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#number 6 x reader
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Feel Your Insides
Summary: Ben tries so hard to control himself, but it's so hard when you let him in Pairings: Yandere! Sparrow! Ben Hargreeves x Fem! Reader Tw: Light Dubious Consent, NSFW, Alcohol, Mean! Jayme, Mentioned! Tentacle stuff, Flirty Ben
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He needed to get out of the house. He didn't care where he went, he just needed to get away. So, why was he standing outside of a familiar girl's apartment as she struggled with getting the door open. It all started a few weeks ago-
---
He wanted to drink, so he went to a local pub and that's when he saw her. She was sitting by herself with a few glasses on the table infront of her. Maybe it was the drinks, but Ben was thinking she was looking awful pretty with the pink, blue, and yellow lights shinning on her face.
He was about to approach her, but then he realized that he was a fairly big dude and she's a smaller girl by herself and him approaching her would be totally creepy. Though, that thought quickly disappears when the alcohol hits. He orders a Martina before heading towards you.
He puts the Martina on the table, scooting it towards you, causing you to look up at him. You were nervous, obviously. You recognized him as one of those superhero academy kids- Well, they weren't kids, but you know... Was it Umbrella Academy; No, it was Sparrow. Why would it be Umbrella. The thought made you laugh, 'Umbrella. How stupid of a name that would be for an academy.'
"Hey," He awkwardly waved and you repeated the action. He sat next to you and watched all the club goers. It was a nice silence, between you two, something Ben wasn't used too.
It was awkward on your part, but you didn't want to get up and leave, because that would be rude. You also didn't want to tell him to move, because you didn't own the couch and he could sit wherever he wanted.
"Nice weather, huh?"
You couldn't help but laugh at his attempt at small talk. He must have been just as nervous as you. You looked over at him, "Yeah. I guess if you like the pouring rain."
He awkwardly rubs his neck, "Do you like the rain?"
"Yeah. When I don't have to drive."
He scoots closer to you and you copy. He picks up the Martina, handing it to you, "Want a drink?"
"Usually, I wouldn't take drinks from random strangers, but you seem trustable." You take the drink from his hand and down it like a shot. You shake your head from the sting, before looking at him, "You're part of that Sparrow Academy, right?"
"What gave it away?"
You look him up and down. "You guys are just... Different. You know?"
He groans, slouching before rubbing his face, "Yeah... I do."
"You have the tentacles right? What's that like?"
He smiles, shaking his head, "Well-"
---
"And it's like I'm the only one taking it seriously," Ben complains as you both continue to walk. He holds the umbrella for you both, but he was losing his temper.
"Have you tried talking to them about it? I mean you guys are like family right? You should talk about how you feel." You try suggesting, tilting your head.
He looks over at you, his eyes softening. You had no idea how cute you were, did you? It was sweet to him that you thought they could just 'talk'. "Sometimes it feels like we're strangers living in the same house."
You frown, as you turn into your apartment complex. He follows close behind and you think about what you're going to say next.
"That's sad. No one should have to face the world alone."
"You're alone." It comes out and Ben's eyes widened when it left his mouth. He felt bad and assumed you'd get mad, but you just giggled.
"Actually, I moved out here for school. My parents live in my hometown, but I get your point. Two alone people finding each other; Maybe we can be alone together."
"Doesn't that defeat the purpose of being alone?"
"Yeah, that's the best part. You're no longer alone."
---
Ben wanted to kill everyone in the house. Why did they always get on his nerves? He wanted to just punch a wall, repeatedly. He knew he shouldn't have, but he went to the pub- The one he met you at. There was a tiny little voice in his head, hoping he'd see you again, even if he tried to deny it. Luck must have been on his side, because you were at the same table.
"Hey."
You looked over to see the male from before. You smiled seeing his familiar face, "Hi, Ben right?"
"Yeah, Y/n?"
"Yeah," You push some hair back, watching the dancers and the parties.
Ben looked down at his beer, before looking over at you. You looked good- Like really good. Maybe it was the alcohol, but god he wanted to feel your skin under his.
"I never took you for a beer guy."
You snapped him out of his thoughts, "Huh?"
You gesture towards his Bud Light. "Beer. You look more like a Rum guy. Hell, I thought you'd drink Vodka or Whiskey before beer."
"Well, you don't seem like a party club girl."
You laugh, running a hand through your hair, "I'm not. I was actually hoping to see you again." You look over at him, blushing.
Ben kept a straight face, but inside he was freaking out. Did you want to sleep with him too? God, you had such a pretty face. He scooted closer to you and your eyes widened. You watched as he slowly leaned towards you. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and usually, that would bother you, but when his lips touched yours, you couldn't even think.
--
You could feel his hands groping and feeling your skin. His lips were on your neck, sucking and licking you. You moaned, tangling your fingers into his hair.
You wrapped your leg around his waist, giving him access to rub his crotch onto yours. You moaned loudly into his neck. You could hear his heavy groans and huffs in your ear as he continued to thrust into you.
You were thrown onto a bed and you giggled as he practically jumped on you. He kissed your skin as his fingers go to unbutton your blouse. You fiddle with his shirt as he pulls your blouse off. He gets off of you and throws his shirt across his room. He pulls down your pants, nearly creaming when seeing you in some cute, lacy, red underwear.
Where you expecting this? A guy fucking you? Maybe not him specifically, but where you hoping to get laid? You probably were. He kisses your pussy between your panties, his breath causing a shiver to run up your spine. He could feel the heat radiating off of your pussy and he had to stop himself from creaming right there.
He pulled your panties aside and lightly kissed your pussy. As he pulled his lips back, he sucked on you. His hands squished your thighs and you were sure his fingernails were going to leave marks. You groaned as he worked his tongue inside of you, feeling your gummy walls.
Your hands find their way into his hair and you pull him closer to you. You hear him groan against you, sending vibrations throughout your body. You moaned loudly, bucking your hips into him. You could feel his nose brushing your clit, creating more pleasure to consume your body. You had never wanted a man inside you more in your life.
It was strange since you hadn't known this man very long. Yet here you were, on his bed in his room in his house. Usually, these things would intimate you, but this felt natural. You liked this.
You liked the way his mouth sucked on your skin. You liked the way his fingers felt hot against your thighs. You liked the way his breath felt on your vagina. You liked the way his nose rubbed your clit.
He pulls your waist up and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. He was ontop of you, his biceps squeezing you tightly. You could feel his abs pressed deeply against your stomach, and his chest pressed against your breast. You could feel his hard dick pressed against your crotch as he rubbed it against you.
You moaned loudly because of the stimulation, covering his own groans. You could feel his smirk against your neck, but you were to cock drunk to say something. He shimmed off his boxers, before grabbing his cock and leading it towards your pussy.
He pushes the tip against you, before slowly pushing it inside. He was girth and thick, his veins perturbing the sides, so he knew he had to be easy with you. Your nails dug into his shoulder blades, before scratching his back. He moaned in slight pain, before bottoming out inside of you.
He pulled out, before thrusting back in causing the headboard to Thump! against the wall. Usually, he'd care about the noise and waking one of the others, but now he didn't give a shit. Infact, he hoped they all heard him fucking you, because the power boost he'd get with everyone knowing he was having sex really gets him going. Though, he didn't need to thump the bed to get some noise, because you were moaning like you were being fucked by Zeus himself.
God, Ben felt good. Your eyes were rolled back, your hair was a mess, and your lips were parted to let the moans escape. Seeing you on cloud nine nearly made him cum, so he pushed his head into your neck, as to not lose himself too soon.
---
You groaned, your eyes adjusting to the sunlight peaking through the curtains. You stretched out your arms, before feeling another body- a very strong, athletic body- underneath your hands. You looked over to see Ben and you felt your face erupt in a heavy heat. Had he always been so muscular? You quickly sat up, and your blush deepened when you realized you were naked. You lifted up the sheets and much to your surprise [Not really], he was also naked.
You quickly got up, picking up your clothes and getting dressed. You looked around the room to see you were not in YOUR room. You groaned, trying not to trip over yourself as you slowly opened the door. You looked back at him when hearing it creak to see he was still knocked out. He must have been black out drunk, he had drunken a lot last night, since he didn't move an inch.
You lightly shut the door behind you as you sighed in relief.
"So, you're Ben's loud moaner."
You blushed, before turning towards a lean girl with black hair. She didn't look all to nice, in fact she looked very annoyed. She looked you up and down before walking past you.
"Sorry," You lightly whispered as she passed you.
She just rolled her eyes and the guilt in your stomach festered and you realized you had to get out. You went down the hallway only to curse when a door opens and you quickly hide behind it. It was a girl with curly brunette hair. She must not have realized you were there, because she quickly walked past you.
You rushed down a flight of stairs, before finally seeing your exit. As you go to open the door, a man opens it. He is surprised to see you and you want to die on the spot. Before he can ask you questions, you push past him and exit the house; Hoping to never see them again.
Marcus watched as you left, rather confused. He wanted to question what the hell was going on, but then he realized that you were probably taking a 'Walk of Shame' and he was not about to humiliate you more than necessary.
---
Ben awoke with his head banging like someone was playing the drums inside his skull. He felt around his bed, disappointed when he realised it was empty. He groaned, sitting up, and rubbing his head. He pulled off the blankets and cracked his back, before getting dressed and heading downstairs.
---
Ben shook his head, shaking himself of the past. You were together again, and this time he was at your house instead of his. It felt more... personal. He felt a warm bubbling feeling knowing you trusted him enough to let him into your home, but you were also drunk. Not drunk enough where you weren't coherent, but you were a little wobbly.
"Sorry about the mess. I wasn't expecting company."
He didn't think it was mess. It was lived in, something he didn't know much about. It was comfy and he wanted to immerse himself into your home. Yes, that's what it was, a home.
"It's nice. I like it."
You shrug, throwing your bag, "It's not much, but it's home."
"Yeah..." He follows behind you as you lead him to your room. It felt way to personal to see this space. Your room was just like you, calm and comfy. He sat on your bed, fiddling with the blankets.
"This may be a weird question," You remove your blouse, pulling it over your head, before turning to him. He had already seen you naked, so you didn't mind to much. Besides- he's pretty easy on the eyes.
He looked at you expectedly and your face turned a nice pink. You were starting to wonder if she should even be asking this question. You looked away from him, deciding to focus on a book.
"The tentacles thing, you know, have you ever...?"
You hear him laugh and you felt embarrassed. You were starting to feel stupid, until you heard him respond.
"What? Used my tentacles during sex? No. Do you want to be the first?"
You were taken aback. When did he get so flirty? He was watching you, waiting and you didn't know what to say. You go to your dresser pulling out a shirt, disappointing Ben. He was hoping the conversation would lead to the same situation as before.
"So, no tentacle sex?"
Your face was hot, you were sure you were running a fever, as you quickly turned towards him, "What? No-" You shake your head, "No way."
Ben frowned. "No way?"
You began to stutter over your words when you realize how they sounded. "I didn't mean it- You're great- Like all aspects of you, even in bed. I just meant like that would be weird right? It'd be like fucking a squid- Wouldn't it-"
"I don't know, I've never fucked a squid." He's very matter of fact and straight to the point.
"Right. I just meant- Well, I mean, you know..." You looked around your room trying to find a way out when you saw a book peaking from under your bed. You quickly grabbed it and showed it to Ben. You sit on the bed and he scoots towards you. "I remember when I first got this comic book on you and your siblings. I didn't believe you guys were real. You remember how I told you how I moved out here for school?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, that wasn't entirely true. I mean it was, but I was hoping I'd run into you guys. You know, see you in action in real time."
"Oh, you saw me in action."
You blushed, rubbing your face, "Yeah... Yeah I did, huh? I thought you guys were so cool."
"So what you plan on sleeping with us all?" He asked, a little upset.
"No?" You said, a little confused. You didn't know where he got that idea from, but you hoped to shut it down. "I'm not really good with my words."
"Who is?" He lays on your bed, messing with his hair, "Sorry. About what I just said. I don't know why I said that."
"It's fine, Ben."
"Hey Y/n?"
"Yeah?"
"I really like you."
"I really like you, too."
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frickingnerd · 3 months
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number 6's darling being a yandere for him
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pairing: number 6 / rokuro nomura x gn!reader
a/n: nobody gets this man like i do. he's my little unhinged freak and i love him dearly <3
tags: yandere x yandere, unhealthy obsession, stalking
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number 6 never introduced himself to you in his original form, worrying you might be grossed out by who he really is, so he was always just rokuro nomura with you!
he won your heart over as rokuro and it didn't take long until the two of you began to date
during his time with you, number 6 always made sure not to show how obsessed he was with you, keeping up the act of being the normal rokuro nomura!
but you had soon realized that this wasn't him. that this was just a persona he put on around you and that he was hiding his true self!
how did you find out about it? well, you tried to do some research about your boyfriend, only to find out that rokuro nomura wasn't real. but you wanted to know the man behind that persona!
and so, you began to dive further into his past. you wanted to know everything about the man you loved! no matter how ugly it might be, you'd still love him!
when number 6 found out that you were looking through his past, he panicked. he was worried you'd hate him if you found our about it and he angrily confronted you, telling you to either trust him and stop or leave him!
but that's when you dropped your act, telling him just how badly you wanted to see all there is about him. even the ugly parts about his life were lovable to you! nobody else but you could love him like that and you needed him to understand it!
for a moment, number 6 was freaked out. how could he not, if he learned how obsessive his darling was. but then again, so was he. he had stalked you as well, scooping through your past. you were just the same…
with you finally dropping the act and revealing that you were a yandere for him, number 6 did the same! and while anyone else would be freaked out about such a revelation, the two of you were as happy as you could possibly be, knowing you were both as obsessed with the other one as they were with you…
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icedb1ackcoffee · 1 month
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Corrupted by Design CH 2 | Feyd-Rautha x Reader
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After generations of pillaging and destroying their ecosystem, you are assigned by the Emperor to work on with the Harkonnens to improve their planet’s agriculture as Imperial Ecologist. However, Giedi Prime is far from welcoming, and you must fight to survive the horrors you endure at the hands of the Harkonnens. When you catch the eye of the Baron’s youngest nephew, and most prized possession, you step into a world complicated by politics and revenge.
Tags: Unbeta’d, AFAB Reader, multiple OCs, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, enemy to friends to lovers/enemy lovers, slow burn, fake science, blood, violence, gore, body horror, cannibalism, uncle/nephew incest (implied), eventual smut, etc.
A/N: I’ve never read the books, so this is a combination of the Villeneuve films, the Dune Wiki, and a heavy dose of just making shit up lol. I try my best to make Reader as nondescript as possible, but there are mentions of having periods and body hair in later chapters. As a warning up front, this will not have a Happily Ever After ending, but maybe more like Happy For Now?
Please mind the tags; this is very dark, but that comes with the territory.
Chapter Two: Trapped
Previous Chapter ⦾ Next Chapter
One week. It had only been one week on Giedi Prime, and you fought the urge to wallow in your hopelessness. What possible work could you hope to achieve in a world such as this? Its cruelty was beyond animal.
Any words that were used to describe the Harkonnen were pleasant and altruistic compared to what I have already witnessed here, you wrote to your aunt. You did not care if even Baron Vladimir himself read your letters—perhaps he wouldn’t even bother. I will endure, as the Imperium wills it, but I cannot seem to shake the helplessness I feel. This is not Salusa Secundus. This is not like anything I’d ever encountered. Am I selfish to wish any kind word is given to me in hopes it breaks the dread that I feel?
Thankfully, your aunt responded quickly, and you waited until you were concealed in your quarters to read the metal scroll. I have foreseen this and I apologize—it was revealed to me in a dream, but I couldn’t give you a proper warning. There is more yet to come, and that is all I’m permitted to say. I will send word to House Almanac and speak with their confrere.
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reverse1999fics · 1 month
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Hallo! I not sure request is open if is not feel free to decline this sorry! If is alright could i request 6 and medicine pocket separately with a shy and timid s/o who worries a lot and hides behind them doesn’t have any friends but likes to just be by their side most of the time and clings to them? Hope you have a nice day!
Woohoo! Back on that grind and cranking out requests!! They are open btw!!
Please forgive me if either of them are a little ooc! I don't have MP and I skipped through the story so I don't entirely know 6's personality all that well!!
Medicine Pocket & 6 w/a Timid/Shy S/O (separate)
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Medicine Pocket is someone with a very flamboyant personality, always being able to speak their mind. They never quite understood why or how you could be so timid, but that didn't stop them from loving you all the same.
Their tall physic let off an intimidating aura to those who didn't know them properly, but to you it was a source of comfort. Their height makes it easy for you to hide behind, holding their hand or a part of their coat and trailing behind them like a child would play follow the leader. Of course Medicine Pocket had no issue with this, even taking pride in how safe you'd feel around them and only them.
No matter that you don't have many friends, neither do they due to how... Different they are to others, all they need is to be in your company they say. Others were frustrating and didn't understand what they were trying to say, what they meant, but you did. You always understood their words and actions, so you were the only person they truly wanted to be around.
Clingy? You? Clearly you've never met them because goodness only knows how much they love to be around you. Even if it were you just simply being in the same room as them, they want to be near you. You know them better than anyone else, understand their weird antics and never judge them for how they acted or what they did. That was something they held close to their heart, right next to you, so of course your affection is needed on a daily basis! Sit next to them while they work on projects or go through paperwork, lay your head on their shoulder, read a book on the couch they moved in the room just for you, take a nice nap, sit on their lap, let them sit on your lap! Anything, as long as you were with them.
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6 is a person driven to perfection when it comes to his work, someone strict with his rules and follows them all to a T. You, are a slight exception though. Oh how adorable you are to him, holding onto his sash while standing behind him, cowering from the other numbers like a little kitten. He had a soft spot for you, that much was clear to everyone
Being of high status on the island, he was a busy person, usually so busy he comes off as a recluse. But never was he too busy to ignore you even for a moment. Come into his arms after a long day of interacting with people, sit in his lap and rest to regain your social battery while he works on equations and problem solving. Your battery recharges just as much as his does, so let him rest his head on yours for a moment but don't question his closed eyes. He's just letting them rest for a moment.
You need not worry about not having many friends, he wouldn't say he has many either, if any at all. You are his one and only, why pay attention to others when he has you to keep him company? He'd rather stay home with you by his side with a good book of philosophy rather than go out with others. His robes will keep you warm, so snuggle up to his side and read along with him if you do so please.
His personality severely contradicts your own, having a more serious and stern personality that goes against your timid one, but that never stops him from loving you all the same. Should the two of you be away from each other he'll leave a piece of him with you, perhaps something on his person he wears often, or maybe a book he knows you'd like. When he is with you he'll never mind you grabbing a hold of his hand, even when others are around. He finds it adorable how you seem to try and melt into his arm as you hold onto it while others are around and chatting.
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I will block you if you are minor and have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.
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Imagine dressing up as a catgirl for Wonwoo. He's so focused playing games in your shared study room and, maybe you feel like being a bit of a tease and tempting him away from his monitors for awhile. This is something you've considered surprising your boyfriend with for some time but, the correct time has just never arisen. It's now or never, you suppose.
Wonwoo is too engrossed in the actions unfolding on his screen to notice you slip into the study. Typical. You smile a little at your unsuspecting boyfriend. Wonwoo is quite an observant man and has rarely made you feel uncared for or unwanted but, sometimes you do wish he'd cut back his gaming hours a little bit. Maybe you're just spoiled though, who knows. "Wonwoo," you call out to him, fiddling with the hem of your pastel pink skirt. He doesn't respond, still fully focusing on his screen. With a sigh you walk over to his gaming chair and, gently tap him on the shoulder.
