#i just like him. i like his grumpy little self getting to raise someone from the drad. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theostrophywife · 8 months

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kiss with a fist | chapter seven.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: it's nice to have a friend by taylor swift.

author's note: more fluff, more banter. this chapter is just self indulgent cuteness.

Being friends with Theodore Nott was strange.

Though you still bickered and bantered, the undertone of your interactions were less hostile and more suggestive in nature. Theo had always been a flirt, but you never realized how good he was at it until your usual response of irritation sharpened into something else. It didn’t help that his presence around you had become more constant now that Luna and Pansy made things official.

“They’re sickeningly adorable,” Theo said as he slid into the bench next to you. “I’m fighting the urge to retch.”

You glanced up to find Pansy and Luna huddled close together, whispering and giggling at one another. “Oh, absolutely vile. No one should be subjected to their shameless canoodling this early in the morning.”

Theo poked your thermos with a piece of french toast. “Just like you shouldn’t subject yourself to that sorry excuse of a coffee flavor.”

You took an exaggerated swig and smiled. “The pumpkin spice is here to stay. You’re free to leave if you don’t like it, Theo.”

His eyes glittered with mischief. “Hmm, maybe I didn’t get a good enough taste last time. I think I’ll try again.”

“Don’t you dare, Theodore,” you warned, cradling your thermos protectively.

“Is it Theodore now?” He asked, raising a brow. “And here I thought I’d earned first name privileges out of that pretty mouth. Amongst other things.”

“Yeah, well, you seem to like abusing the privilege so maybe I should start cutting back on my generosity.”

“I think you’ll find that I’m equally as generous, if not more.” His smirk grew when he noticed you growing flustered. “I’d be happy to demonstrate, Y/N. In a broom closet. In an empty classroom. In either one of our dorms. Hell, even in the middle of this damned hall if you asked.”

“Tempting,” you said sarcastically as you attempted to hide the tinge of red that had crept up your neck behind a curtain of hair. “Sadly, getting expelled for exhibitionism isn’t really on my to do list.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Suit yourself. Just know that I have no qualms on getting on my knees for you, diavolina.”

You nearly choked on your coffee while Theo smiled innocently.

“Oi! Am I losing it or is this bacon burnt to a crisp?” Mattheo exclaimed as he obnoxiously plopped down next to you.

Enzo sat across from him and took a bite out of his toast. “You did ask for it to be extra fried.”

“I asked for it to be fried, not charred.”

Theo sighed. “What are you two tossers on about now?”

Malfoy appeared out of nowhere and took the spot beside his cousin. “Riddle’s convinced that the house elves are out to get him.”

“They are out to get me! Look at this monstrosity.”

“Yes, I’m sure Winky’s actively planning your demise,” responded Blaise with an eye roll. “You’ve officially lost the plot, mate.”

You blinked, utterly bewildered at how and when you’d adopted the four Slytherins into your circle. Across the table, Pansy frowned in disapproval. Her little bubble of bliss had been abruptly popped by the presence of the boys.

“You lot are scaring our poor Ravenclaw friends.”

Berkshire gave you a sheepish smile. “Sorry, girls. We’re sort of a package deal. When you date one of us, you date the whole lot.”

“Oh, joy,” you deadpanned. “I’ve always wanted to be in a polyamorous relationship.”

Mattheo smirked. “We are quite good at sharing. Aren’t we, boys?”

You wrinkled your nose in disgust. “On second thought, I think I’d prefer dying alone.”

“For Salazar’s sake, you’re even meaner than Pansy,” he muttered at his blackened bacon.

You smiled sweetly. “Aw, is someone a little grumpy because they got served ash for breakfast? Poor little Riddle.”

Malfoy snorted. “I wouldn’t mess with her, Mattheo. You know she almost pushed Vane off the bleachers the other day.”

“I did not!”

Theo chuckled. “Yeah, but you wanted to.”

You bit back a smile. “Maybe a little.”

“Everyone is talking about the dressing down you gave her,” Enzo said. “You’re kind of a badass, Y/N.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “More badass than you boys will ever be. Now stop pestering the poor girl and let her eat breakfast in peace.”

Despite the rough start, the rest of the meal was actually quite enjoyable. The Slytherins fought and argued like siblings, but you could tell that they all cared deeply for one another. No matter how much they teased and taunted each other, the boys were like rowdy brothers and Pansy, their elder sister and glue of the family. They all seemed to defer to the fearsome witch and you couldn’t blame them.

Parkinson was terrifying, but in the most amusing way.

As you wrapped up the morning, Pansy turned and the boys immediately fell silent. “Don’t forget our trip to Hogsmeade at the end of the week. You’re invited too, Y/N.”

“I have to stu—”

Pansy held her palm up. “Don’t bother. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Mattheo snickered. “What’s the matter, Y/N? Are you and Notty boy too busy eating each other’s gel—”

“Finish that sentence and I will impale you with my fork.”

Malfoy smirked. “Please do, Y/N. I’d like front row tickets to the show.”

“In that case, it’ll be a hundred galleons. A bargain, considering how deep those pockets are, Malfoy.”

“Violence and extortion?” Blaise asked with a sly smile. “I can see why young Theodore is enamored with you, Y/N.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Zabini.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “You’re all honestly giving me a migraine. Parkinson, seeing as you’ve given me no choice, count me in for Hogsmeade. Loons, I’ll see you back at our dorm. To the rest of you, please do consider a refresher on manners. Except for you, Berkshire. You’re a sweetheart. No idea why you’re friends with this lot.”

Enzo blushed to the tips of his ears. The rest of the boys protested, but you were already halfway through the Great Hall to entertain their complaints.

“Enzo’s a sweetheart, is he?” Theo asked, smoothly matching your stride as you walked across the sunny courtyard.

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Nott.”

He gasped, clutching his heart. “First Theodore, now Nott? You wound me, Y/N.”

The crisp autumn air filled your lungs as you and Theo sauntered through the castle grounds. “Following me now? Zabini was right. You are enamored with me.”

“Oh, absolutely enthralled, darling. You have bewitched me—mind, body, and soul.”

“You did not just quote Jane Austen to me.”

“I saw your tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice,” Theo said with a smirk. “I imagine quoting Mr. Darcy is a bit like foreplay to you.”

“Foreplay implies that you’re going to get lucky, which you’re not.”

“Is that why you’re leading me into a secluded forest?”

“I’m not leading you anywhere. You’re choosing to follow me. Stalking is the more accurate descriptor.”

“Maybe I’m curious as to why you’re going into the Forbidden Forest by yourself. Don’t tell me you’re meeting a handsome Mr. Darcy type out here.”

“Close. I’m here to meet Henry.”

Theo paused, furrowing his brows. “Who in the bloody hell is Henry?”

“You’ll see.”

The forest thickened and the unmistakable crunch of the freshly fallen leaves echoed in the clearing as you trotted on them with your boots. You stood underneath a towering oak tree whose gnarled roots choked the damp earth underneath your feet. As loud as you could manage, you placed two fingers in your mouth and whistled.

Beyond the tree line, a soft rustling emerged. You turned and found Henry galloping towards you. The thestral was barely a few weeks old, small and spindly with milky eyes and a sharp snout. He flapped his bat-like wings shyly as you knelt to the earth. You patted between his horns and smiled at the baby thestral.

“Theo, meet Henry.”

Theo crouched beside you. “Hello, Henry.”

The foal peered curiously at Theo. Henry glanced up as you gave him a reassuring nod.

“You can pet him, if you’d like. He’s fond of ear scratches and belly rubs.”

Theo looked unsure for a moment before gently scratching behind Henry’s ear. The baby thestral cooed and melted into his touch.

“Here, you can help me feed him too.”

You pulled out a sack of treats and handed some to Theo. “Henry’s quite young, so he’s not able to hunt for himself yet. Hagrid said that these treats will keep him healthy and fed until he gets his bearings.”

“I didn’t know that they could be this small. I just always assumed that all thestrals emerged as full adults.”

“Most of them are. The birth of a thestral is actually quite rare. This one here is the first baby born in over a decade.”

Theo nodded as Henry happily devoured the treats. There was a small smile on his face as the small horse nuzzled its snout into his palm. “I didn’t realize that you could see them too.”

“Yeah, after the war I’m able to see them as clear as day.” You scratched underneath Henry’s chin. “I suppose most of the school can, too. I think they look at the thestrals and see the loss of innocence. The price of war. The death and carnage. But when I see this little guy, I’m reminded of all the sacrifices that others have made so that I could be here. Henry symbolizes a new beginning. It’s not always pretty, but it’s real.”

The foal cooed as he basked in attention and affection. You and Theo played with him for a few minutes, giving him scratches after he diligently finished the last of his food. The thestral whinied in thanks before heading beyond the trees again. Henry flapped his wings happily, stirring the autumn leaves below him as he skittered off.

“Will he be alright?” Theo asked.

“He’s got his mum. She’ll look after him.”

Theo smiled a bit. “I suppose she will.”

The two of you walked back towards the castle in comfortable silence. In the past few weeks, Hogwarts had been suspended between autumn and winter. The air was tinged with chill and frost, but the first snowfall of the season was late in its arrival and you couldn’t wait for the day when snow covered the castle grounds again.

You had always adored snow. One of your earliest memories was waking up on Christmas morning to find London covered in a glittering blanket of white. You always considered that moment as your first real glimpse of magic. Especially after you and your mum spent the entire day making snow angels in the front yard while your father snapped pictures.

“What was your mum like, Theo?” you asked, your breath forming a cloud in front of you.

Theo slipped his hands in his pockets. “Beautiful. Smart. Funny. That’s what I remember most about her. She had a wicked sense of humor. We used to pull all sorts of pranks on each other when I was little.” He grinned as he recalled a memory. “She rigged my very first broom to make farting sounds every time I flew. Malfoy laughed so hard he tumbled into a bush.”

“That must have been fun growing up.”

“It was. Mum was a lot of fun, but she could be strict too. I swear I knew all of the basic spells and wand movements before I even stepped foot in school. She said I had to ace my studies at Hogwarts if I wanted to get into Cambridge.”

You smiled. “What was her favorite subject?”

“Most would guess potions, but it was actually a close tie with transfiguration. Mum once turned Goyle’s dad’s sock into a snake after he made fun of her haircut in fifth year. Professor McGonagall still brings it up to this day. Says mum was one of her best students.”

“I bet,” you said with a chuckle. “Now I know where you get all your mischievousness from.”

“My nonna always said that raising me was like raising her all over again. I swear, the old bat holds herself back from calling me Vittoria half of the time.”

“Is that your mum’s name? Vittoria?” Theo nodded. “It’s very pretty.”

“It means victory. My family is very intentional with names.”

“What does Theodore mean?”

“Divine gift.”

“It seems fitting for someone who generally acts like they’re a gift from above.”

Theo rolled his eyes fondly. His expression turned serious as you rounded through the Black Lake. “For years, mum tried and failed to get pregnant. Her health was already precarious to begin with and the healers told her that having children would be difficult. When she discovered that she was pregnant with me, mum called me her little miracle.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“I’m not sure how much of a miracle I turned out to be though. After she had me, mum’s health declined. She was bedridden a lot of the time until she passed. My father always said that she might’ve lived longer had I not been born.”

His jaw clenched. You were aware that Theo didn't have the best relationship with his father. The elder Nott had always seemed cold and standoffish the few times you'd glimpsed him on the platform with Theo. By their stiff interactions, it was easy to surmise that they weren't very close. Whatever obligatory ties they might've had was swiftly severed after Theo testified against his father after the war.

Despite the fact that he was locked far away in Azkaban, you hated that Mr. Nott still had the power to hurt his son. Even if it was just cruel words from the past.

"I'm glad you were." You bumped him with your hip. “What a dreary world it would’ve been without you, Theodore Nott.”

Theo bumped you back, catching you around the waist. “What about you? What are your mum and dad like?”

“My dad’s a conductor for the philharmonic, but he was a musician years before that. He can play pretty much every instrument. My mum’s a barrister. I used to put on her wig and robes and pretend that I was defending a case like I’d seen her do at court.”

“That explains a lot,” Theo mused thoughtfully. “The angry piano playing. The constant arguing. I feel like I’m truly getting a full picture of you, Y/N.” You stuck your tongue out rather petulantly, which only made Theo chuckle. “What about siblings?”

You shook your head. “I’m an only child.”

“So am I,” he said. “Though I never truly felt like it. I have an exorbitant amount of cousins. The Marchesis reproduce like rabbits, but it made for a fun childhood. Plus, there’s Pansy and the boys who are pretty much my family at this point. We’ve all known each other since birth.”

“That must’ve been nice. All my cousins were significantly older, so I was never really around children my age until I came here. All the other muggle kids thought I was too serious and grown up and I thought they were all childish and quite stupid.”

“That doesn’t surprise me one bit.” Theo draped his arm over your shoulder, ruffling your hair. “Did you ever get lonely?”

“No. My parents were my best friends, as lame as that sounds.”

“I don’t think it sounds lame at all.”

You grinned. “Besides them, Luna was the first friend I ever made. Now, she’s more like a sister to me and I feel rather protective of her.”

“Pansy told me you interrogated her about her intentions.”

You shrugged. “Just covering my bases.”

“You know, Pansy’s mum and my mum were friends back then. She was overprotective of her friends too.”

“Sounds like my kind of witch.”

A faint smile bloomed on Theo’s face. “It’s nice to be able to talk about her.”

“That’s what friends are for, Theo.”

He stopped at the edge of the lake. Theo towered over you, nearly covering your small frame from view. He brushed his knuckles against your jaw, studying you thoughtfully. “Is that what we are, amorina? Friends?”

You tilted your chin up and met his gaze head on. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all. I’ll be whatever you want, Y/N,” Theo said as he traced your bottom lip with his thumb. “As long as I get to do this.”

Theo closed the gap between you and your breath stalled as his arm snaked around your waist. He pulled you flush against him, his mouth inches away from your own. Theo studied you for a moment, taking in your flushed cheeks and dilated pupils before pressing his lips against yours. A tingling sensation set your body alight as he kissed you with a burning devotion reserved for the most ardent zealot.

The kiss was a prayer, an alm, a petition to the divine, but the words were in a language that you couldn’t understand.

His eyes burned like a funeral pyre and you felt the heat of it brush against your very core. Theo brushed his thumb against your cheek, his voice as rough and calloused as his touch.

“Sono pazzo di te.”

“I’m afraid that’s beyond my grasp of the Italian language. What did you say, Theo?”

Theo smiled. “I said I’ll race you to Charms!”

Before he even finished the sentence, Theo took off running. You yelled after him, cheeks red and hair streaming behind you as you chased him up the steps. You were out of breath and panting and very aware of how ridiculous you looked, but it was also the hardest you’ve ever laughed in your life.

The formal invitation to Professor Slughorn’s dinner came on the same day of the Hogsmeade trip. Up until then, you had successfully put the whole thing out of your mind, but the letter in your hand pushed it back to the forefront. By the time the last class rolled around, it was all you could think about.

Luna could tell that you were distracted as you walked through the castle halls. “Are you still thinking about the dinner?” she asked.

You sighed. “Honestly, I’ve put it out of my mind for this long, but I know I can’t keep avoiding it.”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“A year ago, it wouldn’t have even been a choice. I would’ve jumped at the chance to attend, but now…”

“Things have changed,” Luna said.

“It isn’t fair, Loons. After the war, I thought things would get better, but there’s still so much shit to dredge through.”

“There’s always going to be shit to dredge through, Y/N. The good news is that you have people to tackle it with.”

“I think the people make it harder.”

“Because you care,” she said with a smile. “You don’t have to lead with your head all the time, you know. Sometimes it’s okay to let your heart call the shots.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “I feel like I’m in one of these cheesy muggle soap operas. What choice will Y/N make today?”

“Whatever you choose, I will support you. I already spoke with Harry and told him to keep an eye on you should you choose to go.”

“Did Theo put you up to this?”

She shook her head. “We’ve had…conversations about it. I’m perfectly aware that Theo has strong opinions on the matter, but Pans and I would be glad to give him a stern talking to on your behalf.”

“I appreciate it, Loons. You know, I wasn’t sure about Parkinson at first, but I think she’s quite good for you. Terrifying, but good.”

You truly meant it. Over the past few weeks, you had gotten to know Pansy and the rest of the Slytherin gang quite well. Mostly because they seemed to follow Parkinson around like lost puppies, which was amusing in and of itself. Regardless, you had grown fond of the little terrors.

“My girlfriend in a nutshell.” Luna’s serene smile turned serious as she touched your arm. “I know I’ve been busy with Pans lately, but I want you to know that I’m always here for you, Y/N. You know you can talk to me about anything.”

You smiled and squeezed her hand. “I know, Loons. You’re a great friend. Even though you adopted five bumbling idiots without my consent.”

She chuckled. “Oh, I only brought four into the fold. One of them was already yours to begin with.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Speaking of which, what is the situation between you and Theodore? Pans will not stop pestering me about it.”

“We’re…friends.”

“Friends who sneak into each other’s dorms at all hours of the night, take strolls together in the Forbidden Forest, and stargaze at the Astronomy Tower. That kind of friend?”

You flushed. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m not judging,” Luna declared. “I happen to think that you two are adorable together.”

“Who’s adorable together?” asked the obnoxious voice of none other than Mattheo Riddle.

The boys were huddled by the castle entrance, dressed in comfortable layers. The last week of October had brought chill and frost, but snow had yet to make an appearance.

“You and the sound of silence,” you retorted with a smile.

Theo, Blaise, and Draco tried and failed to suppress their laughter. Enzo bit back a smile, which fooled absolutely no one. Pansy just sighed exasperatedly.

“Do you see?” Mattheo cried. “She’s always so mean to me.”

Theo draped an arm over your shoulder. He was dressed in a green and silver striped sweater with a pair of casual jeans and slightly scuffed trainers. The ensemble resembled something that the boys back home might’ve worn, but for some reason it looked a thousand times better on Theo.

“Don’t worry, mate. She’s mean to everyone.”

“Not to me,” Enzo said proudly.

You grinned. Out of all the boys, you admittedly had a soft spot for Berkshire. He always had a stash of treats from Honeydukes to share during your study sessions and was just genuinely nice to everyone no matter what house they were in.

“Obviously Enzo’s my favorite.”

“That’s not fair,” Draco complained. “He bribes you with fudge.”

“Better step it up then, Malfoy.”

“Honestly, I’m offended,” Blaise said rather dramatically. “I shared my expensive face creams with you, Y/N. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“And it was a very special night, Zabini. But you can’t beat chocolate.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Let’s go before you lot derail this whole trip with your madness.”

“Coming, mum,” you said brightly.

Parkinson glared at you, but it was short-lived given Luna’s giggle. The blonde took Pansy by the hand and your comment was all but forgotten.

As always, the charming village of Hogsmeade was littered with your fellow students. High Street was decorated for All Hallow’s Eve, complete with enchanted pumpkins, floating cauldrons, and charmed skeletons that popped up to frighten the witches and wizards strolling through the busy shops.

The group entered Gladrags first. The boys, with the exception of Draco and Blaise, immediately occupied the benches towards the front of the clothing store. You took advantage of the peace and quiet and perused the rows and rows of rich robes, quirky hats, and crazy patterned socks. Though you preferred the simplicity of muggle clothing, you had to admit that the wizarding world offered some interesting choices in attire.

After half an hour, your group walked out with nearly half the store. The Slytherins took the phrase ‘shop until you drop’ into a whole other level. The purchases that Pansy, Blaise, and Draco were so heavy that it had to be carted off back to the castle.

You visited Dervish and Banges in which the boys spent an exorbitant amount of galleons on quidditch equipment. The group then made its way to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes where Mattheo almost lost a finger faffing around with a nose-biting teacup. Draco and Blaise stayed behind to wait for Mattheo and Enzo to ensure that they made it to dinner with all of their appendages intact, while Pansy and Luna popped into Madam Puddifoot’s for some chamomile tea, leaving you and Theo to explore Scrivenshaft’s on your own.

“You didn’t have to come with,” you said as you examined the new stock of stationary. “I’m sure watching the Weasley twins hustle Riddle out of his money is much more entertaining than looking at boring old quills.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind. Besides, Mattheo’s a big boy. He can handle himself.”

You snorted as you picked up a quick writing quill. “Oh, I don’t know. Riddle might need his knight in shining armor to rescue him from those villainous redheads.”

Theo smirked. “You think I’m a knight in shining armor?”

“Hmmm…” you cocked your head and examined him. “You’re more like the sarcastic sidekick, I think.”

“I’ll remember that, Y/N.”

“Add it to the list,” you said with a sly smile. “I’m sure you’ve got a running tally on the countless times I’ve bruised your fragile ego.”

Theo clutched his heart. “Mattheo’s right. You are mean.”

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”

His lips curved up into a dangerous smirk. Theo leaned over you, bracing one arm against the shelf behind you to cage you in. “Oh, I do, but I enjoy fucking the attitude right out of you even more.” You swallowed thickly, backing into the bookshelf. Theo’s eyes flickered with amusement. “Not so feisty now, are we?”

You rolled your eyes and smacked him against his chest. “You’re an absolute pest, do you know that?”

“Add it to the list,” he responded cheekily.

The flirting and banter followed you all the way out of the stationary shop. You and Theo argued for ten minutes after he took the shopping bag out of your hands and carried it for you.

“I’m perfectly capable of toting my own things around, thank you very much.”

He shrugged. “A gentleman never lets a lady carry her own bags.”

“I wasn’t aware you were a gentleman.”

“Only when I want to be,” Theo said. “You should take advantage of it. You never know when it’ll happen again.”

You rolled your eyes, tugging at the bag in his hands. “Give me back my bag, Theodore.”

“Drop it or I’ll haul you over my shoulder and carry you around the village instead.”

“Fine, you win this round.”

Theo smiled triumphantly. “Y/N admitting defeat? This calls for a celebration. Honeydukes it is.”

The candy shop smelled as magnificent as it always did. Rows and rows of rainbow colored treats greeted you in every direction. You felt as giddy as you had in first year when the trolley of succulent-looking sweets passed through the aisles of the Hogwarts Express. You picked out your favorites—cauldron cakes, nougat chunks, and pumpkin pasties.

Though the shop was packed to the brim, you moved easily among the aisles as Theo cleared the way. He quirked a brow at the mountain of sweets cradled in your arms, but said nothing as you marched up to the register.

“Will that be all, miss?” asked the kindly shopkeeper.

“And a batch of your freshly made fudge,” Theo requested. “Put it on my tab, Mrs. Flume.”

“Of course. Anything for you, Theodore.”

The shopkeeper disappeared at the back of the shop to fetch the fudge. You nudged Theo with your elbow.

“I can’t let you pay for all of this,” you hissed sharply.

“Of course you can. I’m disgustingly rich, remember?”

“I know, but it wouldn’t be right.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “You’ve put up with my friends for weeks on end. Consider this as payment.”

“This more than makes up for the debt. It’s not even equal at this point.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Half of this is for my benefit. Can’t have Berkshire beating me for that number one spot, can I?”

You chuckled. “Are you trying to bribe me, Theo?”

“That depends. Is it working?”

The mouth-watering scent of freshly made fudge hit you as Mrs. Flume handed Theo a large pink bag. Bribe or not, Theo was definitely on his way to dethrone Enzo as your favorite.

“You’ll spoil your dinner,” Theo said as you popped a square of fudge into your mouth. The chocolate dissolved on your tongue as you released a sigh of satisfaction.

“What are you, the chocolate police?”

“What’s a police?”

“They’re like aurors, but without wands.”

“Well, one could argue that the amount of sweets you’re about to consume is a threat to public safety.”

“Would you rather I be a threat to your safety instead?”

“I’d say you’re already doing a rather excellent job of that.”

You stuck your tongue out, but Theo didn’t seem to notice as he looked behind you. The bell chimed softly as you exited Honeydukes only to walk right into a winter wonderland. The cobblestone streets were as crowded as ever, but many stalled in their path to look up at the flecks of white falling from the sky. A gentle breeze sent a scatter of snowflakes to pile up in the storefronts, decorating High Street with glitter and wonder.

The first snowfall of the season certainly did not disappoint. You ran out into the street, catching snowflakes on your tongue while laughing giddily. Theo watched with a small smile as you twirled around, your blue and gold scarf blurring while you spun and spun underneath the clear, blue sky.

“Easy there,” he said, catching you around the waist before you could slip on a patch of ice. “I’ve never seen anyone get this excited over a bit of snow.”

“It’s the first snowfall of the season!” you exclaimed. Theo chuckled as you dragged him out of the busy streets, weaving through shoppers and villagers alike. You didn’t stop until you reached the end of the village. “Come on, you have to see the view.”

At the edge of the small, sleepy village, you could see the blanket of snow covering Hogsmeade. It made everything glitter as the sun disappeared over the horizon. You felt so happy that your heart could burst.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Snow dotted his mop of curly brown hair, the glittering flakes catching in his long lashes as he stared down at you. “Yeah,” he murmured, releasing a cloudy breath. “The most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

Theo’s gaze softened. He reached out and brushed the snowflakes off your bottom lip with his thumb. The nervous bob of his throat was so uncharacteristically earnest that you nearly did a double take.

