable”

adoration surges in your chest as you watch your boyfriend clumsily and earnestly explain himself, a blush adorned on his face. “i feel the most comfortable when i’m with you” you admit with a shy smile, your face growing warm.

reki blinks up at you for a second, looking momentarily stunned before his face morphs into a soft grin. his eyes twinkle as he holds his hands out for you, sure and steady. placing your hands in his calloused ones, you sit down beside on the bed and sit criss crossed.

the both of you sit like that for a while, staring lovingly at one another and taking turn squeezing each other’s hands. finally, you bring reki’s hands up to your lips, littering his knuckles with kisses before giving them a quick squeeze.

“where do you hurt the most?” you question, sliding your hands out of his to open the first aid kit. you skim over his injuries, not even knowing where to start. there’s a line of dried blood and a bruise forming on the right side of his face, must be a small laceration under his headband. you know his back is cut up pretty badly and you hope it’s nothing too deep.

“my whole body is sore, if i’m going to be honest” he replies sheepishly. frowning, you gently tug off his headband to assess the damage. just as you suspected, a small cut right under his hairline. the area is beginning to bruise too. you remember adam repeatedly punching him at one point, as reki had locked his arms around him... maybe reki should go to a hospital?

“I promise you i’m fine”, reki assures you, having picked up on the mounting worry on your face. he takes your hand in his, rubbing the roughened pad of his thumb over the back of your hand. “trust me! i’ve had worse. i was jumped and hit with a car all in one day and i didn’t even get a concussion”.

despite reki’s face beaming with pride, you frown deeper and fidget at the thought of reki getting hurt like that. “please don’t remind me...” you sigh, sitting up off the bed to grab a face towel from his closet. “i’m gonna run this under water, okay?”

“alright”, reki answered, watching you step out of his room to make your way to the bathroom. you hurry back, the wet towel dripping water down your forearm, and gently seat yourself on the bed.

you arrange yourself so that you are sitting criss cross in front of reki. “I’m going to clean it, alright?” you say, before leaning into give him a peck.

“okay” he murmurs, placing his hand on your knee. reki squeezes hard when you gently press the wet towel against his wound. you do this repeatedly until you make sure there’s no visible dirt around the wound before placing the towel on reki’s bedside table. you’re quick to patch up his forehead before placing a gentle kiss over the bandage. he snickers through his nose at this, squeezing your knee once more.

“now for your back...” you purse your lips. “take your shirt off.”

you’ve seen reki shirtless a thousand times before and he knows this. still, he can’t help but squirm under your gaze as he works at removing the layers of clothing he’s wearing. he takes his jacket off fine but he struggles a bit with his hoodie, still damp from the rain, wincing as he tugs upward on the fabric.

“here, lemme help you”, you murmur, sitting forward on your knees to tug his hoodie upwards and over his head. you work at the white t-shirt he had on under his hoodie next. gently as you could, you peeled the shirt off reki’s torso trying not to disturb his wounds. but he still flinches, sucking a quick breath in. “sorry! i’m sorry!”

“no, no! you’re fine, it just stung a little” reki promises you, giving your thigh a squeeze. you tug the t-shirt over his head, grimacing. his torso is littered with bruises and a few scrapes, but nothing too worrisome.

“okay, lemme see your back”, you tell him, bracing yourself as you crawl around him get a full glimpse. just as you thought, his back is scraped up and still bleeding lightly—nothing too deep. you grab the wet towel on his bedside table and hop off the bed to go run it under the bathroom facet.

when you return, reki is sitting on his bed exactly like you left, watching you tip toe over to him. “do you wanna take off your pants?” you ask, folding the wet towel. “maybe change into something dry?”

“um, yeah actually...” reki mutters, fumbling with his belt. “c-could you grab me some sweatpants? please?”

with the wet towel in one hand, you grab a pair of gray sweatpants from reki’s closet with your other hand. you can hear reki shuffling out of his pants as you walk over to the bed, with your face turned away.

you hold the sweatpants out for him, your face turned to the side. “you don’t have to look away if you don’t want to”, reki tells you and you can hear the smile in his voice. he takes the sweatpants from your hands.

“you gave me privacy, so i’m returning to the favor—give me your wet clothes, i’ll put them in the hamper”

you trade off the wet towel for reki’s clothes, wheeling around to place them in his hamper. when you turn back, reki is sitting with his legs hanging over the edge of the bed, wearing just his sweatpants and holding the wet towel in one hand.

“whenever you’re ready, nurse y/n”, he smiles at you, showing his teeth. you squint your eyes at him playfully and shuffle over to his bed. accepting the wet towel from reki, you crawl behind him so that you have full access to his back.

“okay, i’m going to clean your wounds, let me know if i’m hurting you”, you warn him, folding your legs underneath you. he grunts in response. taking a breath to steel yourself, you gently press the towel against the abrasions. suddenly, reki gasps loudly. you squeak and pull back almost immediately, your heart in your throat. “what?”

reki’s back is shaking and to your relief (and horror), you realize reki is laughing. he turns his head around to catch a glimpse at your expression and laughs so hard, he snorts and it almost makes you laugh—almost.

“i’m sorry, i couldn’t help it”, he gasps between laughs.

you suck your teeth. “well, now that it’s out of your system, can you hold still? i seriously don’t want to hurt you” you reposition yourself, heart still hammering in your chest.

“sorry, angel, go ahead”, he stifles a giggle, holding still. hesitantly, you press the wet towel to abrasions on his back.

“that okay?” you question and he nods. taking another breath, you dab his entire span of his back with the towel, stopping every now and then to check in on him. once you’ve cleaned his wounds up, you dig around in the first aid kit for some gauze sponges to pat his back dry. “i’m gonna wrap you up for tonight but you should let it dry tomorrow, okay?”

“you got it, nurse” reki chimes back and you bite back a smile, reaching for the gauze dressing in the first aid kit. once you’ve placed the dressing over the worst of his wounds, you grab the gauze roll and begin to wrap it around reki’s torso.

at one point, your fingers brush up against his side and his breath slightly hitches. you freeze, giving him a concerned hum.

“i’m ticklish” he whispers sheepishly and you smirk, continuing to wrap the gauze around his torso.

“storing this information for later, thank you!” you tease causing reki groans. “i didn’t wrap it too tight, did i? can you breathe?”

“i can breathe fine, don’t worry” reki sighs, as you loosely tie the gauze. “you did great, thank you”

once you’re done tying the gauze, you place your hands on top of reki’s shoulders. “good?” you ask.

“good”, reki nods. you take in reki’s bandaged back, his slightly toned shoulders, his red hair pressed against nape of his neck, even the back of his head. he look’s so good with his hair down.

before you even know what you’re doing, you gently press your lips against the nape of his neck. reki freezes, his shoulder tensing before you press another kiss along the back of his neck. he shivers and his whole body melts. you kiss again, this time further up the nape of his neck and into his hair and he lets his head hang forward, sighing slightly. another kiss is placed where his neck meets his shoulder, and he has to bite back a whimper.

“i’m so proud of you”, you whisper into the back of his neck. he reaches around to squeeze your hand. “you did so great tonight—you’re always so great, you never fail to amaze me.”

upon hearing your words, reki feels a lump form in his throat. you always told him that, how proud you were of him for doing things he thought were exceedingly mundane. he remembers that night he was panicking in your bathroom, shaking on his legs like a newborn deer and barely managing to control his breathing. how even then, you were proud of him, for what exactly? he couldn’t answer.

but now, when you tell him that with your lips soft against his nape, in the darkness of his room, he believes you. he’s banged up and unbelievably sore, but he believes you. and further more, he’s feeling proud of himself too, for not disappointing himself, for doing what he had come to do at that beef.

reki shifts around, so that he’s facing you to see that you're smiling at him in a way that he could only describe as pure adoration.

“and...” you start, pushing his bangs back from his forehead. “you looked so fucking hot”.

reki eyes widened slightly before he blows air out of his mouth and rolls his eyes. you grab his face, forcing him to look at you.

“no, no! but you actually looked really good?” you giggled, squeezing his cheeks between your hands. “like, when you nailed that landing off that cliff? and when you dodged him like that? like, i knew you could move, but you were really moving, you know—?”

“y/n—”reki starts, grinning pretty hard as he tries to advert his gaze from yours.

“and you were smiling so hard, like you were actually glowing—beaming! i don’t know, something about the way you looked under those lights they have at S...i actually wanted to bark, like wow—”

“y/n, shut up!” reki is giggling now, flushed right down to his chest. he tries to wrestle your hands from off his face, but you kept your grip.

“don’t act all shy now, mister! you knew exactly what you were doing! when you were like ‘and you’d better remember it’, i was this close to dropping to my knees—”

“y/n—”

“and every one was screaming your name and i was just like ‘yea, that’s my boyfriend! my man! my prince—!’”

suddenly, reki flips you over pinning you arms right beside your head, the both of you giggling.

“oh my god, why are you still going” reki half groans between giggles as you continue to cackle.

“my sweetheart, my baby, my sweat pea, my darling, the future of father of my children, my honey bunch, my sugar pie, the apple of my eye, the light of my life—” you list off, delirious with laughter, not even fighting against reki’s grip on your forearms. he hovers over you, laughing too, his eyes shining and his face beaming

“you need to stop” reki shakes his head slightly, his bangs falling onto your forehead as he leans in for a kiss. he pulls back and you're silent for a moment...until you start rattling off corny pet names again, but this time less giggly.

“my sun, my moon, my stars, my whole world—” you murmur before reki presses his lips against yours. he pulls away and kisses the tip of your nose, the skin slightly under your right eye, and onto your left eyelid.

“you’re so annoying”, reki whispers, letting go of your forearms to hold your face instead.

“you kinda are too”, you whisper back, placing your hands over his, rubbing your thumbs along the back of his hand.

“mmm, i guess we’re destined for one another then” he murmurs and you nod, fervently. reki kisses you sweetly and you hum against his lips. “i love you so much”.

“i love you too, baby” you sigh, putty in reki’s hands. he looks so pretty above you, the lamplight reflecting his eyes and his cheeks still flushed. he looks like the human embodiment of honey.

you turn your head over to glimpse at the alarm clock on his bed side table. 3:37 AM

“our sleeping schedules are so messed up” you groan turning your head back to look up at reki. he blinks, following your gaze towards the alarm clock.

“oh, i usually sleep around his time anyway” he shrugs.

“okay, but you have injuries...so you need to rest to heal” you reason while sitting up slightly, forcing reki to sit up with you. “are you still in pain? i can get you a tylenol”

“i’ll need one in the morning, but i’m fine for now”, he assures you with a grin.

you both climb under his blankets, but he wants for you to sit back against his pillows. already knowing, you hold your arms out for him and he lays between your legs, wrapping his arms around your torso. reki presses his ear to chest, taking in the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, as you smooth his hair back.

“goodnight, sweetheart” you whisper, leaving your hand in his hair.

“goodnight, baby” he murmurs into you chest, pressing a kiss there. “i love you, i can’t wait to wake up and see you tomorrow”

you chuckle tiredly. “i love you too, i’ll see you in the morning”.

notes: this was also, long as hell. i apologize! this is honestly the sappiest sh*t i’ve ever written, idk if it can get any sappier than this (it probably can, and will >:3) .

#sk8 the infinty #reki #reki kyan #reki x reader #sk8 the infinity x reader #reki x y/n #sk8 the infinity x y/n #reki kyan x reader

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themonotonysyndrome · 3 years

Text

REDACTED verse - When Lovely meets Angel

Summary: When the boyfriends are away, their partners try their best to be functioning members of society. Spoiler alert: they failed.

Tw: [Mentions of Adam], [Profanity] and [Very, very brief mention of drugs. Like, half a sentence]

I shared this oneshot in the Discord server and I thought to share it here too before uploading it on AO3 later this weekend.

You smile as your eyes do their best to track Vincent’s every move. Your head spins as your boyfriend flits from one room to another, never pausing for even a second. His duffel bag is lying beside you on the couch, gradually full of clothes, toiletries and other travelling necessities as he chucks them in Mach speed.

You pick up the clothes that didn’t make it into the bag. You fold them nicely before placing them in with the rest.

“Alright, I’ve stocked up the pantry to last at least for a few weeks, b-but I’ll be back by Sunday so don’t worry.” The blur that was Vincent said as he ran from their shared bedroom to the kitchen. With a fond shake of your head, you observe the Vampire made one last round.