He is startled for a moment, fumbling to pause the game. The first thing your boyfriend sees when he turns to talk to you is your tits, your white top clinging to you and leaving very little to the imagination. Now, Wonwoo has seen your boobs before and, loves them. Thinks they're a 10/10 but, he's wholly unprepared for that to be the first thing he sees. His body reacting before he is able to pull himself together. When he does start to come back to himself, he's surprised to notice what you're wearing. The black car ears sticking out from the top of your head, the pink skirt that just barely reaches your thighs and the white thigh high socks that cling to your thighs. On a closer look, he discovers you're not wearing a bra and he can very clearly see your nipples pebbled against the material of your shirt rather appetisingly. "I wanted to surprise you" comes your somewhat shy explanation for your choice of attire and, Wonwoo is still desperately trying to remember how to form words. All the blood feeling as though it has completely rushed from his head. "You uh look great" he manages to stammer out, eyes running along your body and coming to rest at the ears atop your head. A small smile graces his stupidly attractive face. "Thank you," you respond with a smile of your own, resting your hands onto his broad shoulders, leaving minimal space between the two of you. You can help the shudder that runs through your body as one of his hands comes to gently hold your thigh, resting midway between your sock and bare skin. Of course he'd get all smug at your reaction. "If you wanted to have sex you could've just said so. Not to say I don't appreciate the outfit. I'm painfully hard right now," your boyfriend says in a tone equal parts blasé and arrogant, his thumb drawing circles on your thigh. His gaze is liquid heat now as he looks at you, the noticeable octave drop in his voice making you drip onto your panties. "Like I said um I wanted it to be a surprise," you manage you get out with minimal stammering, digging your nails into his shirt as his smirk only widens. "Sure," is all he says before pulling you into a heated kiss. His grip on your thigh tightening.
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yup-thats-me · 2 years
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— beautiful secret • justin h min
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paring: husband! Justin h min x BuzzFeed producer! wife
summary: it's about time that Justin introduces his wife to the world
warning: fluff
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some months ago
"I know, baby. I miss you too. I'll be home in a few hours, and I'll cuddle you as many times as you want," Justin spoke into the phone, a bright smile adorning his lips.
Emmy, David and Ritu standing at a distance, staring at Justin.
Emmy scoffed at his stupidness. "Yeah David, when you talk to your mom you blush bright red like Justin is, right?" She smiled sarcastically, making Ritu snicker.
"Who do you reckon he's talking to?" Ritu whispered.
"Prolly his mom?" David answered or more like questioned.
After Justin put down his phone, the three hoped infront of him like excited kids do when free candies are distributed. Justin looked at them, smiling. "What?"
David nudged Ritu signalling her to begin. "We weren't like spying on you or something but..." She drifted, looking away from him.
Emmy sighed taking over. "We saw you talking in the phone and blushing. So aren't you gonna tell us?" Justin looked genuinely confused. "Tell you what exactly?".
"About your girlfriend man! Don't act shy now", David hit him on the shoulder playfully.
Justin immediately looked down after hearing their question.
"I don't know what you guys are talking about."
Ritu smirked. "Oh you do honey. It's about time we find out your secret."
Justin chuckled getting up from his chair. "You'll find out my secret of there's a secret," he told them walking away leaving the trio standing there looking, staring at his back.
"Just you wait and see Justin," Emmy stated smiling, placing her hands over her chest.
"Yeah you wait and see, dude!" David copied Emmy. Ritu did the same, placing her hands over her chest and saying, "You wait and see Mr. Secretive Korean Guy," making the rest laugh.
•••
Emmy, David and Justin sat there patiently as the crew arranged everything for their interview.
The stars were talking among themselves only Justin sat there quietly fidgeting with the thin golden band on his right pointer finger, smiling at it fondly.
David was sitting beside him and took a notice of Justin's actions. "Whatcha doin'?"
David's question pulled Justin out of his trance and into reality. "Huh? What?" Justin asked confused.
"I asked what you doing. Hey, you alright man? You zone out more frequently than normal. I've noticed from the last few months." David stared at him genuinely worried aboht his friend. " All good at home?"
"Yeah yeah. Everything's fine. All is good," Justin smiled.
Emmy bent forward from her chair and instantly noticed the golden ring.
"What's that ring for? Looks good," she complimented.
Emmy's statement made Justin look back down at his pointer finger and smiled yet again. "It's from...someone...", He drifted, avoiding eye contact with any of the two.
David and Emmy eyed him suspiciously
present day
"Oh it's going to be so hard to pay any attention to the tweets when you'll be standing there infront of me," Justin said as he hugged you tightly.
"Okay okay Mr. Loverman. Now go before anyone sees us," you laughed pushing your husband away from the embrace, making Justin stare at you dramatically.
"I didn't know you hated my hugs!" He gasped.
You giggled pecking him on both the cheeks. "You know that's not what I meant. If our pictures are getting clicked right now, your fans will go batshit crazy as to who the secret woman is. And I don't want you to face any troubles because of me."
Without a word, Justin pulled you in for a sweet kiss, taking as much time as he could to savour this moment.
"My sweet wife," he kissed you once more. "God, I love you, Y/n!"
You smiled brightly. "and me you. Now go!" You finally pushed him away from you and walked the other direction into the studio.
You entered the studio sometime after Justin got in as to not cause any suspicion. You saw Justin sitting beside Emmy and smiled at him sneakily. He too smiled back although not so sneakily cause Emmy looked at him like he was crazy.
You snickered, taking your position behind the camera.
"Hi I'm Emmy Raver-Lampman — and I'm Justin H Min — and we're here with BuzzFeed to answer some thirst tweets." With that, the interview began.
All was going well. Some tweets made you giggle quietly and others made you believe all fans are crazy.
"'I bet Justin H Min's girlfriend is as gorgeous as he is'" Emmy read out. "Yeah I too think that. Although me and the rest of the cast haven't figured who it is, yet, but we'll do pretty soon."
Justin stared at you across the room. "Wait," he got up from his seat and walked towards you.
"Ready?" He whispered in your ear when he reached you. You nodded knowing how this will go.
Justin gently pulled you along him and made you stand there in front of the camera. Emmy stood up too.
"We've been hiding for quite sometime now and I, we, think it's time to finally tell the world," he glanced at you for the last time and when you slightly nodded, he spoke again. "This is Y/n L/n, my darling wife."
The news made the entire studio gasp.
Emmy got out of her trance and immediately hugged you. "Oh my god! I'm so happy for you both!" She jumped with excitement.
The filming resumed again after a break.
After the interview, you, Emmy and Justin went to a nearby café to chat.
"I'm not sure, but have I seen you before, Y/n?" Emmy asked sipping her beverage.
Justin smiled, lacing his hand with yours on the table.
You smiled. "Maybe you've seen me the last time you guys did and interview with BuzzFeed? I'm one of it's producers."
"That's how we met. Now nearly three years ago," Justin brought your hands to his lips and kissed it softly.
Emmy stared at the two of you in awe. "You guys are really cute."
Justin and you smiled, looking at each other.
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requests are open <3
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makos-hotbox · 1 year
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S H A W N from the knot that slipped
LARGE FONT VER.
/ — thank you for sending this moss :) first slipknot req finally lets go babeyyy! Also this is intended to be platonic! /
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… 𝐇𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐃
`⌁ ◜ 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝! 𝐰𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲! ◞
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The room was filled with broken and out of sync music. Recordings of the guitars and other drums were heard as Shawn continued to try and find a good sound to play. You were sprawled out on the old couch in the corner. Half asleep as you waited for your only ride home to finish his workaholic state.
Since nine in the morning, you have been in the studio with the rest of the band. Trying to cook up a new song, and very slowly at that. Barely any work has gotten done as everyone was stumped. Now it was ten at night and you were waiting for Shawn to finish his idea.
He was your only ride back home since everyone left while you were in the bathroom. More loud drums filled the room for a period of time, driving you insane. It was late and you just wanted to go home, was that too much to ask?
Remembering the countless times you and Sid have smoked in this room, you said fuck it and grabbed the pre-roll that was stashed in your bag. You know… for times when one of your closest buddies is being too stubborn.
Shawn was watching as you shuffled around searching for your joint. He knew exactly what it was you were looking for and he didn’t care. As long as you would stay busy so he could piece together a good track. You sat back down on the couch and cracked open the window behind you.
Lighting up, you spent the next few minutes smoking in silence as various causes and banging were heard around the room. Nothing out of the norm, wouldn’t be the worst you’ve seen from a simple mistake. As you were spacing out, an idea sparked in your head.
While it was a bit dangerous to purposely irritate him more, you were never going to get home if you let Shawn continue to work. So while he silently looked over his notes, you took a long and deep inhale of smoke. Purposely blowing it all out with an exaggerated sigh. He only shot you a confused glance before you did it again.
And again, and again. Each time you did it, Shawn only grew more irritated. The constant obnoxious exhaling coming from you was driving him insane. Every puff was louder than the other, either a yawn or heavy exhale. It was annoying and that’s what you wanted. He couldn’t focus on anything, not even a simple rhythm.
Slamming his head down into the drum, Shawn groaned loudly as you exhaled smoke again. “You! Be quiet. Your breathing is distracting me.” He lectured, even pointing an insulting finger towards you.
“Oh, okay, yeah. I’ll just stop breathing.” You replied sassily, rolling your eyes.
“Thank you. That’ll be very fucking helpful.” Shawn commented with just as much sass. It was kind of funny, you had to hold back a laugh. Before you could give another remark, he started playing the drums again.
Turns out, he finished the first part quickly. No errors and exactly what he wanted. Shawn turned around in his chair to face you again with a grin on his face. Holding a thumbs up it quickly fell seeing you slumped on the couch with a bored look on your face as you stared at him. “You good?-“
“I wanna go home.”
“Well it’s not that la…” and it was. It was late. The clock struck midnight not too long ago and you were fighting sleep. Finally satisfied, Shawn decided it was finally time to pack up. Grabbing his bag along with yours, he helped drag you off of the comfy couch.
“Let’s get you home then, kid.” Shawn patted your back, leading you to his car. Helping you as you stumbled on your legs, both from the smoking and the lack of sleep.
You relaxed in the passenger's seat with a couple jackets laid out on you as blankets. It was more comfortable than you would have thought and that was more than enough. “Did you at least… -yawn- get your piece done?” You asked, watching out the window as he began to leave the studio.
“Of course i did. If I didn’t, you would be fast asleep on the couch.”
“Thought so…”
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REQUESTS:: OPEN
» 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 … 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐭
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the-night-owl-blr · 2 years
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Saw this pic and this is my first thought
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c0ffee-stain · 2 years
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Whispers
Five Hargreeves x f!reader
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Blurb • Prologue - 1.0 • Chapter 1 - 1.01 • Chapter 2 - 1.02 • Chapter 3 - 1.03 • Chapter 4 - 1.04 • Chapter 5 - 1.05 • Chapter 6 - 1.06 • Chapter 7 - 1.07
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Not proofread so let me know if there's anything wrong with the chapter.
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Warning: Contains: Alcohol, blood (if you squint)
Space boy and the Kraken
The second my eyes had landed on the large bottle of liquor rolling to my side, I immediately felt my body itch for the burning but pleasuring liquid to grace the dryness of my mouth.
Feeling my hopes lift as more time passed without anyone else claiming the drink, I began to reach for it, only for someone to leap towards the bottle that turned out to not be fully closed, and snatch it back, spilling the substance all over the book in hand.
I narrowed my eyes and furrowed my brows, eager to see the idiot who had ruined the little moment of peace I was able to steal for myself. But I didn't expect to see that idiot.
The Hargreeves was laying on his stomach, his face planted into the floor beside my feet with no sign he was awake.
Praying to whatever higher being there may be looking out for me, I begged for the boy to be knocked out from the collision and to leave me in peace.
Well, just as I thought. There either is no God or they simply love to watch me suffer as repentance for my sins. Or maybe it's the Devil deciding to play a few 'amusing' tricks. Five's head shot up and immediately began to pester me with questions and demands I couldn't stand to hear.
However, it seemed to be that the Devil was on my side even if it were for a moment, as the boy beside me shut his mouth and held the bottle to my lips, ushering me to drink as I was too annoying sober.
And so, I did. We drank as if it were the only real thing in this twisted world we were forced to call home. We drank as much as our teenage bodies could endure- No, more, not caring for the definite throbbing headaches and spells of nausea that were guaranteed to come after a deep alcohol-ridden sleep.
How did it come to this? I found myself ask over and over again as I caught myself laughing drunkenly at whatever bullshit Five had said.
How did it come to the two of us sharing a large bottle of liquor and speaking freely, more like insulting the other, as if we had been friends for years and not ruthless enemies with burning desires to destroy the other. Had these desires burnt so fiercely that the thoughts of malice were now in ashes? Or were we allowing ourselves to be vulnerable for a moment? Missing the not so familiar feelings of freedom and lack of burdens.
No matter the reason. Because in the end it was all due to the strong drunken influence our minds were under, which would soon fade and allow us to return to our normal hostile states.
A part of me wished to get back to our routines of hatred and malice, spewing comments that were specifically targeted at each other’s flaws and insecurities. But then again, this feeling, being able to let go and relax felt… nice? The last time I felt this way was when I was with Jasper.
Sooner than later, I found myself leaning the side of my head against a hard (but soft?) surface, feeling my eyelids slowly get heavier, only for a constant tickling on my forehead and nose preventing me from giving into the unconscious state I longed to be in.
The tickling from the mystery material did not cease, bringing me to the verge of sneezing. Making me jump, a vibration shot through my skull, followed by a horrendously phlegmy snore.
That’s when a thought crossed my mind, alerting my whole body and screaming at me to get away while I still could. But I felt warm and oddly comfortable- especially after filling myself to the brim with liquor- and felt fatigue wash over my limbs, holding me down from trying to move any further.
However, my curiosity got the best of me. I tiredly tilted my head back and looked up to see dark chestnut brown hair obstructing half of my vision and a slightly pale face tilted to the side towards me, leaning against a glass partition behind us.
So if it’s Five's hair brushing against my face and his snore echoing loudly above me, then...
My brain short-circuited as I began to understand the gravity of the situation. I was leaning my head on Five's shoulder. Peacefully. Willingly. The realisation brought bile to my mouth.
I tried to move away, ignoring the ache in my limbs and throb in my shoulder, setting my sites on an equally as comfortable- maybe more- corner on the other side of the library.
Despite the plan clear in my mind, any thoughts of escaping were quickly cut short as a sudden weight hit the top of my head, slamming my temple back onto his shoulder. I felt an arm wrap around my waist, hugging me closer.
"Five!" I whisper shouted against his ear. No response except from a deafening snore.
"Five, let the fuck go." Nothing.
Although on the verge of sleep myself, I forced my heavy eyelids open and attempted to push the boy away with the very little strength I had left.
I sighed. I was stuck.
And even worse, I slowly felt my eyes close forcing me into the darkness and into a drunken sleep.
__
Luther and Diego Hargreeves.
Number 1 and Number 2.
Space boy and the Kraken.
What amazingly ridiculous names.
The brothers, who never got along no matter the severity of the situation, hurriedly searched for their brother and forced themselves not to utter a word between the two in hopes of finding him quicker.
But neither of the could deny the anxiousness creeping at the back of their minds, slowly coming to light. Neither of them could help wonder what to do to the young girl with him, and the danger she had put him in.
They were both definite that the strange girl with their brother was the cause for the end of the world, the attack at the mansion and ultimately, the death of their dear robot mother.
Maybe that’s why they’re considered the dumbest of the Hargreeves siblings.
The pair walked into a library, receiving odd stares from multiple civilians before walking up a flight of stairs and onto the second floor, overlooking the grand library.
In a matter of seconds, the Hargreeves brothers gave into one of their guaranteed arguments.
“We’re orphans again, dude.” Diego muttered loud enough for the man beside him to hear. “All because of her and those fucked up assassins.”
“And things are never gonna go back to the way…” A fit of giggles sounded nearby. “It used to… be.” Diego squinted and looked ahead to see a group of woman laughing and giggling, “Where are their parents?”
“Do you ever stop talking?” Luther sassed, giving his brother an annoyed stare.
Diego brushed past him and walked towards the commotion, an idea clear in his mind on what the crowd may be laughing at. Well, more like who.
“I’m gonna call security.”
Diego rushed towards the source of the sounds, and stopped in place with his eyes wide but amused and jaw agape as he saw the scene in front of him.
There was his brother, Five, tightly holding onto the so-called villain of the story, both of them blackout drunk with a large empty bottle to their side.
The wall around them was plastered with physics equations, and curses that were directed at the other, and a heavy stench of liquor surrounding both of their teenage bodies.
“Are they, um…?” Luther trailed off as his brain adjusted to the situation his eyes were glued on.
“Drunk as skunks.” Diego finished, trying to hold in a smirk but failing.
“Isn’t she…”
“The enemy?” Diego’s lips twisted into a sneer. “It seems that Five thinks otherwise.”
__
"We can't go back to the house. It's not secure. Those psychopaths could come back at any moment."
"My place is closer. No one will look for them there."
"Them?" Luther questioned, disgust evident in his tone. He looked down to his brother who was resting in his arms. The drunk boy released a burp. Luther sighed, terrified at what else that could come spewing out of his brothers mouth (apart from insults). "If you vomit on me..."
Diego glanced at the man. He ran his fingers through his hair, beads of sweat now on the pads of his fingers. He gave his brother a glare he very well deserved. "What? You want to leave a drunk teenage girl out on the streets in the night?"
"No, I just-" He sighed, trying to craft a sentence in his mind that would receive the least amount of scolding. Alas, he came out empty handed. "What do you suggest we do, huh? She's the enemy."
Diego licked his lips and sighed. He looked back at the me, who he was dragging by the sleeve of the stolen coat he had forced me into. All I was still wearing was Allison's old uniform, excluding the blazer and fleece jumper, that was covered with burns and splatters of blood. I was stumbling down the street, half-asleep and fully under the influence, only for my eyes to shoot open and for me to start laughing.
"Hey, hey! Do you know what I just realised?"
Five shot his head up, his eyes fluttering open and voice sounding lazily. "But, do you know what I just realised?" Five responded, the two of us making intense eye contact, imitating a couple of kids attempting to read the others mind.
I swayed, almost tripping over my feet. Diego finally gave in to the whispers in his mind telling him to help, and threw my arm around his shoulder, assisting me.
"Okay, okay." I slurred. I held up 3 fingers. The young Hargreeves watched eagrely, adjusting himself in his brothers arms.
"In 3, 2, 1--"
"We're going through puberty, twice!" We both chanted at once, our voices echoing loudly down the alleyway Diego was leading us down.
A long silence spanned between the four, both from astonishment and pure child like glee. Five and I burst into a drunken fit of laughter, a sound that unnerved the other two males. They had never heard his brother laugh and here he was, laughing freely with the enemy.
"I drank that whole bottle, didn't I?" Five asked, staring up into the sky.
I let out a snort. "Yeah, you did- Ow!" I hissed. I span my head around, my eyes meeting Five's. He had slapped the back of my head. "What was that for?"
"Yeah, you're definitely sober otherwise you wouldn't be holding onto Diego as if your life depended on it." He sneered before proceeding with a sigh.
"Well, that's what you do when the world you love goes bye-bye. Poof..." He waved his hand. "it's gone."
After another silence, our footsteps being the only sound echoing in the night, Five asked his brothers, "What were you guys talking about?"
The knife obsessed brother glanced towards me, watching as my eyelids were threatening to drop, and said. "Two masked intruders attacked the Academy last night. They came looking for you," Diego then gave me a hard stare which I gladly returned. "And you."