“I want you to go to that dinner tomorrow night, Y/N.” His voice was soft and carried none of the argumentative tone that it usually did when you discussed Slughorn’s dinner. “I understand why you don’t want to and believe me, I wholeheartedly agree. But I’d never forgive myself if I stood in the way of the one thing you’ve been working for since first year.”

You sighed. “It’s not just you, Theo. It’s Pansy. Draco. Blaise. Enzo. Even Mattheo. I don’t want to support anything that alienates my—my…friends.”

Until this moment, you hadn’t realized how fond and protective you’ve grown for the Slytherins. Somewhere between quiet mornings sipping freshly brewed coffee with Pansy, game nights in Malfoy’s ridiculously huge dorm, studying with Enzo in the Great Hall, comparing skincare products and exchanging tips with Blaise, and even riling up Mattheo with your ridiculous arguments, the little group had stolen their way into your heart.

They were your friends and you would do anything for your friends.

“All of us think that you should go. After all, there’s nothing more Slytherin than turning something terrible into a golden opportunity. If you get that recommendation, you’d be the first muggleborn member of the M.E.S.P., so you have to go. Go and make your favorite serpents proud, Y/N.”

Warmth spread through your chest. You could tell that Theo felt strongly about this. That he truly and genuinely cared about what an opportunity like this meant for a muggleborn witch like yourself.

You found yourself nodding after a moment. “Fine, I’ll go but you have to let me eat another piece of fudge.”

Theo smiled and those charming dimples peeked out of each cheek. “Not a chance in hell, dolcezza.”

You groaned dramatically. “Is that all or are you going to start lecturing me on my irresponsible consumption of sweets again?”

Watercolor eyes flickered over you. “There is something else,” he said softly. “There’s something that I’ve been meaning to tell you, Y/N. I think you’ve already guessed by now but I—I think I’m—”

Before Theo could finish his sentence, a snowball hit him square in the chest. You yelped as a barrage of snow came raining down upon you. High up on the hill, Mattheo and Enzo skittered between the trees. Your would-be attackers laughed as they continued to hurl snowballs in your direction.

“You’re dead, mate!” Theo bellowed as he dragged you behind him. “You two are absolutely and positively dead.”

The two of you crouched behind a large rock. You peeked around the corner, trying to calculate your next steps. Pushing past whatever moment the boys had interrupted between you and Theo, you turned to your curly headed companion with a smile.

“I know that look,” Theo accused. “You have a plan, don’t you?”

“You still have those dung bombs from the twins?”

He nodded and handed over the array of goodies he purchased from the Weasleys. The plan came to fruition a few minutes later. Mattheo and Enzo were safe up on their high hill, but you and Theo were not about to let that deter you. He followed as you crept up the fortress, keeping guard as you palmed a snowball in your hand.

Mattheo spotted you first. He hurled snow at you, but you easily dodged his attack. When he left himself exposed, you flung the snowball with all your might. It hit him in the leg before exploding and drenching him with the stench of dung. Riddle nearly retched at the foul smell while Enzo doubled over in laughter.

Theo took advantage of the situation and hurled his own snowball at Enzo’s stomach. Within seconds, the stench worsened. The two boys threw their remaining snowballs on the ground and signaled their surrender.

“Dung bombs?” Riddle exclaimed as you came closer. “Nice touch, Notty boy.”

“Don’t look at me, mate. It was all Y/N.”

Mattheo’s eyes widened. Enzo burst into laughter. “Told you not to mess with her,” Berkshire said as he cast a scouring charm over the both of them.

“I’ve got to give it to you, Y/N.” Mattheo said with an impressed tone. “You’re more devious than I gave you credit for.”

“You have no idea what you just started, Riddle,” you declared with a triumphant smirk. “If i were you, I’d sleep with one eye open tonight.”

You flashed him the most evil smile you could muster before dusting yourself off and heading down the hill. The boys stared after you before following.

“I am genuinely afraid of her,” Mattheo murmured.

You didn’t have to turn around to know that Theo was smirking. “Now you know how I feel, mate.”

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#mattheo has such baby of the family energy and i love him for it #theo nott #theo nott fic #theo nott smut #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott imagine #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott smut #theodore nott imagine

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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months

Note

can i request 41 and 44 with Megumi please? maybe sunshine x grumpy type

thank youuuu

There you go. Sorry it took so long, I still hope you'll enjoy it though <3

Yuji's little sunshine sister with grumpy Megumi

Pairing: Megumi x Yuji's little sister

Word Count: 2,2k

Synopsis: Despite the fact that Megumi is the complete opposite of you, he can't help but secretely having a crush on you. It isn't until you get severely injured by Mahito that Megumi begins to realize it can't go on like this...

Warnings: language, Megumi being a grumpy cat, injury

You adore him. The way he walks, the way he talks, the way he carries himself with so much disinterest despite everyone knows how much he cares about others. Yes, Megumi Fushiguro is the complete opposite of your out-going, confident and sweet self.

„Hey Fushiguro, I was hoping to see you today!“ you shout towards him.

The second his eyes catch a glimpse of you, he feels lost again. God, why do you have to be so damn stunning, why do you never fail to make him blush?

His heart sinks. And why on earth do you have to be the little sister of his friend?

„Oh, I didn’t expect you here today “, Yuji speaks out next to him in surprise, wrapping his arms around you just like he always does.

„Yeah, the mission was over sooner than expected “, you explain briefly while letting yourself sink into his loving arms.

You really adore your big brother. Despite all the things you’ve been through together, he still wears the same soft smile on his face when seeing you, embracing you in a tight hug just the way you like it. Not even the fact that he’s the vessel of the king of curses can change that.

„I’m glad you’re okay! Hey, Fushiguro and I are on our way to the training field, would you like to join? “

You grin ear to ear at the black-haired boy next to your brother, excitement crawling up your veins. Even though you know you shouldn’t fall for the best friend of your brother, you fell head over heels with your heart first. There’s just something about him. Something that makes your heart skip a beat and breath get stuck in your throat. Even though you are like fire and rain, sun and moon, basically from different stars.

Maybe it is especially the fact that he is so different from you that drives you insane. After all opposites attract, right?

“Hey Megumi…”

His eyes dart towards you in annoyance, side-eyeing you up and down. That cheeky tone in your voice speaks volumes.

Slowly you lean towards him, face only inches away from his own. Fuck, why does he feel so weak suddenly? What is it that makes him stare right into your mesmerizing eyes? You must have put a spell on him.

“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and I together.”

He stares at you in disbelief, the way you smile at him while raising your eyebrows. Megumi’s heart almost beats out of his chest when you hold onto his biceps while laughing so heartfelt that he can’t help but admire you.

Despite all the cruel things you have seen, despite the fact that your big brother is the vessel of Sukuna, even though you yourself know the world of jujutsu well enough since being in your first year, you still laugh as brightly as a thousand stars. Maybe that’s it, the reason why Megumi always respected you. You just seem so unbothered, so easy to love.

Why on earth would someone like you fall for a guy like him?

“Are you really trying to flirt with me?”, he remarks dryly, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

But you don’t mind. Instead you put your arm around him once more, his skin shivering by your gentle touch.

In a world full of darkness, you seem to be the only light.

“Was my pickup line too cheesy? I couldn’t help myself, I love the way you look at me when I trifle with you.”

That smile. That gorgeous bright smile that could light a whole universe. How could he ever be mad at you when you look at him like that? But still, you’re standing next to your brother, Megumi’s very own friend. It would be wrong to chase after you, not to mention the fact that a guy like him could never pull a girl like you. No, he has to keep his composure. His hands clench into fists, glimpsing at you one last time before turning around and walking away.

This is senseless, this is completely stupid. Why the hell did he fall for the sister of his best friend? And why do you have to be such an angel? Maybe it’s better to distance himself from you, to finally get you out of his head. Yes, Megumi will never have a chance with you anyway.

“Hey, wait for us!”, Yuji shouts after him.

-the next mission-

It will be easy, they said. Just befriending with that boy and trying to move him to Jujutsu High, they said. It wasn’t difficult to like Junpei. In fact, you and your brother got so close to him that it felt like you’ve known the boy forever.

Little did you know he worked for the enemy. Little did you know he would be the reason you’ll lay on the cold hard ground, covered in your own blood with a body unable to move.

“(y/n), you need to hold on for me.”

Nanami Kento’s voice rings through your ear, words not making any sense in your tired mind. Everything is surrounded by scorching pain, your limbs feel like falling off. That man with the multiple scars…Who is he? Is he even human? No, impossible, he has to be a curse, a cursed spirit, the devil himself.

Blood rushes through your ears, foggy sight completely occupied by the blonde man who accompanied you and Yuji.

Yuji…He’s still giving his best, crushing curses over and over with his bare hands. But even he seems to get tired. Even for him time seems to run out.

“Help…him…”

Your voice isn’t more than a fade away whisper, almost too damped to hear for Nanami.

“Yuji, take care of her. I will take over here.”

“Alright, Nanamin!”

“Don’t call me that…”

“Hey, was a rough fight, huh?”

Your brother’s hand gently pulls strands of hair out of your bloody face. He hates to admit it, but you look absolutely horrible. Since joining Jujutsu High along with you, Yuji was always aware of the fact that something like this might happen, that you’ll get injured while giving your best. But seeing you like this with your leg that protrudes unnaturally and the pool of your very own blood that you are soaking in kills him from the inside.

It hits him like a wall. You could die right here right now.

“I will call help. Please stay with me, okay? I couldn’t afford to lose you. And Megumi too.”

“Megumi…”

You never got the chance to tell him how you really feel about it. No, not even a date, not even a lunch together, nothing. Oh, how much you longed for his touch, how much you loved it when he looked at you with his ocean eyes, how much you wished to touch his spiky hair at least once. But now…

You aren’t sure if this will happen.

“Can you…call him?”

Your request sounds so dumb in your very own mind, how stupid to think about confessing your feelings to Megumi Fushiguro when you are severely injured. But you can’t help yourself. Right now, this is all you have on your mind, all you are able to think about.

“Sure, I will ask if he’ll come around”, your big brother assures with a small smile.

And he came. With fast and rapid steps, eyes widen in thick horror when gazing down at your puny figure. Who the hell did this to you? You are a skilled jujutsu sorcerer, even Nanami and Yuji came with you.

“How did this happen?”, he breathes out, kneeling down next to you instantly.

No, please let this be a cruel joke. You look as if all life drained from your body, eyes barely open.

“So err…Is this a difficult mission?”

“Are you worried about me?”, you purred while bating your eyelashes.

“No way I’m hell, I’m just asking”, he barked back.

“Just a simple one, hope you don’t worry too much, ‘Gumi…”

“I’m not worried!”

He signs. Why did they send you instead of him? Because you do it so effortlessly, talking to other people and making them fall head over heels for you. Yes, you were perfect for this mission along with Yuji, a true sweetheart.

But why on earth did you have to get injured so badly?

“We need to get her out of here, the fight is still ongoing”, Ijichi speaks out behind him.

Megumi signs. He’s right, overthinking won’t help you. With a swift motion he picks you up, eager to not hurt you any further.

“Everything hurts…”, you press out.

“Please take care of her, Megumi. I know you can do that best”, Yuji speaks out.

“I will. I will…”

-at Jujutsu High-

It’s been a hell of a ride. You feel unconscious the second Megumi placed to in the car, just barely breathing. Shoko was right by your side, doing as good as she can, but even she can’t conjure.

So you’re laying here on a sick bed with needles puncturing your veins and bandages covering your body. But your smile never faded.

“Hey, I didn’t expect you here today”, you croak.

Since the incident, he visited you multiple times a day. Always greeted by the same sentence and your cheeky smile. But instead of a grumpy reply, he simply sits down next to you and admires your stitched-up face.

You were lucky enough to survive that day. Even Kento Nanami would have died if it wasn’t for Yuji and Sukuna. If Yuji wasn’t there, if that cursed spirit hit you just once more…

He shakes his head, trying to get the pictures of your dead body out of his head. No, he can’t imagine a life without you and your breath-taking smile in it. Even your dumb jokes, your cheesy pick-up lines, your strange sense of humour.

“I miss you.”

What? Your words catch him completely off guard. Why would you say something like that?

“What do you mean? I’m visiting you every day”, he replies.

“Yeah but you aren’t grumpy anymore. You don’t roll your eyes at my jokes, you don’t slap my hand away, you just don’t act like…Megumi anymore”, you try to explain.

Since he came to pick you up that day, Megumi’s attitude towards you completely changed. Instead of showing his usual reactions to your dumb jokes, he just sat there in silence, staring at you without saying anything in reply. And while you really appreciate his visits, you can’t help but miss his grumpy attitude. What happened? Why did he change so drastically?

“You mean more to me than I thought”, he suddenly blurts out.

Your eyes widen, heartbeat picking up in an instant. Although you always dreamed about Megumi liking you more than just a friend, you never thought about that possibility fully. After all, you are the little sister of his friend, ‘a pain in the ass’ like he always said. No, despite your huge crush on him, you never thought it would be more that a dream.

“You almost died, (y/n)…Damn, I fought so hard against this, I thought I could resist you for Yuji and myself but you…you are just perfect in every way and I can’t! I can’t life without you!”

His shaky and heavy breathing hangs between both of you in the otherwise silent room, your glossy eyes staring at him in disbelief. Did he really just say that?

“Is this really how you feel?”

“I know it’s wrong, I know I shouldn’t see more in you than the little sister of my friend, that you are out of my league…I mean look at you…”

“But I like you too”, you interrupt him, lifting yourself off the bed to meet eye to eye with him.

“I like you since joining Jujutsu High. I always thought you don’t like me like that.”

“I love you, (y/n)!”, he cries out suddenly.

“And it really took me almost dying for you to see that?”

“Shut up, you didn’t say anything yourself”, Megumi bites back.

“Yeah, you’re right…”

All your senses are directed towards him. That beautiful boy who swept you off your feet, completely occupying your mind since you joined Jujutsu High. You couldn’t care less about the fact that he is Yuji’s friend or that Megumi has a strange way of showing his affection. No, all you can think about is finally being able to rest your head against his chest, nose tingling by his delicious scent.

That boy with the spiky hair and grumpy attitude really loves you.

“Why are you looking at the window like that?”, Megumi questions, hands gently caressing your back.

“Just checking if it’s high enough to get a little injured…”, you explain briefly.

“Are you out of your fucking mind!?”

“Maybe then you’ll even ask me out on a date!”

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kalims · 2 years

Text

‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "i kinda wanna throw my phone across the room 'cause all I see are girls too good to be true"

jealousy, jealousy,

I reckon yuu has atleast some people admiring them for their 'heroic' acts for each dorms, ironically enough

characters. riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia, malleus.

includes. gn!reader, flowers aren't limited to girls.

cw. each has a student from their dorm/another liking reader, book 5 spoilers? kinda.

note. this was supposed to be for celebrating 4k and originally I had a fic that I was supposed to publish but I got really busy w/ school and stuff so I supposed I'll just drop this 😚 I'm also sick btw *cries

if someone asked you; "what do you think the students see you as?" you'd probably answer, "a wannabe I guess." technically you were sure that you were right about your guess. if there's anything that you'd know about a school that worships villians is that they'd hate someone whose the polar opposite.

which is you, with you basically 'saving' the dorm leaders and all. atleast the person in question didn't seem to pick at you for helping them and not going like 'I don't need your help.'

which is also why you're.. shocked to say the least when some random student you can't say that looks familiar hands you a bouquet of flowers, clearly flushing at your stare. you notice a white envelope tucked into the variety of flowers as well as a box of chocolates.

funnily enough you wondered if twisted wonderland celebrated valentines day on a different month.

albeit the possibly hundred other gazes from the other people. why'd they have to do this in the cafeteria exactly? it would've saved you the trouble if they did it on a more private scale.

you can only smile at them politely. honesty feeling a mixture of embarrassment and shyness cause you've never received such a bold confession yourself. "thank you?" you feel a little bad when they deflate at your short answer to their gifts but nevertheless pleased.

"you're welcome. I tried to pick out the flowers for someone as special as you but it can't compare." they absent-mindedly state. you can't hide the grin on your face, you just met this person and they're already flattering you. it feels nice to be appreciated.

kinda cringe but you take it back this person is really cool.

— riddle rosehearts

bystander number 1. who wants to collar that person by anger, along with jealousy then proceed to stomp away. riddle would actually do that but only when you're not around cause you'd probably not be too happy if he punishes your 'friend' and he wants you to see him as the 😇 reliable young lad everyone loves.

suddenly had the will to impress you and one upped everything the other person did. so they got a 49 on the magical analysis test? that's too bad, riddle got 50. get on his level. so they answer correctly only when called? well riddle's voluntarily raising his hand and getting them all correct. oh they can cook?

oh well. he can do everything else better else than cooking so it doesn't really matter. you'd be a fool to choose someone else over him. but he supposes its part of the charm, infatuatingly enough.

— leona kingscholar

bystander number 2 who either just doesn't care or is secretly really mad. knowing leona it's probably the latter because it's leona and if there's something he hates it's probably getting upped by some random person whom he's clearly better than. you must be really blind if you have the audacity to ramble about said person to him.

went really grumpy for the span of days to weeks. ruggie literally would do anything you ask if it meant that leona's gonna be to his old self, lazy sure but he didn't used to place this much work on him!

your fault or not you'd probably also get affected by his drastic change of attitude. bro literally ignored you as well as everyone else, reverting to his mean self but treating you with more bitterness. it's probably not your fault but he doesn't regret a thing because you actually look upset when he pays you no mind. so you do feel something for him 😒😏. flashbacks to kaeya

— azul ashengrotto

bystander number 3. who's borderlining between wanting to get depressed then crawl in his octo pot to cry and absolutely ruining everything this random cheap made. I mean, really? those aren't even your favorite flowers! where did they get them, at the nearest dollar store? if he were them he'd give you the most expensive flowers you'd ever lay your eyes on!

and that's what he does actually; literally showed up on your doorstep with a handsome smile and gave you the most prettiest flowers you've seen yet. consider yourself charmed! bro literally made you forget about that other person for days until you saw them like a month later which is kinda bizarre..

the twins don't let you know that azul put them up on a 'job' to keep em' away. but it does use for good blackmail material against the jealous octopus.

— kalim al asim

bystander number 4. legit doesn't get jealous. kalim literally is just happy that you have admirers like him because you deserve it! he'd be more upset if you didn't have admirers honestly. okay but lowkey though, he isn't trying to compete at all but you receive a large bouquet, definitely much grander than the one you received and a heartfelt letter tucked into it.

how was that person supposed to win you over when kalim does it better?? ok but this is like the jamil situation in book 5 LOL.

if he actually somehow gets jealous he feels bad because he knows he'll do it better ( not condescending /gen ) so he just resorts to trying to win your affection and forgets about not trying then completely overshadowed the other person's previous attempts. bro only spared a 'I feel bad' look then smiling again because yay! you like him better now :)

— vil schoenheit

bystander number 5. AKA, the one who knows he'll do better and actually does do it better ( condescending ). vil doesn't even bother doing anything cause he trusts you enough to make the.. correct, choice. you do know that he's one of the most sought off person in the world, right? you'd be a fool to not see that.

okay but maybe he is a little paranoid that you actually will choose them so he actually does put in effort..

I mean nearly everyone is scared terrified of rook right? what's one more person to the count? he totally does not purposely send out rook to stalk them so he can expose them on social media .. or make him stall them somewhere so he has the chance to whisk you away and you losing the ability to see them for this day.. oh well, it's better to just spend it with vil since you're free anyways..

— idia shroud

bystander number 6 who was there but actually not there..? physically not present but he was there, somehow.. *looks at camera in the far, FAR corner of the ceiling*. idia doesn't know whether to start crying because you actually looked happy with their CRINGE. confession.. the crying is a more intense period than azul's btw.

or.. actually there's no or, that's just what he's gonna do. close his electronic device, crawl into his bed and cry into his body pillow. fear not. little brother ortho to the rescue! ortho actually suggested destroying any evidence of a 'disappearance' if that poor soul just happened to not be present for years but idia quickly shot that idea down, he actually pondered on agreeing but no way he's gonna let them win by that!

hijacks all their phones, PC's, whatever other stuff so that it's completely off, no other person can fix it besides him. and he's definitely not gonna do that so the person ghosts you for weeks, so you get mad and ghost them irl.. wow his masterplan actually worked. no ortho pls don't force me to 'comfort' them..

— malleus draconia

bystander number 7 who genuinely doesn't see the appeal of this basic little b— human :). like? hello?? he's right here, open your eyes child of man. no need to tolerate the pathetic display they just did that doesn't live up to your very existence, they might as well compare you to gravel on the floor from how poor they executed their weird analogy.

he could legit go on and on about every single feature you have, your eyes, mouth, face, shape.. he would present you a microsoft presentation for it if you ask and it literally is godly description type of thing. you could finish listening to one of them and you'd be in TEARS ☠.

bros so sentimental. he thanks lilia for the advice of microsoft presentation because you now look completely convinced. malleus has the pride to spare the other person a smirk when your attention is fully on him :D.

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141goblin · 2 months

Text

Soft: Chapter two.

CW: Mention of body image, reader feels inferior to her best friend. Slightly suggestive.

A/N: Thank you for all the love on part one, i’m so glad people like my writing. It’s heavily self indulgent so it makes me very happy to know it resonates with people other than me🥰

—>Part one

After a little encouragement from Johnny and the rest of my martini, I find myself stood in front of the group of men and Amelia as her and Johnny both introduce me to his friends. I got a wink and a “Nice to meet you, lovely” from Gaz, a firm handshake and a “Pleasure” from Simon…

“And this is Price, our Captain.”

The wide man smiles warmly and gives me a nod.

“Pleasure to meet you, dove.”

I give him a sweet smile and something between and a nod and an awkward bow/curtsy. Why the fuck am I curtsying? Jesus christ, I need another drink already. I feel my cheeks heating up with embarrassment but luckily, no one mentions it. They either didn’t notice or decide not to mention it. Either way, I don’t care.

Everyone begins to engage in small talk, leaving me stood there in the awkward predicament of being part of the group, but not being part of the conversation. I feel so ridiculous and out of place, like a child that’s stood with a group of adults, unable to join in on their conversation. I pretend like I don’t care and politely excuse myself and walk towards the exit.

I walk outside and sit down on the stone bench, my feet already aching because of my stupid heels, the cold night air nipping at my skin that simultaneously feels too hot because of the amount of alcohol i’ve consumed.

I rummage around in my handbag and pull out my half-empty packet of cigs that I save for when I drink. I always insist that i’m not a smoker, yet the minute I get a few drinks in my system, i’m puffing away like a chimney, making my breath stink. I light up and inhale it deep, feeling the all too familiar burn in my lungs. The smoke curls up into the night air as I exhale, leaving a ribbon of grey in front of me.

I think back to Amelia and how effortlessly pretty she looks, how she’s able to command everyone’s attention just by walking into a room. She doesn’t have to worry about what she looks like 24/7, she doesn’t have to worry about meeting someone in person for the first time after talking on a dating app and feeling terrified of being rejected and being labelled a ‘catfish’ because they didn’t know I was fat from my pictures. I know it’s not her fault, I know that. But deep down, there’s a bitterness, right in the pit of my stomach. She’s gorgeous, she doesn’t have to even try. The bitterness festers and claws at my insides on nights like this, where i’m left alone to entertain myself while she’s off with Johnny or her other friends. I sound like a child, i’m fully aware of that, but still, I feel it. Deep down in my stomach, a dull ache for more, a longing, a yearning to be that girl. Just as i’m stewing in my own grumpiness and general bitterness, I hear the rumble of a deep voice behind me.

“You alright, dove?”

Normally, i’d make an effort to impress a man like him. He’s handsome, too fucking handsome for his own good. Normally, i’d stub out my cigarette and sit up straight to hide the rolls of my stomach that protrude when I sit comfortably. But right now, I don’t care.

“Fine, thanks.”

Clipped, short, blunt. A subtle hint for him to leave me alone. He either ignores it or is too stupid to pick up on it, because he sits down beside me. Thighs spread, one hand on his thigh, the other wrapped around a cigar.

“Not a fan of parties like this, I take it?”

I scoff and flick some ash off the end of my cigarette before taking another deep puff, letting it fill my lungs, the stench of tobacco creating a cloud around me.

“You could say that.”

He laughs, his broad shoulders shaking up and down, the sound rumbly and deep, settling into my bones. He raises his cigar to his lips and takes a drag, the brown cylinder hissing and glowing red at the tip as he sucks. His voice is thick with smoke when he speaks.

“Mm, I get it. Not for everyone.”

I’ve either had too much to drink, am at the end of my tether, or just feel way too comfortable with this man, because what comes next is an outburst, an angry rant.

“I mean, is it for anyone other than rich arseholes or people who have been dragged into it by those rich arseholes? Groups of people pretending to be something they’re not, just to impress each other. I don’t get it. Fucking ridiculous if you ask me. I’d much rather be curled up on my couch with a shit bottle of wine and a takeaway than be here but I couldn’t say no to Amelia. Pain in the arse…”

I expected him to defend the party, or make some excuse that it’s a chance for like-minded people to ‘network’ or some ridiculous bullshit. But, to my surprise, he just laughs again. A warm, rumbling sound that makes me want to press my ear to his chest. I huff and cross my arms over my chest, glaring out into the night, the grassy courtyard scattered with multiple bush-sculptures, or whatever they’re called.