Letting Vincent fuss is your way of helping him calm down. And sure enough, it only takes a few minutes until your boyfriend is satisfied with the apartment - from the wards that he erected to the well-stocked kitchen and rows of laundry detergents. With the way he prepared for his departure, you couldn’t help but want to remind Vincent that he’ll only be leaving for three days; not three months.

“Do you have Alexis’ number, Lovely? Sam’s?” Vincent asks - again - in concern as he pad towards you and the duffel bag. “Hang on, I’ll forward them to you now -”

You grab his hand before he could reach for his phone and force him to sit beside you on the couch. You peck him on the cheek to startle him. No matter how many times you’ve done this; Vincent always reacts the same. Startled with a tinge of red dusting his pale cheeks. A simple kiss is enough to leave him speechless and it never fails to make your heart skip a beat at how precious he is.

“Yes, you gave them to me this morning. I have their numbers on speed dial for any emergency of the Adam kind.” You easily assure him, only to backtrack quickly when you see how wide his eyes went. Oh yikes, bad move! Bad move! “N-Not that there will be any problem! Haha! I mean, you’re only going away with Will for three days, right? I can hold the fort, don’t worry!”

Vincent bit his lower lip, still hesitant. “I wish I didn’t have to go, Lovely. It hurts to be away from you…” His head tilts down and holds your hand tight, yet always mindful of his Supernatural strength. “Sometimes… sometimes I could still see you in Adam’s arms, so pale and sick… your blood on his mouth - ”

“Hey, hey, Vince? Look at me please.” You gently tilt his chin using your hand that wasn’t captured by your worrisome boyfriend. You made sure to properly look him in the eyes before smiling softly. “You got me in time and for that? I’m forever grateful, but that’s in the past, OK? I’m here now with you! We both have been making good progress at D.A.M.N so that has to count for something, yeah? We’re both stronger than we were before.”

That earns a tiny smile from Vincent and you mentally cheer in victory. “You always know what to say, huh, Lovely? And yeah, we’re pretty badass now, huh? A Vampire and an Electro Energetic? We’ll conquer this city in less than a month.” He joked.

You try to picture it: you and Vincent - the King and Queen of Dahlia. The first thing you would do is declare PJ Friday - where everyone must wear PJs every Friday and those that wear the silliest PJs get brownie points. Collect enough of them and they’ll get a free meal in the most expensive restaurant Dahlia has to offer. Vincent can handle the boring stuff like, governing and health care.

...Now that’s a thought; Vincent as a politician.

Ah wait - Will would probably be disappointed in them if they tried to do a hostile takeover of this city and you couldn’t bear to disappoint him. After all, no one can pull off the perfect sad dad look other than Vincent’s Sire. Not even your own dad!

“ - Lovely? Uh, Earth to Lovely? You there?”

Vincent’s warm voice broke you off from your mad train of thoughts. You flash a sheepish grin when he realised that you haven’t paid a single word he said. Vincent wants to appear annoyed but his lips are twitching, as if he’s holding back from laughing at the dumbfounded expression on your face.

“Sorry, babe. I spaced out because Will was disappointed in us.”

“...What? Will? Lovely, what the - ”

“Anyway, don’t worry about me.” You quickly interject before you have to explain yourself. “You got me food, Alexis’ and Sam’s numbers are on my speed dial and my powers have been growing nicely over the last few classes. I got this; you got this.” To seal the deal you added, “And I promise to call you twice a day; in the morning and before I go to bed. Sounds good?”

That finally assured Vincent. The tension melts away from his taunt shoulders and when he kisses you, it’s slow and sweet. You would’ve loved to wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him on top of you and turn this into something more, but Will would surely call him if Vincent is late.

Vincent moans when you pull away; disappointed and slightly frustrated. “Easy there, Vince. I’ll make sure to give you a very warm welcome when you get back.” You purr, loving how his eyes lid at your promise.

But alas, as much as you love to drag Vincent to the bedroom, work comes first. So you allow Vincent to fuss around a little more before he slings the duffel bag over one shoulder, kisses you goodbye and leaves.

Now, you planned this. You have a whole itinerary in your head for the days that Vincent is on a business trip with the King of the Solaire Clan. Assignments that need to be done, Despacito to learn on the piano (neither of them knew why Alexis dropped off an upright piano in their apartment on a random ass Wednesday night and when asked, she just cackled before pulling off a Batman and vanished into the night. So Vincent gave up trying to pester the answer out of her. You still think it’s some sort of an elaborate prank), boba pizza to cook for dinner tomorrow and a list of video games to pre-order so really, you would be so busy for the upcoming days that you wouldn’t even have the time to miss Vincent.

If you repeat that long enough, you hope that’ll become true.

Glancing at the clock hanging on the living room wall, you sigh at the time.10.30 PM. A little early to get ready for bed but hey, it’s not like there’s anything else that you want to do now.

With little fanfare, you make sure that the apartment is locked and secure, switch off the lights before heading to the bedroom for your nightly ablutions.

Ok, that part about the itinerary? Yeah, that’s completely out of the window the moment you wake up missing Vincent’s arms around you.

The gentle and warm sun rays pierce through the sheer curtains, promising a bright day ahead of you, but all you could think about is the space in this bedroom. Was the bed always this big? Was the bedroom always this quiet? Those questions rattled in your brain and it really doesn’t help that you can smell Vincent’s faint cologne lingered on the pillows. Soothing vanilla that never fails to clear your mind as opposed to sandalwood and bergamot. Vincent once claimed that the scent is too fancy for someone like him.

Right now though? His cologne sends a pang of longing in your heart in his absence, and it’s only the first day!

“I can’t stay here.” You decided out loud when the tangle of sleepiness ebbed away. Kicking the thick duvet off your body, you stomp to the bathroom to shower, dress up and quickly leave the apartment with nothing but your phone and backpack.

You didn’t want to return to an empty apartment, so what better than walking around the city to distract yourself? Grab some breakfast at a new cafe, maybe do some window shopping afterwards… yeah, that sounds way better than anything you’ve planned before.

Joggers pass you by as you walk through the park and the city slowly comes back to life. People are out and about, going through their monotonous day. Some are catching the bus, others are like her, eager to find something to eat.

You recall that your classmate mentioned that they and someone named Damien found a Taiwanese bakery/cafe that recently opened up near the city’s library; a quaint little shop, squeezed between a hardware shop and a health & beauty care chain store. You can still remember how their eyes lit up as they excitedly described the brioche and the strawberry tiramisu they ate with vivid details.

So that’s where you’re headed off to now.

Apparently, the bakery is closer than you thought when you cut corners and jump through the shortcuts. Being born and raised here in Dahlia like so many others, you knew this city like the back of your hand. Though the existence of Shifters, Vampires, Daemons and more were a slap in the face to you.

Oh, that reminds you, be sure to ask Vincent if the Vampires have anything similar to Fangtasia here in this city.

The bell above the door chimes when you enter the bakery. The sign outside says ‘OPEN’ but since it’s still quite early in the morning, you and a couple sitting at a table near the corner are the only customers currently. Manning behind the cashier is a young woman and her co-worker setting up freshly baked goods behind the display glass.

You made a beeline to the counter.

“Good morning. Uh, can I please have one sea salt coffee - regular size - one red bean mooncake and, umm…” You paused to scan the menu laid before you. “And a marble taro.”

There. That's sort of a healthy breakfast, right?

The young woman hardly bats an eye at your order. She drawl out the total amount of your food and drink to which you hand her some cash before choosing a table beside the large window so you could see the city and her people go about their lives. The scent of freshly baked pastries, hot chocolates and brewed coffees wash over you pleasantly.

You couldn’t help but wonder if Vincent would love this place as much as you do…

The cashier came over with a tray of your order before your musing could spiral down further. You thank her, snap a picture of your food and coffee for Vincent before enjoying your breakfast. It’s a perfect morning, well, almost a perfect morning…

Halfway through your coffee, your phone vibrates. Vincent had texted back:

‘Looks delish, Lovely! Make sure to finish your meal, OK? My flight was a nightmare - I’ll spare you the details - but Will and I reached the airport safely. I’ll call you soon, Lovely. I love you, always.’

Vincent’s text helps to fill his absence, somewhat. You polish off the last bit of your coffee and exhale loudly; there’s no use moping around. Adventure awaits! After all, there’s never a dull day here in Dahlia. For all you know, something is right around the corner just for you!

Tummy warm and full, you bask in the morning light for a few more minutes before exiting the bakery.

...And promptly collide with a walking furnace. Because seriously, the moment your chest hits them, it feels as if their body heat lunges at you.

“Ow!” You fell and landed hard on your ass. Whoever had the misfortune to collide against you, they were a tad taller and seemed to be in a rush to be able to hit you with an impact.

“Oh fuck! I’m so so sorry! Are you alright!? I ran too fast because I always missed out on their marble taros! Oh gosh, oh gosh; can you hear me? Shit, I really hope I didn’t hurt you too badly…” The stranger rambled worriedly.

“I-I’m fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.” You assured them and gladly grabbed the offered hand. They gently pull you up from the pavement.

“You sure? I can take you to the hospital right now if you want!” They pressed on, eyes checking for any sign of injuries on your body. “Just after I buy my pastries though.”

You didn’t expect the blatant honesty; the idea that some loaves of bread are this person's top priorities crack you up. You couldn’t help it, so you burst out a giggle.

“I’m good, I’m good; don’t worry.” You hiccup and wipe a stray tear from the corner of your right eye. You can’t believe this. “Go get your bread and oh, for the record? I totally get why you rush here. Their marble taro is really something else. You better hurry up; I heard the cashier said they’ll be making the last batch for the day.”

You smirk when the walking furnace’s eyes widen in horror. They darted into the bakery without a single word. The bell chimes loudly when they rush to yank the door and scramble towards the counter.

Just for the fuck of it, you lean against the window and decide to wait. Snippets of frantic conversation can be heard inside and it wasn’t long before the bell tinkle once more.

The stranger that bumped into you pout, clutching a huge paper bag of pastries close to their chest as if they feared you would snatch it. “You lied.”

“Shocker, I know.” You tease and then you feel your blood froze despite the warm morning. You suddenly recalled where and from whom you heard those words before and quickly stomped the image out of your head.

“Uh, dude? Are you sure you’re alright? You look super pale.” The stranger narrowed their eyes on you. Despite the blatant concern on their face and how genuinely friendly and cheerful their voice is, you get the feeling that they’re trying to pull you apart by the seams to see if you would lie or not.

So you opt for the honest option. “I will be.” You assured them. “Just some… bad memories pop up.”

“Huh, well that sucks.” They glance at the bag of pastries for a moment, silent and contemplating. They then thrust it practically in your face before you could do so much as flinch. “You want some? Food always helps me feel good when I’m sad.”

The loaves of bread smelled really good but for the second time, you giggled. “No, no, I’m full. Thank you though; that’s very kind of you to offer.”

“It’s only the right thing to do.” They reply with an easy shrug. You get the feeling that the stranger’s kindness is something remarkable. “The name is -”

Across the street, a truck driver pressed the horn when the car in front of him refused to budge despite the traffic lights having switched from red to green for ten minutes now.

“ - but you can call me Angel; all my friends do. Now that we’ve bumped into one another, your destiny just altered. Our fates will forever be intertwined once you give me your name.”

Oh, you like where this is going.

“I’m - ” The driver in front of the truck kicked open his door and proceeded to shout at the truck driver. A line of cars gradually formed behind the vehicle and horns began to blare as a brawl broke out in the middle of the road. “ - nice to meet you!”

“A lovely name…” Here your new friend - Angel - trailed off, their eyes appraising your body. “For a lovely soul. Lovely. Huh. Can I call you that?”

Gorgeous, brimming with moxie mix with a spoonful of friendly flirting? Oh, you like them more and more by the second.

Also, you idly wondered if there’s some weird magic attached to your name or else this is going to be a pattern every time you introduce yourself.

“Sure.” You answered, and the two of you shook hands.

“Say… who do you think would win? Godzilla or King Kong?”

“Psh, is that even a question? Godzilla, obviously. He’s the king of monsters for a reason! And grandpa got his Atomic Breath; what does Kong even have?”

“You. I like you. I have a feeling that this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

When there’s no escaping from Angel’s octopus arm of love and friendship around your shoulders, you let yourself be swept away.

“So you’re an Electro Energetic?”

“Yup.”

“Got any plans on what you’re going to be in the future?”