"So I need you both to focus. What do they want?"
I scrunched my brows. "To fuckin' kill us."
"Hazel and Cha-Cha." The boy murmured.
"Who?"
"The best of the best." I responded before adding, "Except me, of course." I muttered the last part, not bearing to hear Five jump to a debate that he'd lose. Best to save my voice for something important.
"The best of what?"
"Y'know, Delores always said she hated when I drink. She said it made me cranky and annoying, reminding her of an old man."
"She's not wrong--" I was cut off from Diego abruptly stopping in his tracks and snapped,
"Hey!"
"Hm, yeah?"
"I need you to focus." He pointed his free index finger at his brother. "What do this Hazel and Cha-Cha do?"
Expecting his brother to give him a response to try ease the guilt and anger bubbling under his skin, he watched his brothers lips tug upwards and curve into a devious grin. He was mocking him.
Diego was being mocked by his drunk 16 year-old looking brother. But should he burst into flames and let the rage take over. No.
He bit back a wave of curses in Spanish and tapped into his 'big brother' side instead.
"We just wanna protect you."
"Protect me." Five repeated, the words sounding foreign on his tongue. "I don't need your protection, Diego." He then said, giving into the liquor in his system. "Do you have any idea how many people I've killed?"
He scoffed after receiving nothing but silence. "I'm the fourth frickin' Horsemen and y/n..." The three Hargreeves turned their heads to me, only to find me sleeping peacefully, my head hanging low.
“And she’s asleep. Oh well. You’ll probably find out about her soon enough.” Five kissed his teeth. “The apocalypse is coming.” And with that, he vomited all over his brother.
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“Y/N!”
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“JAS—”
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“YOU CAN’T LET THEM—!”
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“You’re really leaving him behind, bloodhound?”
——
Me eyes shot open, escaping the clutches of voices and images rushing through my mind. I could feel my breathing was frantic but luckily silent, the only relief being that nobody else had the chance of hearing something so vulnerable.
So weak.
I bit down onto my lip and tried to ease my breathing, tried to shut myself up and move on. I forced myself to think of the future and plan my way to victory. A victory that once seemed just out of reach, had now vanished into nothing but a pitiful excuse of a dream. Nevertheless, I had to plan. Otherwise—
SMACK
A hand slammed against my face, my nose getting squashed under the sudden pressure.
“Who’s hand…?” I trailed off, deep down knowing very well whose it was.
I slowly turned my head to the body laying next to me. I sighed deeply seeing a familiar face resting peacefully beside me. The boy was laying in his stomach, face squished against the pillow and turned towards my side. Drool dribbled out of his open mouth and onto the pillow under him.
The memories of last night were blurry, consisting of drinking and drinking and drinking, then getting dragged like a dog on a leash by another Hargreeves? If that’s the case, then that means…
I snapped upright, immediately regretting my decision as a wave of dizziness hit me like a hammer to the head, along with a headaches that felt the same way.
I groaned, rubbing my temples and getting out of the bed, looking around my unfamiliar surroundings. I clenched my jaw and grabbed a dagger that sat idly on a nightstand.
I had to escape. I was wasting precious time doing nothing but laying around, hungover. Before I could progress any further with my thoughts, sudden turns of the handle on the other side of the door caught my attention. I laid my back flat against the wall beside the door, knife tightly in hand ready to strike. I was getting out of here one way or another.
The door opened, revealing Luther.
Now.
I span the knife between my fingers, stretching my arm back. As I was about to throw the dagger towards the man, a flash of blue blocked me from doing so. Everything was a blur. A hand gripped my wrist, taking the weapon and spinning me round so my front was pushed against the wall, a bruise blossoming on my cheek from the harsh impact.
"I can tell your enjoying yourself." I spat, the words muffled as the side of my face was forced against the wall.
"You have no idea." The boy responded, the sneer shining through his words. He didn't bother facing his brother and said, "You're lucky she's hungover. Otherwise you'd be bleeding out on the floor."
Luther's face paled slightly and slowly shook his head. He cleared his throat, "I would've handled it fine myself."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night." Five sighed, subconsciously applying more force against my arms that he had pinned against my back.
I clenched my jaw from the shooting pain in my shoulder, biting back a pained groan and any indications that were fighting to be displayed on my face showing I was in pain. But the vein bulging against the flesh of my neck proved otherwise.
And it seemed Five noticed this. He pressed harshly once more, stretching my injured arm to the side and watched with a sadistic half-smirk as my monotonous expression slowly unravelled.
I could feel the thread that held the torn flesh of my shoulder together slowly rip apart, producing an agonising pain. Finally, Five released his grip and let my limbs go, allowing me to secretly release a sigh of relief. I sucked in a quick breath between my teeth as I gently tapped the wound, specks of blood painting themselves on the white shirt, as if it could get ruined even further.
I scowled at the boy then shot a glare at his brother.
Five paid no mind and sat on the unmade bed, Luther opposite him and watching me like a hawk.
"What." I demanded, annoyance creeping in my voice.
"Oh, nothing. Just making sure you don't kill me or anything."
I kissed my teeth and narrowed my eyes. Before I could respond, Five interrupted.
"Enough." His voice was sharp, instantly gaining our attentions. "Sit." Five signalled to the spot beside him. "We've got a lot to talk about."
Filling Luther in with everything that had happened and was going to happed- well, not everything- was more draining than I would've thought.
"When's it supposed to happen? This... apocalypse."
"I can't give you the exact hour, but from what I could gather we have 4 days left."
4 more days until I get what I deserve.
"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Luther asked, stress evident in his tone.
"It wouldn't have mattered."
"Of course it would." He interjected. "We could've banded together and helped stop this thing."
"For the record, you already tried."
"What do you mean?"
Five paused an swallowed thickly, trying to stop himself from going back to his own personal hell. "I found all of you. Your bodies."
"We die?"
He paused once more. "Horribly."
A tense silence hung over the three of us, waiting for someone to break through.
"You were together, trying to stop whoever it was that ends the world."
Luther looked at him brother, his forehead creased as his body felt all too tense. "Wait, how do you know that?"
Five reached for his pocket, a trail of tissue wrapped around the precious eyeball of his.
"This was clutched in your dead hand when I found you." He threw the object to his brother, deja vu hitting him as he watched Luther's fingers close around it, spectating the eye carefully. "Must've ripped it out of their head right before you went down."
"Whose head?"
"Like I said, I don't know."
"Well there's a serial number on the back. Think maybe you could try--"
"No, that's a dead end." Five chuckled bitterly. "It's just another hunk of glass."
Luther handed the eye back and shot me stern stare. He then looked at Five and asked, "What makes you believe she wasn't the one to start this all in the first place?"
"What?" I said, astonished at the Hargreeves stupidity. "What on earth makes you think I could create an entire, world-ending apocalypse?"
"Ever since you've showed up--"
"Luther. Don't be an idiot." Five scoffed. "Y/n is here to help me prevent the apocalypse. Not the other way round."
False.
"Oh, yeah?" Luther leaned in, attempting to be menacing. He pointed a finger towards me. "And what makes you believe that? She tried to kill me."
"We've all had the urge." Five muttered. He then released a sigh, the corners of his lips turning downwards. "Because she doesn't have a choice. We've made a deal which have both of our interests in considerations. She helps me with the apocalypse, and she'll get what she wants in return."
Also false.
Luther wasn't wholeheartedly convinced however. "No," He began. "I want to hear it from you."
"From me?" I repeated.
Luther held my gaze, the suspicion in his eyes not wavering once. Well, if I was going to carry on reporting for The Handler, I couldn't raise any questions I couldn't answer.
"Your brother's telling the truth. It's both in our best interests to keep the Earth spinning without an apocalypse to wipe out every living thing. And besides," I leaned in, mimicking the mans action. "Tell me how being dead is going to benefit me in any way whatsoever. I'm just as screwed as you are, Number one."
I held his stare, challenging him with my own until Luther finally looked away and sighed.
"Fine. I believe you... for now."
I stopped myself from breaking out into a wide grin and exclaiming how it was all a lie and that I had fooled them both. But I'm not stupid. Five gave his brother a look that simultaneously screamed, 'I told you so' and 'Don't ever question my decisions again' to which Luther gave his brother a mild glare.
Luther opened his mouth to speak, only for the sound of the door being kicked open and the rapid stomps of Diego to stop him from doing so.
"Piece of shit." Luther got up to the sight of his brother. Diego's eyes landed on Five and I. "Do you have any idea what you just did?" His voice was escalating to a yell as he approached us, looking ready to start a fight with no intent of stopping.
Luther quickly wrapped his arms around him, and lifted him up. "No, let me-- Get your ape hands off of me!"
"I can do this as long as it takes you to calm down." Diego's bore his teeth and let out a deep breath. He grunted, "Fine."
Diego's feet hit the floor.
"Now, wanna tell us what you're taking about?"
"Our brother's been pretty busy since he got back with his little friend. They were in the middle of the shootout at Griddey's, and then at Gimble Brothers, after the guys in masks attacked the Academy looking for them!" Diego barked, pointing his index finger from Five to me.
"None of which is any of your concern."
"It is now." Diego panted. "They just killed me friend." His bottom lip trembled as he mentioned his dead friend.
Luther turned around and gave in to his curiosity. "Who are they, Five?"
Five gave me a look to which I just shrugged.
"They work for our former employer. A woman called The Handler. She sent them to stop us. Then soon as Diego's friend got in their way, well, fair game."
Diego looked at his brother, the sorrow the man had tried to burry deep, spilling into his expression. "And now they're my fair game. And I'm gonna see to it they pay."
I rolled my eyes at his bold statement.
"That would be a mistake Diego." Five voiced my thoughts as we watched his brother approach the exit. "They've killed people far more dangerous than you."
"Yeah, we'll see about that." The door slammed after him, the sound bouncing off of the exposed brick walls.
"Former employer?" Luther echoed. "The Handler?"
A shiver ran down my spine hearing her name roll off so easily from his tongue, no idea of how hard it is to utter those 2 words, and having to see the woman to which they belonged to.
The Handler.
Short platinum hair, blue eyes, and a desire to turn some of mankind's greatest blessings into total nightmares.
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This took so long to write. I kept writing and re-writing over and over and over again cause I felt like something wasn't right with the chapter or whatever.
Especially with school starting this took longer to release then I had thought. :/
Anyways, hope you all enjoyed it, and next chapter is going to be about Five and y/n's commission days...
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Taglist for Whispers 🏷
Comment if you'd like to be included.
@ameagrice @inksplattersblog @coraldeeznutsz @valtrezzz @dj-loopylou @l4vly-k1ss3s @fanfics-welcome @urmomsfling @darklingsgrl @honestlyspeedytree @bitch-bee @rogue17 @literally-a-ferret @jeeminyo @nvmkyuu @navs-bhat @muitifandomblogs @honestlyvore @winchestertitties @dhdhdhdhdhdjjs @crankgameplayssimp @rainyroads @unomomonono @hon3y-c0mb @kisslie @danis-stuff-is-here @ayoitsmickey @xjsbk @001andeddiearetodiefor @cutelittleescapingsenses @tua-five @qualityearthquakes @oscarisdaddy69 @bebe-panda @ara-sakura @maris-cottage @differentstudentcookiespy @annitrice-does-things @souredmilktea @diorsdolls @cherryccke @severetriumphgardener @myinnermonologueisepic @phoenix666stuff @velvet-spider @deepimvginvtion @hajimesmommymilkers @angelwastaken @hellfiregirllll @lotsoflove1004 @katiemrty @teamspideyman
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ok bc i REALLY cant shut the hell up, im gonna have to break up pt 4 of my vamp!eddie fic 😅 i just gotta figure out where to cut it now
ill probably have something posted tomorrow tho
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soaps-mohawk · 3 months
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood Masterlist
Summary: Task Force 141 operates successfully without an omega, at least that’s what Price has been saying since its formation. Two alphas and two betas balance the pack just fine, and they have the numbers to prove it.
It works for a while, until the Omega Initiative is born and the 141 find themselves having to adjust to the sudden addition of an omega to their pack. Fresh out of an institute, you’re hardly fit for their secretive, dangerous world, or so Price thinks. 
As each member of the team gets closer to you, things begin to come to light, not only about you but about the decision to force you into their lives.
Maybe, just maybe, Price was wrong and the 141 does need an omega after all. 
Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz, Ghost x Soap
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, NSFW content, explicit smut, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), knotting, biting, claiming, mating cycles, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, age differences, military inaccuracies, canon typical violence, blood, weapons, language, no use of Y/N, brief torture, hurt/comfort, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.
Chapters containing smut are marked with a *
Updates are posted on the weekends, either Saturday or Sunday PST
This fic can also be found on my Ao3 -> HERE
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Divider by: samspenandsword
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Part 1 - The Omega
Chapter 1 - The Introduction Chapter 2 - Adjustments Chapter 3 - Speak Their Language Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful Chapter 5 - What I Want *
Part 2 - The Bond
Chapter 6 - One Step Closer * Chapter 7 - Sweet Strawberry Chapter 8 - The Thing About Ghost Chapter 9 - Save Me Chapter 10 - Treat Me Gently*
Part 3 - The First Heat
Chapter 11 - It's Coming Chapter 12 - Fire In My Veins* Chapter 13 - Piece Me Back Together* Chapter 14 - The Aftermath*
Part 4 - The New Normal
Chapter 15: Bonnie* Chapter 16: Big Brown Eyes * Chapter 17: Alone Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go
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I Hate You
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Summary: You and this Ben have a terrible first impression, which leads to a rivalry, but it soon turns into something more.
"God, you look like an alcoholic-" You spoke, not being able to stop your words before they came out.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me." It was to late to take it back, so you stood by what you said. "A.A. is waiting for you my friend," You joke, but this Ben is not as easygoing as your Ben.
"Is that your idea of a joke?"
"You don't look like you like jokes."
"Jokes are immature and I am not."
"Mmm, because drug abuse makes you so manly-" You were taunting him now and you could see his temple tightening and his face bleeding a dark red. You smirked and this irritated him more. "I bet you hear that you're no fun a lot."
"I don't have to stand for this-"
"Then sit," You gesture to a chair, "Rest your legs."
"I hate you."
"Haven't heard that before. But you sure have-"
-----
Ben hated being alone with you. You always knew how to get under his skin. Out of all the Umbrella weirdos, you bothered him the most. And honestly, he didn't know why you bugged him so much.
You never said anything significant or truly hurtful, so why did you bug him? Maybe it was that no matter how mean he was to you, you kept poking him, kept bugging him, kept getting to him. He didn't want you close to him, didn't want you hurting him.
Eventually though, you are the only one, out of all the Umbrella's who is able to get somewhat through to Ben. Granted, he doesn't like you, but there might actually be a part of him that loves you, though he'd never admit it. At least not sober-
-----
Ben was visibly upset. You didn't know why, and you were worried about finding out. You did feel that he was sitting all alone, so you decided to suck it up and approach him.
"What's little Ben doing tonight?"
He groaned and grabbed his head, not answering you at first. He looked up and glared, before turning towards his drink. You looked over at the glasses and boy there were a lot.
"God, you really do have a problem-"
"Why?"
"Why what?" You asked, confused by his question.
"Why wasn't I invited to the Bachelor Party?" He looks back at you, sadden and you heart breaks a little.
"You are a little mean." You said, shrugging, "Besides, I thought you liked being alone."
He laughs and rolls his eyes, "Who likes to be alone?"
"The leader types-" You joked, but Ben was serious. He was genuinely hurt and you stopped yourself, "Well, you're not alone now, so why not join?"
He shakes his head and leans on his hand, "No... I can't-"
Ben was scared. Scared of letting lose. Scared of rejection. Scared of loss and grief. He couldn't deal with those emotions and would rather lock them up than feel a second of love.
"Well, Ben the offer is always open, even if you are a dick."
Ben smiles to himself as you take off. Maybe he didn't hate you as much as he liked to think.
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hazyhae · 2 months
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indica dreams | ldh
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plug!hyuck x fem!reader ft. bestie jeno and cousin johnny
summary: when you finally decide to do something about your sleeping problem, your best friend suggests weed as a solution. he introduces you to donghyuck — a plug who makes it his personal mission to teach you everything there is to know about it. 
wc: 11.7k 18+ mdni
cw: fluff, mild angst, smut, weed/marijuana use in multiple forms, unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it up!), creampie, oral (receiving), flirty down bad soft dom!hyuck who's highkey a simp, dirty talk + voice/praise kink, reader has sleep problems and is a chronic overthinker, reader has a bad trip on weed, tender loving and reassurance, baby/sunshine/my girl as petnames
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you turn over in your bed for what feels like the hundredth time, eyes shut tight as you groan in frustration. you open your eyes and feel around for your phone, blinding yourself once the screen faces you. 4:23 a.m. great.
when your alarm set for work blares just a few hours later, you feel as though you shut your eyes for only a few minutes, reluctantly getting up to start your day.
this has been happening for a while now — maybe 1 or 2 months? you’re not sure when exactly it started, but you know the stress from work has been affecting your sleep schedule terribly.
you’ve tried melatonin — huge headache the morning after. other methods you tried led to something similar or didn’t work at all, and it frustrates you to no end. after another day of fighting to stay awake at work passes by painfully slow, you sit on your bed brainstorming with your best friend over the phone.
“i think we’ve gotta do something about the stress, then maybe the sleep will come with it?” jeno’s voice rings through the speaker. you can tell he’s just waking up, evident in his low voice and delayed responses.
“like what? quit my job?” you ask sarcastically. “you know i can’t do that.”
“i know, not that.” you can almost hear him shrug. jeno never has any problems sleeping, being able to sleep through the night and even take a nap or two throughout the day with his work from home job.
a lightbulb seems to flash in his head as he lets out a small gasp. “wait,” his voice sounds closer to the phone speaker, and a few seconds later, your phone buzzes with a new message.
6:06pm jenjen: dongfuck 010-xxxx-xxxx
“dongfuck?? who the hell is that?” you ask, confused and almost slightly irritated.
“oh shit, i forgot it sends the contact name and everything,” jeno laughs. “anyways, i think the answer to your problems is some good old weed.”
you pause. it’s not as if that never crossed your mind, in fact it has even before your sleep problem came about.
you never entertained the interest as no one in your friend circle knew enough about weed for you to feel comfortable trying it for the first time and you haven’t had the energy to go out as much, giving you no chance to meet someone who does.
“i could be down? but what do you know about weed, lee jeno?” you ask your friend suspiciously.
“no, not me,” you hear him tap on the phone for emphasis. “that’s where my buddy dongfuck comes in.”
you don’t know why, but your gut feeling tells you that you might be in for more than just a good night’s sleep.
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lee donghyuck
the new contact in your phone apparently belonged to the resident stoner of his friend group who hustles as a local plug, and while jeno had his thoughts about the guy, quoting pain in the ass and corny flirt, he couldn’t deny that he knows more about weed than anyone he’s ever met. and as much as jeno talks shit, you know how he’d be if he actually hated the guy.
you had texted the new number nervously, asking if he could give you the basics on getting high, and he had responded with “it’s too much to text” and an address. jeno trusted the guy, so you did your best to brush aside your nerves.
it’s your saturday off when you arrive at the address he sent, triple checking that you are at the right place. your gps leads you to a building that looks like a 2-story house. it’s so lowkey that you probably would have walked right past it if you weren’t looking for it, but upon closer inspection it has a very minimal but aesthetic exterior, with vines running alongside the house’s entrance.
“NCTeaHouse” a sign reads right above the door, and you peek inside the small window in the door to see the interior. your mouth forms an o as you realize the house is in fact a store.
the front door opens suddenly, almost hitting you in the face as you step back in surprise. a dark haired man with rounded glasses peeks his head out from behind the door.