“Feel better, dove?”

I huff and laugh and hum in response. He gives me a tap on the thigh and stands up.

“I’ll be inside, if you decide to stay. I hope your night gets better, dove.”

I give him my best attempt at a warm smile and then he disappears inside again. I take a deep breath and try to shake off the festering bitterness and grumpiness. I should be inside, with my best friend. I stand up, feeling the ache of my heels and walk back inside to the ballroom, putting on a happy face. I spot Amelia, Johnny, Gaz and Simon at a table towards the front so I make my way over. Amelia gives me a concerned look, a silent ask of ‘You okay?’ and I just nod, dismissing it. I’m not getting into it, not here, not now.

A waiter appears and places a blueberry martini in front of me, without me even having to ask and i’ve never been so grateful. I take a large, burning swig and turn to the group with feigned confidence.

“So, what’d I miss?”

Johnny turns to me without taking his eyes off the stage, where a few people are setting up a microphone and some speakers.

“The birthday boy is about to make his big speech. Should be a good one, better than last year.”

The lads share a few knowing laughs, like they’re all giggling over an inside joke, and i’m about to ask what’s funny when a familiar, gravelly voice talks through the microphone and out of the speakers.

“If I could just have your attention for a minute or two-“

Fuck. Sake.

“Just want to say a quick thank you to all of you for coming to celebrate my birthday with me tonight. It’s lovely to see see you all. I hope you all enjoy your night and make complete use of the bar. Behave yourselves”

If there was ever a time I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole, it’d be now. I went on a big, angry rant to the poor man minutes previously, completely ignorant to the fact that the entire reason this party is taking place is because it’s his fucking birthday. I’ve never felt more like a dickhead in all my life, and i’m certain my face is bright red. Price raises a glass and speaks again.

“To us rich arseholes, at least pretend to be on your best behaviour, eh? Here’s to a good night.”

He ends the speech echoing my previous words with a wink in my direction and I’ve never been more embarrassed in my entire life. I must’ve sounded like some entitled, bitchy woman who thinks she’s above rich, fancy parties. I knew i’d never have a chance with a man like him anyway, but now any flicker of hope there was has been completely stubbed out by my own angry words, fuelled by alcohol and bitterness towards being the ‘single, fat friend’.

I down the rest of my martini in an attempt to hide my beetroot-red face and embarrassment, despite the fact that my head is already a little fuzzy and clouded by the way i’ve been chugging blueberry martinis like my life depends on it. Luckily, no one notices my embarrassment and Price goes off to mingle with other people rather than coming back to our table, so I don’t have to confront him. I make a silent ‘thank-you’ to whoever is up there in the sky, whether it be god or some other deity.

The next few hours go by without any more embarrassments, thank god. I do my best to engage in small talk with the lads while simultaneously avoiding Price. I should apologise, I know that, but I doubt he wants to see me. Or hear my whining voice ever again. Why didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t he cut me off and tell me it was his fucking birthday to save me the embarrassment of going off on some pathetic rant about ‘rich arseholes’? Why am I such a fucking idiot?

I excuse myself from the group and go back to the bar to order another drink. Except this time, I order a glass of water along with my martini. Arguably the only good decision i’ve made all night. No, the only good decision i’ve made in a long time. I plop myself down on the same tiny barstool as a few hours previous and take a few swigs of water to try and sober up a little and cool myself down. My hair has gone from being up in a bun and cute-messy, to being free and wild, cascading down my back. I don’t even remember undoing it, but i’m past the point of caring. My face is flushed, my eyes are glassy and my lipstick is faded and the tiniest bit smudged. A whole mess.

I force my thoughts away from considering the mess i’ve become over the course of the night and I look over to Amelia and the group of lads. Before I even have time to register that Price has joined the group, my stomach drops. He’s looking right at me with a fucking smirk on his face. If I wasn’t so embarrassed I’d probably think it was the sexiest thing i’ve ever seen. My face immediately blushes scarlet and I discard the glass of water for my martini. If i’m gonna get through this night with any semblance of dignity, I won’t be doing it sober. I debate getting up and sucking up my pride to apologise for being such a bitch. But then, what if he just laughs in my face and everyone else sees how much of a whiny child I was? Yeah, better not do that.

Amelia seems to notice him staring right at me because in a matter of seconds, she’s following his gaze and then walking over to me, that determined look on her face. She knows somethings going on, and she will demand to know.

“Okay, what the fuck. Did you and birthday boy get it on in the toilets or something without me knowing?”

I scoff and roll my eyes, not meeting her gaze and pouring some more blueberry flavoured courage down my throat.

“Obviously not, Amelia.”

She shakes her head and sits on the stool next to me, determined to get to the bottom of my awkward behaviour.

“Okay, listen. Me and you are gonna get out of here and go back to your apartment with a bottle of your favourite shit wine and we can talk all about it. I can tell you’re not enjoying yourself and I wanna know what’s going on. Gimme five minutes, i’ll be back and then we’re leaving.”

Before I can argue and tell her it’s okay, she’s going back to the group of lads and giving Johnny a kiss goodbye. It’s times like these where i’m reminded why she’s my best friend. She can read my feelings without me having to say a word, and she does truly care about me, even if my stupid little brain tries to convince me otherwise.

I leave the rest of my martini and make my way outside to have a cigarette while I wait for her. It’s well into the night now and considerably colder, and i’m mentally cursing myself for not wearing a jacket. I pull out another cigarette from my handbag and take a deep, long drag. The same burn, the same stench, the same short-lived relief. Just as i’m about to exhale-

“Leaving so soon, dove?”

For fuck sake. Why does this man have to show up at the worst times?

“Afraid so.. Past my bedtime.”

Again, the man laughs. Now, I know i’ve had too much to drink because I feel the warm, rumbly sound deep in my core, between my thighs. I don’t turn around to look at him, I can’t face him. I think i’ll die of embarrassment if I do.

I feel the warmth of something get draped around my shoulders, and the scent of spices and smoke mixed with expensive cologne. I’ve been nothing but a bitch to this man and here he is being chivalrous and giving me his jacket. I say nothing, but i’m grateful for the warmth.

“Hm. Shame. I quite enjoyed that little rant of yours.”

He’s doing in on purpose, i’m sure of it. He’s giving subtle digs to make me feel like even more of an idiot. It’s now when I spin on my heels to face him. I need to apologise. Now or never.

“Listen, about that.-“

“No need to apologise, dove. I liked the honesty. Not often I find a soft, beautiful thing like you with such fire in her.”

Just like that, i’m rendered speechless. I was expecting him to brush me off or belittle me or even scold me. But no. He’s giving me compliments like it’s the most normal thing in the world. I’m stuttering and fumbling over my words when Amelia walks about and grabs my hand, seemingly oblivious to the situation and pulling me into an uber. I get in, still speechless and head spinning. Is my head spinning because of the countless martinis I guzzled or because of him? I don’t know, and I can’t figure it out.

Amelia and I make it back to my apartment as we immediately kick off our shoes and crack open a bottle of shit wine and immediately I feel comfortable, i’m in my own space, drinking my favourite cheap wine with my best friend. Not surrounded by people I don’t know In some huge fucking mansion.

Amelia sits on the other end of the couch, legs intertwined with mine as she sips on the wine and gives me an expectant look, waiting for me to fill her in on tonight’s details.

“So… I went outside for a smoke and Captain Guy followed and sat down next to me. He asked if I was enjoying myself and I said no and went on a big rant, talking about how the only people that enjoy parties like that are rich arseholes and blah blah blah…”

I conveniently leave out the part at the end where he gave me his jacket and called me ‘soft and beautiful’. Which reminds me, I still have his jacket. I make a mental note to give it Johnny so he can give it back to him at some point.

Amelia’s eyes widen and she laughs.

“No way! Is that why he started talking about ‘rich arseholes’ in his speech?”

I nod, my face contorted into shame and embarrassment. Of course, Amelia thinks this is hilarious and nearly chokes on her wine.

“I felt like such a prat. It was the poor man’s birthday and here I am, basically calling him a rich arsehole…”

Amelia’s laughter dies down and she gives me a sympathetic look and a pat on the thigh.

“Girl, don’t even worry. He thought it was funny. Seemed interested in you. Even asked what your name was.”

My eyes instantly widen at the prospect of a man like Price being interested in a woman like me. I’m not exactly everyones cup of tea, i’m a big girl, rough around the edges, basically a hot mess on a good day.

“He what?!”

Amelia sports a shit-eating grin and nods, like she’s satisfied with herself.

“I swear. He came back inside and started asking about you.”

My face blushes like a fucking idiot and I have to bury my face in my hands. Since when did I become the type to get flustered and giddy over a man? Especially a man i’ve met once, and once only. But damn, what a man he is. That voice, broad shoulders, strong arms, thick thighs, strong hips…

The topic of conversation changes away from Price to Johnny and part of me feels grateful, though his words are still bouncing around my head like the DVD symbol on a TV.

“Not often I find a soft, beautiful thing like you with such fire in her.”

They bounce around in my head for the rest of the night, from when Amelia and I tuck into a greasy kebab, to when we settle into bed a good two hours later… The words are echoing around in my skull when my phone buzzes on my nightstand. I’m instantly ripped from my fantasies about the nice man with the wide shoulders when my brain reminds me the notification is probably from my shit-bag of an ex-boyfriend. I roll my eyes and breathe deeply before grabbing my phone, mentally preparing to read more false apologies when i’m completely stopped in my tracks.

Unknown: Nice seeing you tonight, dove. Think you still have my jacket. -JP

JP. The P is for Price, that much is obvious. But J? I begin to wonder about what his first name is… Jack? Jacob? James?

My thumbs hover over the keyboard as I rack my brain to come up with some sort of coherent response. I don’t even question how he got my number, i’m too busy focusing on the fact that he even texted me to begin with, and is calling me ‘Dove’. My stomach swirls. What do I say?

I put my phone down and decide i’ll reply in the morning when the alcohol is out of my system and i’ve had enough time to formulate a response that doesn’t make me sound like an absolute idiot. Until then, his words and text bounce against the corners of my skull, well into the hours of the morning.

#call of duty #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #fanfic #captain john price #captain price #plus sized reader

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marveldcmistress · 7 months

Text

Heartbreak Amongst the Harem

A/N: It's here! Thank you to @just-ten-cents for the encouragement and beta writing for me! And like most of my writing, this is purely self-serving. Based off a dream I had about Mikey, but I threw is the other three just for spice and giggles. Enjoy!

Summary: Reader is in a poly relationship, and everything was going great, until a lack of communication and people's hurt feelings cause some loyalty issues.

Pairings: Mike (Hellraiser) x Plus Size!Reader, Captain Syverson x Plus Sized!Readaer, August Walker x Plus Sized!Reader, Walter Marshall x Plus Sized!Reader

Trigger Warnings: cheating, reverse harem, cussing, physical violence/threats of physical violence, hints and innuendos of smut, drinking and smoking, if there's anymore just let me know.

If someone would have told you a year ago you would be in a relationship with four men, who are more than happy to share you, you would have laughed in their face. It was a wonder even one out of the three older men took a second glance at you, let alone all three wanting you. You were less surprised about Mikey though. You were fully aware that he was a whore. He almost bragged about it when he could come in during your shifts at the bar.

All four had been customers at some point or other. Sy, Walter, and August had all grown up together. Despite being fourth cousins, twice removed, or however they tried to explain it to you, they grew up in tight knit families. Eventually, Sy went into the military, August was hired into the CIA and Walter went off to college and became a cop. But as life goes, it brought them back together when Sy retired, August chose to leave the CIA, and Walter offered to move them into his house to fill the void Faye left when she went to college.

Sy had started his own dog training business while August became a personal trainer for the police academy. Months after though was when Sy got the call from one of their other cousin’s, Liza. Liza had gotten pregnant at 17 and raised Mikey mostly on her own. When Mikey had gotten into college in the same city, she had practically BEGGED Sy and Walter to let him live with them so he would stay out of trouble. And it worked, for the most part. There had been a few times where some of Mikey’s flings had shown up to the house because he had ghosted them and they couldn’t handle it, but Walter had that straightened out pretty quickly.

The first time you met them, they had all come in for Mikey’s 22nd birthday, only wanting a couple drinks and some wings before going home for work the next morning. You were behind the bar, busting ass alone and looking fantastic while doing it. Sy and August had shared a look. It wasn’t uncommon for them to share a woman during their usual one night stands. Walter had rolled his eyes and shook his head. One day these three were going to get him killed. Despite his thought process though, he could agree that you were an attractive woman. All four men were flirting with you all night, causing a blush to cover not only your cheeks, but spread all the way down your neck and across your chest, much to their delight.

It went on that way for months, sometimes they would come in individually, just two or three of them, or as the whole group. Sometimes it was deep conversation about the darkness they had seen in the world, the battle of darkness inside of them, and the anger at the universe they held for making them go through that darkness alone. Everytime though they would flirt with you. Eventually, you fell in love with them.

Sy was the perfect southern gentleman, funny and sweet and respectful. He always told the worst dad jokes. August was snarky and sarcastic, but he called you Kitten and it just made you weak in the knees. Walter was grumpy and brooding, but the intellectual conversations you would have stimulated you mentally, which stimulated you sexually as well. He could also appreciate any insight you could provide from what little he could tell you about his cases.

And last but not least, Mikey. He had gotten the nickname Baby from you because of his baby face. He was like a puppy dog to you. It had taken some convincing from Mikey and the others for you to give him a chance. It was unconventional, but it worked for the five of you. Sy and August were your makeshift bouncers when your boss fired the last one you had without having someone to replace him and they never interfered with your job unless it was a risk to your safety. Sometimes when flirting with customers for tips they would get carried away, but that’s not the point.

Everything was going great, until you got that text that shattered everything. It had been a beautiful summer day in the middle of July. Sy had taken you and Walter on a trip for the weekend in between cases. The cabin on the lake was beautiful, lush green grass surrounding you, trees thick and abundant. Sy and Walter were on the docks fishing while you were sitting on the porch drinking a glass of moscato. August had appointments for a personal training business he had just started and Mikey had opted out, spouting something about having summer classes he had homework for. It struck you as odd, he hadn’t told you about taking summer classes before, but you shook it off and decided to have a good trip with the two lovers you had with you. There was no cell service out here so you had to entertain yourself.

After your much needed break with your boys, filled with sex and rest, it was back to business as usual. Walter had once asked you to move in, to which you had told him it was too soon. You would love to move in one day, when your relationship with all four men was at a more permanent standing. It wasn’t that you didn’t see a future with them, but you were still unsure as to how this poly situation would work long term. But that was a discussion for another day.

It was a week after your trip and you were hustling behind the bar, flipping bottles and slinging drinks. It was an extra busy Saturday night, the band being extremely popular amongst the local community. Sy and August were standing at the very end of the bar by the door, two sets of military trained eyes scoping every part of the crowded room. You’re so busy you don’t have time to check your phone when you see a notification from Mikey light your phone up.

It wasn’t until after the last customer had left and you finished all of your side work did you look at your phone. Sy was walking behind you to his truck, his hand in your back pocket. August had left after last call, saying he was gonna set up your nightly routine at home so it was ready when you got there. Your boys always treated you so well.

You unlock your phone and click on the notification. You weren’t surprised to see he had sent you a video, as Mikey had an obsession with TikToK and liked to share what he thought you would enjoy. As you wait for the video to load, Sy helps you climb into his truck, his hands pushing you by the ass into the seat, pinching just under the cheeks before you sit down.

“Ow, Sy!” you yelp. He just chuckles, vibrations coming from deep in his chest.

“Can’t help it, Sugar. It’s just so juicy,” he says as he sends you his signature failed wink, making you laugh as you call him an asshole. You had almost forgotten your phone in your hand until the video started playing. You watch, confused at first as to why you see your ex-coworker MaKenna on the screen. But the longer the video goes on, the worse it gets. She’s half naked, completely bare from the bottom down and bouncing on someone’s……. And then you see his face and your blood starts to boil.

It’s Mikey, under your ex-coworker, letting her ride reverse cowgirl. His hands are on her hips and his hips are meeting hers and you’re gonna get sick. MaKenna wasn’t exactly a bad coworker or person, you knew she was promiscuous, and you didn’t judge her for it. But she knew you and Mikey were together. And though it was an unconventional relationship you had with him and his cousins, you were big on loyalty and each man had pledged their loyalty only to you. So for him to have done this to you broke you on the inside.

Just as they start to get louder, tears start to burn in your eyes. Sy catches on to the noise coming from your phone and looks over the console to your phone. The second he recognizes his little cousin’s face, he’s pissed. He knew Mikey had been a slut, but it seems he needs to teach the little prick a lesson about messing around on the woman you promised to only give certain affections and attentions to.

“That little fucker. I’m gonna beat his ass.” he mumbles, starting to tear out of the parking lot and speed towards home. You ignore him, locking your phone and wiping the tears out of your eyes. You had confided in all four that you had been cheated on before, and all of them had worked hard to earn your trust. You never thought one of them would do something like this to you. Before you could stop it, a sob burst from your chest and out of your mouth. That’s when the dam really broke and you started crying uncontrollably.

“Oh baby. I’m sorry, I know it hurts. I’m gonna get you home and August and I are gonna take good care of ya. And then we’re gonna hunt down that little prick and kick his ass real good.” He reaches across the console to wipe the tears from your eyes before wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his side. It’s uncomfortable, the console digging into your ribs, but you appreciate his attempt to love on you.

You pull into the driveway ten minutes later. Sy doesn’t even give you a chance to get out on your own, opening your door and wrapping his arms around your waist and carrying you inside the house. August had heard you pull in and met you at the door, one brow lifted in question. Then he saw your red, puffy eyes and his ocean eyes turned murderous. You simply just unlocked your phone and handed it to him, Sy walking away to let him watch the video without hurting you even further.

“What the actual fuck?!”

“I’m already planning to kick his ass so get in line. But right now she is my main priority,” Sy hollers behind his back. Normally you would admonish him for talking about you in front of you like you weren’t even there, but you were too busy trying to keep air in your lungs to really care about telling him off. Your chest hurt and your eyes stung and it just felt like your world had come crashing down. You knew you would owe Sy big time when this was over. August too.

Sy had carried you into the master bathroom where August had set up a bubble bath with candles and snacks. He had taken to spoiling you after your long shifts. You had found out very quickly he was dominant and took his duties as a dom seriously, and that included pampering you with only the best. Most weekend evenings/mornings after your shifts at the bar include a hot bubble bath with your favorite wine, snacks, and a good foot rub. That is usually followed by a full body massage with your favorite lotion. If you happened to stay awake during the massage, you’d then get the best dick down to finish you off and send you to sleep more than satisfied.

“Baby doll?” Sy’s voice pulls you out of whatever trance you were in. You look up into his eyes, before looking over his shoulder to August’s concerned gaze. You hate the pity you see in both of their eyes, hate knowing they are looking at you in such a vulnerable state.

“Do you want us to help you, Kitten?” August asks. You don’t know what you want. You want them there for comfort, as that’s what partners are for. You want the floor to open you up and swallow you whole. You want to forget that Mikey even exists and that you ever met him. You don’t know…..

August must see it on your face because he moves to the tub and takes the plug out to let the water drain. He then swiftly moves to the shower and turns it on as hot as you can stand it. Sy slowly starts to ease your shirt up and over your head, before moving to your jeans. You know there is nothing sexual motivating his actions, but you can’t help but bring your arms up to cover yourself. Sy squats down to his knees to help you take off your pants, and August moves to leave a kiss on your forehead before pulling out his phone and walking out of the room.

Sy moves you bodily to the shower, helping you slip in before telling you he’ll be in the other room when you get out.. You see him set out a towel and fresh clothes from Walter’s closet before leaving the bathroom. The sound of the door clicking shut resonates in the silent room. The only noise being the shower water hitting the tiled floor and your quiet sobbing. You slide to sit on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest and burying your head.

You felt ridiculous. Part of the reason you had been so hesitant to even consider adding Mikey to your little group was his history with women. All four men were open about how he treated his flings when he was done with them. You were also concerned about his age. You didn’t normally go for guys around your age, and especially younger. Three years wasn’t much of a gap physically, but maturity wise had been a big red flag to you.

Eventually you had cried yourself dry and the water had turned cold. You stood up, shutting off the water. You hadn’t even had the shower door fully open before Walter burst in the bathroom. You wanted to cover yourself, but he didn’t give you the chance. Before you could blink, he had you wrapped in his big arms, the wool of his sweater scratching against your bare skin. He sways you back and forth and you’re bombarded with the memory of him telling you this is how he used to get Faye to sleep when she was a baby.

“I’m so sorry, baby. August called me and I rushed right over.” he slowly releases you when he remembers you’re fully naked. He moves back to the toilet where he gets the towel and wraps it around you. You want to argue that you can dry and dress yourself, but the energy just doesn’t seem to be there. Once he’s satisfied that you've dried off enough, he pulls one of his softer sweaters over your head, lifting your arms and slotting them into the sleeves. He kneels with a pair of boxers in hand, lifting each foot and sliding the shorts up your legs. He makes a show of bringing them up over your ass, and you give him a small smile. All three of these beautiful men, trying to make you feel better. How did you get so lucky?

When Walter is happy that you are finally ready for bed, he scoops you up by the thighs and carried you into the bedroom. You see Sy already laying in bed, shirtless but wearing pajama bottoms. You hear August in the kitchen, assuming he’s putting away the snacks he had planned for your nightly routine. Walter lays you in the middle of the California King sized bed, right next to Sy, before moving to the closet to change into pajamas while Sy turns and snuggles into your side, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and ribs.

“I know this probably won’t mean much, but he doesn’t deserve you, Sugar.” Sy mumbles into your chest. Even now, you can’t help but find amusement in his obsession with your tits. His favorite pillows, he once said.

“Thanks, Sy.” you mumble. You feel the bed dip beside you, turning to find Walter getting in on your right side. He’s also shirtless only wearing pajama bottoms, and the fuzz on his chest is thicker than the others.

“He’s right, Love. You are an incredible woman, and it’s Michael’s loss if he can’t see that.” his voice rumbles through your whole body. They’re both so warm, so soft. You internally chuckle at the contradiction. All four of them had godlike bodies, firm muscles and virile masculine strength. You lose your amusement as you think of Mikey again.

You look up as August walks in, dressed just as the other two. You were prepared for the nightly argument of who was going to cuddle with you and how. When it came to sex, these men worked together like a well oiled machine, each one moving perfectly in sync with the other to bring you the highest heights of pleasure. But when it came to cuddles, they fought over you like children with a teddy bear. But none of that happened. With Sy on his side to your left, Walter on his side to your right, and you on your back in the middle, August made his way between your legs and laid right on top of you. His torso was half on top of you, with his head on your sternum right below your breasts, half on the bed between your thighs, and the rest of his body between your spread calves.

“I feel like I’m in a puppy pile,” you mutter, causing all three men to chuckle. They quiet quickly though, all three concluding you’re trying to hide your pain through humor. Three sets of arms squeeze you tightly, and you soak up the love radiating from the three beautiful souls surrounding you. Maybe this heartbreak will be easier to get over when you have three other boyfriends to take care of you. Soon, the snoring coming from Sy, the soothing hand August has rubbing your thigh, and Walter playing with your hair, on top of all of the crying you’ve done, lulls you into a deep sleep.

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

When you wake up, the sun is shining through the windows. You’re used to the sun being high in the sky when you wake up, but never have you woken up with one of the guys, aside from Mikey, still in bed with you. Sy was never one to sleep much, years of military training now just ingrained into who he is as a human being. August was usually at the gym, and Walter would be on a case. So it shocked you to still have Walter by your side. You look up to his face and find he is watching you. You should have figured he wouldn’t have been asleep.

“How long have you been up?” you ask, voice hoarse from sleep. Your throat hurt from crying so much last night, and your head was throbbing. Despite having slept deeply for a decent amount of time, you were still exhausted. Your eyes burned and your body felt heavy.

“A few hours. I was up for a bit, but I didn’t want you to wake up alone.” he whispers. You always wondered how he always knew what you needed, even if it was something as small as keeping his voice low because your head hurts, when you didn’t even tell him.

“Thanks, babe. Where’s the other two?” you look around. You can hear someone working around in the kitchen. The smells of bacon and eggs finally hits your senses and your stomach grumbles. You silently wished Walter hadn’t heard. Out of the four, well now three, he was the most anal about making sure you ate enough and stayed hydrated. You look up and there it is, the pointed look he gives you everytime.

“Love, did you eat last night?” You look down in shame. You had a horrible habit of getting so caught up at work you forget to order food from the kitchen before it closes.

“You see, what had happened was..” you start. Walter rolls his eyes and huffs, beginning to roll away from you. You pull him back in protest.

“Listen to me! I didn’t have the chance to eat because I had to get the bar put together because Katie had to leave early and then we got slammed and Sheri couldn’t keep up with her tables so they kept coming up to the bar and then we just, didn’t slow down until after close, so Sy and I were going to go get something to eat and then….” you trail off, your brain bringing up the awful memory of what your….. You’re not even sure what to call Mikey. Walter notices where your mind seems to go and quickly put his hand under your chin and raises your eyes to his.

“Sy is making breakfast,” he starts.

“Fuck yeah,” you mumble. Sy was the best cook in the entire group, and his breakfast was fire. Walter rolls his eyes at that.