“To shed my mortal body and transform into King Ghidorah.”

“...Can I be the left head?”

“I was hoping you’d ask that. We need the right head, though.”

“I’ll give my friend a call; they’re a Freelancer studying at D.A.M.N too. Maybe you’ve seen them around?”

“Wait - you said your boyfriend is a Vampire?”

“He’s more of a dork than a Vampire, but yeah.”

“Cool, cool. Hey, my boyfriend is a Werewolf. Do you know what this means?”

“...Twilight marathon?”

“Twilight marathon! We have to do it. Let’s go, Lovely; you’re going to crash at my place for the best movie night of your life!”

“I’ll grab some food and drinks from my place. Will be there in twenty minutes.”

“This is the third time I’ve watched these movies and I think they just got worse over the years.” You complained, chugging down your fourth can of Red Bull. You don’t drink, so you wondered if this is how it feels like to slowly go drunk. Or high.

You’re in your sleep wear - a simple black shorts and one of Vincent’s t-shirts. Exhausted, stomach bloated with snacks; you feel like shit. Your body is seconds away from saying fuck it and crash down.

And yet you’ve never felt so alive before.

The time on your phone says it's 3.23 AM; you and Angel slough through the first two movies and now finally, the end credits for Eclipse roll down on the TV screen. Angel lives with their boyfriend - who was on a business trip, coincidentally - in a very homely apartment. When you first entered, you could tell just what sort of couple they are.

The place looks as if a small tornado tried to turn the apartment upside down but was fended off just barely - little knick knacks such as rainbow beaded bracelets were carelessly thrown on the kitchen counter behind a microwave, a crop top with printed bongo cats floating within a glittered galaxy is drape over a dining chair, three heart-shaped balloons knock against one another from the living room’s ceiling and for some reason, the USB stereo is on the floor playing Black Pink’s Pretty Savage.

The other half of the apartment - the more organised side - are filled with neatly shelved books of all genres, an untouched bowl of fruits are on the coffee table and most of the expensive-looking dishes and silverwares are displayed behind a glass cabinet. Those were probably gifts from family and friends.

You spend an entire day here, engaging in stupid but fun conversations with Angel, painted each others’ nails and even shop online for the sluttiest outfit that you two could find just for the hell of it before binge-watching the entire Twilight series.

Unlike you, however, Angel is buzzing around like a hyperactive bunny on crackhead energy. Halfway through New Moon, she busted out stacks of colourful sticky notes, some thumbtacks and a huge yarn ball. You watch with utter fascination as they begin to furiously write down every little thing about the Vampires and Werewolves representations from the movies to your and their boyfriend.

It’s 3.25 AM now. The entire living room wall looks like an abstract form of an art piece, made of common stationeries.

Hair in a messy bun, a stick of strawberry pocky dangling from their lips like a lit cigarette, a black sharpie in one hand and dressed in black cat onesie, Angel tapped on the piece of red sticky note that wrote ‘culture appropriation or nah?’

“So what have we learned so far?”

“Vampires don't sparkle.” You immediately piped up and this time, cracked open a can of black coffee. A brand name from Japan, but the bitter tang immediately zolt your already fried nerves to maximum level. You love it. “Period.”

“Noted! Now, does this make Stephenie Meyer racist!?”

You actually had to pause and consider that. “Will need to get you back on that one.”

Angel hurried to scribble ‘remind Lovely for feedback’ inside the same note. “Very well. We shall move on to the Werewolves.” They start to list down the characteristics of the Werewolves portrayed in the movies and then compare them to their boyfriend; but the thing is, they didn’t realise that they verbally list down the quirks of their Shifter lover instead.

You find it cute that Angel rambled on and on about someone named Davey, so you didn’t interrupt them. Hell, you’d be the same with Vincent.

It wasn’t long before the two of you got sidetracked from comparing your lovers to spilling the tea about your relationships.

“After we first slept together, I said to Davey, “Thanks for the sex, bro” complete with a peace sign and a wink. He got so mad that he refused to let me off the bed until I promised to stay.” Angel laughs fondly. They tear open a bag of Cheetos Puffs and throw one into your open mouth. The two of you celebrate with a high-five.

“Vince freaked out when I told him he was my first.” You chewed, swallowed and washed the after taste of the junk food with even more coffee. Who needs sleep when you could reach divinity with cans of Red Bulls, Kirin Fire coffees and junk foods. “He was extra sweet to me the next day as if he was trying to make up for how rough he was. You could totally see how precious he is from Pluto.”

“That’s so cute!” Angel cooed. “You’ve landed the golden D, dude. Congrats.”

“Sounds like you’re the same. To us!”

You clink your can of coffee with Angel’s bottle of Mountain Dew.

Eventually, the night made way to the rising sun and the final scene of Breaking Dawn came to a close. The living room is a total mess - blankets and pillows are strewn all over the floor, empty bags of chips, cans and bottles are underneath the coffee table and you swore that one rolled underneath the couch and the wall is still a sad, modern version of cubism with strings.

“So…” You tilt your head to stare at a wide-eyed Angel, still buzzing with energy. “Want to play Mario Kart? Loser has to let the winner dress them for the day.”

“You’re on! I hope you like crop tops”

Vincent couldn’t stop bouncing his leg. The airport is bustling with people rushing for their early morning flights despite dawn barely peeking from the horizon. Like most of the humans around them, Vincent and Will are waiting for their boarding gate to open.

Speaking of Will, he had wandered off to inquire about their time of arrival to one of the help counters somewhere near the vending machines that they passed.

These past three days felt like three years without Lovely at his side. Vincent was an idiot to think that a few simple phone calls were enough to chase the yearning of his undead heart for his lover. His sweet and strong, Lovely.

How are they right now? Judging from the different time zones, Vincent reckoned that it’s nearly midnight where the city of Dahlia is right now. Is Lovely getting ready for bed? What did they have for dinner? How was their day?

An amused chuckle startled Vincent from his musing. “Oh Vincent, did your phone somehow insult you? You’ve been glaring at it for at least five minutes since I’ve returned.”

“G-Geez! Don’t sneak up on me like that, old man.” Vincent mumbled, he nearly dropped his phone from his Sire’s sudden and silent appearance.

“Apologies. Perhaps you should give them a call?” Will suggested as he took a seat beside him. He offers a warm, knowing smile at Vincent’s confused expression. “You wore a lovelorn expression when you stared at your phone. Do us both a favour and call your Lovely, hmm?”

“...I shouldn’t. They’re probably sleeping - ”

“Maybe. Or maybe not. For all you know, they might still be up, waiting for you to call them.”

Vincent gave in. He desperately needed to hear Lovely's voice. Besides, their sleepy whines are so adorable and he misses them terribly.

Will occupied himself with a John Grisham book while Vincent pressed familiar numbers and held his phone up to his ear. Lovely answered in less than a minute.

“Hey, Lovely.” Vincent greets, feeling the uneasiness and longing untangled themselves from his chest. He can’t wait to return home and have them in his arms again. The next time he has to go on a business trip again, he’ll bring Lovely along. If Will has a problem with it, he could take Alexis. “Sorry for calling you again so late at night. I… I just need to hear your voice again. Anyway, are you on the bed - ”

“Oh my god, did you just throw your underwear at me!?”

“Uh, Lovely?”

Vincent immediately pull the phone away when his ear is assaulted by a cacophony of K-pop music blaring in the background, accompanied by an obnoxious laugh of glee and Lovely’s mutterings of “That slut is going to get it now”, “300% sugar in your boba tea? Dude, just do cocaine instead!” and “Oh, Dilf alert! He has a French accent too? A solid 8/10 from me, definitely.”

Beside him, Will snorts. He happily ignores the glare Vincent threw at him and flips a page.

But for a brief, crazy moment, Vincent was struck with fear at the thought of his lover harbouring a secret crush on his Sire. He still remembers how freely Lovely blush and giggle whenever Will was around.

“Lovely? Is everything alright?” Vincent tries again, straining to hear through the music and someone’s chattering. Who is with his Lovely past midnight? He starts to worry and feel… a little uncomfortable.

“Vincent? What’s up, baby? You don’t usually call me so late.” Lovely reply, sounding a bit distracted. Suddenly, Vincent heard a crash, followed by a, “It’s not broken! It’s all good!”

“Where are you? What’s going on? Are you at a party?” Vincent didn’t demand, he inquired as firmly as possible. Flashes of his Lovely dancing at a club or hanging out with some faceless man and woman keep popping in his mind. It stirs his bloodlust.

Will idly pat his hand to calm Vincent down, eyes still glued to his book.

“I’m at home; had a friend over for the night. The apartment is just… too quiet without you.”

Lovely’s easy and genuine admittance settled something feral inside of Vincent. He guessed that his lover and their friend must be having a sleepover.

“I’m sorry that I had to leave, Lovely.” Vincent murmurs. “Will and I are at the airport right now. We should be boarding in thirty minutes.” Here, he paused and continued in a quieter tone, “I’ve missed you so much, Lovely. I’ve left my heart with you and… well, it’s just not the same without you.”

“See!? Prime example of a golden D there, Lovely!” Someone - Vincent assumed is his lover’s friend - shriek in the background.

Their sudden shriek didn’t surprise him. What did, however, was another, stranger’s voice joining in their conversation.

From a couple of seats, right in front of Vincent. Right here in the airport.

“Don’t shriek into the phone, Angel! Are you trying to make me go deaf in one ear!?”

The man - no, Shifter, grumbled. Vincent could smell the scent of lush forest and dirt around him; a Werewolf, then. But his nature wasn’t the reason why Vincent’s jaw is hanging open.

Will, who had given up the pretence of reading his book, couldn’t hold himself back from grinning widely. He already connected the dots, unlike Vincent. “Oh my, isn’t that Alpha Shaw? He must be on a business trip as well! What a small world.”

Luckily Vincent was clutching his phone tightly or not he would’ve dropped it in shock. Alpha Shaw? No way… David Shaw!? The Alpha of the Werewolf’s pack in Dahlia!? What the fuck -

“Turn down the volume, Angel, before the neighbours call the police!” Lovely shouted back.

In front of him, Vincent and Will watch the impressive scowl on David Shaw’s - the Werewolf King of Dahlia, himself - face. “Uh, excuse me? The fuck? It’s way past midnight, Angel. Where are you; who are you with?”

“Looks like your lover made a new friend.” Will said in mock-whisper. Even though both of them knew full well that the Shifter wouldn’t be able to hear them from where they are in his human form. “I have a feeling that the Shaw pack and the Solaire clan will be closely in touch in the coming days.”

Vincent shakes his head; truly, his Lovely is something else. Without hesitation, the Vampire Prince got up to introduce himself to the annoyed Werewolf. He didn’t take it personally when the Shifter shot him a glare for interrupting his phone call. If looks could kill, well, let’s just say that Vincent is thankful that being a Vampire means that he’s not about to be a Werewolf’s chew toy anytime soon.

“Hi. I’m Vincent Solaire - yes, you heard that right - and before you ask, I’m pretty sure our lovers are currently hanging out at my place right now.”

That got the Alpha to do a wonderful imitation of a statue. He wouldn’t look out of place at the Louvre, Vincent thought.

David exhales loudly - as if he damn close to being done with everything that this world has to offer - before addressing his lover on the other side of the phone. “The things you got yourself into, you damn troublemaker.” No doubt that David probably isn’t too keen to know that his mate is friends with a Vampire’s lover, but Will has a knack for turning enemies to allies; he’ll let his Sire deal with the politics once they get back to Dahlia.

“You love me!” Angel smugly replied. “Oh and guess what? We binge watched the entire Twilight movie series and we got some questions!”

“And uh, just a heads up.” Lovely’s voice hesitantly chimes through Vincent’s phone. “We haven’t slept since you guys left. I mean, I slept the day you left Vince, but, uh...”

Vincent winces and politely ignores David’s flow of cursing under his breath.

They left home for only three days, surely their apartments are still standing and their lovers aren’t drunk, high or planning to commit anarchy!

...Right?

#redacted asmr #fanfic #second pov #they/them pronouns #gender neutral s/o #lovely (listener)#angel (listener)#vincent solaire #will solaire #david shaw

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australiancarisi · 3 years

Note

12 with olivia benson please!

Words: 2550 Remember when I said these were gonna be drabbles… also Nick, Rafael, Mike & Kat are in this because I love them all thx for coming to my ted talk

‘how is my wife more badass than me?’