“oops, my bad. __ right?” he asks, a little unsure.
“yeah, and you’re donghyuck?” you ask, taking in the man who looks to be around the same age as you.
“just hyuck is okay, come on in!” he says cheerfully, opening the door fully. “i was wondering when you were gonna come in, saw you wandering around the entrance for a good 5 minutes,” he chuckles.
your face gets hot at the knowledge that he saw you like that. “i was making sure it was the right place, okay?”
he hums and leads you in, and you take in the view of the shop around you. it’s tiny, but warmly decorated, browns and earth tones dominating the space with boxes lined along the shelves and few displays in the middle of the shop. he goes behind the front counter, bent down as he rummages through a box.
you take a look at products at the register, finding that they are different tea bags. glancing back at the displays, you recognize the other boxes to also be different tea brands, and some other products you don’t recognize.
“is this where you sell?” you ask, seeing that he’s still looking for something.
“oh no, not here, this is my side job. we sell tea, coffee, and some other stuff.” he gets up with a smaller box in hand, leaving the register as he beckons you to a back room. “but it’s my cousin’s shop, i just help here when i can.”
the back room is also warmly decorated, simple with 2 couch chairs, a table with a coffee maker, and a tiny fridge with a small burner on top.
“you can sit in one of those chairs, do you want some tea?” he asks. you decline politely and sit as he places a kettle on the small burner, turning it on before sitting on the other chair.
“aren’t you working right now? i don’t want to take up too much of your time,” you ask worriedly, not expecting the address he sent to be his workplace. he shakes his head.
“nah, trust me, we barely get any customers, and if they do they’ll ring the bell out front,” he says, waving his hand. “anyways, jen told me you wanted to learn about weed? what do you want to know?”
you feel your face get hot again. you know quite literally nothing about weed, and to admit that to a friend of a friend is a little embarrassing. but again, if jeno trusts him, so do you.
“to be completely honest.. i know nothing about it. i just know i have trouble sleeping at night and jeno suggested it might help,” you tell him.
“so just for sleep?” he asks.
“well, yes.. and no,” you start. you finally have the opportunity to learn the ropes from someone who actually knows what they were doing, but would he be down knowing you were starting from ground zero? he peers at you, noting that your expression looks a little conflicted.
“hey, no need to feel shy about it. everyone has to start somewhere,” he assures.
his words have more of an effect on you than you would expect, feeling touched at the reassurance of someone you barely know. it’s crazy how one sentence can have you feeling like you can trust him with whatever, but you nod in response.
“i think.. i’d like to learn at least the basics about weed, or even more if you’re willing? i’ve always been interested but never had the chance to explore it, but something tells me that’s what you’re all about,” you let your inner thoughts spill. he noticeably lights up at your words.
“and you’re absolutely right! trust me, as long as you’re willing to learn, i’m more than willing to teach,” he chimes, excited for someone who could potentially be as into weed as he is.
like you, none of his close friends really indulge in the substance, and it’s not like he can smoke on the regular with his customers, so he feels genuine excitement at the prospect of a weed buddy.
the sight of his lit up face at your curiosity really reassures your decision to trust jeno’s recommendation. as if on cue, his kettle starts whistling and he gets up to turn off the burner.
you watch as he pours the water into a mug he had set to the side. your eyes trail over his outfit: a comfortable looking brown hoodie paired with some ripped jeans that hug his long legs just right.
your eyes move back up to his face, only to see him staring back at you with an eyebrow raised.
“like what you see?” he asks with a teasing grin. you groan to hide your embarrassment, now seeing what jeno meant when he called him a corny flirt. but you really were checking him out, so you quickly try to come up with an excuse.
“i’m just thinking you don’t really look like you’d be a plug,” you redirect. he shakes his head.
“and what do you think a plug should look like?” he asks, face the tiniest bit more serious. the question surprises you.
“i guess, a little scarier?” you say quietly. you do imagine a plug being that way — quiet, intimidating, maybe a few tattoos. definitely not the man in front of you with his big brown eyes behind a pair of silver framed glasses, fluffy hair and even fluffier hoodie. he laughs at your answer.
“and that is where you are wrong,” he tuts at you, waving a finger. “stoners come in all shapes and sizes, and this plug of yours just happens to be incredibly charming and handsome.” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you can’t hold back your laughter.
aside from the last part, his words ring true, and you feel a little silly at your preconceived notion. one of the main things that has stuck out from him so far is his lack of judgement, and it’s something you admire. maybe this really is a good thing for you.
“anyways, when are we gonna start these lessons?” you ask, returning to your original goal.
“we can start now if you’ve got time,” he smiles, taking a sip of his tea. you check your phone, noting that not too long has passed since you arrived. you don’t have any plans besides trying to catch up on sleep, but you know that will probably be futile. why not?
“i’ve got time,” you let him know, and he meets you with a bright smile. he gets you some water, telling you to get comfy for his “weed 101” course.
“so let’s start with sativa vs. indica.” he types something in his phone, pulling up a slideshow. “all weed will fall into one of these two, or a combination of some sort.”
“you didn’t have to make an entire presentation??” you gasp. he must really be that eager to teach you.
“just let it happen, trust the process,” he insists. “anyways, you’ve got that sleeping problem, so anything indica would be your best friend,” he explains, showing you different examples on his phone.
“and what about sativa?” you ask, and he grins.
“that, my friend, is what you smoke when you want to have fun.”
you quickly realize that there is so much more to weed than you initially thought.
he jumps from topic to topic on different strains, smoking vs. edibles, joints vs. blunts, pipes vs. bongs — it was a lot. your head spins as you try to recall all the information he’s given you, and he takes notice at the shift in your demeanor, even if you try to feign the same eagerness you had coming into it.
“is it too much? we can take it slower, break it into sessions maybe,” he offers. you’re really wowed at how down he actually is to do this, and if you’re being completely honest, hanging out with an attractive guy while learning about and potentially indulging in some weed plus hopefully getting a good night’s sleep out of it? it sounds too good to be true.
“won’t that be taking too much of your time?” you ask worriedly.
“i’m true to my word, as long as you’re willing to learn, sunshine, i’m all yours,” he says, mouth pulled into his same grin as he downs the last bit of his tea, probably cold now after hours of talking. “plus the next few times you come, i’ll bring my stuff so you can try it out.”
you know you aren’t immune to his charms, and your face warms at the affectionate words. despite the corniness jeno complained about, hyuck had a way of keeping you on your toes while giving you an odd feeling of ease.
“i think i’d like that a lot, thank you hyuck,” you beam. an alarm on his phone rings, and his eyes widen.
“it’s already time to close? time flies,” he says getting up from the seat to start closing up shop. you get up too, ready to head home. “wait,” his voice halts you.
“are you hungry?” he asks a little timidly, a stark contrast for how casual he’s been this entire time.
you’ve been there for a while, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starving at that point. “yeah definitely, my last meal was breakfast,” you recall.
“okay sit tight, then. dinner’s on me, let me close up really quick,” he smiles, and before you can protest, he’s rushing through the break room door. a smile rests on your own face. you pull out your phone to check the time, seeing messages from jeno.
4:29pm jenjen: u ok? he didn’t eat you did he
5:50pm jenjen: dude wait are u ok neither of you are responding to me 5:50pm jenjen: don’t replace me ):
7:15pm you: stop you big baby we were just having a good conversation 7:16pm you: ngl i’m glad you introduced us, i have a good feeling about this jen (:
even after you insist you pay for your own and treat him as thanks for his lessons, hyuck stubbornly refuses and pays for the entire dinner bill. as he pulls up to your apartment to drop you off at home, he places a box in your lap before you exit his car.
“tea?” you ask, eyeing the box. reaching over to your lap again he taps on the box, punctuating his words.
“this right here is something i mixed up a while ago. i’m not the biggest edible person, so when i don’t feel like smoking, i’ll drink some of this. there’s barely any weed in it, but steep it for like a minute and try some an hour or two before you sleep.”
he looks incredibly proud of his own creation, but you’re a bit conflicted. it’s difficult to meet his energy when you’re nervous at the thought of trying weed for the first time on your own.
you don’t voice your nerves, not wanting to dampen his excitement. he’s already given you a lot and you just met the guy.
“thank you hyuck, i appreciate it.” you open his car door, getting down with the box in hand. “see you next week?”
“no problem at all, try that and let me know how it goes okay? i’m kinda not the biggest texter, so call for anything,” he says softly. “i’ll see you next week, sunshine.”
with the nickname sending a buzz through you, you close his car door, padding up to the front of your apartment complex before turning to wave. he waves back, flashing his headlights, and he doesn’t leave until you’re completely inside.
you go into your kitchen, placing the box on your counter. you open it, pulling out a paper accompanied by little tied sachets containing an assortment of dried leaves.
steep for two minutes with boiling water, can steep longer if you want a stronger tea.
-h
you smile to yourself. lifting a sachet to your nose, you note that it smells like a regular bag of tea. he did say there was barely any weed in there, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try?
you double back on that thought. you really don’t know how you’re gonna react to it, and the anxieties crawl back up your throat. what if it doesn’t turn out well, and you’re all by yourself with no way of getting the substance out of you?
you don’t want to risk it. you put the contents back in the box and place it in one of your cabinets. maybe you’ll invite jeno over to try it with you so at least you’d have someone with you if it all goes wrong.
you get ready for bed, hoping that the night brings you even a little sleep.
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your hopes are unfounded when you wake up to a call from your manager, begging you to come into work to help fix an urgent problem. she promises you double pay and breakfast, and reluctantly, you accept.
you head to work with only the idea of some extra money in your pocket keeping you going, but you know already the second you step foot into your work building that you will be fighting for your life for the next few hours.
by the time the sun has set, you’re dragging yourself through your apartment door, wanting nothing more than to sleep for the next 24 hours. you change out of your work clothes, hopping straight into bed and closing your eyes in hopes that sleep will take you.
when your eyes open an hour later, frustration bubbling at your throat from an hour of tossing and turning despite your utter exhaustion, you rip your sheets off, heading to your kitchen.
you open a cabinet, taking out a familiar little box. you’re willing to give this a try — anything to get some good sleep. but anxieties still run through you as you take out your phone to text your best friend.
8:35pm you: jen wyd?
you wait for a few minutes staring tiredly at your phone until a message pops up.
8:41pm jenjen: out with jaem what’s up?
you sigh, letting your friend know to forget it, and open the box. there sits a familiar note, and you trace over the neat handwritng.
call for anything. hyuck’s words ring in your ears. before you know it, you’re moving on autopilot and repeated ringing sounds through your speaker, his name displayed on the screen.
rrrring. rrrring. with every ring you feel more anxious, debating on just hanging up and resorting to melatonin, and when it reaches his voicemail, your heart sinks.
you end the call, placing your phone in your pocket and deciding to look for your forgotten sleep supplements. you don’t even take more than a couple of steps when your phone starts buzzing. you answer without even checking the id.
“__? what’s up?” his voice rings through the speakers and relief floods your system.
“hyuck, sorry to bother, but are you busy right now?” you ask.
“free for you, and not a bother, don’t apologize,” he says, and you can hear the smile on his voice. your cheeks twitch into a slight smile at his sweet words, but the tiredness seeps into your words.
“i’m gonna try your tea.. i’m so exhausted and i can’t sleep but i’m just so nervous about trying this by myself — oh and i called jeno but he’s busy — i’m sorry i ju-” your sleepy spiel is interrupted by his voice.
“woah, woah, sunshine, let’s slow it down a bit. no need to apologize for anything, really,” he assures.
you feel as though you could cry from the combination of relief and sheer exhaustion, now a little calmer explaining your circumstances and nerves at your first time having any sort of weed.
“hey, go ahead and try it, and i’ll stay on the phone until you fall asleep, okay? you can tell me if you’re feeling bad or weird or anything and i’ll be right here.”
“promise?” you ask hopefully. it’s not ideal to be asking someone you’ve known for literally a day to stay on the phone with you, but your tired mind and body scream sleep over shame.
he laughs. “you’re so cute, yes i promise.” you try not to show how much of an effect his words have on you, masking your stirring feelings by warming some water.
in the next 20 minutes, you’re sitting in bed with a cup of hot tea, taking small sips and letting the aroma waft as you chat over the phone. he’s right, the tea tastes nothing like the pungent scent of weed you are familiar with. his tea is calming and herbal.
“tell me about your day,” he requests, and you start from the call from your manager in the morning, explaining how some intern almost cost your company a client under your project, and you had to save their ass.
“you’re too good for them,” he says smugly.
“you’re just saying that, but thank you,” you reply, and he denies it, whining slightly.
“i would never say anything i don’t mean,” he asserts. he acts offended that you would even insinuate he was only flattering you, and you try not to read too much into his words, now halfway through your cup of tea.
“how about you tell me about your day, hyuck?” you ask, changing the subject.
he’s happy to talk about his day, lamenting spending his entire weekend at the shop, but explains how there were a group of unique customers today.
“this guy came in with a few friends, asking us if we have anything that could calm animals?? i honestly don’t know shit about pets but i don’t think tea and coffee are safe.” you chuckle at his animated telling of the story. “he had reeaaally nice eyebrows, though.”
your cup now sits empty on your nightstand, your head resting heavily on your pillow as you listen to him. he’s so expressive, and you hum in response to his ramblings. you have no thoughts besides how pleasing his voice is to your ears.
your eyes feel heavier and heavier as his voice sounds more and more distant.
when you wake up to your alarm set for work chiming the next morning, you feel the most rested you have in months. checking your phone, you see a missed message notification.
10:48pm hyuck =) : sleep tight, sunshine
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a while has passed since your first go at the tea, and it’s three weeks until you are able to see hyuck again. at the beginning of those three weeks, you found that every couple of days hyuck would call, checking in on you. the first few calls never lasted as long as your first did, but soon you found yourself wanting to hear more of his voice.
you started to ask him how his day was before he could hang up, and after a few times of sharing back and forth, nightly calls to talk about your days became a routine.
in all honesty, you wanted to see him sooner, but the work days kicked your ass and different friends made plans on your days off. despite the chaos in other parts of your life, it felt like your nightly calls were what got you through the tiring days.
you were almost out of tea, and resorted to having the tea every other day to save. something must have shifted when you met hyuck, as even without the tea, sleep came much easier with the exception of a few days.
when you call hyuck on a friday night after work, hoping to restock and spend some time with him over the weekend, he meets your request with enthusiasm.
“didn’t realize you missed my lessons so much, my #1 student,” his teasing rings over the speakers.
“actually, youtube is sounding really good right about now,” you reply, putting up a flat tone at his remarks.
“i’m kiddinggggg jeez, come to the shop around 6 tomorrow? dress warm, we’ll try something new,” he instructs, and you agree.
sitting in your living room, you take a sip of the usual tea, noting that you’re down to your last bag. you drift off to sleep that night, and instead of the anxieties you had felt the night before the first time you met him, excitement floods your system at the thought of seeing him.
the next day’s lesson brings you to a new location, still NCTeaHouse, but the cozy back patio behind the store. strung up hanging lights are already lit, given how the sun has started to set, and the lounge couch makes it look like an ideal hangout spot.
“if you see me napping back here one of these days, you better not say anything,” you joke with hyuck.
“you’re always free to, as long as i’m invited,” he winks and you’re shaking your head at his unabashed self. you’ve gotten a lot more used to his flirty words, coming to expect at least a line or two during your nightly conversations.
“anyways, you’re probably wondering why we came out here tonight.” you nod, and he lays the contents of his pockets on the small table in front of the two of you.
“i thought we could try smoking today, if you’re comfortable,” he grins, arranging everything on the table, and you’re impressed by the assortment.
he’s got different bags of weed, wrapping papers, lighters, and little tins. he gets right into explaining, pulling out the contents of the tins. he holds up two rolls, one a little thicker than the other.
“this right here is a joint, it’s just weed. this thicker one is a blunt. it’s got nicotine in the paper so the high is a little different.” he hands them to you to look at and continues. “i prefer blunts, but depending on what you put in them, a regular joint would probably be better for someone who hasn’t smoked before.”
you never doubted jeno’s words, but hyuck really is living up to your friend’s praise of his weed knowledge. you nod in understanding at his clear explanations, handing them both back to him. he sets aside the joint and starts to put away the blunt until you stop him.
“let’s do the blunt,” you quickly interject. despite wanting to go with the more beginner-friendly option, something in you wanted to do what he liked. maybe that way you could get a little taste of his world.
“wait, are you sure? it might be a bit harsh,” he warns.
“trust me, i can take it,” you say stubbornly. he pauses almost unnoticeably with an unreadable expression at your words before it shifts into a dubious look.
“if you say soooo,” he teases. you slap his arm lightly, huffing as he laughs before getting up to grab some water before you begin. he settles back into the couch once he’s back. he picks out a blunt and his lighter, turning to you with a more serious expression.
“this high will probably feel a bit more intense than anything the tea could do, so just take it easy okay? if you start feeling bad, please tell me,” he emphasizes. “promise?” he holds out his pinky.
you nod, linking your own pinky around his. he tightens the hold and you feel your heart tighten a bit in turn. the emotions whirling in you are too complex to decipher, ranging from slight anxiety at the thought of actually being high to gratitude for hyuck’s reassurance.
“just watch, okay?” he places the blunt between his lips, lighter flicking at its edge as he inhales for a few seconds. he holds the smoke in, rotating the blunt a few times before straining his neck up to exhale a hefty cloud of smoke.
the sight leaves you breathless. hyuck is attractive, and of that you have been sure since the day you met.
but this hyuck, sitting next to you in his black leather jacket and dark jeans on the baggier side stirs something inside of you. it’s just one hit, but you’re outright entranced by his movements. he brings the blunt back to his mouth for another hit, and flicks it on an ash tray sitting on the table as he holds in the smoke.
your eyes don’t leave his hands, adorned in a few simple rings as he moves as if it’s just muscle memory, smooth and rehearsed. he again lifts his head to release the smoke, and this time you can see a vein that trails down his thick neck as it comes into full view.
what is likely not even half a minute feels like an eternity to you, and it takes a couple calls of your name to snap you out of your trance.
“earth to __? wanna try now?” hyuck waves his hand in front of you, offering the freshly ashed blunt.
“just a couple seconds, and not too strong of a pull. hold it in for a few seconds before releasing the smoke,” he instructs as you pick it out of his grasp. you nod, bringing it to your mouth.
you do as he says, pulling only for a few seconds before passing it back to him, intending to hold the smoke in. you don’t get to that point though, for as soon as the two second mark hits, your throat constricts as you involuntarily cough up the smoke you pulled from the blunt.
curses leave hyuck’s mouth as he quickly puts out the blunt, scrambling to hand you the water he brought earlier. you take it quickly, letting the water soothe your throat as you continue coughing between sips.
“are you okay?” he asks, worried expression on his face.
“i-i’m good, i thought i was gonna do better than that for my first one though,” you admit sheepishly.
“hey, we’ve got a lot of time to practice,” he reassures.
you’re not sure if the weed is already hitting you, but the warm hanging lights seem to illuminate his face even more. his fingers play with a silver chain laying on his white shirt.
“do you want to try another? or are you good?” he asks, peering into your face to check for any signs of dicomfort.
“i’ll try one more time,” you resolve, and he grins, firing the lighter back up. he holds the blunt up in front of you, and your hand moves to grab it, but he doesn’t let go, keeping it steady in front of your mouth.
“go for it, sunshine,” he gives you the go ahead, still holding it for you as your mind screams at the intimacy. you lean forward a bit to take a small hit of the blunt, trying to ignore his eyes burning into you. you make sure to inhale a little less than the first time.
