#she didn’t recognize me in August | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

togenabi · 8 months

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things I won't tell you

vinsmoke sanji (opla) x princess!reader

♡—the new royal chef doesn't seem to recognize you without your crown. who's going to tell him? . . . certainly not you.

word count♡— 7.3k (cries)

genre♡— fluff, royal chef x princess au

content notes♡— opla sanji, afab!reader is a princess, reader wears dresses, reader has siblings (oc's), sanji made me google fancy food, mentions of zeff, sanji gets jealous if you squint, no use of y/n, proofread (but only a little)

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is detached from any canon, its basically just a big chunk of sanji fluff. please enjoy!

You've never really dreamed for yourself. You had always just let life fall into place around you.

The kingdom is prospering, entering a new age of commerce. Artists, craftsmen, and inventors sail seas just to be part of it.

Your sister Chrysanth is a wise queen, as you always knew she would be. She’s fair and just, always knowing what’s best for her people.

On the other hand, your brother August is Captain of the Royal Guard. He’s an excellent swordsman, who has yet to be beaten ever since he took command.

As for you, the youngest of the three, you have no idea what you’re doing.

The most likely outcome would be for you to be married off to settle some political arrangement. Unpleasant as it sounds, you would have agreed to it for the sake of the kingdom.

But the moment you said so, Chrysanth gave you a look unbecoming of a queen and immediately shut it down.

“Look,” She gestured to the view outside. “Does that seem like a kingdom who needs help to you? I work my butt off precisely so that we won’t have to depend on anyone else.”

“Besides,” She adds, “if anyone wants your hand, they should fight to the death for it.”

And so, for now, you work for your sister. Helping manage general affairs and the kingdom’s business agreements—even though she could easily hire someone else.

“I love that you insist on working,” Your brother told you once. “You could have been a socialite, but you’re here with us, serving the people.”

Of course you are. Because even though you didn’t necessarily plan it, you are proud and committed to your work. You’re happy with your own, mundane accomplishments.

Or at least that’s what you try to remember when you glance at the tall pile of documents on your desk. You’ll relish the satisfaction that will come when it’s gone.

The candle beside you burns low, flame becoming dimmer and dimmer as the hour grows late. You should probably replace that. Pulling open your drawer, your eyes scan its contents for a candle.

You’re fresh out of the tall ones that fit in the candleholder, but you have one sculpted like a cinnamon bun—a gift from August a few birthdays ago. It’s not exactly the best for illuminating your work, but something makes you strike a match and light it still.

It smells like freshly baked cinnamon rolls, you can’t help but inhale the decadent scent deeply.

The aroma triggers an embarrassing grumble from your stomach. You feel your ears burn despite the fact that no one else is around to have heard it. Perhaps a midnight snack is in order.

Unexpectedly, light seeps through the gap beneath the large wooden double doors to the kitchen. In all your years, you’ve never encountered anyone in the kitchen at two in the morning.

Normally, you wouldn’t want to disturb them. Knowing the chefs, they would likely fuss over you and put whatever they were doing on hold.

But you fear that your stomach will disagree with that, so you decide to knock and enter the kitchen anyway.

There’s only one chef inside—a tall, blond man with his back to you. You don’t think you recognize him. He must be one of the new hires.

When he hears your footsteps on the stone tiles, he turns around.

His expression, at first, is curious. But after a beat, his mouth curves into a charming grin that catches you completely off guard.

“Hello there, miss.” He nods in greeting, eyes alight with a look that no one usually dares when it comes to you.

“I’d be happy to fix up something for you if there’s anything you’re… craving.”

When you expected the chef to fuss over you, this isn’t what you meant.

Your first instinct is to look at his surroundings for alcohol. Perhaps he’s intoxicated and not in his right mind?

But the (sober) chef seems to have mistaken your silence for bashfulness, because he presses you further, “Trust me. I may be new around here, but I know my stuff.”

Unsure how to respond to his blatant (or insolent, your sister would say) behavior, you try to gently decline his offer.

“It’s alright,” You say, still uncertain about him. “I was only going to make a sandwich and be on my way.”

“Nonsense!” He insists. “If you’re hungry at this hour, it means you’ve been busy working too hard.”

He approaches the pantry, retrieving one too many things for a mere sandwich. Your concern grows when he grabs garlic, several leafy vegetables, and a lemon.