“And August went to the gym. Grumbling something about still being pissed off.” That last bit of information didn’t surprise you at all. August was crazy, as you had seen one night when a customer had gotten too handsy and decided to fight Auggie when he tried to throw him out. You were not ashamed to admit it made you so horny that you jumped him in the car at the end of your shift. It may have also revealed just how toxic you could be at times to the entire group. None of them seemed to mind though.

Just then, Sy came into the bedroom, carrying a tray full of food. You see french toast and biscuits and gravy, eggs, bacon, ham, fruit. All of your favorite breakfast foods. God you love these men. Sy sees you eyeing the tray and raises his eyebrows suggestively.

“Well good morning to you too, Sugar. You sleep alright?” He kisses your forehead while balancing the tray in his hand. You soak up the affection, staring at him as he brings the tray to sit in your lap. You pick up a fork and dig in, almost inhaling the fruit and french toast, feeding bites to each man beside you. It was almost perfect, until you heard the front door open and Mikey’s voice rings through the house. Your hand tightens around your fork and Walter is quick enough to move the tray off your lap as Sy flies off the bed and out of the room. You both quickly follow him, knowing deep down you wouldn’t be able to keep Sy from kicking his ass.

You stand at the top of the stairs and watch as Sy barrels towards Mikey, shoving him against the wall and holding him up by the front of the shirt. Walter moves you to the side, coming to stand on the steps in front of you but not shielding you from watching what was happening. Mikey’s eyes go wide and his hands go up at his sides.

“Woah, woah, woah. Easy, big guy. Good morning to you, too.” It wasn’t unusual for Sy and Mikey to wrestle in the house. But the look on Sy’s face told Mikey this was anything but playful.

“How was your studying session, Mike?” Sy snarls. His voice sent shivers down your spine. You almost feel sorry for anyone who had to go against your Captain. It was joked once that he was a bull, once he sees red there’s no running from him.

“It was fine. What is your problem, man?’ Mike stutters. That just seems to piss Sy off even more because he removes one hand and pulls it back before punching Mike in the stomach. The younger man doubles over before Sy lifts him back into a standing position. Part of you wants to step in. Yes Mike hurt you, but you don’t usually condone physical violence unless absolutely necessary. But on the other hand, Karma is a bitch, and he’s had more than enough coming his way.

“Now, you wanna try that again?” Sy growls. Mikey looks up to you, and your heart breaks all over again. You see the moment it clicks in his head, and shame fills his eyes.

“Sweetcheeks…” he tries. Sy shakes him hard.

“You don’t get to speak to her. You’re lucky August isn’t here because he wouldn’t be as easy on you as I am right now. I thought we had a clear understanding on what this relationship meant to her, and now you’ve set all of us back. She’s going to shut herself off and we’ll have to work double to get her trust back. Fucking idiot.” Sy pushes him harder into the wall before dropping him not so gently to the floor. You move past Walter and make your way down the stairs. You put a hand on Sy’s shoulder and he looks at you. You can hear his thoughts as loud as if he said them out loud; ‘you don’t have to do this’.

Mikey stands up and looks at you, flashing his puppy dog eyes and pouty lips. Normally it would melt your heart, but right now it just turns it to stone. You wonder how you would be responding if you didn’t have the strength of the two men behind you.

“Taking summer classes, huh? Does the name MaKenna ring a bell?” you seethe. You had once confided in how insecure she made you feel. She was your height but very petite. You had noted how her breasts were the perfect size that they just stayed perky, making you self-conscious of your larger chest that hangs low. Not that you didn’t love your body, but loving yourself is a long, bumpy road.

“Babycakes,” Mikey tries again.

“What did Sy say? You don’t have the privilege of speaking to me. Ya know, Mikey, it took a lot of convincing from your cousins to even get me to consider giving you a chance, based off your history with women. I knew from the get go this was going to end badly but I had that littlest bit of hope that I was wrong. I can’t even stand looking at you right now.” you say, turning away from him. You move but before you get too far, he reaches out and grabs your arm. You spin quickly, and before anyone can blink you slap him. Hard as fuck. Your palm stings and his face immediately turns red. You turn and run before he can see you start to cry.

“Great contact, Sugar.” Sy mumbles as you rush past him, giving Mikey one last hard look before following you upstairs. Walter, who had been silent during this entire altercation, finally looked at Mike.

“I’m not going to discuss any of this with you, right now. I’m more disappointed than angry,” he starts. Mikey rolls his eyes.

“No offense, Walt, but I don’t need the dad lecture at the moment,” he says sarcastically. That’s what finally set the normally stoic detective off.

“Obviously you do! Maybe if that piece of shit father of yours would have stuck around you would have turned out better.” That fucking stung. Mikey had taken some time to open up about his dad bailing on him and his mom. He blamed himself for a long time, something you strived to help him heal.

“But he didn’t, so now it is up to myself and the other two to teach you something about being a man. I understand that before her you made no commitments to the women you took to your bed. But when you actually make a promise to someone you don’t break it like that. I’m going to ask you once to leave. Take a few days at a friend’s while we discuss how we want to proceed from here.”

Mikey went to protest but the look on Walter’s face killed the argument before it could leave his mouth. He knew he fucked up, and he hears his mother’s voice in his head telling him to face the consequences of his decisions.

“Can I at least grab some stuff before I go?” he mumbles. Walter nods but says nothing else. He watches as Mikey gathers some things before moving towards the front door. He pauses before opening the door, turning back to the older man.

“I’m sorry, Walt.”

Walter shakes his head. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to. We all have some talking to do, but for right now let the dust settle. She needs to heal some from this. And before you start accusing me of choosing a woman over family, remember that you are the one in the wrong in this scenario.”

And with that Walter went upstairs, leaving Mike to walk out of the house with his tail between his legs. Just as he was getting to his car, August pulls up beside him. Mike barely has his door open before August is on him, throwing him up against his car.

“I should beat the fuck out of you right now.” he hisses. If Mike thought Sy was scary, August was terrifying. He remembered one night when they all had had way too much to drink and August went to a really dark place mentally, giving a recount of just how many people he had killed during his time working for the CIA. Mike knew just how skilled August was in the arts of torture, and the thought alone of what he could do to him almost made him piss himself.

“Listen, Sy has already given it to me and she left this beautiful hand print on my face, so give me a break, okay? You can come at me later when Walter lets me back in the house,” he grumbles. August locks in on that last bit of information.

“Walter kicked you out?”

“He said it’s just for a few days.” August nods.

“Well whatever you do, do NOT go back to that little bitch’s house. Find a GUY friend to stay with. And call your mother, before one of us does.”

Mikey should have known that was coming. All three of the older men were fiercely loyal to his mother, and never missed an opportunity to let her know when he did something stupid. But this was probably the worst thing he could’ve told her. He sighs and gets in his car, thinking of who he could call that would let him stay a few days.

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

August makes his way to the bedroom immediately upon walking into the house. He didn’t want to leave you this morning but he was still so pissed by what happened early this morning he knew it would do no one any good if he didn’t get it out of his system. So he went to the gym where he almost destroyed a punching bag and scared some staff members. One of his training buddies had finally had enough of him abusing the gym equipment and said something.

“Now what did the bag ever do to you?” Geralt asks. The man was taller than August with more muscle, but he had a more even temperament. August puts his hands down and huffs.

“I’m picturing Mikey’s face.” he growls. Geralt just raises a brow. August had talked about his little cousin and the relationship he had with the bartender. He’d been to the bar and wasn’t hesitant to admit he could understand the attraction. You were a beautiful woman, fiery and bubbly simultaneously. It was adorable.

“What did the little idiot do this time?” Geralt had come to calling him that after he had drunkenly picked up a rabid raccoon out of the dumpster and it bit him.

“He hooked up with MaKenna.” August says. Geralt pauses to rack his brain.

“The little redhead that worked there before she was fired for having sex in the parking lot during her shift?”

“That’s why they fired her?” August spins to face the larger man. You had said she was fired for employee misconduct and insubordination, but you never gave the specifics. “You know what, I’m not surprised.”

“That’s what I heard from the owner at a house party a week after that, I think. Doesn’t matter. How did you guys find out?”

“The stupid shit sent her a video of them fucking to her, in the same bath tub in the cabin Sy took her to last weekend.” August shakes his head. Little shit couldn’t have even been original.

“And he’s still breathing?” Geralt looks surprised.

“For now. But when I see him….” August’s hands curl into fists at his side and he almost starts shaking. Geralt gives a hum and then pats his back, turning to leave his friend to stew in his feelings and planning a nice phone call to the beautiful bartender with a broken heart at home.

Shaking the memory from his mind, August opens the bedroom door to see you curled into Sy’s chest, shoulders shaking but no noise coming from you. Only the vision of the bright hand print on Mikey’s face calms his rising anger. He hears Walter in the bathroom and the shower turning on. Sy finally notices him and makes eye contact. It was almost a telepathic conversation between the two men: our baby needs us.

August turns to his left as Walter walks in, steam following him from the running shower. Sy nudges you up with murmurs of needing to calm down. You grudgingly obey, make eye contact with August before quickly looking away and following them to the shower. August takes this chance to change the sheets, rolling his eyes when he sees the crumbs on the comforter. He’d told them time and again not to let you eat in bed, but they never listen. He’ll let it slide this time, given current circumstances.

After fixing the bed and taking the breakfast down to the kitchen, he starts on the dishes. You had expressed only once that it was your least favorite chore, and he had taken it upon himself to be the designated dishwasher of your group. Despite the shower running upstairs, the water was still scalding and he thanked Walter once again for finally caving and buying a new hot water heater and for Sy saving them money by installing it himself. The burning pain from the water distracted him from the heartbreak he felt coming from you. You always joked you had a radiating energy that affected those around you, but he didn’t think it was a joke.

When he first saw you, you shined so brightly you almost glowed. Your smile was like a beaming ray of sunlight, sending warmth straight through his heart. At first he thought he was dying, that you were an angel of some sort that had shown up to take him to his after life. But one look at Sy and Walter and he knew he wasn’t alone. Bringing you into their lives was like having eternal summer. And now Mikey had gone and shut your light off. He was lucky he was kicked out.

As soon as everything was dried and put away, August made his way upstairs where Sy was carrying you out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Walter followed behind with a brush and some lotion in hand. They met eyes for a moment before moving to sit beside you and Sy on the bed. Sy had you his lap sideways, rocking back and forth while you controlled your breathing. He let you cry in the shower until your breathing turned ragged and he recognized the onset of a panic attack setting in. Walter starts brushing your hair while August takes the lotion and starts rubbing your feet. Soon your breathing evens out and the sniffling quiets.

All three men watch you and you make eye contact with August. He gives you a small smile and brings your ankle up to his mouth for a kiss. His mustache tickles your skin and you pull it back with a small shriek. This causes all three men to chuckle.

“Are you okay, Kitten?” August mumbles. Walter and Sy turn to you pointedly. You hadn’t said anything to them since you ran away from Mikey. They knew you weren’t okay, but they needed you to open up to them so they could help.

“Not really.” you whisper. Your hand still stings from slapping Mikey, but even more so your chest hurts. It feels irrational to you. You have three gods in front of you, ready and willing to worship you, and you’re heartbroken over someone you knew was going to hurt you from the beginning. “I think I’m more pissed than anything. What if this ruins what we have? I don’t want to be here around him but that means I won’t be able to be with you guys as much.”

Sy burst out laughing. You look at him offended, only to catch the amusement on August’s face as well. You turn around to look at Walter and find him chuckling.

“What the fuck is so funny?” you almost yell. August rubs his hand along your naked thigh, bringing your attention down to him.

“Kitten, if you think we’re going to let that little twerp ruin one of the best things to happen to us, you must not hold us in too high of a regard.” he looks at you pointedly.

“Yeah, Sugar. You got me fucked up if you think I’m going to throw you away because of this. If anything, it’s Mikey that’s going in the trash.” Sy says with a smirk. You look at him tentatively, and he gives you his wink/blink. You give him a smile when you feel Walter kiss the top of your head. You look up to make eye contact with your furry lover.

“Besides, I kicked Mikey out,” he says. You immediately sit upright in Sy’s lap, scrambling to stand and look at Walter full on. You bring your hands to your hips, causing the towel to fall and you rush to catch it.

“What do you mean you kicked him out? Don’t cause issues with your family because of me, Walter, that’s crazy.” He just smiles at you. It isn’t fair how pretty he is, how pretty all three of them are. You shouldn’t be jealous because your boyfriends have prettier eyelashes than you do. He reaches for you, bringing you between his legs, spreading them wide to make room for your thick thighs.

“It’s only for a few days, Love. Give him some time to think about what he did and for all of us to cool down.”

“No promises on that last one,” August grumbles. Sy gives a hum of agreement.

“Regardless,” Walter starts, giving a pointed look to the other two men, “even if Michael is here, you still have every right to be in this house. Or we can start spending more time at your place. We can work around this, love.” He grabs your hands in his and brings you close to him. “We love you, Y/N.” he whispers. Tears start to fill your eyes.

“Yeah, Sugar. Sure, your apartment is small and crowded, and you have all those pretty rocks I’m too scared to touch,” Sy starts in, making you giggle.

“They’re called crystals, Sy.” you mumble.

“Whatever, they’re part of your little witchy shit and sets me on edge. But I wouldn’t be anywhere else, cause I love ya.”

“Aww you guys,” you say as the tears really start to flow. You look to August, waiting for him to take his turn to confess his feelings. He just rolls his eyes.

“All this sappy shit. Yes, I love you. This is probably the only time you’ll hear me say it out loud, so soak it up while you can,” he grumbles. You bend down and give him a kiss on his pouting lips.

“I love you, too.” you whisper as you move away from him.

“All of you. I didn’t want to get too close at the beginning because I didn’t want to have to choose between you three, but thank god you suggested this. I know I’m going to be a little down in the coming time, but I appreciate each of you and everything you do for me as a team and as individuals. I don’t know where I’d be without you guys.”

All three men wrap their arms around you like some kind of awkward python of arms and hair. You run one hand through Walter’s hair and the other down August’s back. Sy buries his face in your chest, and you send thanks to the divine universe for the beautiful men it has sent you.

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

Mikey pulls up to his friend Evan’s house, aware of the gloom cloud hanging above his head. He’d called him as soon as he pulled out of the driveway at Walter’s, giving as little details as possible as to why he needed a place to crash. Evan was a great friend, but he didn’t need any more judgment today. He was already dreading calling his mother. How was he going to explain to her that he cheated on his girlfriend that he was sharing with his three older cousins? Up until today he wasn’t even sure it WAS cheating. I mean, you had the other three, why couldn’t he fuck other people too?

But then a memory arises in his mind. It had only been a couple months since you had met him and the other three men, and you were freaking out in the cooler at work. It had taken him five minutes to get you calmed enough to tell him what had you in such a state. When you finally confessed that you had caught feelings for him and his cousins, and that you didn’t want to choose between them, he had the best idea. That night he mentioned a poly relationship to August and Sy, unknowing of his cousin’s history of sharing women. When he pitched the idea to Walter, the detective was reluctant. But it took one look at your face when they presented the idea to you to convince the bear to cave.

What Mikey wasn’t prepared for was the jealousy he would feel sometimes. It seemed some days that you treated him like he was still a kid, and the nickname Baby Face only made it worse. The way you talked to the older three like they hung the moon, and the way you let them dominate you. It emasculated him, you never let him top you. When he saw MaKenna at a party one night, and she started flirting with him, he felt good. She talked to him like he knew what he was doing, stroking his ego and he felt on top of the world.

Looking back now, he knows he fucked up. He wished he could blame the alcohol, but he knew deep down that wasn’t an excuse.When you agreed to the poly proposal, you had sat everyone down for a deep discussion on the rules of the relationship and how to operate the slippery slope of romance. You had pressed the seriousness of open communication. If anyone was having any issues, it needed to be talked over and worked out. He just couldn’t bring himself to tell you how he was feeling. And now he may have lost you forever.

He looks up from his steering wheel when he hears a tap on his window. Evan stands there, waving a hand to get his attention. He exits the car, avoiding Evan’s questioning gaze as he gathered his things and followed his friend into the house. He sets his bag on the couch, a deep sigh leaving his chest. He hears Evan say something but didn’t pay attention to his words. He sat down and reached into his bag for his computer when he noticed he had packed one of your shirts that must have gotten mixed in with his laundry somehow. He brings it up to his face and takes a whiff. It still smells like you even after going through the wash and he’s surprised to feel the tears burn his eyes.

That’s how Evan finds him when he walks back in from the kitchen with two beers in hand. Mikey wasn’t one to show much emotion outside of excitement and horniness, so to see him crying really threw his friend for a loop.

“Hey, man, you okay?” he sets the two bottles on the coffee table and moves to sit beside Mike. As an EMT he’s used to having to de-escalate a situation, but this was different somehow.

“I cheated on Y/N,” Mike gets out once he calms down. Evan raises his brows in surprise. He couldn’t lie and say he was shocked. He knew exactly the kind of guy Mike was and exactly the woman you were. He told Mike once that he thought he was too immature for someone like you. You were a grown ass woman, not the little girls Mikey liked to play around with. You had your shit together, a good job and your own place, paid your own bills and never really asked for nor needed help. He had expressed his concerns when Mike had told him you accepted his offer to be shared with his cousins. But alas, Mikey didn’t listen. It took all the willpower Evan had in him not to say ‘I told you so’.

“With who?” he whispered. Getting loud and angry would do his friend no good right now.

“That MaKenna chick, the one you met at the party that one time.” Evan racked his brain, shifting through faces and names. Mike had introduced him to plenty of chicks over the last two years of their friendship.

“Is she the little redhead that worked at the bar with Y/N? The one who got fired for fucking a customer on the clock?”

“Is that why they fired her?” Mikey looked up.

“Yeah, man. My brother was there that night, said she ran out of the bar screaming and cussing everyone out. She may have also been drinking on the job.” Fuck, he had alot of apologizing to do.

“Look, I’m your friend, and as your friend it’s my responsibility to tell you when you fucked up. And I love you, bro, but you’re fucking stupid. What was going through your head, man?”

Mike wanted to be offended, but somewhere deep inside he was glad to have a friend who called him out on his shit.

“I don’t know, man. We were at this party and I was drinking and Y/N has been so busy with work and caught up in the other guys that it just felt like I didn’t exist anymore, ya know? And then when we do have sex, she’s always in control. It made me feel….” he trailed off. Evan nods his head, encouraging him to continue.

“I just felt like she saw me as some little kid she could play with, and never took me as seriously as she did them. I wasn’t a man in her eyes. And then MaKenna showed up and I just didn’t think. Now I may have lost her for some community pussy.”

Evan laughed at the last sentence, fully aware the same could be said of Mikey.

“Listen. You stay here for a few days, let her calm down, and figure out your own shit while you’re at it. And maybe get some ice for your face cause brother, she left her mark.” Mikey reaches up and touches his still stinging cheek.

“Leave it, let it be my reminder that I’m an idiot.”

“If you say so, man. But it’s turning purple so better go find some make up at the drug store before people start asking if you’ve been abused.”

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

The next few days flew by in a blur. You’d had picked up extra shifts just to keep your mind focused on work and not Mikey. The three older men never really let you have a moment to yourself. If you were at work, they were sat at the very end of the bar. If you were at home, you had at least one wrapped around you and another lurking somewhere in the house. You didn’t mind, really. You had done enough crying over Mike. You, however, didn’t let them see the anxiety eating at you as the days drew closer to Mikey coming back to the house. Walter had tried to reassure you that everything would be fine, but you knew it would be so awkward. Sy had offered to move in with you, to which August protested that there wouldn’t be enough room because he’d be damned if he wasn’t moving in too. You let them bicker for an hour before shutting down the idea in general.

Sy had made sure August had taken you out for the day when Mikey had finally come back to the house. He didn’t deserve to even be in your presence. When the younger man walked through the door, Sy had given him a dirty look before going into the kitchen to start on a dinner he had been dying to have you try. Mike just nodded his head in acceptance before moving to lock himself in his bedroom. He was in there for an hour before he heard your laugh coming in through the front door. He had to physically restrain himself from running out to greet you, instead putting on his noise cancelling headphones and closed his eyes, praying for the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

It went on like this for weeks. If he happened to run into you around the house, you would avoid looking at him and run to another room, usually followed by Sy or August. Walter had picked up a new case and had barely been home. If Mike went to the bar with the guys, you would have the other bartender serve him.

Watching Sy and August love up on you was torture. It was like they were being extra affectionate just to tease him, looking right in his eyes when giving you a deep kiss or long hug. The worst was when he would hear you three at night, his room being right under the bed. Your cries of pleasure haunting him in his dreams.

It was getting towards the end of September, the weather was starting to get chilly and his classes were kicking his ass. He had resorted to moving in with Evan just so he could sleep. Walter had finally convinced you to move in, despite the tension between you and Mike. It hadn’t been an easy fight.

“Walt, baby, I really don’t think it’s a good idea. I still can’t even talk to him, living here is just going to make it worse.” you protest. It was on a rare night that he had come home from work and all three men had taken their turn ravishing you to exhaustion. You lay naked on your back in the middle of the bed, Sy half asleep with his face on your chest, August getting water and snacks in the kitchen, and Walter standing in the doorway to the bathroom towel drying his hair.

“But your lease is coming up, baby, and they’re going to raise your rent. What are you going to do, if you can’t renew it and can’t afford it?” Sy whispers against your breast.

“I can find another apartment, Sy.”

“Besides, Mike moved in with his friend, Evan.” If it wasn’t for Sy’s heavy body keeping yours pinned to the bed, you would have sat straight up.

“When?” you ask.

“A couple days ago. Said he couldn’t stand being in this house anymore, he couldn’t sleep.”

You both turn when you hear August coming up the stairs with his arms full. You took note of your favorite cookies and some waters. He takes one to Walter, before moving to sit on your other side and feeding you a bite of cookie.

“I just hope this doesn’t cause any problems with you guys and his mom…” you trail off. Walter had told you about Liza’s phone call when Mike told her what happened. You knew your boys probably got an earful, but eventually she came to understand her son was the one in the wrong. That still didn’t save them from the scolding over the idiocracy of their poly relationship.

They didn’t care though. It wasn’t her relationship, therefore her opinion didn’t matter.

“Liza will get over it. You, my dear, are OUR priority. Mikey moved out of his own freewill and you need a place to live. You can have Mikey’s old room, if you’re worried about losing a space to call your own.” Tears come to your eyes. God, you love them so much.

“Yeah, you can put all your witchy shit in there,” Sy says. All of you just laugh and carry on with your night.

August and Sy had helped you pack your apartment and, with a little help from Geralt, who had recently started spending time with your little group, had moved you in with your polycule. You sold most of your furniture aside from your dressers and mattress. Walter had even set up a space around the house for your cat, happy to have a free mouse catcher for when the rodents invaded during the snowy months. Everything was going great, you had your boys, work was banging so you had some extra cash in your pocket. Soon the sting from Mikey’s betrayal ebbed away to a dull throb.

It was mid-October when shit really hit the fan. The band at work was super popular around the local community and everyone was getting lit. Your boss had given you the night off per your request, but you just couldn’t seem to stay away from work, even off the clock. You had dressed up extra nice tonight, donning an outfit that showed off all your goodies. Sy and August had been to the barber a few days before and looked so yummy. Walter had opted to take the night and spend time with Faye during her time off for fall break. You had invited Geralt but he said the loud noises would mess with his sensitive ears.

After grabbing drinks and saying hi to your friends in the band, you take a seat at a table with the guys, talking to some regulars and friends. The night was going great, for at least an hour. Until Mikey walked in. Just seeing him pissed you off again. You made eye contact for just a split second before turning away, giving him the cold shoulder. Nothing gets past your two soldiers though, and both men clock onto their younger cousin making his way through the crowd. Sy slings one arm around your shoulders and August moves to block you into the booth, stuck between the two beefcakes. You keep your face forward, your focus solely on the band.

‘Fuck she looks good’ Mikey thinks. You had put on his favorite teddy, tits pushed almost to your chin, tucked into a pair of jeans so tight they might as well have been painted on. Your hair was curled and wild, and your make up was done in his favorite style. He missed the nights of watching the mascara run down your face from choking on his….. He shakes his head, starting to regret coming out tonight. One of your coworkers had told him you had taken the night off, and he was in the mood to drink himself stupid. He hadn’t spent a night sober since he moved out. He can’t even self pleasure any more, the guilt killing his sex drive. He refused to look at women. Not when the one he wanted was so close yet so far away. He tries ignoring the glares being sent to him from Sy and August. They hadn’t forgiven him for his mistake. To be honest, he hadn’t exactly forgiven himself.

When the band goes on break, you extract yourself from your loving bodyguards to go to the restroom. Locking yourself in the large stall, you turn your back to lean against the wall, taking a deep breath, before doing your thing and leaving the bathroom. You sneak out the door to the back patio quickly, before Sy or August can see you. You loved them deeply, but the past couple weeks they have been a tad overbearing. You move past all the smokers and into the back parking lot, taking in the cold air, letting it freeze/burn your lungs.