“goood, just like that, now hold it in for a bit.”
you lean back into the chair as hyuck brings the blunt to his own lips, taking a drag out of it as he watches you carefully. this time, your throat doesn’t constrict, and you blow the smoke upwards emulating his earlier movements.
“that’s my girl,” he praises, smile stretched wide. you were doing so well, but his praise catches you at the very last bit of smoke leaving your throat, causing a hitch in your throat as you lightly cough.
he hands you the water again, patting your back as you curse under your breath.
“don’t worry, it’s still your first time, and i’ve heard coughing after smoking gets you even higher,” he coos, pats turning into gentle circles on your back.
you feel hyperaware of his touch, but when his hand separates from your form a piece of you longs to have it back. you glance at him as he takes another hit. you might not necessarily know what feeling high feels like yet, but whatever you’re feeling right now might just be it.
the anxiety and gratitude you felt coming into the smoke session has melted into something else — a desire of some sort that you can’t put your finger on. you know that’s not from the substance now in your system.
all you know is that the fuzzy feeling in your body and mind along with the dark-haired man next to you is something you could get used to.
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after that day, something definitely shifted. you see hyuck a lot more, and every time he comes more than excited to teach you something new.
the next time you see him it’s pipes. he came prepared with two — one for you and him, and sent you home with the one you were using once you got the hang of it, insisting it liked you better.
another time is bongs. this one was pretty hard for you to get a hang of, and his hands guided yours on how to hold the bong and when to take out the bowl. it was hard to stay focused on the steps with his casual physical contact, so you’d have to revisit that.
one of the days, he even brings his dab rig set up to show you. you were completely lost with this one, and he didn’t force it, just assuring you that you could always come to him and he’d have it all ready and set for you.
he takes pride in showing you his creations, and is always quick to affirm you as you learn. while he never explicitly said he was doing it, you could tell after the first time you smoked that he wanted to find ways to make smoking a little easier on you.
you recall a specific day you came over to the shop, promised the “hyuckie special” by its namesake over the phone the night before. you were surprised to see someone other than hyuck in the shop once you arrived, especially since it was after hours.
“are you the one donghyuck’s been bringing around here?” a tall man with ashy brown hair tucked behind his ears stood behind the counter. he was really handsome, but also slightly intimidating. the tattoos on his exposed arms reminded you of your initial idea of what a plug looked like.
you muttered a timid yes as you approached the man. he definitely looked a little older than you and hyuck.
“johnny, i’m the owner of your little love nest,” he joked, hand reached out to shake yours.
you shook his hand, introducing yourself as you tried to tell him you’re just friends. before you could, hyuck busted through the front door, eyes going to your joined hands.
he stomped up to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you stepped back from the counter.
“what are we talking about?” he asked, pointed look at johnny. johnny just laughed loudly, clutching his stomach as you stood there, confused.
“relax lover boy,” he regained composure, turning to you. “thanks for keeping him busy, i should’ve known something was up when he stopped texting me every week whining about the shop.”
hyuck’s hand tightened around your shoulder, and he started tugging you around the back.
“don’t listen to him, bye,” he called not even looking back. johnny just waved, trying to keep down another laugh at his cousin’s erratic behavior.
“bye, __, see you around!” he waved, you returning it as best you could as hyuck pushed you through the door. as soon as you reached the back patio, a sulky hyuck started grumbling.
“you won’t be seeing him, he’s barely at his own shop anyways.” he plopped down on the couch, emptying his pockets as usual.
a lilac colored tin stuck out among his materials, and you picked it up to see what it was. his familiar neat handwriting spelled out your name.
“made that one for you, think you’d really like it,” he noticed you observing it, sulkiness gone.
a floral, herbal scent wafted to your senses once you opened it, and inside you saw a few joints.
“that’s the hyuckie special — or should i say the __ special?” he pondered, taking them from you to show them off. “i know you secretly prefer joints so don’t argue with me, but this one is a custom blend of a hybrid strain and dried lavender, you know, for your sleeping problem.”
you didn’t know what to say besides thank you over and over, touched at his consideration and the fact that he made a blend just for you. only for you.
from then on, that special blend quickly became your favorite as it really did help you relax a bit more. he would have his blunts of choice while you settled on the special formula made just for you.
your time with hyuck definitely shifted, but it wasn’t the only thing — something in you shifted as well.
that desire you felt that first night you smoked only burns brighter and hotter — the phone calls aren’t ever enough anymore, you need to see him, to be with him. even with a busy schedule with work and other friends, you make time, because being with him feels like nothing you have ever felt before.
somewhere along the routine of monotony in your life, maybe you subconsciously pushed yourself to the back of your priorities. but with hyuck, the way he takes care of you just makes you feel so prioritized, so seen.
he remembers your favorites and preferences even if mentioned only in passing, teases you with inside jokes only he could know, follows up on any gossip or worries you share, picks you up and drops you off at home, and never lets you pay for anything — food or weed alike.
you’ve never had an easier time falling asleep, with or without weed, and you can only assume that this connection with hyuck gave you a way of navigating the anxieties and negative feelings that plagued you. he felt like your person.
you could swear jeno’s eyes could fall out of his head from how wide-eyed he stares at you as you tell him all of this, from the generous lessons to the custom blend to your complex feelings growing by the day.
“you better not tell him any of this,” you warn, but jeno’s expression is still in shock. “what is it?”
“are you sure we’re talking about the same guy? hyuck? like lee donghyuck??” jeno asks in disbelief.
“yes?? who else would i be talking about?” you’re confused by your best friend’s reaction.
“no fucking way, because the hyuck i know would never do any of that. i don’t even think he knows when my birthday is,” he says.
“to be fair, i don’t think he knows when mine is either?” you offer. jeno looks straight into your eyes, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“no i mean to say — he doesn’t pay anyone that much attention, even his friends, and i know he’d never willingly shell out his weed money, let alone every single time you’re together,” he explains. “i thought the weed lesson was gonna be a one- or two-time thing, not a whole series.”
you didn’t think so either. the time you spend together isn’t even lesson-like anymore, with it just being smoke or tea sessions with endless conversation. there’s no clear definitions, but you know you need to ask jeno’s opinion.
“do you think he likes me? like likes me?” you ask your best friend. it feels silly to ask like that, to have feelings that makes you unable to think of anyone else.
but you ask even though you think you know. you’d be blind to not notice his actions, the look in his eyes, and johnny’s insinuations. jeno’s surprise at his special treatment of you is just further confirmation.
“honestly, in my eyes he’s down bad, but do you like him?” jeno asks, unsure if he’s liking where your conversation is going.
you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t. somewhere along the course of this whole thing, that desire that planted the first time you ever met him grew every time afterward and bloomed into something you could no longer contain.
you never tried to deny it, but you’re realizing this is your first time actually admitting it. you look down, suddenly shy under the focused gaze of your best friend.
“jen, i do. i really do like him,” you confess, entire body warming at the quiet declaration.
jeno’s quiet for a second before letting out a groan in response. you look up to see him with a hand over his face.
“what’s wrong?” you’re slightly offended at that response, but jeno just shakes his head.
“nothing, just always knew he was a corny flirt, just never thought you’d eat that up,” he muses. “he’s annoying, but he’s not a bad guy.”
“should i tell him?” you ask, hoping for advice. jeno shrugs.
“that’s up to you, i don’t know what your relationship with him looks like besides what you’ve told me,” he replies, not giving you an answer you so desperately want. “what i do know is i’ll kick his ass if he ever hurts you, and you can never replace me. got it?”
you lunge at your best friend, squeezing him affectionately and barraging him with promises of unchanging friendship.
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you sit at your dining table reading the label of a little bag.
“a friend left this at mine the other day and told me to keep it, but i don’t fuck with weed so you can have it, little miss stoner,” jeno had said, giving you a bag of gummy edibles before dropping you off at home after dinner.
you thanked him for it at the time, taking it with you inside. edibles are the form of weed you are least experienced with. hyuck had explained them briefly, but you’ve never done them with him since he doesn’t really like them too much. he reasoned that smoking helps him control his intake better.
you’re feeling a little daring tonight, however. you have a lot more experience with weed now, and your tolerance has definitely risen.
though you’re a little nervous about trying them without hyuck, it’s too late to call and you feel a bit more confident at your weed capabilities. the you from the beginning of this weed journey would be surprised at how much you’ve changed.
it’s just a little gummy, how bad could it be? plus you have the next day off, kicking that worry. you pull out a single pineapple gummy, splitting it into halves before eating one. you settle into your couch, turning on your tv to let the edible kick in.
when an hour passes and you still don’t feel anything, you’re confused. you look up how long it takes for an edible to hit and check the package for an expiration date, but everything seems fine. has your tolerance risen that much?
you pick up the other half of the gummy, looking at it carefully before deciding it wouldn’t hurt to have a little more. the dosage per piece is not anything concerning, so you eat the other half without thinking too much.
when your eyes start to blur in the next 5 minutes, you know you’ve made a mistake.
you’re glued to your couch, staring at the ceiling as the high runs through your body, feeling a slight tingle from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, coming and going in intense waves. your thoughts race, and 99% of your thoughts are consumed by hyuck, hyuck, and hyuck. **
an uncertain amount of time has passed, your phone forgotten somewhere in your apartment, but you feel like you’re in an endless cycle of a million thoughts turning into no thoughts at all, all while your body is experiencing such a new, yet heavy feeling.
the smoking high is definitely different from this edible high, and you start to understand why hyuck prefers the former.
you don’t feel like you’re in control of yourself at all, and the feeling is entirely too overwhelming. the second half of that edible hits, with the high intensifying and your thoughts jumping yet again.
a feeling of dread runs through you.
you had been doing well keeping a general positive/neutral train of thought on that first half of the edible, but the second a single negative thought hits you, you find yourself unable to stop the spiral.
why did you do this to yourself? don’t you need to focus on other things? are you going to let this be another thing that drags you down? what does hyuck really think of you? do you really think he feels the same way as you?
you fight back against your own thoughts, wrestling to tell yourself that everything with him has been nothing with good, but the intensity of this high brings an entirely new side to all of this — paranoia.
hyuck had explained before that paranoia could come with being high, but you had overtime forgotten the possibility. being high has given nothing but good times and relaxation, but all of that could probably be attributed to the company you had getting there.
you don’t even realize you have tears streaming out of your eyes until your hand comes back wet after rubbing your face.
it’s all too much, and more than anything your mind screams that you need hyuck.
you force yourself to get up, hazy eyes looking for your phone, spotting it on the dining table.
12:27am. hyuck should still be awake gaming, and you can only hope that he is. you crumple to the floor as you quickly find his contact and call him.
only one ring passes when he picks up.
“what’s up, sunshine?” his voice rings through the speaker and you can hear the click of his mouse and keyboard in the background. immediately a sense of relief washes through your body, slightly breaking through the high and has the tears flowing harder than before.
“h-hyuck,” you sob, and immediately the sound of clicking stops.
“are you crying? what’s wrong? are you okay?” his concern makes you want to cry even more, but more than that you want him here with you.
“hyuck, i-i took an edible and i think i took too much and i’m so overwhelmed right now — i can’t stop thinking and crying and i’m just so scared,” you weep, and you hear rustling coming from the phone and the clinking of keys before you’re even done with your sentence.
“stay on the phone with me, baby, i’ll be right there, what’s your apartment number?”
he really knows you like the back of his hand. somehow, he knows that what you need most is him. even if he didn’t know that, the fact that he’s rushing over without you even having to ask helps you shut down the voices that tell you he doesn’t care.
10 minutes of affirmations and sweet words come as you cry, trying so desperately to hold back from telling him everything you’ve been feeling, including what you feel about him.
when his call cuts off with a knock at your front door, you stumble over to let him in, legs having fallen asleep from your position on the floor as you called him.
as soon as you open the door and see him, hair freshly washed and in a hoodie and sweats, the anxiety leaves you like a spell. his glasses are slightly fogged, and he’s catching his breath from rushing up here.
the second he gets a glimpse of your puffy eyes and tear streaked face, he comes in, enveloping you in the warmest, tightest hug.
you immediately melt into him, wrapping your arms around him as he leans back against the front door. you stay there for a few minutes, emptying your eyes out as he comforts you.
“hey, why is my pretty girl crying? what are you so scared of? i’m right here,” he coos as one arm remains securely around you as the other hand alternates between patting your head and massaging the back of your neck.
when the tears seem to have subsided, he waddles over with you still in his arms to your living room couch, and you remain firmly attached to him. he checks your face for anymore tears, and when he finds none, sits you on the couch to get you some water.
“where are your cups?” he asks, checking the cabinets, and you tell him there’s bottles in the fridge. you look at him from your spot on the couch, and immediately feel your heart pang.
this is the first time he’s actually been inside your apartment, but you can’t help but think that he looks so perfect here — that your living space somehow feels more complete than it ever has.
when he sits down with you, handing you tissues and water, he has a hand on your arm, rubbing up and down as you gulp down some water, only now realizing how dry your mouth is.
“so you wanna tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours? and who you got these edibles from? because i know it wasn’t fucking me.” some agitation peeks through his otherwise neutral tone, but his eyes are serious as he waits for your answer.
you tell him about how jeno gave it to you, and hand him the package as he reads the label.
“you had one piece right? that should be fine, but it looks like you might be a bit more sensitive to this since it’s your first time with edibles.” he scolds you lightly, tapping your forehead. “still, i wish you would have called me to at least be on the phone with you when you tried it.”
“i-i wanted to, trust me. but it was late and i thought i could handle it,” you explain.
“that’s why i hate those things, only take them when i really want to feel high as shit, but look what they’ve done to you, baby,” he frowns, going back to rubbing your arms up and down. “any weed needs, you come to me, okay? don’t need my girl going to others for that when i’ve got more than enough.”
my girl.
you realize in your hazy state that his usual “sunshine” has been replaced with other, more endearing, names — my girl, my pretty girl, baby. the sound of his voice has always been addicting to you, but the affectionate names leaving his mouth take it a step further.
you want to hear more. with a boldness that could only be fueled by the weed still running its course through your system, you lean into him, laying your head on his shoulder.
“can you call me that again?” you murmur into his shoulder.
“what?” his voice right next to your ear sends chills all over your body.
“you know.. your girl.. i really like how that sounds.” immediately he’s separated from you, hands holding you at the upper arms as he looks at you with wide eyes.
“what?” he repeats again, and you could almost laugh at how shocked he looks at you mentioning a name he called you.
“your girl.. or baby too..” you say, dazed. you are definitely coming down from your high, but the ensuing sleepiness is making you even more honest. but more than anything, you want to be honest with him right now.
“wanna be your baby, hyuck.”
he lets out a pained groan at your words, running a hand over his face.
“__, you’re high as fuck. you don’t know what you’re saying,” he says, bottom lip between his teeth.
“i know what i’m saying,” you hook your finger around his chain, tugging him a little closer. “i want you to be my baby, too.”
you lean in, closing the distance between you as your faces hover just centimeters from each other. hyuck holds his breath, eyes darting from your glossy eyes down to your lips. he can’t help it, eyes getting hazy as you close the distance, kissing him.
he returns your energy, pressing closer to you with his hands grasping your waist. he moves to deepen the kiss, but after a few seconds the pressure on your waist increases, shutting his eyes tighter before pushing you back slightly.
“i hope you still mean this in the morning, because i want to be yours too,” he has a slightly pained smile. “but you’re so high right now, i don’t want to do anything you’d regret once you’re sober.” you whine at him trying to kiss him again while he stops you, holding your shoulders.
“don’t tempt me, you don’t know how hard you’re making this for me, baby.” he gets up, tugging you up along with him. “let’s get you to bed, sunshine.” he lets you lead him to your bedroom, his hands set on your shoulders, and you plop down on your bed, eyes already heavy.
you hold out your arms to him.
“sleep here tonight?” you ask, and he groans after slapping a hand over his eyes.
“you’re testing me,” he chokes out. you jut out your lower lip, but your eyes threaten to shut any moment.
“i’m not testing you, i just want to wake up to you, is that too much to ask?” in his eyes, you look so cute cuddled up in your bed, eyes begging him to stay. his heart soars as he realizes the sight he’s seen in his dreams could be a reality, starting now.
“i really can’t win against you, just give me a second.” he leaves for a little while, turning off the lights throughout your apartment and making sure the front door is locked before sliding into bed with you.
he immediately pulls you by the waist closer to him, and you, drifting to sleep, cuddle into his chest.
“i won’t do anything okay? don’t worry about anything,” he promises sincerely.
“thank you hyuck.. thank you..” you mumble a bit, nuzzling into him further, sleep taking over. he just holds you tighter.
“sleep tight, sunshine.”
that’s the last thing you hear before you enter into a deep, deep sleep, feeling secure and warm wrapped up in hyuck’s arms.
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you wake up to soft snoring and long arms wrapped around you, and as you rub the sleep from your eyes his face comes into full view.
hyuck is sleeping so peacefully in front of you, and if one thing remains from your raging high last night, it’s that hyuck just fits perfectly in your space, it feels overwhelmingly good in his arms, and you want him here always.
“i like you,” the words come out as a whisper as you brush some hair from his forehead. he pops one eye open, elliciting a gasp from you.
“all good, sunshine?” he asks, and you nod. in a second he’s closing the distance between you two, laying a tender kiss on your lips. his arms tighten around you as you lean into him, letting yourself indulge in his warm kisses.
“this isn’t a dream right?” you ask sleepily, and he chuckles at the way you open and close your eyes to see if he’s still there.
“you dream about me?” he grins, and you hide your face back in his chest, nodding slowly. “good, because i dream about you too.”
any sleepiness you had has dissipated completely, and you feel like your heart would explode if you met his eyes right now. his hand, however, meets your chin to tilt your head back up.
“i like you too, by the way, if it wasn’t already obvious,” and with his own confession he meets your lips once more.
it takes a while for the two of you to get out of bed, with both of you dozing off and on, sharing lazy kisses and cuddles until hyuck’s stomach starts rumbling.
“maybe we should get something to eat?” you suggest, starting to slip off the blanket. he’s quick to try and stop you, but before he can catch you you’ve stood up, tugging hyuck by the arm.
“5 more minutes, pleaaaase,” he whines, arm going limp at your efforts to get him up.
“it’s already almost dinnertime, hyuck,” you check your phone, surprised at how much time has passed. his glasses sit next to your phone on the nightstand. while you’re distracted, he sits up at the edge of the bed, looking at you with a darker expression.
his hands trail down your waist, squeezing lightly once he reaches your hips. you drop your phone to be met with his hooded eyes trained on your lips. his eyes meet yours, and your breath hitches as he tightens his grip on your hips.
“i think i’d like to eat something else,” he whispers, leaning into your neck, peppering kisses from the bottom of your chin down your throat. you let out a surprised whimper at the sensation, chills running down your arms.
you move your head down, wanting to kiss him, and as if he reads your mind, his lips meet yours with a passion mirroring the one from the night before.
“lay down, let me get my fill, sunshine,” he urges, feeling himself already incredibly hard at the thought of himself between your legs.
“we’ve been in bed all day, we should take showers and eat first or something,” you start, but you’re cut off with a sharp tug, hyuck pulling you beside him. he sinks to his knees by your legs hanging off the bed.
“later, i need you so bad, you have no idea.” his hands move under your shirt as he loops his hands in the waistband of your sleep shorts.
“do you want this, baby?” he asks as you lean back on your arms, meeting his pleading eyes from his spot between your legs. you gnaw on your lip, already feeling the dampness on your panties. you do want this. so bad.