You groaned as you rolled over to Liv’s side of the bed to turn the blaring alarm off. It took a lot of effort and tries but you eventually managed to turn it off with a huff. You wrapped the blanket around you, closed your eyes and snuggled into Liv’s pillow. You peeped an eye open when you heard Liv chuckle.

“What” you mumbled

“You are just adorable” Liv smiled from the doorway to your bathroom

“Why are you out of bed?” you whined rolling onto you back

“Because although it is your day off my love, it is not mine” Liv said and headed back into the bathroom to continue getting ready.

“But the alarm only just went off. If I’m going to be woken up early on my day off a mere five hours after getting home from my shift, I should get cuddles” you demanded. “I’m not joking” you said as Liv laughed at you. You sat up slightly when you noticed your bedroom door slowly open “here’s my cuddles”

“y/n” Noah ran up and jumped onto the bed and got straight into your arms

“Hello sweet boy, how do you have so much energy at 6 in the morning” you grinned smothering his face with kisses. Noah’s laugh had to up there as one of your favourite sounds, so pure, so innocent. Liv leant against the door frame and watched the two of you together. She had been so nervous when the two of you had started dating about how Noah would take to you, but from the moment he met you, he was glued to your side and you were wrapped around his little finger. Even now, two years into your marriage and nothing had changed.

“See this could have been all yours but now Noah gets all the cuddles” you squeezed him a little tighter making him giggle.

“Alright you two” Liv playfully rolled eyes “Come on Noah let’s get you ready for school before Lucy gets here”

“Nooooo”

“Yesssss” Liv teased him

“But I wanna stay with y/n”

“I can get him ready” you said with a yawn

“The only thing you are going to do is go back to sleep” Liv said

“But-“

“No buts. You didn’t get home until 1am you need to sleep my love” Liv pecked your lips and reached out to Noah, who just snuggled into you “Noah” he whined again. Your schedule had been all over the place lately. You had been doing doubles and night shifts for the last few weeks, you had barely seen Liv let alone Noah, it was no wonder he was clinging to you

“Go on sweet boy, I promise I’ll be there to pick you up after school” you kissed his forehead

“Promise?” He asked holding his pinkie up. You wrapped yours around his.

“Pinkie promise. 3 o’clock. I’ll be there” with the promise of seeing you later agreed on Noah left.

“Get some sleep my love” Liv smiled kissing you again before turning off the lights leaving you to catch up some much-needed rest.

When you woke up again it was nearly 11am. You jumped up pottered around the house, cleaning up Noah’s toys, putting away any dishes and things that were lying around and doing some laundry. These were your favourite type of days, where you just chilled at home, cleaned and were able to do things at your own pace.

“To what do I owe the pleasure Captain” you grinned, answering your phone

“Do I need a reason to call my wife?” Liv asked. You could basically hear her rolling her eyes.

“No, but it is out of the ordinary”

“What are you doing?” Liv asked, changing the subject

“Just about to leave actually, going to meet Jas for lunch at the café down the street. Even put on jeans for the occasion” You locked the door as you headed out to meet your friend.

“Wow fancy…” she trailed off and you could hear her talking to Sonny and Amanda

“How busy are you today?” you asked when you heard her lift her phone back to her ear

“You don’t even want to know… that’s why I called I doubt I’ll be home for dinner”

“It’s okay- “

“No, it's not” Liv cut you off with a frustrated sigh “I need to be home more, I need to spend more time with you and Noah and- “

“And you need to work. Because it’s what you love, because you are helping the people that need it. You are a good police officer, the best actually. Noah and I can handle a few late nights. Besides Noah needs something to be mad about when he’s a teenager” you joked. You smiled as you heard Liv chuckle a little. You hated how much pressure put on herself to be perfect at everything.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Liv asked

“Once or twice but I’ll never grow tired of hearing it”

“I love you”

“I love you too, I’ll see you when I’m looking at you, be safe”

“Always”

“You know you have a stupid look on your face” your friend and co-worker Jas said as you met out the front of the café while hanging up the phone

“It’s called love, you should try it sometime” you teased

“No thank you” Jas replied with a laugh. The two of you sat in the busy café and caught up on everything outside of work. Jas told you about one of the many guys she had on the go at the moment, you gushed about Liv and Noah.

“I mean seriously if I could I’d shove my foot where the sun doesn’t shine” Jas huffed bitching about one of your co-workers.

“I should probably go, need to run a couple of errands before I pick up Noah” You looked at your phone double-checking the time, an hour before you had to get Noah. You and Jas went to stand up when all hell broke loose. Everything changed in a split second. One moment you were sitting there with your friend having an amazing day and the next you were hiding under a table as a man held the café at gunpoint.

“NOBODY MOVE” he screamed turning in a circle with his gun pointed and ready to shoot. “NO ONE MOVES NO ONE CALLS THE COPS” You slowly and quietly got your phone out.

“What are you doing?” Jas whispered, her voice shaking in fear “did you not just hear him?”

“There’s no way I’m not texting Liv” you huffed

Liv sighed as she waited for the coffee machine to brew a new jug. Her eyes felt like they were going to fall out after all the paperwork she had been doing all day. All her detectives had been out either talking to victims or following leads so all she had done today was sit at her desk and do paperwork and reply to emails. Picking up her cup, Liv headed back out to the squad room as she heard everyone return. As Amanda was filling everyone in on the lead that she and Sonny had been following when everyone’s phone buzzed, and officers began moving.

“Café being held at gunpoint” Fin frowned

“Unknown gunman, unknown reason” Kat read from her phone

“I wonder which one” Sonny thought aloud

“Café 98” Liv almost threw her coffee on the nearest desk running into her office to grab her gun and badge.

“How do you know?” Fin asked

“Y/n is there”

Half an hour had passed, you could now hear the sirens of police officers in the distance, Liv responded and told you she was on the way and it was going to be okay. It was only words, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel better. The gunman was shouting at the café workers, blaming them for everyone being taken hostage because they didn’t give him money. You took deep breaths and tried to stay calm. The café phone rang, then again and again.

“Someone shut that fucking phone up!” the man yelled

“It’s going to keep ringing” your mouth said before your mind could stop you

“What was that bitch?” He started moving towards you. You slowly stood up, hands in the air.

“The p-phone. It’s the police. They want to talk, and they are going to keep calling until you answer” you stuttered, your confidence slowly falling.

“How would you know?” He sneered “you a cop?”

“No!” you quickly exclaimed “uh no I’m not but I am married to one. My wife is the captain at the 16th” you pulled your phone out of your pocket to show him your lock screen. It was a picture of you and Liv – her in her uniform - when she promoted to captain.

“You answer it then” he motioned with the gun towards the phone. You slowly walked over to the counter, focused on the man and the gun and picked up the phone.

“Hello” you said

“Hello, this is Captain Mike Dodds who is this?” you breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar voice.

Olivia jumped out of the car at the scene, almost before Fin had actually stopped the car. It was chaos. Uniforms were holding back the public as well as journalists. There were lights flashing and being screaming. Olivia could hear people asking if it was a terrorist attack but right now, she didn’t care about motive, all she wanted was to get you out of there. Flashing her badge, she and the rest of the squad were let through and they headed towards ground zero.

“Who’s in charge?” Liv asked a nearby uni who pointed her in the direction. She had a small smile when she saw Mike and Nick hunched over a table. “Captain Dodds, Sargant Amaro”

“Liv” the pair frowned “what are you guys doing here? This is major crimes’ not svu”

“y/n is in there” Fin said

“So what do you know?” Liv asked

“Not a lot. No contact has been made yet. We’re about to try again” Nick said as Mike lifted the phone to his ear.

“Hello, this is Captain Mike Dodds who is this?” Mike asked, his eyes met Liv and he quickly put the phone onto speaker. “y/n is anyone hurt?

“No, no one is hurt. There’s probably about 30 of us in here” hearing your voice was music to Liv’s ears. Mike asked you a few more questions, not that you were able to give him much more information.

“Mike, I need you to tell Liv someone has to get Noah, I was supposed to pick him up from school and he’s going to be so upset if I’m not there” Liv turned to her squad, she hadn’t even thought of Noah.

“I’m on it” Sonny nodded pulling his phone out and moving away from everyone.

The fact that Mike was the person on the other end of the line made you a little less anxious. You tried to give him as much info as possible, but the gunman was not giving you anything, he wouldn’t even tell them what he wanted.

“Mike, I need you to tell Liv someone has to get Noah, I was supposed to pick him up from school and he’s going to be so upset if I’m not there and-“

“Alright that’s enough” the gunman grabbed the phone out of your hand and hung up. You quickly moved back to your spot under the table. The gunman was growing anxious, pacing around the room, it was clear he didn’t have a plan.

“There’s a back door” Jas whispered “a few of us could get out”

“I’ll distract him”

“I think Liv would kill me if I left you in here” Jas huffed

“If you get out the police can get it, she’ll live with it” you slowly stood back up “you should really stay away from the windows”

“What?” the man spat at you

“The police, they’ll be looking for a spot for a sniper to take you out” you walked towards him, moving around so he kept his eyes on you. Jas and a couple others started to creep towards the door. You were racking your brain trying to remember everything Liv had ever told you about hostage situations.

“Shouldn’t you stay away from the windows to then?”

“My wife’s a cop. You don’t think she’s out there?” you chuckled “And the guy on the phone before? He was her number 2 not too long ago, he got promoted not too long before my wife, he goes to my son’s dance recitals, he’s not gonna let anything happen to me. I doubt there is an officer that doesn’t know what I look like. They aren’t going to shoot me, but they will shoot you” your eyes swept the room quickly, Jas was out.

“Then maybe I should just shoot you” he held the gun to your face. You held your breath and closed your eyes. You thought of Liv and Noah and how much you loved them. Suddenly the back door opened and your eyes shot open.

“NYPD!” the gunman’s attention turned to the police officers, then, without thinking you grabbed the gun and his arm, flipping him to the ground. You quickly ripped the gun from his hand and took it apart.

“Seems you learnt some tricks over the years” Mike grinned coming up to you as one of the other officers handcuffed the man. You wrapped your arms around him and relaxed, you were okay, everyone was okay.

“She’s out there right?” you needed your wife right now

“did you expect her to be anywhere else?” Nick smirked joining you and Mike. He wrapped his arm around you too “took almost everyone to keep her from busting through the door herself” you grinned at that. Classic Liv. Mike and Nick lead you out the front door of the café. The moment you stepped out you found Liv. She was standing with Jas and the rest of the squad. Her eyes locked with yours and you thought you were going to start crying. The two of you ran to each other, throwing your arms around the other.

“Oh my love” Liv squeezed you “are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay” you whisper into her neck

“She’s more than okay” Mike said, you pulled back from Liv’s arms. The rest of the squad joined you. “not only did she distract him to get those guys out, when we came in she grabbed his gun and disarmed him”

“Nice” Kat grinned, clearly impressed

“How is my wife more badass than me?” Liv grinned and kissed your forehead

“Learnt from the best” you responded “Noah…”

“All covered, Raf’s got him” Sonny said “He’s no y/n but I’m sure Noah was just as excited to see Uncle Rafa”

“Probably more” you laughed, you grabbed Liv’s hand and squeezed “Let’s go see our son”

“Anything you want my love” Liv kissed your lips “I’m so proud of you”

#law and order svu #law and order svu imagines #law and order fanfic #Olivia Benson #olivia benson x reader #olivia benson imagine #olivia benson fanfic

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chrwrites · 3 years

Text

On Wednesdays We Wear Pink

This was written for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers 250 Follower Celebration, I picked prompt #25 from 50 Wordless ways to say "I love you": Wearing clothes in their favorite color.

warnings: Implied sexual content and fade to black

read on ao3

If there was something Luka Couffaine hated doing, that was doing the laundry.

Hanging the clothes out to dry wasn’t much of a problem, just like ironing or putting them away didn't bother him. But sorting through the clothes and separating them according to different fabrics and their colours? That was something he couldn’t do.

No matter how hard he tried, or how many times the amazing fashion designer he was dating showed him how to wash clothes the correct way and was patient enough to repeat herself countless times, Luka would always manage to mess something up.

Why couldn’t he just put all the clothes in the washing machine with some detergent and softener and just start it like he had always done before he started living with Marinette, anyway? The clothes came out fine.