The healing you had done the past few weeks seemed to fly out the window at seeing him again. You missed him. You hated it, but you missed him so much. The stupid faces he would make when you were in a bad mood. The puppy dog eyes he would give you when asking for a bite of your food. The way he vigorously rubbed his face in your chest when he was tired and acting like a toddler. The memories cause tears to sting your eyes, and you put your fingers under your eyes to keep your makeup from running.

A cough from behind brings you back to the present, turning to find Mikey standing behind you. He had his head down, rubbing the back of his neck and scuffing his foot on the ground. It pleased and pained you to see him looking so rough. He was always pale, but his skin was almost gray. His hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in days and his clothes were rumpled. He looked like shit, and you loved it and hated it in a strange emotional paradox.

“Hey,” you whisper, and your heart breaks all over again. The circles under his eyes wouldn’t have been covered by the best concealer in the world. You just want to pull him into you and love every ounce of pain out of his eyes. But he broke your trust and you have to stand your ground.

“Hi,” he whispers back. It’s tense for a moment, and you’re wishing you would have snuck your pack of smokes into your purse without August seeing. All of them knew you had your vices, but August was adamant about breaking this specific bad habit. As if reading your mind, Mikey hands you a cigarette, and you take it with a quiet ‘thank you’. He lights it for you, and you both look each other in the eye before turning away again.

“Mikey-”

“I-”

You both speak at the same time, before smiling softly at each other. You motion for him to start first, anxious to hear what he has to say.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. What I did was wrong and I really hurt you. Nothing can excuse what I did, but if it’s any consolation, I feel like shit,” he clears his throat, and avoids eye contact with you.

“You look like shit,” you huff. He throws his head back and barks a laugh. His shoulders shake and you know it’s not because he finds anything funny.

“Thank you, Sweetcheeks.” You smile at his nickname.

“Seriously, Mikey, are you okay? You look like you haven’t seen the sun in weeks.”

“No, babes, to be honest I’m not. I can’t sleep without drinking half a bottle a night, I don’t think I’ve had a solid meal in two weeks, and my sex drive is completely gone. Hell, I can’t even masturbate!” The more he talks, the more manic he sounds until he shouts that last sentence, drawing the eyes of some customers walking by. You slap your hand to your face to hide from embarrassment.

“Sorry. But yeah, I’m not okay. But I brought this on to myself,” he mumbles. You would disagree, but you can’t. He made his decision, now he can lay in the bed he made.

“You look great, though. They must be taking good care of you,” he says almost bitterly.

“Yes, they are. I’m actually using your old room as an art studio.”

“Wow. That’s great.” You just nod your head. And then it really processes in your head, and you can’t help the petty happiness that fills you at the thought of him not being able to get it up. Your face must give away how you’re feeling.

“What?” Mikey asks.

“Would it be shitty of me to say it pleases me immensely that your dick isn’t working right now?” Now Mikey really laughs, from deep in his belly and full of mirth. You start laughing with him, and when you make eye contact, it only seems to amuse you further. Soon you both are wiping tears and holding your stomachs.

“No, babe, I wouldn’t fault you at all for taking pleasure in my pain. Matter of fact, if my suffering makes you happy, I will do it gladly.” You roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but damn it if that wasn’t what made you fall in love with him to begin with.

“I can admit I miss you, too, Mikey. But don’t think that this simple conversation is going to make everything magically better. You have a lot of trust to build back up, and not just with me.” You warn him. His eyes light up, and like a trick of the shadows around you, his skin almost seemed to glow back to life.

“I’ll do whatever you want, Sweetcheeks. I promise, I won’t so much as LOOK at another woman. You won’t regret this.” His body jerks forward, arms open to hug you before he hesitates. You open your arms in acceptance, ready to move past this awkwardness and be with your Mikey again. After a long few minutes of just soaking in each other after weeks apart, you move back and wipe your eyes once more. A gust of wind blows around you and sends a shiver over your naked shoulders and back.

“Let’s get you inside, Sweetcheeks,” Mikey says, shrugging off his zip up jacket and throwing it over your shoulders. You both move to go back inside just as the door opens and August and Sy come barreling out. August glares at the cigarette still in your hand while Sy shoots a dirty look at Mike’s jacket around you.

“Uh oh, Mikey, we should probably put out the smokes. Here comes Captain Killjoy and Agent Sourpuss,” you giggle.

“Careful, Sweetcheeks, they’re likely to punish you,” he jokes back. Two sets of cerulean eyes study you and Mikey closely. August looks ready to murder the younger man, while Sy just looks confused.

“So what’s going on here?” the bull grumbles.

“Mike and I have had a conversation, and he has apologized,” you start slowly. You’re unsure just how well they will react to this news.

“So one little ‘I’m sorry’ and he’s just forgiven?” August seethes. You take a deep breath. You love your Scorpio man, but Lord did he test you.

“It’s not all magically fixed, no. We still need to have a very long talk, and it’s going to take a lot of work, but for right now, tonight, we are going to leave the past in the past, let go of any grudges,” you look pointedly to both men, “and go enjoy our friend Alex’s singing and eat some good food because you,” you turn to Mikey, “are skin and bones. Am I clear?”

You had used what you call your ‘mom voice’, leaving no room for argument. All three men follow you back into the bar, Mikey sitting by the wall and letting you lock him into the booth. Things were going well until SHE walked in. That redheaded little hussy. It was a good thing Sy listened to you when you told him to keep you away from the whiskey. The last thing you needed was to go to jail tonight. None of the guys seemed to have noticed, so you chose to ignore it.

At the next intermission, Mikey decided he’d take the opportunity to get another round for the table. You kept your eyes stuck to him the entire time, launching yourself from the booth when you see MaKenna walk up to Mikey. He glances at her before looking around the room nervously. Sy and August follow but stay a few feet away. You sidle up to Mikey and wrap an arm around his waist and using the other hand to bring his face down to yours and sealing a deep kiss to his lips. You open your mouth and make a show of mingling your tongue with Mike’s, letting this bitch know he’s yours. Mikey follows you as you pull away, whining low in his throat when you break the kiss. You then turn to the girl beside you.

“Oh, hi. I forgot you existed,” you say. She’s looking between you and Mikey, very confused.

“I didn’t know you and Mike were dating,” she says. You narrow your eyes at her, knowing she was lying. She knew damn well what she did.

“MaKenna was just trying to hook up with me again. I was just telling her no,” Mikey rushed to tell you. The last thing he needed after making up with you was you thinking he hadn’t changed. The only acknowledgement you give him is a hum and a nod.

“Yeah, after he fucked you he realized he needed a real woman. I’m surprised you even have the guts to show up here after being fired the way you were. You really must feel no shame,” the venom dripping from your tongue could kill a horse, but damn if it wasn’t sexy. Mikey was trying so hard to hide the tightening in his jeans.

“I don’t know what you mean,” the smaller female starts.

“Oh, please. You got caught fucking another woman’s man, again, on the clock. And when his girlfriend showed up to kick your ass, it caused drama that didn’t need to be started here at work. You think you would have learned from that, but apparently you have no sense of self-preservation. I suggest you start looking for something safe to do, because I won’t be as nice as the last girl. You got lucky a bouncer was able to convince her not to knock your teeth in, but the bouncers here love me and would highly encourage it. So find someone else to fuck with, before that butterface of yours gets permanently damaged.”

All three of your boys groan. Seeing you so riled up was so hot, and they knew hearing you threaten someone shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was. The girl in front of you flinches before walking away from you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose. You’re typically not a confrontational person, but it felt so good to put someone in their place. And to do it without laying a hand on her.

“That was hot as fuck,” Mikey says behind you. You chuckle, turning back to flash him a flirty smile before grabbing his hand and moving to go grab the other two. The lust you see in August’s eyes sets you aflame. Sy just looks giddy, like a child. He knows exactly what’s about to happen. After grabbing your things and saying your goodbyes, feeling smug as you watch MaKenna move around the bar to avoid you. You pay out your tabs, leaving generous tips for the bartender and leaving with promises to fill her in on all the dirty details later. Gossip makes the work shift go by faster and Monday night was gonna be a HOT, tea party.

You almost run to Sy’s truck, August following closely behind to his car parked in the next spot over. Sy barrels past his cousin and quickly grabs you, turning you around and grabbing your cheeks in both hands. He tilts your head back and stares deeply into your eyes.

“I hate every bitch that isn’t you, you absolute fucking goddess.” he rumbles. The absolute desire radiating from his bulky form affecting the other two men. You giggle almost manically as he kisses you sloppily. You can taste the Jack he’s been drinking all night. He smacks his lips when he pulls away, reaching down to slap your ass before turning and climbing into his Chevy. August chuckles at his cousin’s antics, turning and unlocking his car. Mikey opens the door to the truck for you, helping you in by pushing under your asscheeks. It’s almost like your lovers had an obsession or something.

August eyes the actions closely, still suspicious of his younger cousin’s motives. Mikey catches his eye and looks down to the ground. You notice and give August a pointed look that said ‘stop it’. He couldn’t help it. It was his job to protect you, even from emotional pain. You stare even harder until he softens his expression.

“August, do you mind giving Mike a ride back home with us?” you say so sweetly it almost rotted his teeth. He huffs at you and you give him the bedroom begging eyes. The same eyes you give him when……. God damn it. You really knew how to get under his skin. He rolls his eyes to try to hide just how much you affect him.

“Fine. See you back at the house.” Mike hesitated, but moved when you poked him in the ribs and motioned for him to get in the car before shutting yourself in the truck, kicking your feet up on the dash. The Chevy rumbles to life and Sy peels out, leaving a trail of smoke in the parking lot. August rolls his eyes at the unnecessary display of masculinity. ‘Dumb country boy’.

The ride is silent and awkward, Mike fidgeting with his hoodie strings and bouncing his legs. August kept his focus on the road, ignoring the anxiety vibrating off the younger man. Ten minutes felt like an eternity. When they pulled in the drive, Mike finally felt like he could breathe. Sy had just turned off the truck when August put the car in park. You hopped out of the driver’s side, hair sticking out sideways and your lipstick smudged. Sy follows, mouth and cheeks red from your make out session. August rolls his eyes.

“Impatient asshole.” Sy just shoots him a smug smile. You giggle and reach up to kiss your agent, knowing he was just grumpy cause Sy got to have you first. He hums in satisfaction as you pull away, picking you up and walking you into the house. You take note of Walter’s car parked in the garage and try to wiggle out of August’s arms to go greet your other lover. Mike follows hesitantly, hands deep in his pockets and dragging his feet on the ground. The past several times he’s been in this house hasn’t exactly been pleasant.

August finally relents and lets you down. As soon as your feet hit the floor you’re on your way up the stairs, almost tripping in your haste. A strong arm wraps around your waist to catch you, and you mumble a thank you without looking at who it is and continuing your way up to the detective. He’s laying in bed with a case file in his hand, one arm behind his head. His hair is wet and he’s only in boxers. He looks up when you come in through the door, eyes light and a flush in your cheeks.

“You’re home early, and it looks like you had a good time. You’ve been absolutely ravished” You climb onto the bed, the alcohol finally catching up to you.

“I did! Mikey apologized and came home with us. Sy is at fault for the ruined lipstick.” The detective raises his brows in surprise.

“That’s great, Love.” he says, getting distracted by the three men filing into the room behind you. He makes eye contact with the youngest man, giving him a nod in greeting. Mike nods back, at least Walter isn’t as intimidating as August.

“And then that bitch showed up at the bar, that’s why we came home early,” you growl. Walter looks confused before Sy happily clarifies. The detective thought it odd his cousin was so excited to relay the news that the girl who Mike had cheated on you with had shown up to ruin your night.

“She tried hooking up with me again. Sweetcheeks, I didn’t tell you about her flirting with me so you would threaten her.” Mike explains. Walter raises his brows further and looks at you pointedly. Sometimes you forget he’s actually a cop.

“I didn’t threaten her! I told her she needed to find something safe to do, that’s just giving good advice.” you grumble.

“And it was so sexy when she did it.” Sy exclaims. Well, that explains that. You flush at the praise, tingles running down your spine. Walter chances a look at August, and the memory of you, the deadly venom in your tone, as you threatened the smaller girl just fed the flames. The lust in the agent’s eyes and the giddiness from Sy sparks something in Walter as well. You quickly catch on to the energy change in the room, biting your lip and making eye contact with each man. Mikey is unsure, though. You had just forgiven him for sleeping with someone else. Would you even want him to touch you? You notice his hesitation, beckoning him forward with a crook of your finger. He knows that look, and he’s happy to let you be in charge again.

He kneels at the foot of the bed, hands laid flat on his thighs, head down in submission. You hum in satisfaction, crawling to get closer to him, ass in the air and hips swaying back and forth. You hear a chorus of groans ring around the room, but keep your focus on the boy in front of you.

“Poor Mikey. He confessed to me earlier that he’s been having trouble getting it up here lately, boys.”

“Serves him right,” August spits. You want to roll your eyes at the hostility, but know that would only lead to a paddling later.

“But he’s apologized, Auggie. It’s time to move past it, don’t you think he’s suffered enough?” It took Mike a moment to remember the dynamic at play here. You submitted to August, and he submitted to both of you. He could only imagine the hell he had coming in his near future.

“By the universe, sure. But I think you have been too lenient on him, Kitten.”

“Agreed.” That comes from Sy. You turn behind you to look at Walter, who gives his nod in agreement to the other two.

“So what do you suggest I do?” Sy shrugs.

“That’s up to you, Sugar. You’re in charge here.” You contemplate for a moment before an idea pops into your head. Mike gulps as he watches a sinister smile bloom across your lipstick smeared mouth. The deviant look in your eyes lets him know he’s in for a long night.

“Your punishment, Baby Face, is to look but not touch.”

Oh yeah, he’s well and truly fucked.

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

You flop back onto the bed, gasping for breath and covered in sweat. Sy groans beside you, just as sweaty and breathless. Walter leans his back against the headboard, and August and Mikey are curled together on your naked thighs. One solid hour of sex and passion had sobered you up. As the endorphin high slowly subsides, you move to get up, attempting to extract yourself from the pile of skin and hair and sweat.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Sy grumbles.

“I have to pee, let me up.” you grumble. August and Mike groan as they move off you, Walter giving you a hand to keep your balance as you stand on the mattress and maneuver your way off the bed and to the bathroom. You start the shower, not enjoying the sticky feeling of sweat and cum drying on your skin. Once deemed warm enough, you step under the spray and the let water wash over you.

You close your eyes and turn to wash your face. Now sober, and in a post-nut clarity state of mind, you think about Mikey and just how easily you gave into him tonight. The boys were right, you were too lenient. You said you needed to talk, but what would you say? You had already told him he hurt you, and that was still needing to be further discussed, but you also wanted to know why. You let out a deep sigh and run a hand down your face.

You flinch when you feel an arm wrap around you, turning to find Walter giving you a worried look. You give him a small smile, turning back into the water to finish scrubbing the make up from your face, before turning to grab your body wash. He stops you, grabbing the soap and your loofah before gently starting to wash your chest. You hum, closing your eyes and leaning back to let the water flow through your hair.

“What were you thinking about, Love?” Walter asks softly, causing you to open your eyes.

“Mikey, and the talk we all need to have.” you whisper. “Just don’t know how I want to go about it.”

“You want to talk it through with me? Help process your thoughts before going in blind?” you huff a laugh out of your nose, before nodding.

“I want to know why he did it, but at the same time, I’m scared to really find out.” He nods his head, putting his hands on your shoulders to turn you so he can start washing your back.

“I’m also confused on how to get over the hurt. The anxiety and that little voice whispering in my ear that he’s going to do it again.” You feel him hum as he starts to massage your shoulders, releasing the knots in your neck.

“Unfortunately, my dear, that little voice may never go away. But Michael put that voice there, and if he’s truly sorry and serious about being with you again, he will work very hard to chase that little voice away.” You nod, understanding what he’s saying, and you appreciate his wisdom, but it does little to ease the heaviness in your chest. Your thoughts are interrupted when Sy burst into the shower.

“Y’all are having a party in here and didn’t invite me?’ he says, fake offense on his bearded face. You chuckle and roll your eyes.

“It’s a shower therapy session, Captain. Just working through some thoughts and feelings.” He raises his eyebrows, not expecting that retort.

“Well, make room. I need to wash off.” he pushes into the small space. Walter grunts while you giggle, rinsing the last of the soap off and slipping out of the shower and grabbing a towel. You can hear the two men in the shower bickering but pay no mind as you make your way to the bedroom to steal one of Walter’s sweaters. You take note that the bedsheets have been removed and the other two men are no longer in the room.

After drying off and getting dressed in the sweater, some panties, and knee high socks to keep your legs warm, you move to go downstairs where you knew August would be putting together after care snacks. Walter and Sy are leaving the bathroom as you head to the bathroom door, stopping to give them both a kiss before leaving the room and going downstairs.

As you had predicted, August was in the kitchen, pajama bottoms hanging off his delectable hips, putting together sandwiches and juice. Sometimes you think he took the nickname “Daddy” too seriously. You look to your right to see Mike in the laundry room, pulling out clean bedsheets and a bigger comforter. This leaves you puzzled, Mikey never did chores. As if he can read your thoughts, he looks up and gives you a sheepish smile.

“Just trying to help out.” he mumbles. You just nod your head, your brain still trying to compute what it was seeing. You must have looked like a SIM, just standing there staring. You snap back into reality when August clears his throat, giving you a look of confusion.

“Yes, Daddy?’ you say. It was almost instinctual at this point to call him that at home. He just simply smirks, before grabbing your hand and moving you to sit at the kitchen island in front of a plate of food. You start to salivate at the sight of a sandwich and fruit. He puts a bottle of water beside the plate before kissing your forehead and moving to put together plates for everyone else.

You munch quietly on your fruit, mind going back to the conversation you’re going to have to have with your four boys. Walter and Sy were easy to talk to, giving you the space to freely and safely speak about how you feel. The strength that radiates from them giving you a sense of peace, leaving you unafraid of your feelings. You didn’t have to tell August what was on your mind. He had an uncanny ability to guess how you’re feeling most times. ‘You can’t control your face, Baby Girl.’

You lift your head up from your snack when you hear Walter and Sy come thundering down the stairs. Both are dressed just as August, leaving you in a sea of man titties and hair. This is the closest to Heaven you will ever get and you can die a happy woman secure in that knowledge. Immediately Sy goes to a plate of food, grumbling a thank you to August in between bites. Walter takes a plate and sits beside you on a stool. August and Sy are standing against it on the opposite side, and you see Mikey shuffle his feet to your other side.

“Guys, we need to talk.” you say. Walter doesn’t react, August and Sy just blink, but you feel Mikey tense up beside you. He knew it was coming still. He just didn’t think you would do it so quickly after what just happened upstairs. He hadn’t even thought about what he was going to say to the other guys. Hell, you didn’t know how to even begin. Now that you’re thinking about it, this probably should have been a one on one talk with Mikey.

“I know that things aren’t going to be the way it was before,” you start. You don’t have to clarify what you meant by before. Just that word alone is enough to drive a knife through Mikey’s heart. You didn’t look at him directly, but he knew you were talking to him. The three older men stay quiet, letting you get what you need to off your chest. August’s sharp attention to detail doesn’t fail to notice the sweat starting to bead on Mikey’s forehead. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you are about to ask.

“Why, Mikey?” your voice cracks, pushing your plate away and looking up at him with tears in your eyes. A lump formed in his throat and he didn’t know what to say for a minute. He didn’t know how to tell you it was because he felt like less of a man in your eyes compared to the other three. How could he tell you he was insecure and emotionally immature and he doesn’t want you to look at him with pity.

“I…” he voice cracks. You raise your brows, anticipating his answer.

“Was it something I did? Something I said?” you croak. This pisses Sy off.

“Don’t go blaming yourself, Darlin’. Mike made the decision to do what he did, no matter what you did or said to him,” he almost barks. You turn to him, seeing his face and chest starting to turn red with anger. You just nod, making eye contact with August who just gives a nod in agreement. You turn back to Mikey.

“He’s right. I could have just talked to you about what I was feeling.”

“What were you feeling?’ Walter asks. If he could get Mikey talking about it, the sooner it unburdens you.

“Emasculated, ignored,” he mumbles. “I just, you call me Baby Face, and it made me feel like you see me as a kid, not a man like these three,” he motions to the others.

“That’s because you are a kid,” Sy grumbles. You turn and give him a pointed look, telling him to shut the fuck up with your eyes.

“He’s right, Baby Cakes, I am. It took me moving out and doing some self-reflection, to realize I’m not yet a man. Hell, I can’t even grow facial hair yet!” You all chuckle, fully aware of just how virile it makes the other three look. “I just, felt like less of a man. But those weeks apart showed me how little I really know and just how much I still have to learn about being, not just a good man, but a good man for you.” You nod along, listening intently and understanding where he’s coming from.

“I wasn’t aware of just how jealous I was going to feel about sharing you. It was like everytime I wanted alone time with you, one of the others needed you more.”

“That’s understandable, but baby you have to tell me when you’re feeling neglected like that,” you say, reaching out to grab his hand in yours. You bring it up to your mouth for a kiss, before setting it back down on the counter.

“It’s not that hard, really. Pick one night a week when she can be all yours,” that comes from August, face stoic as ever. Mikey wanted to get an attitude, but remembered that he should be taking the advice.

“Or just tell us when you want some one on one time, we’ll give you a couple hours,” Sy says.

“And jealousy is normal, but you gotta talk to me, Mikey,” you say, bringing his attention back to you. “I’m sorry my nickname made you feel that way, I can find other nicknames to call you.”

“You can call me whatever you want, baby. I realized it doesn’t matter, as long as I’m with you.”

“But why her?” you ask. It was bad enough that he cheated, but with someone you had told him made you feel insecure.

“I don’t know. She showed up at a party one night, and some petty part of me wanted to make you feel the same way watching you with them made me feel. It was immature and wrong.” A part of you could understand that. You were young and immature once too, and you could go from pretty to petty with one letter.

“Do you understand what that did to her?” August says. He wants to yell, but the look on your face says he needs to be calm. Mike shakes his head. In all of his self-reflection, he considered he had hurt you but didn’t think to what extent.

“You almost killed her self-esteem. It took me two weeks just to get her to be comfortable with being naked, just with herself. She didn’t leave bed for anything other than work for a month. Hell, Geralt wasn’t able to touch her for a week because she couldn’t stop crying, and you know how he feels about emotions.” Sy says.

“Geralt is coming around?” Mike says.

“That’s not the point,” Walter chimes in.

“Right. Baby, I’m sorry,” Mikey starts. You just shake your head.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you were honest with me. Just, PLEASE, start talking to me about how you feel. Communication is the only way this is going to work,” you have to emphasize the last sentence heavily. He nods his head furiously. You open your arms for a hug, Mikey wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tightly.

“Though, I do have one request,” he trails off. You hum, waiting to hear what he has to say.

“Can I top you at least twice a week?”

You blink, before bursting out laughing, breaking the hug and leaning back onto Walter as your body shakes. You can feel him laughing behind you, and hear Sy chuckling. August rolls his eyes, typical Mikey.

“Anything you want, Baby Boy. I love you, thanking you for talking to me,” you say, leaning over and giving him a deep kiss. He kisses you back just as lovingly. He pulls back, gazing at you adoringly before turning to his older cousins.

“I’m sorry to you guys, too. I was the one who brought up this whole arrangement not knowing just what it would take to maintain it.”

August just nods, not having fully forgiven him for what he did to you, he couldn’t care less about a slight done to himself. Walter and Sy just mumble “it’s okay.”

“But I want to thank you, too. Thank you for cleaning up my mess and taking the best care of her. I really owe you guys,” he rubs the back of his neck, unsure how they would respond to that.

“Well, we took care of her because we love her, that’s what you do when you love someone, you take care of them,” Walter says. You smile at that, full of love for your big grump.

“And I plan on making it up to her every day.” he looks deep into your eyes, hoping to really drive home his promise. You smile and cup his face, thumb caressing his cheek. He turns and kisses your palm, before putting his hand over yours and lacing your fingers together. The tender moment is broken by your wide yawn. Sy claps his hands.

“Alright, Little Girl, bed time!” he moves around the island to pick you up, never letting you release Mikey’s hand. Sy carries you upstairs, your arm slung over his shoulder to keep your fingers locked with Mike’s. August starts cleaning the kitchen while Walter puts together the bedsheets Mike had dropped when you started your talk. Sy keeps you in his arms as Walter makes the bed, Mike just staring at you, so thankful for your graciousness.

As soon as the bed is finished, Sy lays you gently in the middle, letting Mike take his place by your side in the bed. Just as Walter was going to climb in with you, his phone rings. You groan, knowing a phone call this late can only mean he’s got another lead on his case. He gives you a quick kiss before moving to the closet and answering his phone. As predicted, he gets dressed in jeans and his sweater, pulling his boots on before giving you one more kiss and leaving the bedroom. You hear the door shut downstairs and send up a prayer to any deity that will listen to keep him safe.

You take the usual position, on your back so you can have one on each side and one on top of your chest. Mike is to your left and Sy decides he wants to be in between your legs tonight. August comes into the bedroom, turning off lights before climbing in to your right. Tucked in between three out of the four loves of your life, you drift into the best sleep you’ve had in weeks, surrounded by love and hair.