“i want you, hyuck,” you give him the go ahead. he’s more than willing to give you everything you want and more. he pulls your shorts down your legs, groaning at the sight of the wet patch on your underwear.
he pulls that off as well, spreading your lips with his pointer and middle fingers as he admires your core.
“stop staring, it’s embarrassing,” you look away, hips shifting as you feel yourself getting more and more turned on by the second.
“just admiring, baby,” he states warmly, glancing up at your embarrassed expression as he wraps his arms around your legs, hands digging in as he grabs at the flesh of your thighs.
he leans in, licking a stripe from your entrance up to your clit, ending his trail with a swirl of your bud. you moan out at the sensation, clutching at your sheets as he really gets his fill.
he’s messy, tongue going from prodding at your entrance to his face moving side to side over your clit. a growl leaves his throat as he feels your hands move to grip his hair.
“you don’t even know what you were doing to me last night, baby,” he groans into your cunt. “had me going fucking crazy.”
one of his arms unwraps from your thigh, hand pushing at your legs to keep them spread as his long fingers prod at your entrance, one entering you slowly as you grip his hair even tighter. he drags it in and out of you in time with the circles he licks around your clit.
“you’re my baby, right?” he asks, voice sending vibrations through you. he inserts another finger into your entrance and curls them into you, feeling around for a spot that will get you moving just right. he’s stretching you out so well, getting you prepared, wanting you to feel good.
you can’t even respond, already feeling your mind start to wander off, feeling a high so different from every other one he’s shown you. he finds a spot that makes you squeal just a bit higher, and he pistons his fingers in and out to hit that spot just right.
“where’s my sunshine from last night? the one hanging on to me, cute as fuck,” he recalls your high state, how you just melted into him in a different way from how he had you now.
“come on, one more time, don’t you remember? wanna be your baby, hyuck,” raising his voice to a teasing tone in a half-hearted imitation of you. his fingers don’t falter in the slightest.
“please sunshine, let me hear that again?” your mouth, open from the cries leaving you, can’t form any words. he leans down to lay a hard suck on your clit, sending you over the edge as you cry out, legs clamping down on his head as he rides out your orgasm.
he detaches from you as your legs drop, and he stands up between them to get a full view of you fucked out for him.
“fuck, baby, you look so fucking good right now. straight out of my dreams.” he palms himself over his sweats, feeling like he could burst any second, before ripping off his hoodie.
the sight of him standing over you, silver chain lying on his bare chest, is also something out your own dreams. you can feel yourself clench seeing his cock straining through his sweats. you catch your breath, mustering the energy squeeze him between your thighs.
in a second he’s pulling his sweats down, hard member slapping his stomach as he lays it on top of your core, admiring how it looks on your body.
“does my pretty girl need to be filled up?” he teases, pushing your legs up as he starts to tease at your entrance with his tip. you want it so bad, need it.
“then let me hear it, you’re my baby, right?” he lets his tip catch onto your entrance as you gasp.
“f-fuck, hyuck, i’m your baby! i’m your ba-” the second half of the word comes out as a shriek at the feeling of him entering you, bottoming out right away thanks to his prep. the feeling of being so full winds you, stealing the air from your lungs.
he hisses as your pussy grips him, throwing his head up. you can see the vein on his neck protruding, thick neck strained as he tries to get himself in check.
“relax for me, please baby,” he pleads through gritted teeth, circling your clit. “can’t move like this, i’ll cum too soon.”
you breathe in and out as the two of you try to reel it in, and his hips start to move slowly as he feels you adjust to him.
“you’ve been my baby since the day we met,” he breathes out. “since the time you told me you could take it.”
his voice has always been addicting, over the phone, in person, sober or high, but the way he talks to you in this moment just stirs something in your gut. you can’t stop yourself from clenching at his words.
“oh, you like when i talk to you like that?” he pulls out to push you up so your legs are no longer hanging off the bed, making his way to hover above you as he re-enters you.
“you’ve always been so good for me, always so eager to learn, always so willing to take everything i give you,” he lowers himself as he says this straight into your ear. his hips pick up the pace again, hissing at the clench from his words.
“can you, f-fuck, can you take it now?” he breathes out as he feels himself reaching you deeper and deeper.
“i-i can take it, hyuck, i can take it,” you moan out, tears pricking at your eyes as you shut them tight. he’s fucking you so well, and you can only moan as you do just that — take everything he’s giving you.
“you know ’d never do any of this for anyone else, o-only you baby, just wanna make my girl happy,” your heart clenches at his words along with your pussy.
“thought m-my heart was gonna stop when, shit, w-when you called me crying,” his words come out more choked as his hips rut against yours more desperately, starting to feel his own high coming.
“need to be with you a-always, be the only reason you’re crying.” you can only chant his name and yes as you feel the band in your stomach start to get tighter and tighter.
“i’d fucking do anything for you, i’m yours,” he chokes out, and your nails dig into his back.
“i’m your baby, i’m yours, i’m yours,” you repeat, brain unable to form anything else. his kisses your neck before moving his head back above you, his chain swinging against your face as his pelvic bone slaps against your clit harshly.
he moves his head up to kiss you deeply, messy remnants of your own arousal still on his toungue. the bed is creaking under the harsh movements as you get closer and closer.
tears stream down the sides of your face as the band snaps, sending you hurling over the edge as your back arches, gripping onto him tightly.
he curses under his breath repeatedly, hips stuttering to push through the tightness as he cums inside with a loud groan, pushing his head into your neck as he fills you up completely.
he goes limp on top of you, lying there for a bit as you both catch your breath. his softening cock is still inside of you, and you can feel yourself getting drowzy until his stomach rumbles.
he hisses as he pulls out, rolling over to lie down next to you. you turn your head to look at him, entire body spent. your eyes meet his, so soft and full of awe. he looks just as worn, but little do you know, he’s just getting started.
“round 2 after dinner?”
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the next morning, a half-asleep hyuck nuzzles you to wake you up, having set an alarm for your work shift.
“sleep okay, sunshine?” his morning voice is deep and groggy, and it’s taking everything in you to not call out for the day.
you feel pretty well rested until you realize how sore your entire body is as soon as you try to wiggle out of his bear hug. his arms wrapped around you are unmoving as he tries unsuccessfully to fully wake himself up as well.
forcing yourself to sit up, you rub your sore back. his hands are still stubbornly attached to your form.
“like a baby,” you reply. you grab your phone, checking your schedule for today, concluding that it’s flexible enough to take a sick day. you text your manager, settling back into hyuck’s arms as you tell him you’re staying home. eyes still half-closed, he presses kisses into every part of your face his lips can find.
“good.” his response is simple as he speaks with his actions, pulling you in closer as the two of you drift back into sleep.
you’re content knowing that your mission to get rid of your sleeping problem was a 100% success, in more ways than just through weed, and that it’s ending with you having more than you could have asked for.
end.
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a/n: if you got to the end, thank you so much for reading!!! i know i say this about every fic i've written, but this one was truly truly self-indulgent. it's my first full fic for my ult, longest fic yet, and a birthday present to myself :')
i really appreciate all the support for everything even though i have long gaps between releases. i have had sm fun, and i hope you all enjoy!! this one's more plot than porn but it's def getting a pt2 that's the opposite (it's already planned). thank you again, feedback always loved and appreciated!!
disclaimer: know your limits when consuming weed of any kind. also not all edibles are bad and can be so chill, just for my personal experience my own tolerance of edibles is low compared to smoking 😭 reactions/tolerances vary among people (edibles work better than smoking for many!) but pls be in safe place or with trusted people if you are trying weed for the first time !!!
-coco ♡
3K notes · View notes
espinosaurusrexex · 5 months
Text
Watchful Eyes
CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU
read Bucky's story here
summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.
a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)
word count: 10.8k
warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!
゚✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。✭・゚✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*・゚
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“Can you start Monday?”
“I can start Monday.”
“Perfect.”
Holy fuckidy fuck fuck. 
You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.  
It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things. 
There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home. 
The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.  
The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did. 
The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away. 
You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you. 
“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. 
Holy Shit. 
Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer. 
Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.
“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”
Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.
“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare. 
“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.
“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.
“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you. 
Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.
The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it. 
You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner. 
“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve. 
“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.
“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”
His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement. 
“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”
“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.
Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”
Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” 
“Sure.”
“I’m serious, Buck.”
“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again. 
Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen. 
As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.” 
“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar. 
Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid. 
“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.
“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table. 
“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City. 
It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted. 
Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat. 
“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.” 
“Just shut up, punk.”
“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.” 
Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible. 
But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends. 
He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction. 
“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”
“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them. 
“You aren’t serious.” 
“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup. 
“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.” 
“You’re rich, too, Sam.” 
Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.
“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.” 
Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.” 
Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now. 
“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked. 
And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great. 
By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.
You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.  
Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite. 
With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule. 
You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do. 
You knew better though. 
People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible. 
Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.
Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so. 
So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work. 
Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home. 
Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.
He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him. 
The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right. 
Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary. 
It was worrisome. 
He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him. 
He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.
You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet. 
“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.” 
Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“
“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?” 
Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock. 
“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little. 
“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore. 
You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way. 
He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward. 
“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 
Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.” 
His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”
He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall. 
After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through. 
Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back. 
The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions. 
He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty. 
The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet. 
You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit. 
“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise. 
“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that. 
“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage. 
But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”
“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.” 
You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him. 
“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude. 
“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.” 
“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.
You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long. 
“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”
“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you. 
“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips. 
“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”
“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent. 
“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”
Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler. 
“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”
“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard. 
“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool. 
“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy. 
This was definitely new.
❁ ❁ ❁
The next week was pure torture. 
Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you. 
It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there. 
Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.
It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before. 
“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there. 
Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off. 
The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was. 
Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell. 
His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants. 
He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants. 
“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip. 
His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video. 
Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress. 
Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer. 
For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream. 
Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst. 
He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.  
Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises. 
“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”
“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”
“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”
“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker. 
“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying. 
“So...?”
“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”
“Yes, very.”
You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”
“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?
“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks. 
“I knew it!”
“Nat, I’ll call you later.”
“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter. 
You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers. 
Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated. 
Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again. 
Happy one month!
Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.
Happy one month.
You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.
You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing! 
“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed. 
“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet. 
“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.” 
Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.
With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work. 
It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office. 
Just like any other day...
❁ ❁ ❁
Boy, had you never been any more wrong. 
Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set. 
But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good. 
“Hello?”
“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.
“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”
“What? When?”
“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet. 
“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end. 
“Amazing! Thank you so much.”
She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk. 
You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.
❁ ❁ ❁
8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island. 
Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on. 
“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were. 
To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top. 
“You forgot your flowers.”
“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too. 
“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”
His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say. 
“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now. 
“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”
“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near. 
“Can I trust you?”
His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”
“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch. 
Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display. 
You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?
His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face. 
So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well. 
Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours. 
Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently. 
Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace. 
No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air. 
Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his. 
“You’re very good at this.”
He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing. 
“What are you doing?”
“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.” 
Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.
“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine. 
“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient. 
“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.” 
You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”
“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them. 
You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”
His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core. 
“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world. 
“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.” 
In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.” 
“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.” 
“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more. 
“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind. 
“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out. 
“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”
“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything. 
You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?
“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”
“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you. 
His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure. 
He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”
“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”
He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs. 
You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him. 
“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”
“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm. 
“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”
“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”
You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating. 
“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again. 
“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”
His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder. 
“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.
“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”
“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach. 
“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”
“I don’t know if I-“
“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind. 
“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”
“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer. 
“Wait. Almost there.”
“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest. 
Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you. 
“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”
And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.
He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him. 
A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure. 
But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone. 
“Good morning, Sharon.” 
“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”
“What? Until when?”
“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”
“Do you know what she has?”
“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”
Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head. 
“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away. 
“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant. 
“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as. 
Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker. 
“Hello?”
Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful. 
“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?
“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning. 
“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?
“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”
You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”
“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”
“I’ll see you.”
And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.
So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts. 
First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m. 
It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.
His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything. 
The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud. 
Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was. 
You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly. 
His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom. 
He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard. 
“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated. 
“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off. 
“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.
You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.
Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.
Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by. 
You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead. 
In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.
Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–
*smack*
His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin. 
“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”
“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt. 
It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra. 
“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”
He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”
You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you. 
“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”
Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them. 
“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat. 
He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”
“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right. 
He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.” 
He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”
“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist. 
Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”
He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much. 
His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you. 
The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation. 
Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.
I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!
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tojikai · 9 months
Text
Sundered 2: EMBERS
Pairing: Gojo x reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ...+
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, implied pregnancy, mentions of abortion
word count: 5.4k
a/n: it's not sad.
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Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.
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Each step that you take away from Satoru’s house feels like a stomp to your already broken heart. Your eyebrows furrowed, feeling the waterlines of your eyes start to get hot and itch. You recalled the noises and laughs that you heard from them while you walked out of their door. 
They have no idea how much you want to get down on your knees and beg them not to take away the only thing you have left. 
Your feet feel heavy with each stride you make toward your car. You could taste blood inside your mouth as you bit your inner lip to channel the pain away from your heart and to your body instead. You found yourself looking for answers on why all of this has to happen to you. As if being replaced by the man you love so easily and having to see how he treats someone else a thousand times better than you were not enough, you also have to witness your own flesh and blood turn away from you. Am I really that far behind that woman?
Is she that much better that even my own child prefers her over me?
You placed your hands on the steering wheel, looking down at your lap as you let the tears fall. You kept glancing over at the gate, hoping that Satoru would come out, running with your baby in his arms. Yet, you don’t want him to see you crying miserably. You swallowed thickly, letting out a large breath in an attempt to get rid of the painfully heavy feeling in your chest.
Driving away was numbing, and all sorts of thoughts ran inside your mind. But above all of them, your eyes were focused on the toy store as it got bigger in your view. You wondered about what you could get your little love to at least make her smile when she comes home. You remembered how your gift to her, her favorite bear that she used to hug as she sleeps ever since she was an infant, was cast aside as she clings to her new ones. 
Is that a foreshadowing of how you’d end up being in her life? It scared you.
Reaching the parking lot of the store, you looked at yourself in the car mirror, noticing your bloodshot eyes. You inhaled and let a big breath out slowly, puffing your cheeks as you assured yourself that it’ll be fine when she comes home later. Your head hurts so much but you can’t afford to care, stepping out of your car and heading to the front door of the store. The first thing you saw was a pregnant, young lady checking baby books. 
She reminded you of yourself when you were still pregnant with Yui; curious about everything, eager to learn, and all was about the baby. You admit that it wasn’t like that at first, given that you were young and had to drop out of college at that time. You were anxious, torn between decisions, and terrified of what life would be like for you from that point in time. During that period, you and Satoru were ignorant but trying hard to figure everything out.
You met Satoru at a nightclub where you worked as a bartender. He was flashy, and women just flock to him as if it was the most natural thing to do around him but that night, his eyes were on you. What with persistent offers of buying you drinks and talking to your manager to let you off early for the night, you ended up in a luxurious hotel suite with him. 
He even wrote his number on the price tag of the fancy lingerie set that he bought you after he ruined the one you were wearing the previous night. He was joking that you’ll never get enough so he’s providing you his contact for next time. You thought that would be the end of it. You didn’t think that it was just fate giving you a helping hand in advance because you’d end up with a child together. 
You consider it a dumb mistake. You know that Plan Bs exist. But with a working student like you who couldn’t even have time to get a proper boyfriend, it slipped your mind. The first thing you did after you got the results was call Satoru. You thanked the heavens that he wasn’t seeing anyone, and that he remembers you. It was a tense meeting, what with you asking if he wants you to abort the fetus. Next thing you know, you two were already dealing with your mood swings. 
“Look, I really want to work this out with you, Y/N. For the baby.” Satoru sighed, slamming the door behind him as he watched you sit on your old couch. You lean your elbows on your knees as you covered your face with your hands, harshly running them down your cheeks to wipe away the big, fat tears that fell from your eyes. There are just so many things going on with your life. 
“I’m only 21, Satoru. I got my whole life ahead of me.” You looked up at his tall figure, frustration was evident in your eyes. You can tell that he was also distressed. His hair was messy, his jaw was clenched tightly, and even if you cannot see behind his tinted glasses, you can tell that he hasn’t been getting enough sleep. The dark half-circles under his eyes and the redness in them show just how exhausted and disquieted he has been in the past few days.
Satoru’s five years older than you. He was born to a rich family of politicians who don't and probably will never need support from him or the other younger generations in their household. He has a stable source of income, he could probably make life investments that could cover your yearly living expenses. He has nothing to worry about, he won’t be dropping anything if he decides to take in another mouth to feed. But you…
You’re basically your mother’s retirement plan and now you got pregnant with a kid of a man you barely know. “Y/N, listen to me.” He got down on his knees in front of you, trying to take your hands off of your face as you sob, struggling to catch your breath. What’s going to happen to you now? You didn’t even get to finish the degree that your mother was working her ass off day and night for.
“You won’t have to worry about anything, you know? I’ll handle everything you need—” He trailed, trying to calm you down as he gently grabbed your forearms. “You don’t understand!” You cut him off, snatching your hands away, aggravated that he’s not thinking about how it could affect everything in your life. “Then, what the fuck do you want to do?!” You flinched as he raised his voice at you, breathing hard as he backed away.
“You think you’re the only one who’s going to be affected by this? You think you’re the only one who’s being robbed of another future! Open your fucking eyes, stop being selfish!” Satoru snapped back, harshly taking his glasses off before throwing it across the room. You started to cry, whimpering as you used the collar of your shirt to wipe your tears away.
“I’m scared, Satoru. I’m just so scared. I can’t even take care of myself, how am I supposed to raise a child…” You broke down, turning your body away from him. There was a long pause, a moment of pure silence, save from your sniffs and Satoru’s ragged breathing. 
You felt the couch dip as he sat down before pulling you to him, letting you cry on his chest.  “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” You would be lying if you said that the back rub, the temple kisses, and his whispers of reassurance didn’t calm you down. Those thoughts were recurring in your head and now that you finally let it all out and got answers from him, you were soothed.
You blinked hard, shaking your head to get out of your trance. You went straight to the dolls section. You can’t believe you just had a flashback of Satoru comforting you in the warmth of his chest. Your mouth started to twitch, wishing that he held you like that earlier when his girlfriend was slapping into your face that they’re gonna give your child siblings. It shouldn’t hurt you, but it still did. You realized that this girl, this woman is gonna have everything you wish you had with Satoru.
You walked past the kiddie pools and trampoline section, stopping when you saw a playpen, almost similar to the one Satoru bought for your little girl but smaller. The size doesn’t really matter though, because you know that you don’t have enough space in your place for something so big, anyway. 
Going closer to check the prices, you bit your lip as your eyebrows bumped together. You were calculating your monthly expenses along with the money for your savings in case of emergency. It’s expensive but you’re determined to cut back just to buy it. You kept your eyes on the tag as you took half a step away from it but your back was met by something, or rather someone behind you.
“It’s not cheap, is it?” A man’s deep voice boomed as you turned around, but your eyes were met by a broad chest. He’s big, you thought. He’s literally blocking your view. It didn’t help that you were short enough to have to look up to see his face. He was also staring at the playpen as he held the pushcart beside him.
“Y-yeah…” You answered, a bit awkward as you found yourself admiring the guy. You admired fathers who are active when it comes to their children. You didn’t grow up with a father so, you just found it endearing. You looked away from the man, gritting your teeth as an image of Satoru and his girlfriend shopping for baby things appeared before your eyes for a split second.
“Excuse me, sir. I still have to buy my daughter a gift.” You bowed slightly before turning away. He just nodded his head, too occupied to even look at you. You proceeded to check out the little dolls, hoping that you’d find something that’ll really catch your daughter’s eye. Picking up a dark-haired baby doll with big blue eyes sitting on a stroller, you smiled as you remembered how it has the same eyes as your baby.