Except, Marinette didn't think the same when he accidentally got her favorite sweater to shrink three sizes, and she officially discharged him from doing this annoying chore after she came home to find Luka struggling with yarn and knitting needles, trying to follow some online tutorial that would help him make her a new sweater to replace the one he damaged.

But now that Marinette would be away for a month, Luka didn't have the heart to let the clothes pile up and give her more work to do when she came back. He had to take care of it.

He sighed as he resentfully loaded the washing machine, only looking at his white clothes to make sure he didn't pick anything that would get them stained. He was almost finished when his hand landed on a small red garment that was definitely not his and distracted him from his task, the memories of the wonderful night spent after taking that small piece of clothing off his girlfriend flooding his mind.

God, he missed her.

His thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing in the other room, and he scrambled to put the rest of the clothes inside the washing machine before he went to answer.

Marinette's cheerful voice greeted him, and Luka couldn't control the smile forming on his lips as soon as he heard her, “Hello, love. How's Milan treating you?”

He listened as she rambled about her day and told him about the challenges she had to face while working in another city, but the happiness and excitement in her voice made him smile along with her. He went back to the bathroom to set the washing machine in what he hoped was the right way, and started it.

“But enough talking about me,” Marinette said from the other side of the phone, ”I want to know what you've been up to.”

“Well,” Luka sighed, “Nothing much. Still working on the album. I've been trying to write, playing… Missing my muse...”

Marinette’s soft giggle rang in his ears, making his heart stutter the same way it did when they first met, “Aw, I miss you too,” she said, “I'll be back soon.”

“I know, it’s just not soon enough.”

“It’s only another week,” Marinette reminded, “then I’ll be back and I’ll be all yours.”

“I can’t wait.”

Smiling to himself, Luka set his phone down and grabbed his notebook and guitar. He settled on the couch and let the sudden rush of inspiration flow through his fingers to form a soft gentle melody that could do his love for Marinette justice.

He was so lost in the music that he forgot about the world around him, and when he heard a beep coming from the other room he jumped from the couch. He groaned when he realized that it was the washing machine signaling it was done, leaned his head to the back of the couch and closed his eyes to get his focus on the music back. The laundry could wait a little longer. But the beautiful rush of creativity that had previously caught him didn't seem to want to come back. Luka let out a helpless sigh and set his guitar aside, getting up to reach the source of the sound that disrupted his creative process.

Marinette had gotten so excited the first time she realized that their new washer also made sounds, and Luka still teased her for that sometimes. She would do a happy little dance whenever he heard the machine beeping, and as much as Luka loved to see her excited, he kinda hated that the stupid thing made sounds. What was the point of having a silent washing machine when it beeped when it was done?

So that you don't forget it, dummy.

The voice in his head sounded an awful lot like Marinette's, and it reminded him of his girlfriend getting up whenever that silly sound interrupted what they were doing. One moment, Marinette was resting her head on his shoulder, absently playing with Luka's hands as he hummed a soft melody in her ear; then, as soon as that damned washer beeped, she would abandon him.

“Can't it just wait?” he'd ask, and Marinette would laugh and tell him that they couldn't leave the clothes in the washing machine for long, “Otherwise they'll stink. I know, I know," he'd complain before lazily following her so that they could go back to what they were doing sooner.

“I swear, sometimes it looks like you love doing the laundry more than you love me.”

“You know that’s not true! I love doing you much more,” Marinette teased, making Luka struggle to keep his composure while he helped her hang the clothes, “You’ll be the death of me.”

Well, Marinette was going to kill him for real now.

Much to his horror, the first items he pulled out of the washing machine had turned a soft shade of pink.

“Shit,” Luka muttered under his breath. He pulled out more clothes, only to find that they all suffered from the same fate of the first ones. His t-shirts, his socks, his boxers were all pink.

How could that happen? He had paid attention this time, didn't he?

He sighed, tossing the now pink, old and ragged Jagged Stone t-shirt he didn't have the heart to throw away (much to Marinette’s annoyance) in the basket. At least he didn’t wash any of Marinette’s clothes, so he didn't have to worry about hearing her yell at him from another country for ruining her clothes as well. Maybe this time she would laugh when he’d tell her what happened to his clothes. Either way, there was nothing he could do about it now.

He pulled out the last pieces from the washing machine, sighing when he found what caused his clothes to turn pink. Marinette’s polka dotted slips were of an apparently harmless bright red despite having tinted everything around them. At least it wasn’t totally his fault, he could blame it on his girlfriend’s underwear, couldn't he?

Marinette would have called him stupid and it would have ended there.

He let out a helpless sigh, opting not to try to find a solution for turning half of his wardrobe pink and hanging the clothes to dry instead.

What was some more pink in his life, anyway? His girlfriend was the epitome of pink and pretty, and he loved her for that. Even if he had to convince her not to buy all the pink home appliances she could find for their new apartment. She would complain, and he would kiss her adorable little pouts away before they went on looking for what they needed to make their new apartment feel like home. Two months living together and he still felt a little thrill of excitement whenever he was reminded that he was sharing the roof with the love of his life.

He couldn't really complain about some more pink in his life. He loved it.

Marinette greeted Luka with the warmest smile when she found him waiting for her at the airport. She ran into his arms, Luka’s chuckle ringing in her ear as he caught her and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They shared a long, sweet kiss.

He shivered when Marinette pulled away, his eyes still half lidded as he settled her down. Marinette traced slow patterns on his chest, biting down a teasing smile when she looked up at him, “Is this new? Pink really suits you,” she said, making Luka smile before he leaned for another kiss.

When they got home, his lips left hers only for the amount of time they needed to catch their breath. Luka ignored Marinette's gasp as he let her suitcase fall ungraciously on the floor and led her to the couch. She giggled when she fell on top of him and Luka’s arm wrapped around her.

“I missed you so much,” Marinette whispered, her bluebell eyes locking into his. His free hand reached to thumb her cheekbone, “Me too,” Luka said slowly.

Marinette snuggled close to his chest, her hand absently drawing patterns on his arm while Luka left soft kisses on her head from time to time, his hand brushing through her hair. They stood in comfortable silence, basking in each other's presence after so long of not being able to, sharing soft kisses and quiet laughs.

Luka held her tighter, closing his eyes as he inhaled her sweet scent. Finally, their apartment felt like home again.

It was much later, when Marinette shifted and slipped away from his arms that Luka groaned, suddenly feeling cold. “Don’t go,” he whined, stretching his arms to grab her waist and pull her closer, “I didn't get enough of you.”

Marinette giggled, “When did you ever?” she asked rhetorically.

“Never?” Luka grinned proudly.

Marinette rolled her eyes, playfully slapping the hand resting on her hip.

“I really have to unpack,” she said, struggling to be serious when she saw Luka’s pout, “Stay with me, please?” he asked.

Marinette managed to shim out of his hold and blew him a kiss before disappearing behind the door. Luka let out a lovesick sigh, getting up from the couch to follow her into their bedroom.

“Thought you might need some help,” he said casually as Marinette opened her suitcase and took out her clothes.

“Just say you can’t stay away from me for one second,” Marinette teased.

“Can you blame me?” Luka shrugged, “I have the most amazing girl by my side, and I want to–

Luka interrupted himself mid-sentence, noticing how Marinette's expression shifted into a frown when she opened the closet.

She put her clothes away, only to rummage a bit longer in the closet to pull out two pink t-shirts from Luka's side of the closet.

She suppressed a giggle as she turned to look at his boyfriend, whose expression dropped.

“How come half of your closet has turned pink?” Marinette asked, letting the amused tone in her voice speak for her.

“I…” Luka rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Marinette raised an eyebrow as an invitation for him to confirm her suspicions, and Luka sighed in defeat.

“Fine, I messed up the laundry,” he could feel his cheeks grow warm at the confession, and he braced himself for any reaction from her.

“No way, I thought you got Rose so mad that she decided to colour all your clothes pink,” Marinette giggled, “Not that I'm complaining, you know how much I like pink, and it looks really good on you.”

“Oh really? You're not mad at me for messing up the laundry again?” he asked.

“It depends…” Marinette said, crossing her arms when she got up, “Tell me, Luka, did you ruin any of my clothes?”

Luka gulped, despite knowing he had nothing to worry about, Marinette looked quite menacing when things didn't go her way, “No.”

“Good,” Marinette smiled, satisfied with his answer, and closed the distance between them wrapping her arms around his neck, “I can fix these,” she said, eyeing at the clothes she dropped on the floor, but Luka shook his head.

“You don't have to.”

“What?” Marinette asked, frowning in confusion.

“I wanted to take care of it so you didn’t have too much stuff to do when you came back. I don't want you to add more work to your list because of me,” Luka's thumb grazed her cheek gently. “Besides,” he added, his hands moving to her hips to pull her closer, “I like pink.”

Marinette smirked, “Don’t you think it will ruin your image, rockstar ?”

Luka shook his head, his smile brushing her lips, “Screw image, pink is very rock and roll.”

“That's why I like it so much,” Marinette's soft giggle died in her mouth when he kissed her, and she tilted her head to welcome him fully, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

Her hands made their way down his chest, pulling at the hem of his t-shirt, “As much as I like pink…” she purred, moving her lips to his ear and making Luka shiver, “I think you'd look better with this off...”

Luka didn't find Marinette sleeping in the bed next to him when he woke up. He yawned and stretched, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before he got up and followed the unmistakable clattering of pans coming from the kitchen.

Marinette was standing near the stove, wearing nothing but the pink t-shirt he wore the previous night as she stirred something in a bowl.

He leaned against the door frame, not daring to disturb her and admiring her from his position instead. She was humming while she got the breakfast ready, a habit she picked from him, and Luka felt a familiar warmth spread in his chest. Sometimes he had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, that Marinette was really there by his side and loved him just as much as he loved her. Her sole presence lit up the darkest of corners, and Luka was lucky enough to be able to watch her shine without her light hurting his eyes.

She squeaked when his hands squeezed her hips and he pulled her back against his chest, “Luka!” she scolded when he left a quick kiss on the exposed skin on her shoulder. He smiled and made her spin around so that she could face him, his ocean eyes bright with admiration.

“You’re so beautiful,” Luka whispered, his voice still groggy from sleep.

Marinette let out a small laugh and put some distance between them to look up at him, “My hair is a mess, and I haven’t even had my coffee yet. You're only saying this because I'm wearing your clothes,” she countered playfully.

Luka chuckled and leaned in, “Not true, I'm saying this because I love you,” he whispered before pecking her lips, “And also because pink looks great on you.”

He kissed her again, deeper this time, making Marinette sigh on his lips before she reluctantly pulled away, “I love you too, but could we not have burned pancakes for breakfast?”

#lukanette #lbsc 250 followers celebration #Endgame Lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng

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polaroid15 · 3 years

Text

With Great Power...

Chapter 5: With great power comes a lack of self-care

Summary: May gets sick and Peter works himself to the bone taking care of her. Turns out his powers don't prevent him from getting sick after all.

Read on Ao3 HERE

-------

May is sick. Peter is losing his mind.

He bites his nails down to stubs and holds back her hair when she pukes out everything he’s tried to feed her. He helps her into bed and sits by her door long after he hears her breathing even out.

He can’t sleep so he scrubs the bathroom clean. When that’s done he cleans the kitchen and does his laundry twice. He grabs a pillow and blanket and lays down by May’s door, assured by her heartbeat, and wakes her up at four in the morning to help her choke down two fever reducers.

By the time sunlight streams in through the windows, he feels dead on his feet.

It’s worth it though. May wakes up with a temperature three degrees lower than the last time he had checked it. She kisses his forehead and ruffles his hair before taking a shower. She eats the entire bowl of soup Peter gives her and falls asleep with her head on his shoulder while they watch a movie.

For the first time since she’d gotten sick two days ago, Peter feels like he can breathe. His eyes droop, then close, and he lets go. When he opens them again it’s dark and May is gone. There’s a blanket tucked securely around his waist.

“May?” he croaks, wincing at the pain in his throat. He fights with the blanket and falls in an uncoordinated heap on the ground. “May!”

“Peter?”

Feeling lightheaded in his relief, Peter follows her voice to her bedroom. From the light in the hallway he can see her peer up at him from a heavy mound of blankets. She’s okay. She’s fine. “It’s almost one in the morning,” she says.

“Sorry,” he says shakily, straightening himself on the doorway. “I woke up and you were gone-”

May’s eyes soften in understanding. She pats the empty space beside her. “Come here.”