“You, my dear,” He points at you with, is that a cucumber? “—deserve a proper treat.”

You sigh, it looks like he doesn’t intend to back down. Maybe you should just let him do what he wants and see if he can back up all the talk. Pulling one of the chairs from beneath the kitchen island, you take a seat as you observe the flirtatious chef.

At least he seems to be enjoying himself. His hands work with the kind of precision that only comes from years of experience; and he smiles proudly when he sees you watching.

“I meant what I said, I’m a damn good cook.” He’s begun chopping the vegetables. “My name’s Sanji, by the way.”

The question now is whether or not you properly introduce yourself. It's difficult to deny that you enjoy his attention. The casual and relaxed manner he addresses you with is… a nice kind of different. When else are you going to experience that if you let this go?

Alright. For tonight, you're not a princess. You're someone who stumbled upon a chef—a handsome one, it dawns on you. This is a chance encounter in the palace kitchens. And, you glance over at the dressing and ingredients he prepared, why should you turn down good food?

You decide to only give him your name. It feels strange introducing yourself without your title, but you don't tell him that.

“It makes sense that your name is as captivating as you are.” Sanji's voice is smooth, easygoing as he moves around the kitchen.

Nothing about his demeanor changes. Either he really doesn't know anything about this country's royalty, or he's skillfully controlled his reaction and is hiding that he knows.

There's also a third possibility: that you look so haggard and tired that you simply do not appear royal anymore.

Subconsciously, you look at your typical office clothes… Maybe you should go on that fitting the royal stylist has been pestering you about.

On the topic of style, however, your companion has unusual attire for a chef. He’s wearing a buttoned shirt with a necktie. His black slacks match the suit jacket draped over one of the chairs.

Your attention is diverted when Sanji begins rolling up his sleeves. He juices the lemon he had sliced in half, arms flexing as he twists the fruit.

Clearing your throat, you ask him a question to distract yourself. “What are you making?”

He smiles as if he’s glad you asked. “A dish that suits a beauty like you, of course.”

Several minutes later, he presents you with a sandwich. The slices of bread are whole wheat; the layers of ingredients between them are all in varying shades of green.

“A green goddess sandwich, made with care for the goddess in front of me.” Sanji pushes the plate towards you.

It's easy to stay composed despite the flattery because your hunger makes you focus on the food. “It really does look excellent.” You compliment earnestly.

He gestures to the plate before placing his hands in his pockets. “Tastes excellent too, try it.” Shaking your head at how confident he’s being, you pick up the sandwich.

It might just be the best sandwich you’ve ever had in your life. The flavors are fresh, and you catch the hints of lemon blending with the dressing. The bread is soft, contrasting with the crunch of the cucumbers and sprouts.

You're completely surprised, and it must be obvious based on how Sanji reacts. He lets out an adorable, pleased laugh that makes you want to hear it again.

“I knew you’d like it, ma chèrie.” Sanji reaches a hand towards your face. Your heart just about stops when he brushes his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth. His eyes look so intense, like you'll drown in them if you stare too much.

It feels as if your face could burst into flames at any second, so you turn away to hide your flush.

As Sanji grabs you a glass of water, you ask him if he’s eaten. “I did, but it’s nice that you’re worried about me.” He answers. You almost choke on your drink.

Once you've finished your meal, you stand then grab your empty plate and glass. But Sanji mirrors you, blocking the way to the sink. Why must a chef have such broad shoulders?

He shakes his head, trying to get the dishes from you. “Can’t let you do that, love.”

“Why not?” You frown, pulling your arms back so he doesn’t reach them.

“It’s late. You shouldn’t be working any more—”

“But you’re allowed to?” You look up at him defiantly.

Sanji stares at you. You stare back. There's a few seconds of silence before you sprint the other way, running around the kitchen island to get to a different sink.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Sanji yells after you.

You’re almost there, but Sanji catches up to you easily. Before you know it, he’s blocking the way again and you curse, remembering his long legs.

“Sanji, let me do the dishes.” You plead, but he’s as stubborn as it gets.

“The knives I used need to be washed anyway, and I’m not about to let your pretty hands do that.” Sanji winks, and you give up. He pries the dishes from your hands.

Seeing your shoulders slump disappointedly, he offers you a compromise. “If you really want, you could throw the rubbish in the bin and wipe down the counters.” Okay, you can do that.

“Are you sure this is the only way I can repay you?” You ask, grabbing a washcloth to begin cleaning up.