You went to pay for the doll, and your heart was filled with joy despite the throbbing pain in your skull and the hot feeling behind your eyes. You reminded yourself not to forget to take your medicine. Thinking about getting sick and having to leave your child for a couple of days with them again makes you anxious, afraid that she’ll never want to go home to you again. 
You hurriedly went home, driving in the midst of the rain. You put the little doll on the chair, ready to surprise your baby girl when she comes back. You had to bear with the time, constantly checking your phone if your little girl and her dad are on the way to you. Your heart swelled at the thought. 
Though, you know that you’ll never be the one he comes home to, it’s still nice to think about. 
—--------------------------------
“She really called me Mama.” Naomi giggled as she kissed his daughter’s cheek. Satoru smiled, watching them play together warms his heart. It made him feel like he was staring at his family even if he knows that his daughter isn’t hers. He pursed his lips, remembering the look in your eyes at what you heard the child say.
He felt conflicted, not knowing how to react to all of it. He doesn’t want to embarrass his girlfriend by correcting her in front of you. But he also felt bad that he just watched you walk out that door on the verge of tears. Satoru had you memorized after all this time, it wasn’t a long time but he used to watch everything you do.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, though.” Satoru sighed, shaking his head as he pushed a bit of Naomi’s hair away from her face. Her expression dropped as she adjusted the toddler in her arms. Satoru pulled her close to his side, hugging her waist as he thought about how to explain it to her without making her feel disheartened.
“I’m worried about how Y/N will feel about it, to be honest. I don’t know but it may worry her.” He kissed the side of her forehead before stepping away as he watches his daughter’s eyes look at them. He knows that she’s still too young but he feared that she’ll get confused by all of this. 
Like why is her father not with her mother, and why is he holding someone else?
He wondered if she’ll grow to hate him for giving up on their family. “Oh, Is that so…I thought we were fine already.” Naomi’s voice was quiet as she bit her lip, making Satoru rethink. “It’s not that, I just think that maybe that’s how she might feel.” Satoru took one of her hands, kissing it before rubbing his thumb on her soft skin. “No, I understand, I got too comfortable. I’m just a girlfriend, I shouldn’t have done that.” 
Satoru doesn’t want to make her feel like this, she’s just really attached to his baby. He knows that Naomi adores kids, they often joke around about it, so he could see why she’s excited about his daughter calling her Mama. Thinking about it now, maybe this shouldn’t be so bad. After all, she’s not gonna be just a girlfriend to him forever, right? Naomi is a great person, and Satoru thinks that it’s not impossible to have a future with her.
“Don’t say that. That’s just my assumption. She’ll tell if it’s not alright, I know. We’re co-parenting so we have to talk about those stuff.” Three squeezes to her hands made Naomi smile sweetly at him, her eyes as kind as the stars. “Yeah, discussions are important. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to keep her away from us.” The calmness in her voice comforted Satoru.
—-------------------------------------
After receiving a text from Satoru, you found yourself staring at the mirror, retouching your makeup like it’s gonna make him fall for you. Hopeless. Not long after, the doorbell rang and you dashed to the door. There, Satoru stood with Yui asleep on his shoulders. You took her bags, along with the teddy bear that she was hugging to her chest. Seeing her holding it again made you feel relieved.
“Are you feeling better now?” Satoru inquired, walking past you to put your kid in her little bed. You hummed in response, “She’s full, don’t give her any more milk. Naomi fed her before she fell asleep.” Her again. You thought as the small smile on your face dissipated. You’re just thankful that he didn’t take her with them here.
There was a moment of silence as the two of you watched your daughter sleep peacefully. A sigh escaped Satoru’s lips before he turned to you. He was about to say something, but closed his mouth, thinking. You took a deep breath, pursing your lips as you collected your thoughts. You started to rub your hands together, trying to get rid of the cold feeling on your fingertips.
Your communication issues with Satoru only worsened when he got a girlfriend. Seeing how he is with her made you doubt the importance of your words to him. It’s like if you get stuck in a room together with her and something happens, you’re almost certain that he’d accuse you first. You wouldn’t admit it but you yearn for him. You yearn for the way he acts towards her. You yearn for the things he does for her. 
You yearn for the things he so easily, willingly offer to her; things you had to beg for when you were still together.
“Satoru, I just want to ask…Since when did Yui start to call Naomi Mama?” You looked at the ground, somewhat embarrassed of your question but can’t pinpoint why. It just made you feel…weak and insecure. And you are that. But you can’t let Satoru see it. You don’t want him to feel even more sorry for you. You can see it in his and his girlfriend’s eyes whenever they look at you. They probably pity you and the state you are in. 
Alone. With no one to hold your pieces together but you.
“I don’t really remember. Look, I was going to mention that…” Satoru trailed, looking everywhere but you. He probably noticed your discomfort earlier. “I know it doesn’t seem right to you because she’s just my girlfriend but…” Here’s the “but” again. How come he can always find the good when it comes to her, even when she literally did you so wrong by letting your daughter call her Mama and even acting like one in front of you?
Ever since Satoru got a girlfriend, arguing with him started to feel like fighting in a war without any type of armor in your body. How are supposed to stand strong, when the fact that he’ll always be on her side was your weakness? There were times when you wanted to fight for yourself but you couldn’t bear to because you know that he was shielding her from everything, heedlessly deserting you.
“I didn’t really appreciate it. I mean… I-I just think she’s not in the place to—” You thought the words you chose to describe the situation were too risky when you were cut off by Satoru, taking his glasses off. You can’t read him but he’s looking at you with that apologetic gaze again. His face was filled with contrite and you can’t quite understand why. But like a mouse sensing danger, you wanted to run away.
“I…I’m thinking about proposing to Naomi.” It shouldn’t hurt. You told yourself again. You don’t have the right to feel hurt. This man disrespected you, hurt you, and made you feel so incredibly small yet here you are, wishing you were the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. “I know she’s just my girlfriend now, but it’s bound to change.” You suddenly just wanted him to leave. “She…she’d like to ask for permission to let our daughter call her Mom. You know she treats Yui like she’s her—” 
“I don’t want to.” You whispered firmly through gritted teeth, cutting Satoru off. You don’t wanna hear it anymore. You can’t go through that again and you can’t let that happen again. “Yui is my daughter, and I don’t want her calling anyone else Mama.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes before turning away to walk out of the room, not wanting to startle the toddler from her slumber. Satoru was instantly on your tail, calling your name.
“She’s my daughter, too. Y/n, what is wrong? I know that you have your limitations and that’s why I’m here to talk about it with you, but why are you acting like this?” He walked closer to you, trying to catch your eyes. “I know it’s not just about this, I know you’ve been having problems with her but give a reason, at least. She’s been nothing but good to our kid. ” It’s getting hard for you to breathe as you tried to process your emotions and his questions.
You proceeded to the kitchen, hurrying to grab yourself a bottle of water before you collapse, but failing terribly when Satoru spoke the next sentence “Y/N, we all have to adjust, don’t be unfair to her, she doesn’t deserve it.” 
“And I do?!” You shouted at him, taking him by surprise and making him take a step back. 
“You think she doesn’t deserve any of that shit but I DO?!” You lamented, shaking your head in pain and disbelief. There were tears streaming down your face and no pattern of breathing can help you control it. You were able to keep it in when he shoved his new girlfriend in your face several months ago, but now it’s taking its toll.
You were about to get the clothes that he bought for your daughter on your way home from work but were met with a woman snuggled up to him on his couch. You hated him for allowing you to see them like that when he knows that you haven’t even processed your split yet because a month before that, he was saying that he could fix his shortcomings for you and his daughter. 
You remember how sick you felt in your stomach when he introduced her, saying that you weren’t supposed to see them like that. It’s revolting; how he thought that you were upset because of what you saw and not because he just went back on his words. Naomi kept her head down, standing in front of you as she muttered an apology before scurrying to Satoru’s room. 
Naomi was his father’s new assistant and unlike you, she got to finish her studies. Despite being classmates in high school, she was three years older than you due to the frequent relocation of her family. Regardless of her tough childhood, she was known to be a smart kid. No wonder his mother approved of her in such a short amount of time. 
You and Satoru were never perfect but it doesn’t mean that you were never happy with each other before. The issues overpowered your interest in each other, making it hard for the two of you to bounce back. You admit that you’ve been negligent of Satoru at a certain point of your relationship but it was only because you got tired of his ways.
He would come home late, making you stay up all night because he failed to reply when you texted him, asking him his whereabouts. He’d be out drinking with friends, and it wasn’t a problem but you just wanted him to at least let you know so wouldn’t be worrying to the point that you can’t even sleep.
His mother was overbearing. You got pregnant by someone’s son in a one-night stand and that’s all she paints you with. You were belittled and told that you can’t even take care of the child properly. Hell, was she so eager for Satoru to leave you and find someone better who achieved something in life.
Consequently, this negligence led to fits of jealousy from Satoru. This drove you to quit the job you used to have after a coworker of yours who only wanted to help became the subject of his suspicions. His mother saw you getting dropped off by your friend while she was babysitting your daughter. 
It was only because your car broke down and you don’t want to bother Satoru at work. You couldn’t really blame him for thinking that way because you know that he’s been feeling invisible to you which wasn’t true. You just don’t know how to deal with it anymore and you started to pull yourself away.
It got to the point where you couldn’t even communicate how you truly feel about him because it was overshadowed by your problems. You were arrogant enough to tell him that someone could treat you right and do much better and now, look at you; standing before him and his girl. Longing for him and eating the words you spitefully told him.
Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.
The memory was tormenting, heart-rending, and traumatic to you. And now you get to watch them write their happy ending while you are here, left in the dust, drowning in the feelings that will never ever get recognized and will never ever be relevant. 
It hasn’t even been a year, and he’s already planning to marry her. He’s been nothing but better to her, yet, he couldn’t even change his ways for you and your child? Couldn’t he learn to truly love you after everything you endured just to be with him? You know that you have flaws, and chose some wrong steps and paths in your relationship. 
But you can’t bear to lose him like this. You know that you could have fought more for your relationship. He’d always say that you’d work things out. So, why did he stop? How could he stop choosing you so easily?
“How could you give her the world, yet refuse me the tiny bit of what I have left?” 
Your voice was small as you backed away, defeated. Satoru couldn’t move. From everything that has happened that morning, he could tell that you’ve been on edge. To Satoru, the only thing that connects you to him is his daughter. He refuses to believe that after all of that, you can still make it work.
At least, that’s the realization he came about when he met Naomi. She taught him that love isn’t supposed to be strenuous, it isn’t always about fighting. Within his tumultuous relationship with you, she came around and showed him that he’s seen. That his feelings are valid. He came to the conclusion that maybe he just wanted to love you because you have a child together. 
“Tiny bit?” He asked, frustrated that you just won’t let this go easily, irked that you always think you’re the only one having a hard time. If Satoru’s being honest, he’s just tired of it all. He just wants you to understand his point and get it over with. But now you’re crying in front of him and again, he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t even think of the right things to say or the right decisions to make. It’s like it’s all back to square one with you.
“You call it ‘tiny bit’ when I couldn’t even live my life because of you?! I’ve given everything, Y/N! I just want to be at peace with everything and I’m obviously not having it with you!” You couldn’t even breathe through the piercing ache in your chest from the daggers that are coming out of his mouth. Your hand reached over to your chest, grasping your shirt as his every word irreversibly pulverized your already wounded heart.
“I wish I never met you that night and I wish I never had Yui with you. You’re a thorn in my side, Y/N!” By the time he finished screaming at you, you were shaking like a leaf, grabbing a chair beside your table as your wide eyes stared at him in shock. Grief, mortification, and agony were plastered on your face, and only then did Satoru’s words sink into him.
“Y/N, I—” Before he could even form a proper phrase, a loud cry erupted from the other room. Yui. He watched as you quickly wiped away your tears, seeing the emotions mix inside your eyes until they turned into a weeping void with all the tears pooling inside them.
“I…I loved you, Satoru. And I hate that even now when you’re kicking me while I’m down for the sake of someone else, I still love you.” The crack in your voice had Satoru subconsciously moving closer to you, opening his arms to pull you into him but you were quick to flinch away, sniveling.
“Please, just-just go. Do whatever you want, just d-don’t take Yui away. I’m fine with it now, Satoru.” It’s almost as though something in you died when he spoke those words to you. You don’t know if he heard because you couldn’t even hear yourself. You could feel the beat of your heart in your chest and each one of them sends a burning ache to your body. “Just go, please.” You whimpered as you bit your upper lip, looking down on the floor. 
Satoru can’t take his eyes off of your fragile figure as you leaned on the kitchen counter, slowly walking back to your daughter’s room. He remained unmoving until you exited the kitchen area. It was only after a few minutes that he decided to go, not bothering to wipe away the tears that rolled down his face as he listened to your muffled cries behind the closed door.
Each sob was filled with anguish that Satoru knows he’ll never be able to erase.
—------------------------------------------------------
A few weeks later have passed yet Satoru still doesn’t know what to make of himself. He couldn’t focus on anything that he works on. He couldn’t even workout properly, he always ends up getting angry. It was a good thing that both he and Naomi were swarmed with tasks; they didn’t have time to interact any more than what their jobs would allow. If they did, Satoru isn’t sure if he’ll be able to focus on her. She still has time to visit every week, though. During those days, she spends her time with Satoru and sometimes, Yui.
He makes sure to free his time and himself completely when he’s with his daughter so he can give his full attention to her. Satoru picks her up from your house, same schedule as before. Sometimes it’s you, but other times, it was your mother. “All I asked of you was to never break her, Gojo.” were the first words she spoke to him. Satoru can’t look her in the eyes. Your mother was a kind woman, humble and unjudging. And to have her talking to him like that, Satoru was beyond ashamed.
He couldn’t give her a reason, or an answer. All he did was apologize. Like he should. Naomi was unaware of it all and the proposal that Satoru was planning for her was set aside due to all that had happened. He just doesn’t think it’s the right time to plan about it when his relationship with you is strained. Yes, you’re not together anymore but you’re still the mother of his child and he wants to be civil with you, at least.
Yui kept asking for you even when she was with him as if sensing that her Mama was hurting. She’s always carrying the new doll that you bought for her. Satoru once asked her if you cry and she would simply shake her head. He gets nothing out of it, of course, she’s just a kid. But who else could he ask?
Satoru has no idea what you have been doing. He knows that you go to work, but other than that, he’s clueless about the places you go to and why your mother started babysitting his daughter more during the past few days. Satoru thought that maybe you just can’t stand seeing him anymore and is refusing to face him whenever he picks his daughter up. You have every right and reason to despise him, after all.
So, now he stands on the other side of your door, wondering if he’ll get to see your face this time or be welcomed with the frowning face of your mother. He knocked three times, like he always does, adjusting the collar of his shirt. To his surprise, it wasn’t any of the two women he was expecting holding the door open for him. 
“Who are you?” A shirtless man with a muscular build stood before Satoru, a curious yet accusatory gaze scanned him like he was an intruder in his own woman’s home. He leaned on his tattooed arm against the doorframe, blocking the tiny view he has of the inside. It pissed him off, clenching his jaw for a few seconds before speaking.
“Who are you?” Satoru bit back, raising his brows in an attempt to intimidate the guy. He’s only a couple of centimeters taller than the stranger but he’s bigger. It wasn’t a big deal to him until the man opened the door wider. A short, deep chuckle escaped his lips before a smug smirk appeared on his face. 
Tilting his head, the man gave Satoru a clear look at the scratches adorning his nape and the purple and maroon marks on his jaw. It made Satoru’s blood boil, unreasonably so.
“Think you know who I am now?” 
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meiieiri · 2 months
Text
𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 [toji fushiguro]
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synopsis: so she tells him not to cry over the injustice of a life cut too short for at the end of all this, she’ll only be a dream.
pairing: ex-husband!toji fushiguro x terminally ill wife!reader | song inspo: soon you’ll get better, cancer
warnings: heavy angst, terminal illness (primary bone cancer, stroke and MS), mentions of divorce/past infidelity, allegories to cheating, major character death. please read at your own risk. | a/n: this was so heavy for me to write, i started writing at 2 in the morning, and it’s 6:34 now.
word count. 3k~
“Why can’t you do anything right?”
Toji should have noticed, he laments as he takes a sip of his cognac. He should have sensed that something was wrong sooner, maybe that way, he wouldn’t be begging to borrow some more time to make things right. Your fingers were trembling that day — the first time you ever ruined his morning coffee — your hands shaking uncontrollably as you washed the mug with a sorrowful look on your face, your eyes glossy with the tears you were desperately trying to hold back.
He shouldn’t have been so harsh, he realizes that now. Breakfast had been burnt to a crisp and ruined, sure, but nothing could compare to how he constantly ruins the one beautiful thing that has ever happened to him, who haphazardly spilled her smoothie on him when they first bumped into each other in Shinjuku just after he finally cashed in enough money with Shiu to get his laundry done.
Toji, whose senses have now been honed to pick up on the slightest of your sluggish movements and your pained and suppressed hisses, hears the bedsheets rustling and he instantly gets up before you could even force yourself out of bed. “Hey, hey, easy now.” He catches you before you could fall backwards onto the mattress, your skin appears cold and clammy, your thinning muscles stiff as a board — you must be having one of your episodes again. “What do you need?” he asks, his voice heartbreakingly gentle for the first time in months.
“Water.”
Your husband nods, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, hurriedly making his way to the dining table which was now kept in your bedroom so you aren’t forced to move around too much. The sound of water splashing into the glass fills the air and you feel another stabbing pain coarse through your joints.
Toji gingerly brings the glass of water to your lips and you sighed, an exasperated yet amused smile on your face. “I can do it, babe. Don’t worry.” Why did that sound like you were trying to convince not just Toji but yourself? You bring your bony hands to grip the glass and it takes everything out of your husband not to break into a fit of sobs when he sees your hand violently shaking with effort just to keep the glass steady.
His larger hands close around your defeated one. “I-I…I can do it, I did it yesterday. Y-you saw me.”
“Shhh, I know, it’s okay.”
You bite your lip to distract yourself from the anguish of realizing the truth behind the doctor’s words. Everything you feared was finally becoming your and Toji’s bleak reality.
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“It’ll be a painful decline.”
Funny how you’re the one fighting to extend your life but Toji feels like he’s already gone ahead and passed on. Just a few minutes earlier, you were overjoyed to see him again. You didn’t think he’d see your text thinking that his new girlfriend must have asked him to block your number, and you most certainly didn’t expect him to arrive when you asked for him via a brief phone call to drive you to the hospital for your monthly checkup since he took the car with him when you separated. He made up a bullshit excuse when Yuko asked where he was going in such a hurry and he makes it to your old shared apartment to see you sitting on the driveway looking thinner and sicklier than ever — your eyes were sunken, and your cheeks were hollow.
Yet in spite of that, you gave him the brightest of smiles, waving shyly to him as he steps out of the driver’s seat. “Happy morning!” you smiled, greeting him with your signature good morning tagline which he used to happily wake up to everyday. There wasn’t a scintilla of resentfulness in your demeanor, and you genuinely looked so happy to see him for the first time since he moved out.
“How long?” Toji asked the doctor, his heart twisted into knots when he hears you happily humming in the MRI room as you put your clothes back on, oblivious to the solemn mood in the other room. You already knew what was going on, but you’ll just continue pretending that everything’s alright and that this is nothing more but a case of fatigue so as not to inconvenience Toji.
“A year, maybe even less.”
“And…you’re saying it’s best if she simply…doesn’t get the treatment?”