Without hesitation, Peter listens. He crawls into bed and lays beside her. She rests a comforting hand on his forearm. “I’m feeling a lot better baby. Everything’s okay now.”

“Okay,” he echoes, a deep relief making his eyes water.

“Thanks for taking care of me.”

He turns his head to look at her, barely finding her eyes in the darkness. “You always take care of me.”

“We take care of each other.”

It doesn’t take long for either of them to fall asleep.

-----

When Peter wakes up again the room is bright and warm with sunlight. Soft rustling sharpens his awareness over to May’s vanity. She’s sitting at the seat, running her fingers through her jewelry and selecting a jade necklace. She notices him through the mirror as she clips it behind her neck. “Did I wake you? Sorry.”

“‘S okay,” he says, mind cloudy with sleep. “You goin’ to work?”

“Yeah baby. I can’t miss any more time.”

“Oh.” Peter blinks to try to clear his vision and frowns when the effort is unsuccessful. “You feel okay?”

“Well enough,” she assures. She stands with a smile and grabs her purse. “You get some rest today, alright? Promise?”

“Promise,” Peter says. “There’s- there’s a gatorade in the fridge. Take it with you.”

May makes her way to his side and ruffles his hair. Her smile falls into a frown. “You feel a little warm. Are you feeling okay? I thought you couldn’t get sick-”

“Just hot from the blankets,” he says, though the more he thinks about it-

“Okay. Call me if you need me.”

With one final look of measured worry, May turns and makes her way towards the kitchen. He hears the fridge open before the front door does and smiles.

The apartment is quiet.

So quiet-

The next time Peter opens his eyes his stomach twists violently. With a watering mouth, the only thought he can muster is uh-oh, before he’s scrambling over May’s sheets to get to the bathroom. He barely makes it, catching himself by his forearms before heaving over the bowl.

Just like May, it never seems to end. He shivers and sweats and wishes she were here to help him. When it finally eases he collapses back against the bathtub and doesn’t have the strength to flush the toilet.

God, he’s thirsty.

It’s the only thing to get him onto his knees. After days of lecturing May about the importance of fluids, Peter can’t be one to ignore his own advice. He reaches for the tap and misses it by a mile. His reflection swims dangerously in front of his eyes.

“Tha’s not good,” he slurs to himself.

And then his eyes roll back up into his head. He isn’t awake long enough to feel himself hit the floor.

------

“Damn kid and these damn grey hairs-”

Tony grumbles to himself all the way from his empty lab to his car, and then all the way to the Parker’s apartment. The kid had been scheduled to come over hours ago and had never showed. It was more than unusual in itself, let alone the seven missed calls and thirteen unanswered text messages.

He checks on Karen, but Peter hasn’t been in his suit in days.

He texts May, but she doesn’t respond either.

He tries valiantly to convince himself that it’s nothing, that there’s probably a very safe and healthy explanation as to why Peter is dodging him. It’s not like he’s the kid’s father, for God’s sake. But no matter how hard he had tried to work in the lab alone the kid’s absence had made him too sick to his stomach to stay focused.

So here he is. The seventh floor. He knocks loudly at Peter’s door and frowns at the silence. If Peter’s wearing his watch, he should be here.

He should be here.

He knocks again.

Again.

With a dry throat, he tries to call the kid one last time. When his enthusiastic voice fills Tony’s ear via voicemail he shoves it back in his pocket and spends the next five minutes picking their lock.

Thankfully, no one sees.

“Hello?” he calls when it opens. The apartment is dark. “Peter? Are you here?”

There’s no answer. Pushing aside the invasivity of it all, he steps into the Parker home and shuts the door behind him. “Pete?”

Tony flicks on the lights and doesn’t bother to take off his coat. He heads towards Peter room but is stopped in his tracks long before he can reach it.

Because the bathroom door is open. Because he sees Peter sprawled out lifelessly on his back halfway into the hall. The fear that overtakes him at the sight is enough to freeze him until he sees Peter’s chest moving up and down in short, labored breaths.

“Kid!”

Tony’s knees ache when he slams them down beside the boy. He grabs at Peter’s fever-hot face and slaps lightly at his cheeks. “Wake up Peter. Come on buddy. This isn’t a good look for you.”

Groaning, Peter opens his eyes to slits. He looks up at Tony as if he’s the angel that’s come to bring him up to the pearly white gates and shudders against a cold sweat. “Tony?”

A delirious laugh bubbles out from his chest. He smooths back Peter’s hair and tries to ignore how his heart skips a beat at the heat rolling off his skin. “It’s Tony now huh? After all this time and you choose now?”

Peter’s eyebrows draw together in confusion. He shakes his head. “Wha’s happ’n?”

“You passed out on the bathroom floor.”

“Wha- why‘re you here?”

“Because you passed out on the bathroom floor dummy.”

Peter whines, his face paling behind the red hue of his fever. “Feel sick.”

“I know buddy. I’m sorry. I’m here to help. Where’s May?”

Peter considers this for a long time. “Mm. She’s sick too. Went to- went to work.” As if answering leeches all his energy, Peter’s eyes close and his head lolls. Tony shakes him until their eyes meet again. “Christ kiddo. You’re scaring me. I thought you weren’t supposed to get sick.”

Eyes shining with tears, Peter’s frown grows. “Tony.”

“Okay, we gotta get you up. Can you sit up? When’s the last time you drank something?”

“Don’ know. Tried. Fell. Don’ feel good.”

“I know Petey. I’m so sorry. Let me help you-”

Peter cries out before he can finish. The last of the color drains from his face quite suddenly and he goes boneless against the linoleum. Tony feels for a pulse and nearly cries at how erratic it feels against his fingertips.

“FRI! Call- call an ambulance.”

-----

Hours later, Tony sits beside May in Peter’s hospital room. The smell of antiseptic is giving him a headache and he holds his head in his hands, willing for the nauseating anxiety to leave with the pain in his skull.

Peter is okay, he tells himself. He’s fine. Stop worrying.

After some light threatening, the ambulance had arrived at the Parker residence in record time. Tony could barely keep up with their hurried descent to the street and had lost time in the ambulance. He had followed Peter as far as he could and then slid down the wall when the boy had disappeared.

Someone had taken a picture of him on their phone camera. He was too exhausted to yell at them.

He had called May. She was at his side in a matter of minutes.

She still is. Tony spares her a sympathetic glance. She’s sitting with her head resting on Peter’s arm, a wad of crumpled tissues held tight in her fist. None of them had thought Peter could even get sick, that it was outside the realm of possibility.

Turns out, he definitely can.

May catches him staring and offers a watery smile. “Thanks for taking care of him Tony.”

“It was nothing.”

“He was fine when I left. I was nowhere near this bad. If you hadn’t shown up-” she chokes and looks away.

Feeling a similar tightness in his own throat, Tony coughs to clear it before responding. “He’s okay now. That’s what matters.”

May nods slowly, but guilt still clouds her features. “He didn’t really sleep when I was sick. He spent every second taking- taking care of me.” She pauses, her mouth hanging open in unspoken words. Then, “when Ben and I found out his parents had died we were terrified. I never thought I’d be able to love him as much as I do. I don’t know what I’d do without him Tony. I swear to God. I’d die if I lost him.”

That makes two of us, Tony thinks. “He’s a good kid.”

“Too good sometimes.”

With great power-

Tony sighs. He stares at Peter’s lax face and feels something swoop in his stomach. “What can I do to help?” he asks.

May smiles weakly and threads her fingers through Peter’s hair. “You’re everything to him,” she says quietly. “You’re his idol, his hero. You’re there for him, Tony. You show up. That’s all I can ask for. You’re already helping.”

Biting hard on his cheek keeps his expression neutral, but he can’t prevent the flush that spreads across his face. He hopes May doesn’t notice. “He has the whole world on his shoulders. I wish he didn’t.”

“He’s a teenage superhero,” she laughs, though without humour, and hangs onto him more tightly. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever said that out loud before. My nephew is a teenage superhero.”

Tony chuckles along, rubbing his hands over his temples. “He can stick to walls.”

“Why- why the hell do we let him do this?”

Humming a non-answer, Tony shrugs. May’s eyes soften. “Ben would’ve been proud of him,” she says in a whisper. “I think- I think that’s why he does it. And why I let him. Ben would be proud.”

With great power, comes great responsibility.

“You’re a good Aunt.”

“Mm. I certainly try.”

“He’s going to be okay.”

“I know.”

Slowly, between them, Peter stirs. He blinks up at the ceiling as May smooths his hair back. Tony tries to ignore the way his heart skips a beat, or how he leans forward in his chair. “You back with us baby?”

Peter’s mouth turns up in a loopy grin. He stares at the ceiling as if it’s spinning. “Woah. Wow. Dreamt I was- I was Spider-Man. ‘S so cool.”

They both laugh. Peter smiles too even though he clearly doesn’t understand the context of the humour. He looks at May and some clarity leaks into his eyes. “You ‘kay?” he asks.

“Yeah baby. I’m okay. All thanks to you.”

“Yay,” he breathes. His head swivels heavily in Tony’s direction and his smile widens, which obliterates that last of Tony’s resolve to stay as stoic as possible. He feels his eyes well with tears. “How ya feeling kiddo?”

“High.”

“Yeah I’ll bet.”

Peter yawns and sinks further into the mattress. As his eyes flutter he says, “tired. Larb you guys.”

I larb you too, kid. More than you know.

The chairs suck, but May and Tony don’t leave his side.

Not even for a second.

#peter parker #tony stark #may parker #sickfic #fever #worried tony stark #tony stark acting as peter parkers parental figure #irondad #irondad fic #my fic #sick peter parker #peter parker whump #angst with fluff #one chapter to go!!

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novelconcepts · 3 years

Text

fic: the shape of it

for a prompt from @karatam

They expect the Lady to come, one day. They expect the Lady to take Dani, in the end.

They did not expect it to go like this.

“She’s going to take me,” Dani says in a voice so thick with resignation, it nearly kills Jamie outright. Says it like a foregone conclusion, like something biblical ingrained in her from childhood. Jamie looks at her, and thinks, She believes it. Nothing else matters. She believes this with her whole heart.

Jamie takes her hand anyway. Offers her company anyway. Loads up the car with bags and dreams of outrunning all of it anyway. The way she sees it, it’s the only path forward. Anything less would leave bits of Dani--bits of Jamie, too--behind in this house forever.

They are not running away together, exactly. They are moving slowly, carefully, checking the road ahead for obstacles and cracks in the pavement as they go. Slowly, the distance between the pair of them and Bly Manor expands. Slowly, the world stops looking so much like a ghost story. Jamie, more and more every day, thinks, She believed it with her whole heart, but maybe not so much anymore. Maybe not so much.

Even so, even as the months turn to years, Jamie can’t forget the certainty in Dani’s face that day as she said it. She’s going to take me. The most certain Dani has been about anything except Jamie herself. Though the days are gorgeous, long and lazy, stretching on like there will be millions more ahead, Jamie can’t forget. She’s going to take me.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” she murmurs, brushing Dani’s hair back. She’s fallen asleep on the couch again, her head in Jamie’s lap, and though it’s well past midnight, Jamie can’t bring herself to wake her. Moments like this. Moments like this are so many, and so precious, and so much more than how very small they seem.

Dani thinks the Lady will take her, someday. Jamie thinks Dani knows her own mind better than anyone. In two very different ways, they’re both primed to fight.

And even still, when it begins, it’s a blind strike to the side of the head.

***

Dani has lost her key.

It sounds so small, so nothing. She turns up at the shop an hour after she’s gone home to get dinner started, looking more than a little sheepish. Jamie, wrist-deep in repotting some of the hardier flowers, cocks her head.

“What’re you doing back? Don’t tell me the apartment caught fire.”

Dani, head bowed, sits behind the counter. “Can’t get in,” she says miserably. “Left the key somewhere.”

Jamie smiles. Dani hates making silly mistakes--she sometimes thinks it’s this vaguely type-A attitude that drew her toward teaching in the first place, toward helping kids not screw up the little things in life. It’s endearing, the rare occasion Dani lets her see a side of error not confined to her tragic inability to make a hot beverage.

“I’m sure it’s in with the laundry or something,” she says, brushing off her hands and setting aside her trowel. “No worries, I’m just about finished here anyway. You want to pick up tacos on the way?”

No worries. That’s how it feels, as a pouting Dani tucks her arm through Jamie’s bent elbow and follows her out of the shop. People misplace things every day--it’s not like Dani pitched her key down a gutter or something. It’ll turn up.