“That’s plenty of help, my dear.” Sanji answers.

But after a moment, he seems to have gotten an idea. Your brows raise in curiosity as you question him, “What?”

“...I was just wondering,” He begins, looking at you with that flirtatious glint in his eye. “Since we had such a wonderful time tonight, would you be willing to join me again?”

“That depends,” You press your lips together to suppress the smile blooming on your lips. “Will you cook for me again?”

Sanji laughs, throwing his head back. “Darling, that’s a given.”

He gazes at you while he dries his hands. There’s a grin on his face as he asks, like he already knows your answer. He probably does. He’s probably right.

“Same time tomorrow?”

Even though you got back to your chambers at an ungodly hour in the morning, you woke up feeling the most refreshed you’ve ever been. There’s a spring in your step as you get ready for the day, and you pick clothes that are slightly more dressy than your usual attire. Sanji shouldn’t be able to notice that you dressed up for him, right?

But your sister does.

Seated at the head of the table, Chrysanth stops eating to analyze your clothes the instant you show up to the dining hall for breakfast.

You could practically hear the gears in her head turning. Avoiding her gaze, you bow to greet her before taking your seat, “Good morning.”

The queen only smiles at you knowingly, eyes still flickering over you with enraptured excitement. Very much unlike a queen, however, she kicks your shin underneath the table.

“Ow!” You yelp.

“So…” She lets the syllable drag on. “Who’s the guy?”

You focus on piling food onto your plate, choosing to ignore her. “What guy?”

“Your guy.” She says, giddy. “Is he your guy yet?”

“Hm?” Is your only response. Breakfast looks lovely. Should you ask for coffee or tea today?

Chrysanth kicks you again.

“Hey!” You rub the skin to dull the pain. “Stop that!”

“Stop avoiding the question!” She persists, waving a hand to gesture at your clothes. “You only wear that skirt when you want to impress someone.”

Mentally cursing her for knowing you too well, you continue to act nonchalant.

“Really, it’s nothing.” You try to clarify. “I just thought that it would be a nice change.”

She doesn't believe it. Not one bit of it. Thankfully though, she drops the topic. Your shoulders relax as the discussion switches to work-related ones. She’s telling you about her plans to approve a restaurant in the museum when your brother joins you for breakfast.

Once he’s seated, August takes one look at you before tilting his head. “Who’s the guy?”

Chrysanth looks far too smug and triumphant than you’d like. You bury your face in your hands. Would Sanji also tease you if he knew?

The rest of the day is uneventful, the only change to your typical work day being that you avoid your siblings like the plague. You have lunch brought to your office and skip on dinner.

Sanji had already started cooking by the time you got to the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind,” He says. Of course you don’t, whatever it is smells amazing. “I thought I’d start early so you wouldn’t have to wait too long.”

“Thank you for going through the trouble.” You say, glancing at the ingredients he had laid out: there are crushed tomatoes on the counter. Pasta simmers in a pot on the stove. You recognize the tubed shapes with ridges surrounding them.

“Rigatoni?” You ask, turning to the chef.

Sanji nods, “With a simple, creamy tomato sauce. Nothing too extravagant, but still specially made for you.”

He puts the pasta into two bowls, grating parmesan cheese on top. Your mouth waters.

“Here you are, darling.” It pleases you more than you thought it would when Sanji sits across from you to eat as well.

There’s something homey and yet luscious about the taste. He really outdid himself. “It’s delicious, Sanji.”

“I live to please.” Sanji says before standing to retrieve two wine glasses and a bottle of red. “Zweigelt.” He says as he pours for you both. “Juicy and fresh, with just the right amount of acidity.”

You almost swoon at the rasp in his voice. You never realized someone could be so attractive when talking about wine.

As he clinks his glass with yours, you think to yourself that this might be your favorite dish from him. However, true to his word, he surpasses your expectations every time.

After a few weeks, on your sixth (or is it seventh?) time meeting Sanji past midnight, you've reached the point where you're able to open up to each other beyond the pleasantries that come with the food.

He tells you about his dream of traveling the seas in search for the best ingredients the world has to offer. You admit how you sometimes feel like life is just taking you along with the current—that you’ve never had a burning, passionate dream to aspire to.

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Sanji hums contemplatively. “There aren’t any deadlines when it comes to finding dreams.”