The doctor sighs heavily. She’s seen many cases like this before, but none as utterly hopeless as yours. Even if you did start the treatment, the lesions in your spinal cord have already entered the most severe stage, you were already exhibiting signs of autonomic nervous system distress — the tremors, the uncontrollable stuttering of your words, the growing loss of balance — and as if that wasn’t enough, the doctor also discovers that you were suffering from primary osteosarcoma.
There was no way to cure you now that it’s too late.
“I suggest we just focus on keeping her comfortable. The only thing left for us to do now is to bring her home. I’m so sorry.”
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“You’re so fucking embarrassing. I can’t bring you anywhere.”
By some miracle, you and Toji went out one night around four months before the divorce proceedings. He went home that day, exhausted beyond all belief from another mission, but he was in a good mood. Yuko was out working late tonight, so, he decides to take you out to your and his favorite izakaya for some yakitori.
Some time during the night, after downing three full bottles of sake together, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. “I’ll be right back,” you told Toji, tipsily kissing him on the cheek as you hop off the bar stool in the direction of the women’s room.
You couldn’t tell if you were staggering from the copious amounts of alcohol you ingested, but your legs were beginning to feel heavy, and for some ominous reason, you were slowly losing all sensation in your left leg. You try to hold onto one of the izakaya’s shōji panel decor pieces to regain your balance, but it was a futile effort in the end. Your knees suddenly buckle, and a sickening crack tears through your tibia as you fall to the ground.
“Are you alright?!”
Toji picks up on the commotion instantly and he sees the izakaya patrons crowding around the hallway leading to the restroom. He quickly makes his way over and a look of disgust appears on his features when he sees you crumpled on the ground and the mortifying sight of you having relieved yourself on the floor, tears of embarrassment staining your cheeks at the thought of your body suddenly malfunctioning like this.
Muttering out an ignorant apology for his seemingly drunk wife, he roughly picks you up, growing increasingly infuriated with you when one izakaya employee offers him a damp cloth to dry out your urine with. It was funny how quickly other people came to your aid — people whose names you don’t even know — while your own husband seems very reluctant to even touch you right now. He doesn’t speak to you on the way home even as you apologize while he’s loading you into the car, grimacing when the leather seat gets wet. “Toji, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened—“
“—Save it.”
What he should have said was: “Are you okay?”, “It’s alright.” or better yet, “I still love you.”.
At present, Toji decides on a whim to take you to Yokohama’s famed bayside today. It’s only a two hour drive from your place in Tokyo and Toji figures you must miss going on road trips by now with you cooped up at home all the time. “Toji, are you sure this is a good idea?” you murmured nervously as the car pulls to a stop by the bayside promenade. What happens if you can’t control yourself again? There doesn’t look to be a lot of public restrooms nearby.
Toji plants a reassuring kiss to your nose. “Babe, you remember what the doctor said, spending some time outdoors can do wonders for your health. Besides, didn’t you always love the coast?” He brings your hand to his scarred lips, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin before stepping out of the car to retrieve your wheelchair from the trunk.
“I know but what if I have another accident?” you said worriedly, rolling down the car windows so he could hear you. “What if I embarrass you again?”
“There’s nothing embarrassing about you.”
You’ve lost all control of your lower extremities three months ago, rendering you unable to walk and feel when you need to relieve yourself. Toji struggles with the wheelchair for a bit and a flash of sadness fills your heart when you see him take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He wasn’t angry, he was devastated. He looks wistfully at the boardwalk, a distant gaze trained on the sea. He remembers when you used to walk down this very lane, his hand protectively around your waist as you happily take selfies. He could still hear your fond giggles the last time the two of you went here.
“Why don’t you ever smile when I take pictures of you?”
Toji shoos away a pigeon from stealing a bite of his ice cream sandwich. He feigns an unamused look when you try to take another picture of him on your phone.
“Come on, I’ve been trying to get a shot of you all day! You still have to take pictures of me so I can post it on my Instagram feed!”
Your ever moody husband pinches off a small piece of bread and feeds it to the nosy pigeon. “You and your precious feed,” he bemoans jokingly.
“Please? Just one picture!“ you playfully nudged him. Truthfully, you just wanted to see him smile for once, a genuine one and not one of those lopsided smirks he usually gives you when he’s teasing you. “Please?” you pout knowing he can never say no to that adorable face you make when you really want him to do something or worse, buy something for you.
Sighing, he turns to look at your phone’s camera lens and you blush when a smile slowly illuminates his usually stoic face. Your thumb hovers over the stop recording function, not realizing you’re taking a video, but you can’t seem to press it. “What’s taking so long?” he holds the smile like he’s some cartoon character and you snap out of it.
“Oh shoot, it’s a video!” you laughed, and you begin to run down the boardwalk, eagerly getting away from Toji who demands that you delete it immediately. Of course, you’re no match for his borderline inhuman speed attributed to his athletic physique and he catches you by the waist, playfully swinging you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes.
Now, your giggles have gone silent.
Toji realizes now he should have indulged you more over the course of your relationship and subsequent marriage. Had he known that you won’t even make it to your third wedding anniversary, he would have allowed you to take as many pictures and videos of him as you’d like, he’d swallow his pride and he’d give you the brightest of smiles so you could happily post him on your social media accounts with a heartwarming caption about him being your “smiley hubby”.
More than that though, he should have taken more photos of you, mostly stolen candid shots, of course. You can’t catch him being all soft on you now. He still has a reputation to live up to after all. But more than that, had he known that your illness was intent on stealing every scrap of you from him, he should have made more effort in preserving all these memories. He should have kept everything from those toll tickets on your late night drives together when the two of you just needed a quick escape from the world, to receipts from your trip to Tokyo Disney Sea on your first wedding anniversary, and even simple convenience store receipts.
Toji should have kept everything down to the smallest of memories knowing one day, that’s all he’ll have to remember you by.
He opens the passenger seat’s door and he effortlessly gathers you into his arms, being extra careful with your fragile form as he sits you down on the wheelchair. He opens the backseat and he pulls out two different colored blankets, one sea-foam green and the other, rose pink. “Take your pick,” he smiles at you and you chuckled softly, pointing to the rose pink one. He happily covers your legs with it to keep you warm, stroking your cheek when you whisper a bashful ‘thank you’.
Suddenly, the wind picks up and your hair-clip that’s holding your locks in a low bun comes loose, and your head turns in the direction of where it flew off to. Toji is quick to take out his phone and he snaps a quick burst shot of you, your hair blowing in the wind, under the coastal spring weather. You turn to look at him and your face falls when you see him burying his phone in his pocket. Since you fell ill, you’ve become insecure of your appearance, banning your husband from taking pictures and videos of you altogether. “Toji, I thought I said no pictures.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The next day, you serendipitously find your photo on your Instagram handle with the caption: “Y/N — Yokohama, Spring, 2024” and when you swipe left, another picture, well to be more accurate, a screenshot of the video clip you accidentally took of him captioned: “Toji — Yokohama, Summer, 2022”.
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“You don’t have to stick around for me. Please just go, I’m sure Yuko must be looking for you right now.”
Yuko, his new fiancé, had been blowing up his phone the entire day with texts demanding to know where he is and if he’s going to make it to their date that night. It’s 7 PM now, and Toji still hasn’t shown up to confirm their restaurant reservations. The damn witch will surely cuss him out when they see each other again, but for some reason, even if he tries, he simply cannot bring himself to give a flying fuck. Your immunologist and oncologist stepped out for a bit to allow you two a brief moment of privacy which had now stretched to an expanse of five hours since your results came in.
The air in the room is thick and heavy, not a single sound can be heard. Inside however, underneath this tough exterior he was projecting, Toji is throwing a fit, screaming at the sky like those broken men in those shitty Netflix romance tragedies he used to callously make fun of.
“Why didn’t you call me sooner? You knew, didn’t you?”
Toji’s bites his cheek trying to keep a lid on his emotions. He knows the answer. He just wants to hear you say it out loud. You hated him. You wanted nothing to do with him after he cheated on you with some girl he met at a bar in uptown Shibuya. That’s why you didn’t tell him, he didn’t deserve to know. “Shit,” he whispers harshly, crumpling the medical abstract in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Was it because you hated me? Is that it? You didn’t think I’d worry about you?”
You screwed your eyes shut, shaking your head. You didn’t hate him, not even when you have every reason to. He abandoned you, left you to waste away and to die and yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to resent him for the simple reason that he is the literal love of your life, the reason behind your smiles, your happy mornings and passionate midnight hours. “At first, I thought I was fine, maybe just fatigued or something.”
“Don’t lie. You knew something was going on and that something in your body was seriously fucked up.”
“And we weren’t married anymore so, I didn’t think it was right to tell you…I wanted to though, but I didn’t want to intrude on you and Yuko,” you said meekly. Even in your greatest hour of need, you were still thinking of him, putting him first even when he doesn’t deserve it. “I-I…I don’t hate you enough to worry you, to make you feel that you could have done something to prevent this. Because I’m telling you right now, regardless if you were faithful or not, I was bound to get sick anyway. You couldn’t have done anything to change that.”
“But I could have been there. I should have noticed. I shouldn’t have downplayed everything.” He says this as if he wants to shake this noble, self-sacrificing bullshit attitude out of your system. “I’m your husband. I should have been there.”
You flash him a heartbroken smile at his little slip-up, so, even now, he was still referring to himself as your husband, not your ex-husband. “To see me waste away? Babe, I don’t want you to see that.”
You begin to feel tears streaming down your face, the emotions you were experiencing now flowing like a free river after an entire dam is destroyed. Toji watches you unravel before his eyes and his bottom lip begins to tremble. What has he done? Dear god, what has he done to his poor, poor wife?
“I want you to remember me healthy, I want you to remember me as myself not this…sickly pitiful woman you’re unlucky to call your ex-wife…besides, after all this, I’ll only be a dream.” A mere passing second in his life. “And believe me, my life wasn’t so bad.”
He loses it at that.
“Just stop this, Y/N! Stop acting like you’re not scared shitless of dying, like you’re not gonna have regrets once all this is over! Stop pretending that things are gonna be alright one day because it won’t! Not when I’m now being forced to accept that you won’t get better, not when I’ve wasted so much time putting you through hell and back instead of taking care of you like a proper husband should, and certainly not when I’m suddenly supposed to learn to say goodbye and to live without you! Because fuck that, Y/N!”
You are left speechless at that.
Toji was never one to lose his cool, even during your worst arguments, he may slide a few snarky remarks here and there but Toji Fushiguro…never yells, and he doesn’t sob either.
You hesitantly stand up and walk over to him, crouching down in front of him as he covers his tear-stained eyes with his right hand while the other is crumpled around your medical abstract. Taking his left hand, you gently remove the medical abstract from his grip, and for the first time in so many months, you feel one another’s warm skin against each other. You press your forehead to his hand as you wept with him.
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you to be a dream. I want you to be real.”
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“Can’t you be bothered to clean up in here?!”
You wake up from your nap, you’ve been battling muscle and joint pain the entire day, the slightest of movement causing you to double over in agony and because of that, you weren’t able to clean the apartment today. You slowly get up from the couch, being extra cautious not to make any sudden movements. “Well?” Toji presses, his lips curled into a scowl.
“I’m sorry, I was feeling a little tired,” you sighed heavily, picking up a broom to sweep the living room floor despite the excruciating pain you were in. Toji rolls his eyes, handing you a Manila envelope. “What’s this?” you asked softly, peering inside.
“Divorce papers,” he shrugs nonchalantly. Everything stops, even the very rise and fall of your chest halts into an uneasy stasis. “I already signed them. I just need your signature then, I’ll move out by tomorrow.”
You must be dreaming. That’s the only logical explanation to all this. You’re asleep, in a deep REM sleep, utterly oblivious to the world. This wasn’t happening. But you could feel the rough surface of the brown envelope, and you could still feel the agonizing stabs of white hot pain throughout your body. Glancing at Toji, you see him texting someone with an eager look on his face that screams: “I’m free.”.
Instantly, it dawns on you.
“Will she make you happy?” you asked, putting down the broom to look around for a pen but Toji pulls one he stole from the law firm office out of his pocket.
“She will,” he answers simply.
And you are indeed grateful that he is completely upfront about finding another while the two of you are married. It would have hurt much more, you silently remind yourself, if he had just upped and left without another word leaving you to wonder what went wrong between the two of you. This was Toji’s final act of mercy in your marriage, and he’s not opposed to honesty and truthfulness either. Not once did he try to change his phone’s lock-screen passcode, nor did he try to conceal the identity of the woman who was texting him every night while you slept fitfully next to him. It was almost as if he wanted you to find out, like he wanted you to know so you could back off yourself.
But if there’s one thing Toji loves about you, it’s your unending faithfulness to your promises, to your marriage vows, and your willingness to endure anything he threw at you. You never checked his phone, you never brought up his affair, you never got angry with him. You just kept silent, simply content with giving and giving…and giving while he milked you dry by taking, and taking and taking, tearing you to pieces bit by bit without hearing a single complaint fall from your lips.
You were a devoted wife, through and through.
And it bored the hell out of him, on top of your recent mishaps, he was done. Done with everything, and done with you.
“Okay.”
Come morning, he takes everything he owns with him and promptly proposes to the girl he’s been seeing for the past year. Two weeks later, your divorce is received by the Tokyo Family Court and is summarily approved and finalized. From that moment on, you and Toji went on your separate ways never to look back, you were each other’s yesterdays, and the love that existed between the two of you was nullified in favor of acquaintanceship…or so you thought.
“Y/N, I’m home!” Toji calls into the house as he comes back from your neighborhood’s pharmacy. You look up from the book you were reading, smiling ever so slightly at your husband who seemed to have a wonderful sparkle in his eyes. “Hey, kid,” he kisses the top of your head when he reaches your wheelchair.
“You seem happy,” you remarked positively.
“Well, for one, they replenished their stocks today and I managed to get you your steroids and painkillers so you’ll be able to sleep easy tonight,” Toji smiles, taking out the items from the pharmacy’s paper bag. “And I got you this neat memory foam cushion for your wheelchair.” He fluffs it up as a form of demonstration before placing it behind your back.
When he sees you smile, a sense of relief washes over Toji. You reach towards him, and he pulls you into an embrace. “Thank you,” you said, pure sincerity dripping from your voice. “For everything you do.”
“Anything for you.” He suddenly moves back and reaches into the tote bag you lended him. “Oh, and wait, before I forget, I have another surprise.”
You laughed airily. “Another surprise? Now, you’re just spoiling me!”
He pulls out a piece of paper from the tote bag and he places it in your hands as your eyes quickly scan over the document. Your breath hitches in your throat when you realize what it is. Did Toji really—? You couldn’t believe it. “A marriage pre-registration,” you said in awe. You read it again just in case to make sure that this wasn’t a figment of your sick body’s imagination, that this was real, that Toji genuinely wants to make everything right again. Your fingers skim over your typewritten names. “It has our names…we’re really—“ You can’t even finish your sentence without bursting into happy tears. “Are we—?”
Toji nods, gazing into your eyes, and as emerald and (E/C) clash for what seems to be an eternity lost in one another, he plants a kiss to your temple, coming up to embrace you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“We are. The Tokyo Family Court, as far as I know, will approve our remarriage once we file this. So, you have to get stronger, okay?” He’s begging you at this point, despite your rapidly deteriorating condition. “Strong enough to see me fix everything. Strong enough to be there on our second wedding, strong enough to say our vows again.”
Your hand comes up to stroke his cheek from behind, and he nuzzles into your neck at your tender touch.
“I will. I promise.”
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But you never really get to say your vows. Not comprehensibly anyway.
“Babe, can you say that again?”
Toji crouches by your bedside as you look at him apologetically. You were causing him trouble and pain again which is the last thing that you want to give him especially when’s fought and worked so hard to care for you, to keep prolonging this borrowed time you’re on. “To-ji. Toji.” You gaze at him apprehensibly, not really believing you can do it without crumbling.
“Come on, babe, you can do it. Say my name, please…Toji. I’m Toji.”
“Toooji-“ you slurred sadly. At this point, your Multiple Sclerosis has reached its end stage and has taken…everything from you: your ability to walk, your ability to control your muscle spasms and other bodily functions…and now, coupled with an unexpected stroke, your ability to speak. And you and Toji know that time is almost up, with you having come to accept it, while your husband still held onto hope. Your fingers gently graze over his face as best as your spasms and tremors allow you, starting from his forehead to his eyes, his nose, his cheek and finally, his lips, as if you’re memorizing it one last time. “Lo-ove you-“
Toji sniffles, and your fingers instinctively catch his warm tears. “I love you,” he whispers brokenly. “I do. I love you.”
You feel yourself tearing up as you’re forced to watch your beloved cry. And the worst part? You can’t do a thing about it. “D-oon’t c-cry—‘m okaay. Promi-miise…e’everyything ‘ill be okaaay.”
“Y-yeah,” he chuckles, trying to crack a joke even as hope dwindles. “You’ve been nothing but a fucking champ this entire time, you know? I’m so proud of you. So…so…proud that you’re still here.” He strokes your hair as you tread between the realms of the conscious and the unconscious. “Do you wanna go out today? The weather’s shit though. You’ll probably catch your death out there.” At the mention of the word ‘death’, Toji stops, falling into an uncomfortable silence.
You smile weakly at him. “Tiiredd—“
“You’re no fun,” Toji gently flicks your nose and you scrunch it up in displeasure. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding back an entire waterfall of tears. He knows it’s today. It has to be. You woke up today without your usual ‘happy morning’ greeting, and you refused to drink anything, much less eat anything. “You tired? Any pain?”
You shake your head. You’re as comfortable as you can be for the first time in months. Hospice nurses say humans are built to live the same way they are built to die, no person in this world has ever had the uncanny privilege of being able to look up ‘How to die?’ on a quick Google search and actually find a Wikihow on the morbid subject matter, nor is there anyone else who can teach another how it’s done. It’s just something humans know how to do without a manual, deeply ingrained in the very fabric of human existence is the fear of death, the fear of what comes after, the fear of a nothingness that could follow after living such a vibrant life. Your life was short, barely spanning thirty years, but you lived well: you fell in love, you got hurt, but you fell together again. Now it all has to come to an end, Toji will just have to take care of the rest.
And you weren’t scared.
Or at least you can’t look scared, if you were to be more accurate, you have to look strong and ready to accept the cards you’ve been dealt with for Toji’s sake. When he feels your hand start to slacken, Toji intakes a sharp, shaky breath of sheer panic. “Not yet, Y/N. Please. Not yet.”
He climbs into bed with you, bringing you closer to this desperate man you call yours. There was no getting better anymore, there was no miracle he could hang onto, no deity he could beg for death to spare you, no pill bottle he could pray to. He knew that from the start. But what he witnessed these past months, you’ve been the braver one between the two of you, you knew how to make the most of the rhythm this cruel world gave you and you graciously took him along to dance to the last song of the evening with you.
“There’s still hope. Just keep your eyes open. Just keep them open.” He presses his lips to your forehead, his delusion getting the better of him. “We’ll just keep trying…you can’t leave. You have to stay. You have to.”
“Thaank yoou—“ you softly told your Toji, your voice shrinking in decibels as you become a little drowsy, sinking into the warmth of the requiem of a life well spent.
Toji listens to you, his lips pursed, intent on making this final act of love — a love that is strong enough to say goodbye — a memorable one. And should the afterlife exist, he wishes to send you off with a smile, with the reassurance that he’ll be alright even if that was far from happening.
“Toji.”
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“I want you to be real. And I don’t care if we’ll live on borrowed time. Another extra second with you…is enough to last me my entire lifetime.”
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