And, within an hour of arriving home with the best Mexican food suburban Vermont has to offer, it does: under Dani’s purse, dead center of a couch cushion. Jamie produces it with a flourish, dropping to one knee like a knight of old and raising it upon her palms like a magic sword.

“M’lady,” she drawls. “Your treasure.”

Dani laughs. She plucks the key from Jamie’s hand, tucks it into her hip pocket, pulls Jamie into a giggly kiss--and just like that, the matter is forgotten. A nothing. A moment.

If she looks a little puzzled, a little irritated with herself, it passes before Jamie can even comment.

***

The plants in the back are wilting.

Jamie stands, hands in her pockets, regarding them with some alarm. Shouldn’t be a problem, she thinks, running through the possibilities. Roots should have plenty of space. Lights are working fine. No sign of rot anywhere to be found. They just look a little...

“Dani,” she calls, eyes still on the yellowing leaves. Dani pokes her head through the door, a bundle of roses in her hands.

“Yeah?”

“Have you, uh. Watered these recently?”

She waits for the obvious answer. Dani always waters this side of the room. She takes the left, Jamie takes the right, and everybody gets the nourishment they need.

When Dani doesn’t answer for a full ten seconds, Jamie turns to her with a frown, surprised to find Dani’s brow furrowed like she’s thinking hard.

“I...thought I did,” she says slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I must have.”

“How many times this week?” Jamie asks. Dani closes her eyes as if counting.

“I...” She steps into the room like she’s half-asleep, staring at the plants so hard, it’s a wonder the flowers don’t burst into flame. “Twice? Three times, maybe. Or...”

More than that, Jamie thinks, gently lifting a drooping leaf and inspecting its unhealthy pallor. If she didn't know better, she’d say Dani had watered this poor thing twice a day for the last week.

“S’okay,” she says, though a faint bloom of annoyance is opening in her chest. “It’s salvageable, I think. Just so long as we let ‘em dry out some. Leave this side to me, okay?”

Dani is staring at the plant nearest to her like she’s never seen one before. Whatever annoyance Jamie feels at having to quite possibly start over with previously-perfect plants vanishes at the sight of her expression.

“Hey,” she says, taking Dani’s hands and squeezing. “Honestly, Dani, don’t worry about it. These things happen.”

Dani’s frown deepens as if to say not to me, they don’t. Jamie gives her hands a gentle swing from side to side until that frown lightens.

“Maybe I take care of the watering for a bit, yeah? You can supervise.”

She doesn’t look too closely at any of it, at the way Dani’s brow creases like she’s still trying to keep track of how many days are in the week. She doesn’t look too closely at why she’s just heard herself say “supervise” instead of “keep the books”, as she normally would. Don’t look at it. Dani’s fine.

Just a little scattered today, is all.

***

“It’s, uh...hang on...”

Dani is scowling at the ceiling, racking her brain for something Jamie can’t help with. There was a woman, a woman in the grocery store, who spoke to Dani as though she’d done it a hundred times.

“Barb?” Jamie suggests, plucking a name out of thin air. “Carol. Monica.”

Dani shushes her, flapping a hand for silence. Jamie shuts up, her mouth pulling into a relaxed grin she doesn’t quite feel.

Dani’s been doing this more and more lately--stopping mid-sentence to grope for some detail Jamie can’t see behind her eyes. It shouldn’t worry her. She doesn’t want it to worry her.

These things just happen, she tells herself, watching Dani bend forward to press her face with frustration against her knees. They’re getting older--have been together almost ten years now--and their lives are busy. Busy brains are easily worn out by an abundance of minor details, and sometimes, the less important stuff slips. It’s okay. It’s nothing to be concerned about.

Except Dani looks like she’s on the verge of tears, scraping around in her head for the name of some woman they ran into in the bread aisle. Dani is dragging deep breaths in that old familiar way that says the trigger is small, but the imminent explosion could take out the whole night.

“Poppins,” Jamie says, prodding at her ribs until she sits up and stares with wet eyes into Jamie’s face. “Is this a woman I’m meant to invite to dinner?”

Dani shakes her head. Jamie shrugs.

“Then I’m going to go right ahead and call her Honeywheat, and we can just be done with it.”

Dani laughs--not a real laugh, but a huff through her nose to tell Jamie she’s trying. Jamie smooths a thumb across her cheekbone, pretending this hasn’t been happening more and more frequently. Pretending she hasn’t noticed just how badly it pulls at Dani’s threads, each time she loses track of something small.

“Charlene!” Dani says, half an hour later, practically shouting the word into the silence of the living room. Jamie jumps, losing her place in her book, looks up to find Dani staring at her with a fierce sort of pride that scares her. It’s a look that says I did it, and I’m okay, goddammit, and this is not happening.

“Charlene, hm?” Jamie repeats. “I think I prefer Honeywheat.”

***

The day of the fire, she has to admit there’s cause for concern.

She thinks, at first, it’s just her. That she’s had such a long day at the shop, been yelled at by far too many young men who didn’t understand why it’s less than appropriate to give your spouse flowers by way of asking for a divorce, and her brain has been scrambled. It’s the only explanation, she thinks, for smelling smoke the minute she walks into the apartment building.

Except it gets worse as she heads up the stairs. Worse still, until she’s fitting the key into the lock, opening the door, realizing with a jolt of horror that the smell is both very real and very much coming from the kitchen.

“Dani?” she calls, and her voice sounds to her own ears like a scream echoing over a moonlit lake. She forces the panic down, forces herself to walk--not run--to the kitchen and survey the damage.

A plate of something undefinable is sitting in the microwave. It is no longer on fire, she notes, but the microwave is still, as she wrenches it open, counting down. The little green numbers flash 40:03, blinking at her, waiting to resume their cook time.

“Dani!” she calls again, jamming her thumb into the Clear button and slamming the microwave shut on a wall of acrid smoke.

“Yeah?” Thank Christ. Dani, poking her head out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body. “You’re home! ...what’s that smell?”

“You tell me,” Jamie says, more sharply than she intends; her heart is in her throat, blocking off anything resembling restraint. She staggers toward Dani, whose face is the picture of bemusement.

“It’s not...coming from our kitchen?”

“Dani.” Jamie takes her by the shoulders, reassured by the soft slide of Dani’s skin against her palms. Real. Here. Okay. “You had something cooking. Did you...”

Forget, she doesn’t say. The color pours out of Dani’s face, answering the question so completely, Jamie sags against her.

“Threw it in,” Dani says slowly. “Leftovers. Just...”

Jamie thinks she can guess. Threw it in, walked away, forgot it completely. Would have been fine, if that had been all. If Dani had simply spaced on the idea of retrieving the dish before it grew cold, if she’d opted for a shower instead, there would have been no harm done.

Except that counter was so high. Except Dani had, plainly, set the timer for nearly an hour.

Dani is looking at the smoke hazing the air, polluting the hall, with an expression of such grim anxiety, Jamie nearly forgets to breathe. Pull it together. She needs you to keep focus.

“I’m sorry,” Dani says, so softly, Jamie would have missed it if not for staring at Dani’s face like it might slip away at any second. “I don’t know how...”

“It’s okay.” Jamie pulls her close, struggling to keep her heart from pounding out of her chest. So much could have gone wrong. If they hadn’t gotten lucky. If she hadn’t gotten home in time. So much could have-- “It’s okay.”

“Jamie?” Dani’s voice is tiny, her face turned against Jamie’s neck. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

***

She calls Owen after Dani falls asleep, careful to keep her voice down. France is six hours ahead, and it’s clear her call catches him still in bed, but his voice is cheerful all the same.

“Jamie! Big surprise. How’s everything--”

“How did it start?” Jamie keeps her voice low, her eyes on the hall. She doesn’t like leaving Dani alone in the bedroom, doesn’t like the idea of Dani waking and not knowing where she is. Make it quick, then.

“Sorry?” Owen sounds confused, and rightly so. “How did what start?”

“Your mum.” She can’t think of a cleaner way to approach it, a nice, easy route to opening Owen’s old scars. “How did it start, with her?”

He’s silent for so long, she wonders if the connection has severed. Finally: “Jamie, what’s going on?”

She can’t. She can’t get into it. If she says too much, if she explains what she’s been seeing in drips and drops over the past few years, it might cement the whole thing into reality. She can’t.

“Please,” she says, hearing her own voice break with exhaustion. “Just tell me.”

***

There are tests. Dani doesn’t want to take them, and Jamie quite frankly doesn’t want to force it, but there are tests all the same. CT scans, and doctors who ask probing questions that grit Dani’s teeth and put fire into her eyes, and Jamie thinks for a hopeful few minutes that this is stupid. That they don’t need to be here. That Dani is okay, and fierce, and strong, and here.

“I’m not going to say there’s no cause for concern,” the doctor says, when Dani has jumped through all his hoops. “But your scans don’t show much yet, and your grasp on those questions seems strong. Keep an eye on it, all right? Call me if there’s any change.”

He’s looking at Jamie like he knows why she’s here, why she’s standing just a few inches from Dani’s side. She nods once, sharp, and he pats Dani lightly on the shoulder.

“You’re young,” he says, like youth means anything at all where tragedy is concerned. “I have a good feeling about this.”

***

Jamie starts coming home when Dani does, starts waiting for her to get ready before going into the shop. She can’t help when Dani loses track of details inside her head--the date, their plans for the weekend, a longtime customer’s name--but she can help with other things. With knowing exactly where Dani’s purse is at all times. With knowing exactly where Dani’s favorite earrings are. With knowing exactly when Dani last ate.

“You don’t have to do that,” Dani says in a voice like iron. Jamie raises her head from the salad she’s preparing for lunch.

“Don’t have to...?”

“Fuss,” Dani says, almost coldly. “I’m fine, Jamie.”

It hits her like a punch, almost doubling her over, the look in Dani’s eyes. Some horribly chilly combination of frustration and anger, maybe not at Jamie, but directed her way all the same. She pauses, setting the cheese grater down, looking Dani in the eye.

Really? Only, the last time I didn’t set us up with a timely meal, you went ten hours without eating anything and nearly passed out on me.

She doesn’t say the words. Instead, she says, “I love you.” It’s become a mantra in moments like this, when Dani is so not herself, it’s like staring at someone else in a mirror. I love you. I love you on bad days, and I love you when you remember every detail of our first kiss, and I love you tomorrow.

The fight goes out of Dani’s body, her hand cupping around her eyes. The gold of her ring stands out in the afternoon sun, and Jamie thinks, It’s still her. It’s still her.

“I’m sorry. I just...I feel...”

Jamie moves toward her slowly, like approaching a trapped animal. She's never moved like this with Dani in all the time they’ve been together, never felt the need, but lately, Dani is so unpredictable it hurts.

“Trapped,” Jamie suggests softly. Dani nods into her hand. “I’ve been hovering.” Dani nods again. “Too much?”

Hesitation. A final nod that is also sort of a shake. Jamie sighs.

“Just want to make sure I don’t--” Lose you. “--miss out on something important, is all. I’m sorry, too. I can back off some.”

It terrifies her to say so, to promise that when Dani sometimes looks around the living room like it’s brand-new. But Dani’s right. She isn’t a child. She doesn’t need Jamie to treat her as such. She’s okay. She’s still here.

“I love you,” she says again, and Dani walks into her arms like she’s the only thing in the room not spinning.

***

She tries not to panic, when Dani doesn’t come home. Tries to will herself back to ancient therapy techniques, to breathing rituals, to steady reminders that Dani is okay. Dani is fine. Dani has had a really good couple of weeks, in fact, and when she told Jamie she wanted to stop off at the store after work, Jamie had agreed.

An hour passes. Two. Jamie’s pacing, doing fevered mental math: the shop is a ten-minute walk from the apartment, the grocery store a five-minute walk from the shop. How long does it take to pick up eggs, cheese, tomatoes? Half an hour?

Okay, she thinks, forcing a calming breath through her nose. Okay, so that’s five--fifteen--forty-five minutes...

Not five minutes after this less-than-bracing thought, she’s throwing on a jacket and storming out the door. A fifteen-minute walk to the grocery store, she completes in eight. The cashier is a teenager in an outdated Nirvana t-shirt, looking at her like she’s out of her mind when she blows through the doors and says, “Blonde woman, brown jacket, one blue eye, one brown. Seen her?”