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

Taglist: @just-ten-cents @shellyshellshell @wa-ni @summersong69

#captain syverson x reader #reader insert #captain syverson #walter marshall x reader #mike (hellraiser)#henry cavill fanfic #august walker x reader #henry cavill #reverse harem #fan fiction

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anonymityisfunwriter · 3 months

Text

The Birds and The Bees

A.N. I don't usually do many author's notes in Tumblr, but never, never, not once, has a fic ever been so requested, by so many different people, that I feel like I have to.

@i-love-mommy-wanda "Being that she stayed in a room most of her life- just hear me out- a oneshot - of Sam giving her the" TALK!" like birds and bees and where baby's come from I think that would be funny" @/thequeeranarchist "I don't know if you take requests, but I thought about if someone had to explain the birds and the bees to sunshine considering she probably never had been told about it. Idk, I thought about sunshine and Bucky's first time together too, but I don't know your comfortability with what you write and what you don't. And grumpy x sunshine is officially my favourite trope now bc of this series."

I don't even - I just don't even know what to say. (Please note, that as I write this, I'm quite literally giggling to myself and have quite literally reverted to my awkward 16 year old self) I get requests somewhat regularly, but this, this is the most requested topic. You guys just really wanted to know about this.

Listen, here's the thing, reading second hand embarrassment is one thing. WRITING IT? I was in physical pain, but the scene wasn't going to write itself. I tried, it really didn't write itself.

But I did it. Because I love you guys. And now, it'll be another 5 to 7 business days before I can log back on.

P.S. I know there's other people who requested it too, but I can't find the requests, but please know I didn't forget about you!

Anon's 1K Celebration

Pairing: Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader Summary: Falling in love is easy, as natural as breathing, so why is talking about it so embarrassing?

"Sam," you frantically call from the doorway, clutching your racing heart, "I think I'm dying."

"What? Why? What happened?" Sam rushes out, frantically searching you for signs of duress.

You double over, hands clutching your sides, "Well, I'm not sure, but I did Google it and I think I'm having a heart attack."

Sam takes a long sigh, resting his hands on his hips in mild exasperation. At least he knew you weren't actually dying. "And why do you think you're having a heart attack?"

"I just," you dramatically clutch your chest, finally standing upright, "My heart feels like it's in my stomach, and- and I'm all sweaty, and fluttery. And I want to curl up into a little ball and die, but maybe also listen to every Taylor Swift song ever written."

"Well, that was," Sam clears his throat, "That was very descriptive."

You flop down on your couch and groan into one of the cushions, "Just leave me here to die."

"You're not dying."

You lift your head to glare at him, "You don't know."

"I do know," Sam insists. "You're a healthy, 25 year old woman, the chances of you having a heart attack are almost zero."

"But not zero," you point out.

Sam sighs, grabbing your hand and pulling you up off the couch, "You're not dying, and you're not having a heart attack."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"If you're wrong, I'll haunt you."

"I'll take my chances," Sam playfully rolls his eyes, "So what were you doing right before you thought you were having a heart attack?"

"I-" you clear your throat, a furious blush warming your entire face, "I don't want to tell you."

He should've known something was wrong right from the get go. You were always so open, so honest about everything. You weren't raised under the same social contract, or any social contract, and you were still learning basic social norms and customs. For better or worse, you were the most honest and open person Sam had ever known.

So for you to be this flustered, this shy and jittery, it had to be something pretty important.

He should've left it at that. He really should've left it at that. But no, like the concerned friend he was, he pressed the topic even more.

He gently nudges your shoulder, taking a seat beside you, "I can't help you if you don't tell me."

You abruptly stand up, awkwardly chuckling. You inch away from him, jutting your thumb back to your room, "You know, now that I think about it, I'm all better, heart attack healed. Good talk, thanks, Sam."

"Come on, just tell me," Sam cajoles, patting the seat beside him. "We tell each other everything."

"I was on the phone."

"Okay..." Sam could count on one hand the number of people that had any means to communicate with you. Hell, he could count exactly how many people had knowledge of your existence with both hands.

It takes Sam a second to realize that he's too lost in his worry to actually hear what you're telling him, "... so Bucky told me we could practice-"

He already doesn't like where this is going. "Practice what?"

"Texting, Sam." You quirk an eyebrow at him, "Are you even listening to me?"

Sam suspiciously nods, settling back into the couch, "Right."

"And we've sort of been texting each other."

"Uh-huh," Sam nods along, though he gets the distinct feeling that he won't like where this is going. Not in the slightest. He physically braces himself as he asks his next question, "So, um, what were you guys talking about?"

You timidly shrug, twisting and untwisting your fingers, "Just stuff."

"Stuff?" Sam dubiously repeats. "Talking about stuff made you think you were having a heart attack?"

"Yes..." It's clear to him that you're lying through your teeth. It's clear that this is as weird for him as it is for you. You clap your hands down on your lap, abruptly standing with up a fierce blush painting your face, "You know what? I completely forgot I have to water my plants!"

"I know you're lying!" Sam calls after you as you scramble away.

"No, I'm not!" you shout over your shoulder. "I'll be back! Maybe! Probably! Definitely at some point!"

This wasn't the first time something like this happened, a strange, slightly uncomfortable situation happening.

This whole living arrangement with you and Sam would probably be called a strange, slightly uncomfortable situation by most people. Most of the time, Sam was able to handle these things on his own.

Having grown up with a younger sister, Sam was fairly comfortable talking about and dealing with certain things. That did not mean he was even remotely prepared or even qualified to explain those things to you.

The first time it happened was about a month into living with each other.

It was just cramps. Until it wasn't.

He phoned it in to Maria Hill.

Crisis averted. Mostly.

Because a couple of months later, another of those awkward situations arose.

The second time was an awkward encounter with a barista at your local cafe.

Apparently, getting breakfast and coffee with a person of the opposite sex first thing in the morning day in and out meant that people could just assume the nature of your relationship. And it wouldn’t have been the most ridiculous assumption if it weren’t for the fact that it absolutely was the most ridiculous assumption.

Sam was just thankful that he was as certain of your feelings as he was of his own.

He'd handled that situation fairly well on his own, even if it did take several days for you two to be within five feet of each other.

And now here he was again. Sitting all alone in your living room, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with this. And that's when he sees it. The scene of the crime sat right before him, right on the coffee table. Your phone.

"You forgot your-" He stops himself from finishing that sentence. Because this wasn't your run of the mill awkward situation, no, this was worse. A lot worse than some nosey barista. So much worse that he thinks about doing something stupid. An overprotective, older brother sort of stupid. He tries to rationalize it, after all, you’d left the phone right there. Right there. Right in front of him. Within his reach. What kind of handler would he even be if he wasn’t keeping a close eye on you?

“No.” Sam suddenly changes his mind, softly muttering to himself, “That is an invasion of privacy. What kind of friend-“

And before he even knows it, your phone is in his hand. And he’s clicking on your messages.

And he’s reading your texts to Bucky.

JBB: What does 'lol' mean? You: It's either lots of love or laugh out loud. Idk. JBB: What does that mean? The idk? You: I don't know. JBB: I'll ask. You: No, it means I don't know. JBB: Oh. JBB: I know you can't see me, but I'm frowning right now. You: You make me laugh. JBB: I like making you laugh. JBB: But if you tell anyone that, I'll deny it. You: lol JBB: Which version of lol was that? Lots of love or laughing out loud? You: That’s for me to know. JBB: And for me to find out? You: lol

"That was smooth as hell," Sam mutters to himself. Sam has to stop at that point. He can’t read any more. He scoffs to himself, “She’s been out a year and flirts better than I do.”

There’s a part of him that’s a little mad. Mostly about your shockingly incredible ability to flirt.

But it also grates on that older brother nerve. The same one Sarah used to love to poke and prod at when they were younger.

He's still sort of in his right mind. At least enough to know that he's out of his element with this one. There’s no way that he can approach you about this. Especially not after reading through your messages.

What even was this? Was it just harmless flirting? Was it you just trying to get out there and socialize with the few people you were allowed contact with?

Or were there feelings there? And, if there were feeling, what kind of feelings?

He rapidly shakes his head trying to rid himself of the idea. That was not an image he needed in his head.

Sam decides in that very moment, this is too far out of his league. He can't handle this. An while might not be able to handle this, he knew someone who could, someone much more qualified than he was. He dials her number right away. She answers on the third ring.

"I need your help," Sam sharply whispers into his phone.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"There is flirting happening over here!"

Maria sighs in relief, "Oh, good, I thought there was a real problem happening."

"Did you not hear me? Flirting, Maria! Flirting!"

"So?"

"Do you know what flirting leads to?" Sam wildly questions.

"No?"

"It leads to... other things - I don't know! And that's why I need your help! I can't deal with this!"

"You can't call me over for things like this."

"I thought you said you were happy to help!"

"I was! I am, but you're supposed to be keeping a low profile. Having me walk in and out of your front door in broad daylight is not low profile."

"So then come in through the backdoor!" Sam pleads.

"Sam," Maria deadpans.

"I know, I know, you're right."

"I know it's a little... uncomfortable, but you just have to deal. Nick wouldn't have picked you if he thought even for a second that you couldn't handle this. It might be a little weird at first, but you've got this."

And he used to be sure that he could.

He used to be great at this job. Catching you up on pop culture? No one better than Sam. Healthy dialogue? Second nature to Sam. Ability to keep you safe? He was doing a damned good job at it if he could say so himself.

Then came the Bucky of it all.

Bucky fucking Barnes.

Sam had half a mind to kick Bucky's ass for making you feel... whatever you were feeling.

Sam's only saving grace was that you'd pretty much become self sufficient in most areas of your life when Bucky came into the picture a few months ago. Since then, things were different. You were different. At first, Sam was sure it was just the excitement and thrill of having a new friend.

He could kill Bucky for making your life more complicated. For making his life more complicated.

Bucky fucking Barnes.

He's so lost in his plot to murder Bucky Barnes that he almost doesn't realize it when you shuffle back into the living room. "Sam?"

Sam's head snaps up, "Huh?"

"I said what are you doing?"

"Um... Just thinking."

"About?"

"What's going on with you and Bucky?" Sam abrasively blurts out.

Your eyes blow wide. "What?"

"Sorry, what I meant to say was - what's going on with you and Bucky?" Sam demands with equal fervor.

"Nothing!" you exclaim.

"Well, I know you're lying!"

"I'm not lying!" you insist.

"I saw you two flirting over text!"

"You read our texts?" Your eyes snap over to the coffee table where you left your phone. Sure enough, it's upright and in a completely different spot. "Are you crazy?"

"No, no, I am not crazy because you two are over there flirting and- and- and flirting and I'm not ready to be an uncle again!"

Both your hands cover your flaming face as you turn to leave the room again, "Oh my God!"

Sam reaches out, grabbing your arm to guide you back to the conversation that he knew deep down just had to happen, "No, no, we are going to sit and we are going to talk about this."

"About what?!" you shriek.

"About this! You know this. The flirting. Dating. Other things. You know what so please don't make me say it," Sam pleads with you, looking every bit as awkward as you feel.

"No, I don't, so no, we're not!"

"You not knowing is the literal reason we have to talk about this!" Sam rants.

You turn to try to leave again, "I'm leaving."

Sam wedges himself in the doorway, physically blocking you from leaving, "Oh, no, you're not."

You try to squeeze past him, "Oh, yes, I am."

"No, you're not!"

"Why not?"

"Because we have to talk about this."

"Why?" you exclaim with a particularly shrill tone.

"I don't know!" Sam throws his hands up. "But we are. And we are going to hate every single second of it. And then we never have to talk about it ever again."

"You swear?"

"I swear," Sam promises, raising his right hand. He gestures to the couch, "If you sit and we have the talk, we will never speak of it again."

"Fine," you grumble under your breath, huffing as you slump onto to the couch.

"Great..."

So you sat.

And you listened.

And you did your best not to cringe at what Sam was telling you. And then it was over. The silence palpable. Your face burning with embarrassment. Sam's face burning with embarrassment. But it was over. It was all said and done.

You both sit on the couch with your hands in your lap, several feet away from each other, not even looking at each other but staring at the turned off television before you. After many, many long minutes of sitting in awkward silence, you turn to Sam with a questioning look, "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think we know too much about each other?"

"Definitely starting to."

"Glad we're on the same page."

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series Anon's 1K Celebration

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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athenaswrath · 4 months

Note

Hello, I hope you are well ✨

I was wondering if you could write something with Sebastian Aho please, whatever you want.

thank u 🤍

@yangofyang I'm sorry it took a while to post I hope you like it🫶🏻

Fishy being engaged is so heartwarming, so here's a little something about that (kinda) and also Jarvy being his clueless self

Word count: 1,355

You knew before you started working in a coffee shop near the PNC arena that it was going to be packed at times. What you didn't know, was that the hockey team was going to be there daily, too. You never considered yourself a hockey fan, but you knew about them—city legends, after all. Even if you hadn't known them, they were hard to miss, most of them passing 6'0.

The first time I saw them, there were only three of them: Brady, Bunting and Sebastian, are the names they gave you for their orders. "You're new here, never seen you before" said Bunting while the other two turned to look at me. It was a very calm day so they were the only ones in the coffee shop. "Yeah, I'm new pretty much everywhere around here actually, I just moved in" I said softly. It was hard not to get intimidated by them. I wasn't exactly short, but they could make you feel like you were 3'5

"So you don't know who we are?" said Bunting faking a hurt tone "I mean, it would be hard not to know when your faces are all over the city." - "It's a pretty face though, isn't it?" he said in a flirty way. "You're so full of yourself, I swear" Brady told him while giving him a playful shove before adding "I hope you're liking it here so far, we're gonna be around here a lot so anything you need, let us know, right Fishy?" he smirked and gave Sebastian a side hug, Bunting laughed, Sebastian's face heated, and I felt like I missed something.

What started off as a simple thing became a daily occurrence, Sebastian now would go for a morning walk and stop by the coffee shop before making his way to the arena. He enjoyed his new routine, getting a coffee, talking to y/n, and having a smile plastered on his face as he walks back to his morning training session.

After a couple of weeks, Sebastian finally asked you out. He could tell there was a bit of hesitation on your part but after watching those cute eyes of his, you couldn't really say no to him.

"So who's got you smiling like that all the time now, Fishy?" Necas asked him one day when they were changing into their gear “Don’t start" is the only thing he said, “Oh c’mon, there has to be someone. Serious, sometimes grumpy Fishy, grinning like a fool every day?”

“There is no one” Sebastian said, but he could feel his face heating up, remembering last night's event with you, “Are you going to watch the game tomorrow?” he asked “wouldn't miss it” - “well, in that case, I'll need my good luck kiss, can't risk making a fool of myself” he teased. Closing the distance, you placed your lips over his, and when you went to pull away, his arm snaked around your waist, his hand finding its way into your hair.

Jarvy snapped him out of his thoughts when he said "You think Mr. Aho has time for someone? He's probably been coming up with new ideas on how to be the best in the team". Necas just raised his hands in defeat, but he was not the least bit convinced, at the back of the room Brady and Bunting looked at each other while trying to hold back their smirks.

You two have been dating for 3 months now. Sebastian was away for the last week, so the day he arrived, he asked to see you, to which you immediately agreed. What you weren't expecting was for him to formally ask you to be his girlfriend. He was the sweetest guy you've ever met, so your response was an immediate yes

Sebastian was sure you'd met everyone by now, and even when they didn't know you were officially together, they could see how much you meant for each other, especially because of the special treatment you receive from him. They knew Sebastian was a kind man, but he didn’t treat anyone else like this. So they would abstain from teasing him because you were just so good for Fishy, and they wanted him to be happy.

To say you were nervous the first time you went out with the team and their girls was an understatement, you weren't sure you were going to fit with them. The first to notice you was Jarvy, whom you could tell had already had a couple of drinks. "Oh, hey y/n, I'm glad they all invited you over." Slavin who was nearby, shook his head but immediately introduced you to his wife. After a couple of minutes of being introduced to everyone, you felt yourself starting to relax. All the girls were just as nice as the guys.

A couple of weeks later, you attended your first game with the wags, and everyone was delighted just by watching Sebastian being that happy. Some of the girls were there already, so he knew what you were going to be wearing, but the minute you entered the room with his number on your jacket, he felt himself fighting for air. He could see the blush on your face, along with that cute smile of yours, and he promised himself that he would do anything in his power to keep it there for the rest of his life.

Jarvy, entered the room at that moment and stopped for one second after he noticed you, "huh, I thought only their girls got to wear that, but you look great" he gave you a thumbs up and left the room with a bunch of snacks in his hand.

After what probably was their best game of the season, you rushed to meet Sebastian after he was ready to go home. "Hei rakkaani (hello my love), let's go home, yeah?" Sebastian said, giving a peck to your lips. You were almost outside the room when you heard a confused Jarvy say, "Wait, are they dating?"

...

5 years have passed since you started dating Sebastian, and you remember every single minute you've spent together, from the moment you saw him for the first time; when he asked you out, and you hesitated, worried that he wouldn't take you seriously or that you wouldn't be enough for him, even though he's spent this entire time showing you how much you really mean to him.

There were rough periods where those thoughts came back, like a couple of days ago you two were laying in bed, and he could feel the tension pouring down your every pore, so he said, "I don't get how you are the only person who does not see how amazing, how kind, smart and beautiful you are. I see it, the team sees it, everyone who's been lucky to meet you sees it, and still I find you doubting yourself over and over again."

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to come out as ungrateful..."

"No, rakkaani. I didn't say it to make you feel bad; I'm saying it because you are my world. But I promise I'm always going to be here to reassure you, and to give you all the love you deserve"

You couldn't stop the tears running down your cheeks, or the smile breaking through your face. You swore this man couldn't make you any happier, but then he looked at you in the eye and said "Marry me, please"

...

When everyone on the team saw your ring, they couldn't help but be the happiest for you. They knew the moment they met you, that you and Fishy were perfect for each other; they've never seen him as happy as he was when you were close to him.

"What are we celebrating?" asked Jarvy. When you showed him your ring, he took your hand and said, "Oh, it is a nice ring indeed; I didn't know y'all guys were into jewelry", the group broke into a fit of laughter, and you just hoped Jarvy realized what was really going on before he got the wedding invitation

#sebastian aho imagine #sebastian aho #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #nhl fic #Sebastian Aho x reader #Sebastian Aho oneshot #Sebastian Aho x y/n

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writtenontheport · 10 months

Note

Hey, would you write Anthony Lockwood x reader, in which George and Lucy are fed up with the reader and Lockwood arguing and lock them in the basement for the whole night until they reconcile, and at the same time profess their love for each other. Thanks in advance

Skeletons in the Closet but it’s Actually Just Us

Anthony Lockwood x (gn) reader

Warnings/Tags: Romcom levels of fluff, You’ve Got Mail level of romcom, no suggestive content, Lucy and George friendship, They are deeply fed up, ‘Locked in a cupboard until they confess’ trope, Lockwood is a silly guy, confessions, Reader is a bit of a grumpy person, Valid tbh when the love of their life is some self-sacrificing bozo, A bit of angst given the nature of the Problem, mentions of death,

Notes: Just reviewed all the romcoms I’ve watched these past few weeks so this might be extra cheesy. Also I am rereading your request, anon and I am so sorry but I misread it so BAD 💀But also I changed the time a bit from it being night to it being right after a case! I’m so sorry this isn’t how your request put it 😭 I have terrible reading skills VERY LOOSELY EDITED AND SHORT

Summary: You and Lockwood are unable to voice your own feelings for each other, which frustrates Lucy and George enough to take action. An argument, locked storage, and a heart to heart about the nature of your world later, you’re setting up… a date..???

Anthony John Lockwood was an annoying prat who strutted about like a peacock in desperate need of a slap. Now this frustration is usually the result of something smaller; minute, you might even say, but today— oh, today.

“You ran straight into danger—“ You repeat yourself for what must be the 4th time the past hour. Anthony is sitting across from you in the kitchen “—even though George and I had specifically warned you—“

“Lucy went in too!” He blurts, throwing his shoulders up.

“Keep me out of this,” Lucy hisses, narrowing her eyes at him, “I actually brought iron chains with me.”

You gesture at her wildly, nodding in vindication as you turn back to Lockwood, “Exactly. Lucy knew what she was doing, you were just being reckless! I basically had a heart attack when that Visitor nearly ghost-touched you because you—“

“I didn’t need you to push me aside and put yourself in danger, though!” He hissed, just as frustrated. “I knew what I was doing. I’m very well aware of how it looked like, but I swear I knew what I was doing. Even if… I did need your help getting out of the trouble I put myself in after.”

A pregnant pause hangs in the air, frustration and worry laying under tension so thick you could it with a knife. You look away first with a defeated huff. Lockwood raises a brow and his lips split into a wobbly smile, the charming bastard. He lounges back into his seat and rests one arm on the table in front of him— a gesture for your hand. The look would have been more impactful if a bruise wasn’t already forming on cheek and there wasn’t blood drying on his brow. Still, you make your way over to him to fix his tie (which had gotten caught on banisters during the case) and push his collar up. He beams at you when you pat his jacket neat, but you’re still upset.

“Reckless… stupid prick…” You mumble, brushing his hair with your hands.

Under you, Lockwood’s grin grows just the faintest bit soft as he lolls his head back just to watch your frown.

“I think, hear me out, this is just because you’re worried about me,” Lockwood hums.

You scoff, tugging his tie down harshly, “Someone has to with how little you seem to worry about your own life. Like, seriously Anthony? Our lives are on the line—“

“Want to go on a date?” He asks, interrupting you. You choke on air and quickly let go to swat at his chest. Even if he meant that jokingly, something blazing seemed to unfurl in your chest and stuttered your breathing. You’re usually warm around Lockwood, human heater that he was, but this was a feeling that had your palms clammy and your teeth burried into your lips.

“Now is not the time to joking, Lockwood,” you grit out.

“Well I’m not. I really mean—“ he starts, but the sound of a clang startles you both. Lockwood springs up and takes your hand in his, putting himself between you and the basement door. You look around to find Lucy, but her chair’s empty and pushed in. Worry seeps into your bones with a familiarity like the hand holding yours.

“Lucy? George?” Lockwood calls out, stepping closer to find the door ajar.

Distantly you hear both of them call for you and Lockwood, sounding distressed. You push yourself in front of Lockwood into the spiral staircase down, dismissing the small click of his tongue from behind you.

“You’re being reckless now,” He whispers harshly, which you ignore.

It’s a quick trip to the bottom (with Lockwood likely frowning the whole way down), as you rush into the basement. Lucy and George are standing by the ‘high security’ storage room, something unreadable and determined in their expressions. You rush forward, checking on both of them and giving each a hug after.

You flutter about them both, brows furrowed in worry, “Are you two alright? Are you hurt? Is everything—“

From behind you, Lockwood’s hands rest on your shoulders then rub up and down along your arms in a soothing gesture. “What’s happened?”

Lucy gives George a look, and he clears his throat to say, “We found something in the storage. I couldn’t see it that well, and Lucy—“

Lockwood, the absolutely reckless prick, was already making his way inside. You take a breath through your nose and follow right after him, sending reassuring smiles to Lucy and George as you step in. You whip back to glare at Lockwood’s head, ever the reckless hero he was.

“Lockwood don’t just walk in without even hearing about the situation.” You check a shelf for the sources you keep locked away, Lockwood taking the opposite. A quiet moment passes as you run a hand along the line of the shelf, trying to sense for anything out of the ordinary.

“Probably a Visitor took a break from being in one of our… usually foolproof containers.” He looks over a small, see-through box to check for any cracks or breakage.

You whip back to glare at him, feeling not only worried, but frustrated as well. “Which is exactly why you shouldn’t have just waltzed in, Anthony. This is exactly what I mean when I say you’re completely reckless sometimes—“

The door to the high security storage clicks closed, and you both startle. You make your way over to push the door open, but the lock is keeping it shut.

“Shit,” Lockwood rasps out. Yeah, that’s fair.

When you got home from the case that day, you didn’t think the rest of the night would be spent being locked in the basement storage for the next morning. After a quick argument with Lucy and George (who promised to be back whenever ‘you two (you and Lockwood) had stopped arguing and acting like idiots’) where they had insisted they wouldn’t be too far and to just yell for them if anything went wrong.

Now, Lockwood sat beside you with your backs to the door. Lucy had had the foresight to leave you behind with medical supplies, and you found one of George’s sticky notes on a tray of quick snacks. Messily scrawled in the way only George ever could, was Get yourselves together, thanks.

If getting yourselves in order and making up looked like awkward silence and Anthony’s self-soothing stretching and everything you did to self-soothe, then it was looking fantastic. Lockwood had yet to say anything but a few curses when he tried to open the door, though he’d given up half an hour in. Now it was just you two munching on biscuits in a semi-awkward silence.

“I meant it, you know,” He says suddenly, as you’re patching him up and cleaning his wounds. His eyes don’t mean yours when you look up, but you know what he means.

“It was a terrible time to suggest that kind of thing, Anthony,” You bite back, careful to dress his wrist properly.

“I meant it though.” He says sincerely; challengingly. He was always like this, baiting for you to fight back or ague for more, even if you could never tell why.

“Then we’d go on a date, do whatever it is people who like each other do, then I…” you rest your fingers over his open palm, and he slides his own in the spaces between yours “… I watch you throw yourself into danger— into sure death and just wait for either our talents to dry up or for either of us to die?”

“No,” he hums, peering at you through his long lashes, “Well, sort of, just—“

“What else, Anthony?”

“I wouldn’t word it like that.” He squeezes your hand and you purse your lips. Here you are with someone you love dearly wondering if the next time either of you go out there someone dies.

“Then how would you word it, Lockwood?” You want to hope, voice cracking under the weight of your need. Your soft heart lurches from the thick walls of your chest— through the ribs and the muscle and whatever the fuck else was there— reaching with its sharp claws for a scrap.

“We… go on a date. Because I like you and you like me, and because even without the problem hanging over us, we could die at any minute. I, for one, wouldn’t want to waste any of it I could have with you, now or after.” Like a ray of hope, the twinkle in his eyes. Like a ray of hope, that punchable, kissable grin. Your heart lurches and your breath stutters.

You take a free hand to tuck loose strands of his hair out of his face, humming, “How are you so sure I like you, Lockwood?”

“I don’t,” he admits sheepishly. He’s boyish like this, whispering and grinning at you with something not so cocky and infuriatingly cute. “Just a guess really.”

“George told you.” Even though you never told George.

“George did tell me he had a theory, yes… Backed it up with evidence and everything”

You glare at him for a moment, this ray of hope your heart has chosen to cling onto in these times and troubles, and find yourself faltering.

“One condition. Then we can go on however many dates you want for however long you’ll have me,” you offer, dropping your hands down to look proper into his face.

“Anything,” he says easily, shuffling closer to you.

“Try not to be so reckless. We can’t have you dying before even the first one— or any of them, understand?” You pinch his nose lightly, earning a gentle swat back from him.

“You have to try, too. I can’t lose you either.” He brings your hands to his lips, pressing kisses along each knuckle.

I love you goes unspoken, but he sees it in the way you smile so warmly at him, and you see it in the way he holds your hands like it’s the world. Not today, but maybe someday you will tell each other. Today you yell for George and Lucy to finally let you both out and face the world hand in hand.

A/N: I’m such a fan for the “couple who’s not yet a couple bicker endlessly with each other over every little thing” cause I find it so cute. I am a ‘love at first argument’ girlie to the core. Some of my most major crushes have been people I argue with near constantly. Also, because you didn’t anon specify I flipped a coin and it landed on (gn).

Side note: This is especially short because I’m still thinking on how to go about a few things I’m writing. Been having ideas for an angst fic for either Lockwood or Lucy (x reader, ofc) and continuing George’s series because I am deeply in love with him

#anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x reader #portie writes fanfic

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farfromrealitypls · 1 year

Text

Bound to falling in love

Summary: Helping out a friend- well, someone you knew. Let’s put it that way, turned out to affect your life more than you ever intended. And soon he’d actually become a friend and even more?

Warnings: mention of drugs, addiction, anxiety, language, making out

A/n: hey guys!!! I’m so sorry for not being active in so long! But now I’m back and to make it up to you, I already wrote some new stuff. I’m also working on a part 2 of “I care” since a lot of you seemed to like it. I love all of you guys and I hope you enjoy this one. Part 2 will be out tomorrow<33 Also please ignore the weird spacing in this, I couldn’t figure it out.

It was a beautiful morning in obx. You were in a light slumber, laying in your big bed between big white pillows and a huge blanket. Wearing nothing but a big T-shirt and panties. A light warm breeze softly hit your face through your open window and made the curtains dance in the wind. You could hear the birds chirping and the first sun rays peeked through the clouds. If you listened real closely you could even hear the waves from a far. What a peaceful morning.

That peacefulness disappeared abruptly when the doorbell rang. You let out a whine and scrunched your nose at that disturbing sound. You shifted your body but didn’t bother opening your eyes. But then it rang again. And again. And again…

“What the hell!?” You sat up with a grunt and ran your hand through your messy hair. Your threw the blanket off and dragged your grumpy self downstairs, eyes barely open. On your way down you heard loud knocking adding on to the obnoxious ringing.

“Someone better be dead” you mumbled to yourself.

You opened the door and standing there was Rafe Cameron.

“Wtf Rafe” you brought out, eyes half closed and annoyance written all over your face.

“Is Top here?”

“No? Why would he be?” You whined.

“He’s not home and I need to talk to him”

“Ok? So you decide to come here and terrorise me on my day off?” Was he serious? You didn’t bother trying to open your eyes more. You just wanted to go lay back down.

“Do you know where he is?”

He just walked past you, entering your house. Looking around like you were hiding Topper somewhere.

“Come in i guess” you shook your head in disbelief and closed the door.

“I need to find him” he said with a really serious tone.

Something was off. It’s Rafe, so it’s always something off, but this was different. You finally looked at him and let your tired eyes scan him. He looked like he hasn’t been sleeping in days. He had dark circles under his eyes and his eyes look even more insane that usual. He was glistening with sweat and kept fidgeting and continuously bit the inside of his cheek.

Rafe took a moment to get a good look of you too. His eyes wandered from your wild hair, to your puffy lips, down to your chest and then to your legs. You could see his lips turning into a small smirk. That’s when you realised you were standing in front of him with only a shirt and panties. Hair all messy and definitely no bra. It made you blush and you tried to pull your T-Shirt down a little further to cover up more of yourself and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Why? What’s so important?” You drew his attention back to your face.

“Doesn’t matter” He kept pacing back and forth.

You scoffed. The audacity of this man. You saw him mumbling something to himself and started to genuinely worry a little.

“Rafe are you ok? You look kinda miserable” you asked with a soft voice, tilting your head.

“I need to borrow some money from him” he stopped his pacing, but didn’t face you.

Money? That’s what all this drama is about? He is literally called “the kook prince” He had that nickname for a reason.

“For what?” You raised your eyebrows.

“I’m in debt with someone” He answered slowly. You expected the answer to be “a boat” or “a new bike” but debt actually sounded like a reallife problem.

“Rafe your dad owns half of this island. Ask him for money” you squeezed the bridge of your nose and really tried not to sound too unimpressed.

He remained silent for a bit before his eyes finally met yours again.

“He cut me off from all the money”

“Oh… well just tell whoever you owe money, to give you more time until you saved it up” you suggested, truly trying to insure him it’s not that big of a deal.

“I can’t! Fuck I can’t!” He raised his voice and threw his hands up. He started pacing again, biting his nails and his breathing fastened. This was definitely a big deal, you started to realise that he had to be in some deep shit and you honestly felt bad for him.

“Who the hell do you owe money?” You took a few steps towards him.

He zoned out and just stood there, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

“Rafe…” you softly pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Why is that important?” He shrug his shoulders and met your eyes. He looked so awfully tired.

“Because we will figure something out”

His expression softened and he gulped.

“Barry”

“Barry?!”

He was taken aback by your reaction and tried to figure out what it meant.

You sighed, turned around and left to go upstairs without a word.

“Where are you going?” He asked confused.

“Putting clothes on. And then we’ll go to Barry’s and fix your problem”

Rafe hesitated but you convinced him to trust you. He got into your jeep and you made your way to Barry’s. While driving you were rethinking your decision to help him. He was rude to you most of the time, he was arrogant and a coke snorting, spoiled rich kid. But the truth was, you never believed Rafe was as bad as everyone claimed. Sure he was an asshole, but many people were. You avoided and ignored him most of the time but you knew deep down he was just a little sad boy, with a shitty family and shitty friends. And something in the way he showed up at your house today, desperately needing help and miserable, made your heart ache. You looked over to him and he was playing with the ring on his finger, looking out the window. That’s when you noticed a really bad wound on his wrist. It looked like a burn mark and not a small one.

“What’s that on your wrist?” You asked concerned.

“I was late on a payment” he answered dry without facing you.

You frowned and tried to to get rid of the images of the scenario in your head. Now you really felt bad.

He didn’t say a word the whole ride and when Barry’s house appeared you heard him take a deep breath.

You parked the car.

“Stay here” you didn’t give him time to answer, you shut the door and walked towards Barry’s house. He scoffed at your bossy tone and then watched you disappear when Barry opened the door and let you in.

He didn’t take his eyes off the door the whole time you were gone. He chewed on his nails and went through a bunch of scenarios that could be happening right now.

Just when he decided to check on you, the door finally opened and you stepped out and made your way back to the car.

“Alright you’re good” you buckled yourself in.

“What?” He shifted in his seat to look at you better, clearly confused and waiting for details.

“You’re good. You don’t owe him anything anymore” you said proudly and gave him a warm smile.

Rafe let out a content sigh and leaned back in his seat, one hand pressed against his heart, eyes closed.

He opened them abruptly and turned to look at you again.

“You uh- you didn’t promise him any weird favours right?” He asked and stared into your soul.

You tilted your head in confusion.

“You know, you didn’t like suck him off for cash in there right?”

“Rafe that is called prostitution and is actually illegal.” You said with a giggle and couldn’t believe that that’s what worried him.

What Rafe didn’t know was that you knew Barry. Quite a long time actually. Not because you bought drugs from him, but because you were some what like friends. You hooked him up with a good paying job this one time and he owed you a favour for that. So you asked him to let Rafe go. He gave you this super long speech about how Rafe Cameron is a bad guy and he wasn’t worth it. It took some convincing but he finally agreed.

“No he actually owed me a favor. I helped him get an awesome job this one time and he had to make that one up”

You could see the relief on Rafes face and smiled at him.

“Thank you” he said quietly, smiling back at you.

“No problem. Do you want me to drop you off at your place?”

Rafe remained silent for a few seconds before he answered.

“My dad kicked me out” he took his eyes off you and looked down at his hands.

“Oh. I’m sorry” you didn’t wanna ask why. He already seemed upset.

“You can stay at my place if you want to. My parents won’t be home until next week” you offered with a soft smile.

“No it’s fine. You already got me out of a lot of shit” he shook his head.

“Whatever. I’ll take you to my place for now and if you decide to stay, you can” you put your car in drive and drove off. You glanced at Rafe, when you locked eyes with him he quickly took his eyes of you again.

You pulled into the driveway and then walked Rafe back to your house.

“Alright there is food in the fridge if you’re hungry. I gotta leave now tho, I’ll be back in a few hours”

“Where are you going? I thought it’s your day off?” He stood in front of you, hands in his pockets.

“Yeah but I’m volunteering at the hospital today”

“You-fuck. You know I swear if I look closely, I can see a fucking halo above your head.” He scoffed and pointed at your head.

“Yeah right” you chuckled and reached for the door handle.

“Y/n?”

You turned around to face him again and he stood there chewing on his bottom lip.

“I’m gonna get my shit together. I know everyone thinks I’m a fuck up, but imma get it together real tight.” He tapped his chest and stared into your eyes.

“I know you will. I believe in you” you said genuinely with a soft tone.

He nodded and gulped. And were those tears pooling in his eyes?

“I’ll start right now. I’ll figure something out” he stuttered and started pacing back and forth again.

You began to really feel bad for him, he was so broken and the fact he thought about himself as a fuck up hurt you.

“You should just rest Rafe. You’re tired. Give yourself some time and stop beating yourself up. It’s ok” you took a few steps towards him.

He stopped in his tracks and pressed his palms onto his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Come here” you opened your arms for a hug.

He looked at you and hesitated, you could see his eyes glistening with tears.

You decided to just go for it and went over to him and embraced him in a tight hug.

He just stood there akwardly and you could feel every muscle tensing up underneath your touch. You started to gently run your hand over his back and finally he slung his arms around you, squeezing you so tight that it almost hurt. He buried his face into the crook of your neck and you felt some tears hitting your skin. There you were, holding this huge man who obviously didn’t get hugged enough his whole life.

Suddenly he pulled away and you let him go.

“Fuck sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong, probably coming off my high you know” he was quick to wipe away the tears, ran his hand through his hair and straightened his spine. Now he looked really tall and intimidating again. Just like the Rafe Cameron you knew.

You weren’t offended by him trying to find excuses now. You knew he needed that.

“Get some sleep. The couch is actually super comfy and if it’s not, you can go upstairs in my room.” You went towards the door again and opened it.

He nodded and ran his ringed finger over his bottom lip.

“I gotta go” with that you closed the door behind you and got into your car.

When you drove back home after your day at the hospital, you didn’t expect Rafe to still be there. You already convinced yourself that this was a one time interaction with him and that he’s just going to be rude to you again. He’s gonna pretend like all this never happened and he’s gonna tell you to shut up about it too.

You opened the front door and threw your stuff on the floor, walking straight into the kitchen to grab some food. You grabbed some leftover pizza and made your way to the living room.

You almost dropped your plate when you saw a person laying on the couch. It was Rafe. You couldn’t help yourself but smile when you saw him sleeping so peacefully. He was laying on his stomach, face squished into a pillow and his huge arms tucked under it. He barely fit onto the couch. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, he was absolutely beautiful and the sight of him still being here gave you butterflies.

You quietly set your plate on the table and grabbed a blanket. You gently threw it over his body. While doing so, you accidentally kicked the table and you flinched at that sound. Rafe shifted his body.

“I’m so sorry. Go back to sleep” you whispered.

“Mhm” he didn’t open his eyes and just tucked himself in with the blanket.

You giggled and took your plate upstairs with you. You ate your pizza and went to sleep.

You woke up in the middle of the night and felt like you were gonna die of thirst, so you decided to go downstairs and grab some water. You grabbed a cup and it fell out of your hand into the sink. You mentally face palmed yourself and just hoped it didn’t wake Rafe for a second time. You told him to get some rest and now you’re the one disturbing his rest.

“Y/n?”

Shit. You thought to yourself.

You made your way over to him.

“I’m sorry. I swear I’m not doing this on purpose” you tried to convince him.

He was laying there, face still squished into the pillow and one arm hanging off the couch. Eyes still closed, he looked like he fell asleep again.

You turned to leave when he grabbed your arm. You looked down at where his huge hand wrapped around your wrist.

“Wait” his eyes were still closed.

“Can you stay?” He asked with a deep raspy voice, half asleep.

“No” you answered.

He let go of your wrist and opened his eyes to look at you. He nodded and quickly took his eyes off you again.

“But you can come upstairs with me” you giggled softly.

A huge smile crept on his face and you could see the relief in his eyes.

“It’s a little more comfortable than the couch” you added.

He got up and towered over you, running his hand through his messy hair. You could feel the heat radiating off him and it made your heat beat faster. He just looked down at you until you pushed past him and he followed you upstairs into your bedroom. You snuggled into your sheets and so did he. You weren’t touching but he was laying close enough so you could feel his body heat and hear his breathing. You hated to admit that it made you feel safe and calm. You fell asleep pretty fast but every once in a while his hand would accidentally brush against your arm or he would lay so close that you could feel his breath against your neck and it made your body feel like it’s on fire. Why did you feel like this? You tried to shove all those feelings into a mental box and burry it deep down, since he’s most likely gonna disappear in the morning.

#rafe cameron #rafe x y/n #obx #obx imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe obx #obx netflix #obx2 #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #obx fic #outer banks #rafe fic #rafe x reader #imagine #rafe angst #rafe fanfiction #obx fandom #rafe fluff

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ace-of-zaun · 4 months

Text

The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time: Pt. 8

Silco x f!reader - 7.6k words - SFW

cw: fluff, angst, anxiety/dread, injury, medical anxiety, health and illness, taking care of people, talk about self-defence and physical assault, get your seatbelts on lads we’ve got another emotional rollercoaster chapter, but with a fluffy ending bc it’s me

If someone had told kitchen-utensil-salesperson you that one day you’d be having to bribe the Eye of Zaun’s daughter, to keep her quiet about your relationship with said kingpin, you’d have laughed in their faces and told them to get lost.

But alas, here you were.

You’d had a long chat with Jinx about why you weren’t telling people and why she couldn’t tell anyone either. And after surprisingly little convincing from the two of you, Jinx had agreed to keep your secret… for a price. Sweets once a week for every week she kept it a secret.

Dear Janna, was this girl Silco’s daughter.

She’d also sweetened the deal by throwing in a few extra game nights every month, so that’s how you find yourself sitting at Silco’s desk, Jinx on your lap in the chair opposite his, as you play yet another round of Gun Bun.

Silco is, rather annoyingly, picking incredibly obnoxious words on purpose when it’s his turn, (seriously, how many nine-year-olds know the word egregious?) so you decide that this is the perfect opportunity to mess with him.

At first, you simply decide to spell all of your words wrong, irritating him just a little bit more with every line drawn as he fails to guess the correct letters.

Once he cottons on to that, correcting your spelling like a disappointed teacher, you move onto the next level…

You start making words up.

Jinx giggles and squirms about in your lap when you whisper your nefarious plan to her, earning a narrowed look of suspicion from your criminal(ly gorgeous) boyfriend.

Unfortunately, this tactic only works for one round, because when you finally complete the drawing of Mr. Bunny shooting a gun (complete with the obligatory BANG!) and Silco still hasn’t guessed all the letters, Jinx reveals the word with a menacing glee.

And Silco loses it.

“That is not a word,” he says, immediately glaring at you since you’re the obvious instigator.

He looks so grumpy and so adorably exasperated, you just want to kiss him until he forgets both his own name and just how difficult you like to make his life.

“It is!” you argue, staring at him whilst you valiantly battle against the urge to smile, before revealing, “I just made it up.”

His whole expression drops into the most incredulous deadpan.

“Darling.”

“What?” you counter. “All words are made up! It’s not my fault you can’t keep up with me.”

There’s a pause where Silco just stares at you, mismatched eyes glimmering with something just on the edge of dangerous.

You stare back, raising one cheeky eyebrow in challenge. That does it.

“I think it is best we retire for the evening,” he says, tone clipped and impatient, though his eyes never once leave yours.

Jinx whines in disappointment, climbing from your lap onto the desk just so she can launch herself into Silco’s lap. She clings to him like a kitten until he finally gives in to her and agrees to one more game, as long as it doesn’t involve any words.

Which of course means your absolute favourite activity in the whole, wide world. Drawing!

You teach them both a game you played as a child, one where a piece of paper is folded three times, in a way where you can only see one section at a time.

The first person secretly draws the head and shoulders, with some lines over the fold into the next section so the second person can join it up. They then flip it over to the next section, where the second person draws the torso and arms, while the last person then draws legs and feet, making sure to keep your separate drawings hidden until the very end, where you reveal the character you’ve all made together.

You go first to demonstrate, drawing the head of a smiling girl that looks a little bit like Jinx (you know, if Jinx were a squiggly, blue doodle).

After Jinx and Silco have both drawn their sections, you open up the paper and spread it flat on the desk, revealing, to Jinx’s delight, an absolute monstrosity of a character.

Underneath your smiling face, Jinx has doodled a thin torso with long spaghetti arms that loop round and round until their hands rest on their hips. But it’s nothing compared to Silco drawing his own boots and somehow forgetting that he needed to draw legs as well.

You play this game for a few rounds, until it’s Silco’s turn to draw first. Except he takes a millennium, sketching with his pen like he’s in the middle of an art class. But it’s only when you spot him gently rocking the chair from side to side, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye, that you realise he’s trying to lull Jinx to sleep.

And surprisingly, it works, humming quietly under his breath until she falls asleep in his lap, adorably curled up with her face against his chest.

Once he’s certain that she’s fast asleep, he lifts his head to give you a knowing look before carefully lifting her and carrying her back to her bedroom. You take the look to mean that you should get changed into your pyjamas so you can both cuddle up when he returns from putting her to bed.

But when you stand up from your chair, groaning as you stretch your tired body towards the rafters, you take a moment to peek at Silco’s drawing, sliding the paper over the varnished wood until you can finally see.

And you swear your heart melts in your chest when you look down at it. A portrait of you, looking happier than you’ve ever seen yourself looking. At least, up until you’d moved in with Silco. Now, you’re pretty sure you look like this most of the time.

You’ve begun to stay in his bedroom a few nights a week, usually when he doesn’t stay up working until dawn like a madman.

Your (imaginary) spy training has gotten a real workout every morning, ensuring no-one sees you make the dash back to your own bedroom, then getting dressed to go and meet Silco in his office like you hadn’t spent the whole night in his bed.

Honestly, part of you wonders if it would just be easier to move some of your clothes into his bedroom, but you’re not sure if he’d want that. The man does have a lot more clothes than you do.

And what if he’s not ready for you to both officially move in together? How would you even approach asking? Should you just do it and blame the goblins when he asks if you put them there? (They’re cheeky little bastards, you know, they’ve stolen enough of your socks from the washing machine.)

You’re just preparing to leave the office, peering around the corner of the doorway to make sure there’s no-one in sight. You’d left the kingpin snoring in his bed just moments ago, and it’s far too early for Sevika to be anywhere near The Drop, so you’re pretty confident you’re not gonna be caught.

Crouching down a little feels like a good, sneaky spy move, so you bend your knees slightly, duck your head, and begin to tip-toe down the hallway as quietly as you can.

And honestly, even after only a few steps in, you’re genuinely starting to feel like you could break into one of those fancy art museums Topside and complete the heist of the century. That is, until a low voice calls out behind you.

“What in Janna’s name are you doing?”

Janna herself would be proud of the way you hold in the blood-curdling scream that threatens to erupt from your vocal folds.

Instead of waking up everyone in the entirety of Zaun and probably some of Piltover, you clutch your chest and hiss out a wheezing, “Holy fucking fuck-”

You spin around to glare at Silco who is standing in the doorway to his office, coffee cup in hand as he leans nonchalantly against the frame.

How didn’t you hear him sneak up? And how the hell did he manage to wake up from being borderline comatose AND make himself a coffee in such a short amount of time?

You squint at him suspiciously as if that’ll make him reveal all his secrets. Maybe he should be the spy…

Silco looks rather amused as he watches you.

“Has anyone ever informed you that you possess quite the potty mouth?” he asks, in that raspy morning voice that is far too hot for its own good.

“Has anyone ever informed you that it’s rude to try to give your girlfriend a heart attack on purpose?” you shoot back.

He holds his free hand to his t-shirt clad chest in mock offence.

“I can assure you, my love, I was attempting no such thing,” he protests with the guiltiest look you’ve ever seen in your whole entire existence.

You point at him as a threat.

“Boy, don’t test me. I’ll take you out of my will.”

Silco’s face drops into a faux upset, slapping one hand against his cheek dramatically.

“Oh no, whatever will I do without your collection of novelty ice-cream scoops?” he questions sardonically.

You return it with an overexaggerated gasp, (but deep down you’re secretly pleased he’s starting to play along with your melodrama; oh how the turn tables).

“How dare you!” you exclaim, throwing both hands up to cage your poor, shattered heart, before you turn your nose up to sniff haughtily. “That’s it, I’m breaking up with you.”

Silco swiftly downs the last of his coffee and then tosses the mug onto the sofa behind him blindly, instantly changing your mind on what you just said.

How the fuck did he do that without it breaking into a million pieces? And more importantly, how is he easily the hottest man in the world?

“I think not,” he practically growls, stepping forward into the corridor.

“You can’t stop me,” you announce loftily. “Me and the Scoop Troop are outta here.”

He advances on you slowly until he’s leaning down to speak into your ear, the roughness in his timbre sending a shiver down your spine.

“Then I suppose I shall have to convince you to stay.”

Abruptly, Silco leans down to pick you up, deftly swinging you up into a bridal carry, forcing you to try your best not to squeal and accidentally wake everybody up.

Then, he turns on his heel and carries you back in his office, kicking the door shut behind you as you giggle breathlessly into his chest.

Maybe the reason you look so much happier now after moving in with Silco, is because you are.

Of course, spy training in the mornings is not the only kind of training you embark on.

True to his word, Silco begins to teach you self-defence after the multiple attacks you’ve endured since accepting the job as his negotiator. (To be fair, you’d endured some during your time at the market stall too, but that had been at a significantly lower danger level compared to this.)

So you’re in the bar one early afternoon, a few of the tables pushed out of the way to give you room to properly move about. Silco has given strict orders that no-one is to enter the bar until you’re finished, which had earned a huff of annoyance from Sevika, who would be forced to take the long-winding emergency exit in and out of the building.

Standing across from Silco in the cleared space, you ready yourself to learn some basic defence, hoping it’ll trump your current tactic of just running away really, really fast… (okay, fine, a moderate jog at best).

You’d hoped to learn how to properly use the knife Silco had gifted you in the market, excitedly bringing it along in the hopes that he’ll show you some cool moves.

But he’d confiscated it the very second you’d taken it out of the box and nearly dropped it on your own foot, blade down.

So… self-defence it is, for now.

Your boyfriend (smoking hot; an utter bitch; an absolute icon) stands opposite you, hands clasped behind his back as he talks.

“Today I will show you some basic movements that will allow you to disengage if an attacker were to grab onto you,” he explains, reminding you of your old geography teacher (who was also your everything-teacher because, you know, Zaun). “Then, depending on how well you-”

Silco continues to tell you his lesson plan in detail, but honestly, you stop listening the second you notice that his shirt sleeves are rolled up. And he’s wearing a different waistcoat. It looks a little older than the usual ones he wears, but it’s still hot. Really accentuates his slutty little waist.

Your cheeks get warm just thinking about it.

Is it hot in here or is it just you?

And gods, isn’t he pretty with his hair a little bit messy, those dark waves just the tiniest bit mussed up. And wouldn’t he look even prettier if you ran your hands through it and maybe put your lips on-

“Are you listening?” Silco cuts in.

Your head snaps up to meet his gaze, positively startled at the interruption.