He has not. She forces herself not to sprint through the tiny store, peering doggedly down each aisle in turn. No sign of Dani.

The shop, then. She makes her way back, cups her hands around her eyes as she leans into the dark window. Door is still locked, and not a light is burning. Dani wouldn’t shut them off unless she was at the door--no matter what happens, no matter how confused she gets, she never plunges herself into darkness until she’s ready to make an escape into light.

Breathe, Jamie thinks. Breathe. Maybe she’s just taking a stroll.

She walks for blocks, her legs carrying her at twice the normal speed, looking around every corner with absolute terror. When she finds Dani at last, seated on a bench outside their favorite Mexican restaurant, the relief almost stops her heart.

“Dani.”

Miserable eyes turn up to her, Dani’s face shell-shocked. “How long,” she says brokenly, “have we lived here? In this neighborhood.”

Jamie swallows. “Fifteen years.”

Dani nods, like she’s just given a complicated multiplication problem to a student who got it right on the first go. “Fifteen years,” she repeats. “Jamie. I couldn’t. I couldn’t remember--”

Jamie drops down beside her, arms wrapping tight, not caring who might be looking. Dani is so small, hands gripping Jamie’s shoulders, shaking all over.

“I’ve got you,” Jamie murmurs. “I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

***

“It’s her,” Dani says. They’re laying in bed, Jamie’s head on Dani’s chest, Jamie trying desperately not to count all the things that have gone wrong in Dani’s head this week. How Dani stared in confusion at an order she’s put together a hundred times. How Dani snapped at a customer, who looked at her like she’d just stabbed his mother. How Dani had been midway through a joke when she lost track of the punchline, and looked ready to burst into tears.

“It’s her,” Dani repeats. Jamie raises her head.

“Dani...”

“It’s. Her.” Dani reaches for her hand, fingers pressing down on the gold band she once hid in a plant. Jamie closes her eyes, inhales.

“Dani, I don’t want you to--you can’t go thinking--”

“Every day,” Dani says, her eyes on the ceiling. It’s like she thinks looking at Jamie would splinter her self-control. “Every day, I feel it a little less.”

Jamie waits. She’ll go on, eventually, explain herself. Jamie hates cutting her off, hates stepping in the way of a thought, lest Dani never quite get it back again.

“Every day,” she says at last, “we’re here. Living our lives. I see that, I feel...I feel you touching me, I feel how much we...and still, it’s like...like someone’s putting up glass. That fogged-up glass you can only see shapes through, you know? I can see us through it, but every day, that fog gets a little thicker.”

Her voice trembles, her throat working. Jamie shifts until her fingers are threaded with Dani’s, clenching tight.

“You’re here,” she says, unable to think of anything more reassuring. It’s what she’s been telling herself about Dani for months. Years. That Dani, no matter what else is going on, is still here with her. Still smiling at her. Still whispering her name in the dark.

“What if I’m not?” Something in Dani’s voice wavers to breaking, a hairline fracture in the words. “What if I’m looking at you, and I...I...”

Jamie can’t breathe. A muscle is jumping under her jaw, straining against the sob she’s been holding back for days.

“What if I’m looking at you when she takes me,” Dani whispers, and Jamie breaks. Can’t not. She presses her face against Dani’s skin, tears coming hot, and Dani holds fast to her like they both know the ship is going down.

“I love you,” she says, that same voice Jamie’s been leaning into for almost twenty years. “I love you. I love you. I love--”

***

“How is she?” Owen crosses his legs, sips his beer. Jamie’s own leg is fidgety, sock-clad foot hammering a mad rhythm against the floor.

“She’s...”

“How is she?” Owen repeats before she can polish off a pretty lie. She shuts her eyes against his too-kind stare.

“Told the same story four times yesterday.”

He’s nodding, sympathetic. “Mum used to get stuck on one about the best dinner she ever made. How she rescued it at the last second from burning. Proudest moment of her life, I think, except for the day I got into culinary school.”

Jamie sighs. “It was about the kids.”

“Ah.” He leans back, surveying her as though looking for cracks. If he finds any, he wisely keeps it to himself. Jamie, bottle still angled toward her lips, leans a little to look down the hall. The bedroom door is shut, no sign of Dani waking.

“I tried to get her to stay up,” she says, wondering why she feels the need to convince Owen, of all people. “She does miss you.”

She doesn’t tell him about the heartbeat of confusion, the way Dani’s brow had knit when Jamie mentioned he was coming into town. How, for a second, Dani had seemed uncertain if she knew Owen from Bly, or from Iowa.

“There’s always breakfast,” he says, placidly keeping tempo with this song they’re tossing back and forth, the one that goes everything is okay, everything is just fine, so long as we don’t look at it.

It’s good to be around someone who understands, even if she doesn’t really want to talk about it. Good to know Owen, who is watching her with knowing eyes, remembers all too well what it feels like to watch someone slip away.

“Seem to remember,” she says, taking the last swig and dropping the bottle against the breakfast bar, “saying once that this was a just shoot me situation. That it wasn’t fair.”

“And now?” He unfolds from his seat, moving in three strides to the fridge to replace her drink. Owen Sharma, at home in any kitchen without even trying.

“Now,” she sighs, “I don’t care about fair. I don’t care about burdens. I don’t care about anything except making sure she still....she’s still...”

He hands her the bottle, leans his elbows against the counter. There’s an abundance of gray in his hair these days, and contacts in his eyes. He smiles like Owen, though. Always that familiar, warm smile.

“She’s still your Dani,” he says. It isn’t a question. “Even on the days she isn’t. It’s the hardest part, maybe, remembering that. When she slips up, or can't remember the apartment number, or gets angry because you’ve reminded her of a gap she knows shouldn’t be there. But, Jamie, remember. She is still Dani.”

“I know.” Jamie scuffs a hand under her nose, rubs hard against her wet eyes. “I know. And sometimes she is so Dani. As if she was never anything else.”

As if, she doesn’t add, there wasn’t something else in there with her. Wiping her away a little at a time. Something else, matching her movements. Waiting.

“To Dani Clayton,” Owen says, raising his bottle and clinking against her own. “Your anchor.”

***

She thinks she’s getting used to it, if this is something one can get used to. Thinks she’s building a rhythm, a routine, around Dani’s bad days. Little jokes work sometimes. Little kisses and touches. Dani responds to Poppins better than her own name now, and Jamie leans into it, trying to pretend that doesn’t tear at her. Trying to pretend she can go back to a time when safety was a nickname, a silly joke on her lips to keep the well of feelings from overwhelming her good sense.

She says, “Morning, Poppins” and “I love you, Poppins”, and “G’night, Poppins”, like she hasn’t mostly been calling Dani by her real name since the day she admitted just how in love she was.

Even so, it’s a method of getting by. Dani is still Dani, after all, just as Owen said. Maybe sometimes she thinks it’s 1987, and maybe sometimes she thinks there are ghosts in the mirrors, and maybe sometimes she looks sharply up from a movie with the name “Eddie” harsh on her lips. Sure. Sometimes. But, mostly, she is still Dani.

Jamie is prepared, most days, for the mood swings and the bewilderment. For finding Dani’s toothbrush in the bedroom, or relocating Dani’s wallet back into her bag. She’s prepared for almost all of it, after so much time.

Nothing. Nothing can prepare her for the day Dani forgets her name.

They’re setting about readying for the day--readying themselves for the plane, in fact, which is slated to leave in three hours--and Dani has gone off to the bathroom to shower. She returns in one of Jamie’s softest shirts, her legs bare, her hair dripping. Jamie raises her eyes from last-minute packing, smiling.

“Nice and clean, then?”

Dani freezes. Turns slowly on her heel. Stares at Jamie like she’s never seen her before.

Something in Jamie cracks. Something in Jamie, something she didn’t even know could break, splintering wide open.

“I--who--” Dani, backing up fast, backing toward the door. It’s like she walked into her apartment to find some burglar lurking at the foot of her bed. Her hand extends, warding Jamie off, and Jamie realizes she’s been trying instinctively to move closer. To take Dani into her arms. To remind her.

“Dani. Poppins. Hey.” Each word, a knife turned back on herself. Each word, a question. She’s never said Dani’s name like this, with so much uncertainty weighed into each letter. “Dani, please.”

It’s the please that really breaks her. The please, like begging Dani for the kindness of her own name on Dani’s lips is something she ever thought she’d need to prepare for.

Dani blinks. Blinks again. Raises her left hand, stares hard at the band wrapped around her third finger. As Jamie watches, she touches the heart, the hands, the crown.

“Jamie?”

She’s on her knees, she realizes, on her knees on the floor with her arms wrapped around herself, and Dani is all but running to her. She’s on her knees, sobbing, feeling as though she could not be more wrung out if she’d walked in to find Dani cold on the bed.

Don’t let me find out, she thinks desperately, please, fuck, don’t ever let me find out how that feels compared to this.

“Jamie,” Dani says against the top of her head, holding her, “Jamie, hey, shh, come on...”

She doesn’t know, Jamie thinks wildly. She has no idea where she just went. No idea what almost washed away just now. She doesn’t know.

“Still here,” Jamie rasps through a sob. “You’re still here?”

Dani is silent a moment, and Jamie knows she’s heard it: the question at the end of the sentence, placed there for the very first time. Her hand tucks beneath Jamie’s chin, guiding her face up until her swollen eyes are staring into Dani’s tired ones.

“Still here,” she says softly. “I promise.”

***

Twenty years. It’s been twenty years, almost to the day, and California is glorious. Vermont is home, and Jamie would never trade it, but there’s just something about California she loves. The air is sweeter, somehow. The people, warmer. Or maybe they just care less.

Dani holds to her arm like a life preserver as they make their way through people much younger and more aloof than they’ve been in years. Jamie tries to stand taller, tries to look as though she belongs among Flora’s friends. Flora, who barely knows who she is, even--her eyes coasted right over Jamie when she walked up, right past Dani’s smile, the polite disinterest of a stranger.

It’s different than what she’s been watching with Dani. Different--but no less harsh, in its own quieter way.

Miles, practically a man now, shakes their hands with undue formality. Henry, just this side of relaxed, kisses her cheek. Embraces Dani. Jamie tries not to notice how her wife goes stiff in his arms, like there’s some part of her that can’t quite put a finger on why he feels entitled to such friendliness.

“Flora’s uncle,” Jamie whispers against Dani’s hair under the guise of a kiss. Dani nods once to show she understands, smiles at Henry like it’s summer, like it’s ‘87, like she couldn’t forget her past no matter how hard she tried.

“Lovely to see you both,” Henry says, oblivious to it all. Jamie’s glad she kept this to herself, kept it between Dani and her and Owen. No one else knows Dani here, anyway. No one needs to pry into the battle she’s been waging for two decades.

The rehearsal dinner is pleasant--everyone drinking a little too much, Flora beaming up at her groom-to-be, Owen telling bad jokes and advising them both to run off to Bali. With Dani’s hand gripping hers on the tablecloth, in full view of the world, Jamie almost feels at home. If she has to lean over from time to time to whisper a name in Dani’s ear, if she has to gently guide Dani to the bathroom, it all feels fitting of an out-of-town wedding. It’s fine. It’s okay. They can do this.

They’re sitting in the parlor of a presumably-haunted wedding venue, Dani leaning out of her chair to hold Jamie’s hand, when Jamie hears herself say it. She hadn’t planned on it in advance. It feels like flirting with fire, somehow, something that might keep them all warm or burn them all down.

“I have a story,” she says, Dani’s fingers warm around her own. “Well. It isn’t really my story...”

She glances up, catching Dani’s eyes, and for a heartbreaking moment, finds them blank. Dani, looking at her with jaw clenched and brow furrowed, trying to place herself. Trying to ward off the thing still working so hard to take her from all of them.

“It isn’t my story,” Jamie says again, a question, seeking permission. Dani’s face clears. She smiles. Nods once.

Jamie leans forward, takes a steadying drink. This may not do anything, she cautions herself. May not matter beyond the scope of a single night, with a room full of strangers waiting on her next words. Tomorrow, Dani might wake and not have the first idea whose bed she is sharing.

That, Jamie thinks firmly, is tomorrow.

“The teacher,” she begins, squeezing Dani’s hand, “was, by choice, a solitary young woman...”

#the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #fanfiction #dani x jamie #jamie x dani #this is 1000% jess' fault #she knows it #and I genuinely wasn't sure I could write it but #here it is anyway #I promise future stories will make up for uhh any emotional damages

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