“Yes, sir,” you blurt out.

He smirks in response which does not help your predicament in the slightest.

“Very well,” he nods, bringing both hands to rest on his hips. “We will begin by learning a disengagement technique that would be useful if somebody were to-”

You swear you’re trying to listen.

Honestly.

But that voice. And the way his lips move when he talks.

And fuck, it’s hot when his throat bobs when he swallows and-

“Are you ready?”

Uh oh, you did it again.

“Huh?” you mutter, dragging your gaze away from his throat.

“I said, are you ready to try the movements I just explained?” Silco asks, raising one eyebrow expectantly.

“Of course I am,” you scoff confidently, despite having not listened to a single word he’s just said. “I’m practically a cage fighter at this point. I could take you down faster than you could say 2-in-1 decarboxylator and herb infuser.”

He doesn’t ask. In fact, he’s stopped asking what the hell you’re talking about when you’re both busy because it more often than not just leads to a twenty minute monologue, which he’s more than happy to listen to as you lie in bed together. But not when you’re about to learn important skills like how to defend yourself in a fight.

“Alright then, show me,” Silco responds, stepping closer to you to do whatever the hell he’s been talking about for the last five minutes.

Suddenly, he reaches out and grabs a handful of your shirt with one hand, scrunching it up right next to your collarbone.

Your body jolts forward slightly with the motion, eyes flicking up to gawp at him in alarm.

But instead of flipping you over his shoulder and breaking your spine (you assume that was the intent), Silco just looks down at you, waiting patiently for you to make your move.

Of course, you have no idea what you’re doing (ever), so you just stand there like a rat in headlights, staring up at him in awe.

“Grab onto your shirt like I told you, darling,” he instructs softly when you still don’t do anything.

“It’s okay, you can have it if you want,” you whisper back in a daze.

“No, grasp the fabric with this hand,” he says, gently guiding your hand to fist the material, right next to where his hand is still holding onto it. “And then grab onto my wrist with your other hand.”

You do and suddenly, you feel like you’re in a sauna.

Why’s he grabbing your shirt like that? And how in the actual fuck can somebody’s wrist be so goddamn hot?

“Now pull your shirt away from me with your hand and push my wrist away with the other,” Silco continues, seemingly unaware of how flustered you are.

Oh, so that’s what he’s trying to get you to do.

You hesitate for a moment, blankly staring at his arm. Only then does Silco notice your reticence, but he must put it down to nerves because the grip on your shirt lessens slightly.

“It’s alright, my love, just try your best,” he tells you soothingly.

You smile up at him, utterly dazzled by his… him-ness.

“Okay.”

You just want to impress him. To make your silly little guy as proud of you as you are of him.

So you try your best…

Which of course means putting way too much power into it.

With absolutely zero warning, you shove him away from you at the same time as you rip your shirt from his grasp, the force causing you to stumble and trip yourself up on your feet. Instinctively, you reach out and grab onto Silco’s waistcoat, pulling him down with you.

He just about manages to catch the back of your head before it smacks against the floor, but can’t save himself from crashing down on top of you.

Your fingers stay latched onto him as he leans up to check on you, hand still cupping the back of your head protectively.

“Are you alright?” he asks frantically, rapidly looking over you for any injuries.

Your brain must have short-circuited because in lieu of answering, you simply gaze up at him in shock.

The fall appears to have knocked some of his hair loose, now hanging down over his forehead in strands, and sweet Janna, this should be a crime.

It’s not fair. How are you supposed to do anything or even think straight with this?

Silco cups your cheek and calls your name, clearly panicked.

“Can you hear me?”

It’s too much for your poor heart, so give you in and press your lips against his in a passionate kiss.

Silco freezes for a split second before letting out a startled, hmpf!

He moves back, breaking the kiss to hold both of your hands against the floor to stop you from leaning up.

“Darling, this is serious! You cannot kiss me in the middle of training,” he huffs, exasperated.

You hope the puppy-dog eyes will earn you your forgiveness.

“But you’re just so cute.”

He sighs, head hanging down low for a brief second before he meets your gaze again.

“Are you injured?”

“No. Are you?”

Silco appears to be relieved, but also a little perplexed.

“I’m fine, darling. How did you lose your balance so easily?” he asks. “It was supposed to be a simple manoeuvre.”

“I uh… I got distracted,” you say bashfully.

Please don’t read my mind. Please don’t read my mind. Please don’t read my mind.

Luckily, he just runs a hand through his hair, trying to put it back in place. He fails spectacularly.

“You cannot get distracted in a fight, you must be vigilant at all times,” he tells you, like he’s trying to be stern.

You take no notice.

“Even if the person I'm fighting is ridiculously hot?”

Silco ignores the question (despite the fact that the tips of his ears are turning the loveliest shade of red) and continues pretending to be strict.

“Let’s try getting out of this hold,” he says. “What do you think would be the best way to escape from this position?”

You don’t even bother looking for a way to escape, still too focused on giving some love to your mans.

Leaning up as far as you can, you deliver a quick kiss to his nose, which, to your absolute delight, only makes him blush even more.

He says your name as a scold.

“What did I just say?”

You toss your head to the side and whine, rumbling your legs a little against the floor like a child.

“Why can’t I just do this if someone attacks me? I feel like it’s kinda working.”

“Do what?” Silco asks with a frown.

“Kiss them.”

And gods, you swear the noise that emanates from his chest is a growl.

“Absolutely not,” he grunts, pressing himself slightly closer to you until you involuntarily squeak.

Silco releases his grip on your hands and climbs off of you, helping you to stand up so he can dust off your trousers.

Over the course of the next hour, he does actually teach you one or two methods to escape someone’s grasp, but perhaps more usefully, he explains that it’s better to focus on prevention of attacks, rather than relying on moves that you’re probably going to forget when filled with adrenaline.

But just knowing that you’ll have both a slew of bodyguards and a little bit of knowledge in self-defence makes you feel a bit more confident, which was probably the only reason you agreed to learn in the first place.

Of course, the impromptu lesson ends when you trip again and nearly break your nose falling into a table, this time when you’re only trying to get a glass of water.

Being led carefully back upstairs by Silco, he exhaustedly suggests that training takes place in his office from now on, to which you ask if you can be wrapped up entirely in bubble wrap in what you would call your Safety Suit.

You get no response, which in your books is not strictly a no, so you make a mental note to add an industrial amount of bubble wrap to the next product order you fill out.

Lacing your fingers with his, you give him the biggest, most affectionate smile as you follow him upstairs to the shower, wondering just how in the hell you got so lucky.

It’s only a few weeks later that Jinx gets sick, somehow catching a head cold that thankfully isn’t too concerning, just a bit of a temperature that puts her in bed for a few days.

Although, much like her father, she's incredibly demanding. Which of course only multiplies tenfold the second she starts to feel under the weather, insisting either you or Silco be with her all day every day. So the two of you take shifts, juggling paperwork, meetings, and spending time with Jinx, as well as trying to look after yourselves.

It works for a few days, distracting Jinx when she gets bored or frustrated, coercing her to eat and drink, the three of you even spending time together to discuss her new invention ideas while she’s stuck in bed.

Then, it all goes downhill from there.

You’re on Jinx duty one afternoon, down in the kitchen and in the middle of making her a warm drink when a loud commotion erupts from the bar. Your head pops curiously around the door frame only to be greeted with the sight of utter chaos; a slew of the club’s bouncers and Silco’s usual bodyguards frantically rushing through the club.

For a brief second, you wonder if there’s a security convention happening that you hadn’t been made aware of.

But the moment you spot the Doctor slinking through doors and up the stairs towards Silco’s office, your heart drops in your chest.

He’s supposed to be at a meeting right now with Sevika, across town.

Or will it have finished by now? Would he have had time to walk all the way back to The Drop?

Fuck, what if something happened during the meeting?

Desperately trying to keep the panic at bay, you slip through the crowd and up the stairs, all the while hoping you’ll find your boyfriend in his office as normal, pacing in front of the window like he usually does when there’s been a hitch in the plans.

But when you reach the doors, you find two more burly guards blocking the entrance.

You suck in a breath of air and take measured steps down the corridor until you’re standing in front of them.

“Hey guys, I need to talk to Silco,” you say as calmly as possible, pointing to the door behind them.

“Sorry, can’t let you in,” one of them says, barely even sparing you a glance.

You frown.

“Why? What’s happened?” you ask, trying to hide the wobble in your voice. Then, at the risk of sounding too involved, “Is he okay?”

“There’s been an incident,” the other grunts.

You hold in the urge to scream and respond as courteously as you can given the situation.

“Yes, I gathered that, but it’s really important that I talk to him.”

The guards barely look at you, as if you’re just a fly buzzing in front of them.

“Sorry. Protocol.”

Your fists clench at your sides.

He’s your partner, for Janna’s sake!

For all you know, something terrible could’ve happened and these two chumps are treating you like you’re the maid! As a matter of fact, you’re pretty sure you rank higher than these two in the pecking order anyway.

You put on your meanest face and glare up at them, channelling all your Eye of Zaun energy.

“Look, I don’t give a rat’s arse about protocol, I need to see him right-”

Even just the mention of protocol reminds you of Jinx, who you’d completely forgotten about in all the hubbub.

Your mouth drops open and you spin on your heel mid-sentence, racing down the corridor to her bedroom. Footsteps land heavily on the floor until you’re bursting through into her room the instant your fingers grasp the handle.

Jinx is completely fine, albeit a little startled at your dramatic entrance, sitting up in bed where you’d left her. You almost collapse in relief.

“You were gone for ages!” she complains with a huff, until her eyes land on your empty hands and her face screws up, whining, “Hey, where’s my hot choccy milk?”

You rush to her side, gently soothing back the sweaty hair from her forehead with your hand.

“I’m sorry, pumpkin, I forgot,” you attempt to placate her. “I’ll make one for you in a little bit.”

Her annoyance fades and you just see the worry overtake her expression as she examines you, eerily similar to her father.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.”

She isn’t buying it.

“Yeah there is,” Jinx scowls, even crossing her arms against her chest to show you she really means business. “Don’t lie to me, I’m not a little kid anymore.”

You sigh. What the hell are you meant to tell her? You don’t even know what’s going on.

“There’s just been… a little bit of an incident, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. We’re safe here,” you try to say reassuringly.

“Where’s Dad?”

“He’s just trying to sort everything out,” you reply. “I’m sure he won’t be long.”

Gods, you hope that’s the case.

Honestly, you feel awful lying to her, but you have no idea what’s happening yourself. So right now, you both need to stay as calm as possible.

You sit with her for however long, keeping both Jinx and yourself distracted with a game while you internally battle with yourself to stop the worry from overtaking you.

It’s probably only a few minutes, but it feels like it’s been hours when the door finally opens and Sevika enters, automatically throwing a grimace towards Jinx.

Of course, Jinx isn’t Sevika’s greatest friend on the best of days, but now that she’s sick, it’s entirely worse. She throws the covers over her head and groans in retaliation.

“Boss wants to see you,” Sevika announces, looking directly at you, thankfully ignoring Jinx’s outburst.

Hope flutters in your chest for a split second. If he wants to see you, that means he’s awake and more than likely talking.

But you can’t really ask the six million questions that are running through your brain with Jinx here listening. And you also can’t really leave her with Sevika, unless you want the entire room to be destroyed.

“Can you fetch Ran for me?” you ask, begging the woman with your eyes whilst keeping your tone neutral. “I can’t leave Jinx on her own.”

Sevika sneers, clearly annoyed.

Then, you watch as she considers Jinx (still hiding under the covers), and probably considers being the one to watch over her for the foreseeable.

Without another word, she promptly turns on her heel and walks out the room.

The whole time you’re waiting for her return, Jinx pesters you to let her see her Dad, but you make her promise that she’ll stay in bed until he gives the okay.

Luckily, Sevika is back within minutes, Ran in tow, who silently reclines in the furthest chair from her bed. You explain to Jinx that you’ll be back soon, and encourage her to tell Ran about all her new invention ideas.

And the very moment you’ve shut the door to her bedroom, Sevika pauses outside, presumably to update you on the situation.

But your anxiety immediately gets the better of you and you sprint down the hall like a madman, too nervous to even wait a few seconds.

Vaguely, you hear Sevika mutter, “Don’t know why I fucking bother,” as you speed away, but you’ll have to apologise to her later.

You need to see him now.

When you arrive at Silco’s office, the guards move to the side in preparation, although they do manage to look the tiniest bit alarmed when you burst through the doors yelling, “I just really love paperwork!” and kick the door shut behind you.

Hopefully that’ll quench any suspicions they might have.

Silco is clearly not in his office, so the next port of call is his bedroom, of which you slam the door open and tumble into the room, hanging onto the door knob for dear life when the motion threatens to send you sprawling across the floor.

From his bed where he’s laid out, Silco’s eyes widen in bewilderment, jolting back against the pillows his head is propped up on.

Your fingers grip the door handle while your eyes fill with tears, gasping at the sight of him.

It’s hard not to miss the stained bandage around his thigh, missing waistcoat, and filthy, rumpled clothes. And the fact that he’s much paler than usual.

You feel sick.

“Sil…”

“I’m fine, darling,” he attempts to mollify you, shifting about as he tries to sit up.

“No, no, don’t move,” you choke out.

You rush over to him, uncaring of the way your knees crack against the ground when you heavily drop beside his bed.

“What-” you swallow the knot in your throat, shakily willing the tears away. “What happened?”

A hand reaches out to comfort him, but you hesitate, hovering above his arm.

The last thing you want to do is accidentally hurt him.

Silco grasps your hand with his, firmly intertwining your fingers together. But you beat him to it, bringing his hand to your mouth to gently kiss his knuckles.

“An individual attacked us on our way back to the club,” he explains, two-toned eyes focused on where your mouth rests on the skin of his hand.

You look up at him, brow furrowed.

“An individual? Did you see what they looked like?”

“No, they were masked and escaped before Sevika or I could apprehend them,” he replies, voice clearly tired and groggy.

You want to ask why the hell they were alone without any guards, but you know he’ll just get huffy about it. Something about being able to look after himself.

Your hand runs over your face as you sigh.

“Do you think it was one of the gangs?”

That’d be the most obvious set of culprits.

“It could be, or it could be a lone fanatic who disagrees with my policies,” Silco replies. “We will conduct a thorough investigation and in the meantime security measures will be tripled, you and Jinx included.”

“What did the Doctor say?”

“The usual,” he says, avoiding eye contact as his gaze trails to your clasped hands once more. If there’s one thing that Silco hates, it’s talking about his own health and wellbeing. “The Shimmer injections should speed things along.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before cutting in with a question of his own.

“How is Jinx?”

“She’s fine, worried about you,” you tell him, squeezing his hand in comfort.

Suddenly, your eyes meet his, filling with tears once more as your mind begins to spiral.

What if-

You cut off that train of thought immediately, letting go of his hand and leaning forward to lightly rest your forehead against his side.

“Oh, Sil,” you mumble shakily into the creased fabric of his shirt.

“Come here, darling,” he says, gently pushing you to sit back up.

You look up to see him patting the space beside him, the side you usually sleep on.

“But I don’t want to hurt you,” you protest weakly.

“You won’t,” he says with resolve.

You only hesitate for a moment longer before standing up and making your way around the bed, gingerly climbing onto your side.

Silco quickly reaches for you and pulls you over to him, laying your head against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You’re careful not to lean on him too heavily.

And gods dammit, as you lie there cocooned in his arms, those tears slowly and silently leak out against your will, soaking into his burgundy shirt.

“I was so worried,” you begin, hoping he can’t detect the wobble in your voice. “I… I thought…”

“Shh, my love,” he hums into your hair. “I’m here now.”

You allow yourself to relax in his presence, beyond thankful that he’s here and he’s alive, even if he’s injured.

You’ll take care of him every single day until he’s better. And even after that too. For as long as he wants you.

But as much as you want to stay in his arms right now, reassuring yourself with each inhale and exhale of breath that levers your head on his chest, you have to get up.

“Where are you going?” Silco protests when his arms slip away from you.

“I need to check on Jinx,” you explain, reluctantly climbing off the bed with a sniff. “Plus, it might look a bit suspicious if I spend too long in here. Might start a few rumours.”

Silco frowns when you stand at the foot of the bed and straighten your clothes, scrubbing a hand over your face to wipe away the tears.

“Bring Jinx here, then you can stay as long as you like,” he says, almost with a pout.

You try not to smile at the way he sounds like a little boy trying to get out of bedtime

“She’s still in bed,” you explain. “Plus, she’ll get upset if she sees that you’re hurt. I’ll send Sevika back in to watch over you.”

Silco doesn’t look convinced, so you wander over to his side again.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come back later,” you say, kissing his forehead tenderly.

He catches your hand before you can leave, smirking a little.

“Why can’t you tell everyone you’re my nurse?” he asks, that mischief still lurking despite the exhaustion. “Then you could spend the night here, no questions asked.”

You tug your hand out of his grasp, glaring down at him in faux annoyance.

“If you weren’t already injured, I would actually smack you right now,” you threaten.

“Sounds lovely,” he grins, reaching for your hand until you dance out of his reach with a yelp.

You begin to walk towards the door.

“Stay in bed, you menace. And don’t do anything I would do!” you call out over your shoulder as you leave, exiting the room before you do anything stupid (like offering to give him a sponge bath just because you want to take his shirt off).

And as you go, you pray to Janna that this period of recovery with Silco’s injury is not going to be a trial. The last thing you need right now is any more stress.

The period of recovery is a trial.

But did you honestly expect anything less with Silco as your patient?

Luckily, his leg begins to heal fairly quickly, no doubt thanks to the Shimmer injections. But it still takes a bit of time until he can get back to work as normal.

After checking up on Jinx, you find out from Sevika that the Doctor had actually ordered bed rest until he gives the okay. Which is a relief at first because it means that you can bully Silco into properly resting for once in his life.

Except, that means you have to take over the brunt of the meetings and paperwork.

Between the worry about both Jinx and Silco’s recoveries, and having to carry most of the business, you think you’re losing your mind.

You continue to take care of Jinx, as well as Silco, who are both the whiniest, most demanding two people you’ve ever met when they’re sick.

Jinx hates that she can’t visit Silco in case she gives him an infection and bugs you constantly about going to see him. And Silco borderline whines every time you stop him from getting out of bed to ‘just smoke one cigar and fill in one shipping manifest at his desk’.

Yeah, no.

More often than not, you’re running between the two of them, perpetually washing your hands and making sure your mask is secure on your face.

Sometimes you’ll briefly stop on the way to inhale a snack. Sometimes you’ll shove your face under the sink taps and get both a drink and a wash at the same time. Other times you try not to scream into the nearest pillow or cushion in fear of accidentally losing your voice.

This time, you’ve just finished putting Jinx to bed (a battle far more ferocious than probably any battle in history, ever), and you’re now on your way to check on Silco, ready for his new evening routine.

Check stitches. Clean wound. Re-bandage. Give medicine. Give food. Check he’s actually taken medicine. Give drink. Find a new book for him to read because he’s bored, darling.

But instead of finding him laying in bed, plucking his comb like it’s a musical instrument, he’s standing up (barely) and clutching to the dresser.

You watch incredulously as he attempts to tug his trousers over his injured leg, sweating, pale, and clearly out of breath.

“Are you serious right now?”

He looks up, lips pulling into the tiniest smile at the sight of you.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he greets warmly, before going back to the task at hand.

You think your head is going to explode.

“What are you doing?” you ask dumbly.

The tray of his food and meds are placed on the bedside table, while Silco continues to wrestle with his trousers. Frankly, he looks ridiculous, pyjama top still on, trousers halfway up one leg as the other gets stuck on his ankle over and over again.

“I have a meeting,” he informs you, as if that’s an explanation.

You look up to the ceiling like you’ll find a piece of your sanity on it. There’s definitely no meetings scheduled in the diary.

Dear gods, if he’s got a fever now and is hallucinating, you think you might just evaporate.

“What meeting?”

Silco decides not to give you any details and instead just calmly states,

“It is very important. I must attend.”

Then, he carries on trying to get dressed like he wasn’t stabbed in the leg only a week earlier.

You can almost visualise the stress levels rising in your body; the jug about to overflow and spill out of you.

What you should probably do right now is carefully help him back into bed and fetch Sevika so you can all decide on the best solution to this dilemma.

But you’re human, so you let your emotions get the better of you instead.

“No.”

Silco has the gall to look surprised.

“I beg your pardon?” he asks, genuinely shocked at your directness.

“I said no, now get back in bed,” you say, moving over to him to help him take off those stupid trousers and put his pyjamas back on.

He must not understand how serious you are right now because he continues to gently protest.

“Darling, I appreciate-”

“Silco,” you cut him off, tears filling your eyes as you arrive in front of him, looking him dead in the eye. Your voice is shockingly quiet and precise. “I need you to get back in bed or I think I am actually, seriously going to lose it.”

He looks startled, shuffling forward to comfort you.

“Sweetheart-”

“Please, Silco,” you cut him off, your voice cracking with the words.

Silco appraises you for a moment, watching your tense body and distraught face.

Finally, he speaks.

“Alright,” he concedes quietly, mismatched eyes full of concern.

He manages to step out of his trousers and you help him hobble back over to the bed, pulling up the covers so he can get under the sheets.

And once he’s comfortably sat up against the headboard, he opens his mouth to speak again, eyes watching you carefully the whole time.

You don’t let him.

You lean forward, kiss his cheek, and then step away.

“Please eat this,” you say, nodding to the tray on his bedside table. “I’m going to check on Jinx and then I will be back to change your bandage.”

Your footsteps out the room are measured and by the time he calls your name, asking you to wait, you’re already out the door. But you can’t stop walking because if you do, you’ll burst into tears…

Which is exactly what happens after you check on Jinx.

You’re just on your way back to Silco’s bedroom when one of the employees stops you in the corridor to say that a warehouse has been raided, meaning a bunch of stock has been stolen.

You politely thank her for letting you know, ask her to inform Sevika, take a sharp turn into your bedroom, and break down sobbing.

Truthfully, you’re not sure how long you spend kneeling on the floor next to your bed, face down as you cry into the sheets.

But it must be long enough because the door opens and a set of limping footsteps shuffle towards you.

He sits down on the bed and gently - soothingly - runs his fingers through your hair.

There’s a sharp intake of breath between each word, but you somehow manage to heave out, “You… should… be… in… bed,” sobbing the last word until it’s completely unintelligible.

“I know, my love, I know,” Silco consoles you.

He delicately encourages you to get up and get into bed, following you under the covers despite there barely being enough room for the both of you.

Once he’s reassured you that you’re not hurting his leg, you let him hold you in his arms, rubbing your back until you stop crying.

You have a killer headache. And a big part of you feels bad for letting him comfort you when it should be the other way round.

“Do you know why I gave you this bedroom when I first asked you to work and live here?” he eventually mumbles into your hair.

You sniffle. “No, why?”

“It’s the only one with a single bed.”

Slowly, you pull back to look at him in disbelief.

“What?”

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t invite anyone over,” he explains nonchalantly, like any sane person would invite you to live with them and give you the tiniest bed ever, just because he was jealous of even the thought of you having a partner.

You huff a laugh and his lips quirk into a smile in response.

“There was never anyone to invite over,” you say. “Plus, it doesn’t really make sense to invite someone over when they already live with you.”

Silco watches you affectionately. He cups your cheeks and leans forward to capture your lips in the slowest, most tender kiss.

Your eyes flutter closed and you whisper against him, “You’re injured.”

“My lips are perfectly fine,” he mumbles back.

You gently whack him on the arm.

“Silly boy.”

He smirks (the one that still gives you butterflies) and steals another kiss before cuddling up to you again.

“Thank you for looking after everything for me,” he says over your shoulder. “In truth, I am not quite sure what I would do without you.”

“I don’t know how you do it all, I feel like one of those stretchy dolls being pulled in every direction until they snap,” you snort, scrubbing a hand over your face.

“You’re doing wonderfully, my sweetheart. I am continually astounded by your unwavering strength and compassion,” Silco tells you.

Then, he blows an amused breath of air out of his nose, like he can’t quite believe whatever he’s thinking. “It’s no wonder I-”

He pauses, whole body suddenly tense in your arms.

You wait patiently for him to continue, squeezing him a little bit tighter in reassurance.

“Hmm?”

Silco eventually lets out a shaky exhale, simultaneously relaxing into your touch, almost like he’s melting into your warmth.

“I know that you will be just fine. We will be just fine,” he says.

You hum again, feeling yourself drifting off to sleep with each looping circle traced on your skin.

Deep down, you know you’ll have to go fetch him some water and his first aid supplies when you wake. You’ll sit in your armchair beside your own bed until he wakes up from some much needed rest.

But he’s worth it. He’s worth the crick in your neck, and the reduced hours of sleep, and the overwhelming stress.

He’s worth it all.

Because you love him.

a/n: did anyone else play the folded paper drawing game or was it just me??

edit: i just googled it and the game is called Exquisite Corpse 😭

edit edit: so i’m currently trying to plot out the rest of this story so there’ll hopefully be fewer breaks between chapters (it was only meant to be a one-shot lmao), wish me luck my lieges 🙏 if you’re still reading this daft story after all this time, ily. if you’re new, welcome ily

#silco #silco x reader #silco x f!reader #silco x you #silco fic #silco arcane #part 8

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