“I do worry that you’re working yourself to the bone, though.” He adds, and for once, his smile looks different somehow. It’s a fond, gentle smile that’s sweeter than the macarons he made for you.

“What do you mean?” You take a sip of water.

“While I'm flattered you enjoy my food so well, do you eat properly? Shouldn't the palace be treating you better?” This time, you actually choke on your drink.

Could it get more embarrassing than this? Your ears burn as you cough, trying to clear your throat and settle your heart.

“Breathe, love." Sanji, ever the gentleman, is next to you in a flash of a second. He pats your back gently and supportively. “I'm sorry if I startled you.”

“It's alright—and, I do eat,” Your voice comes out raspy. “It's just that I don't usually have an appetite for dinner.”

“But that leaves you hungry for a midnight snack?” Sanji asks, a knowing expression on his face as he refills your glass.

“Exactly.” You smile. Thankfully, your throat has calmed down. Picking up a vanilla-flavored macaron, you savor the taste that melts sweetly on your tongue. Returning to his chair across from you, Sanji watches you eat happily.

“I take pride in my desserts, but that chocolatier in Belltower street… The sweets are just—out of this world, I tell you.” He looks so excited as he talks, eyes aglow and gestures animated. “The chocolates are handmade and everything. I'm sure you've heard of it?”

“Um…” Hesitating, you certainly remember issuing a business permit for a chocolatier; but you can’t say you’ve gone there yourself.

Sanji’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Surely you’re pulling my leg. You haven’t been?”

“...”

He observes you quietly, like he's considering what to do next. There have been instances when Sanji stays quiet, doesn't eat, and only watches you chew. The times where he insists that he's content with seeing you eating well. Those were awkward at first, but you learned that was just part of spending time with him. Your reaction was a reward on its own.

But this isn't like that. Something feels oddly different in the way he seems to be gathering his composure. The silence almost worries you, but thankfully he breaks it first.

“You’ve saved me the trouble of thinking of a place to take you to.” Laughing, Sanji practically glows in elation. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

You had a peculiar sense that you would’ve loved going anywhere, as long as you were with him.

Feeling bold, you suggest, “I’m free this Saturday if that’s good for you?”

He gives you that soft, enamoured look again. Something makes you hold your breath, your fingers tingle and the entire rest of the world slows down. You’re almost certain you’re giving him the same look.

“Even if I wasn’t, love, I would have gone to you anyway.”

The next day, a Thursday, your brother unexpectedly knocks on your office door.

“Hey,” You smile. “Is something wrong?”

It’s rare for August to look for you in the middle of the day. If either of you need to speak, it’s usually you who heads into the training grounds to talk to him. The other way around occurring is curious.

“I wanted to invite you to watch the knights train this Saturday.” He says coolly. “It would boost their morale if you spoke a few words.”

The commander goes on to speak, not catching that you’ve short circuited somewhat, trying to rack your brain for a valid excuse to decline him.

“And maybe, you could pick out a personal knight like I’ve been telling you.” August prompts. “You really should—”

When he pauses, squinting his eyes at you suspiciously, you suddenly recall why you stopped trying to hide anything from him.

“You already have plans.” He says, face carefully blank.

“Yes.” Thank goodness he understood. But wait, his eyes are widening. Why is he making that face? Why is he looking at you like he just figured out—

“You have a date.” Darn it all.

August is bewildered, not knowing what to do with the information he put together. He awkwardly brushes his fingers through his hair.

“...Is he a good guy, at least?” He settles with, asking carefully in that concerned way he does when he looks out for you.

Biting your lip, you nod. “He seems to be, so far.”

“Okay.” August responds. “Does Chrysanth know?”

“It’s nothing serious.” Yet. Yet? Do you want it to be? “You’re the first I’ve told.”

A worrying thought suddenly pops in your mind. Your turn to him, distressed. “Please don’t tell her yet, August.”

“Why?” His frown deepens, like he’s about to ask more questions. Unfortunately for him, you decide you’ve had enough talking about Sanji to your brother for today.

“Aren’t you busy?” You grab his arm, guiding him out of your office. “Don’t you have training to get to?”

“I do, but—why can't Chrysanth know?” You open the door for him and try to push him out, but August plants his feet; still trying to figure you out. He doesn’t budge an inch.

But then he makes that face again. That annoying ‘aha!’ face.

“You really need to go, good luck with training! Tell the knights I said hi—” You manage to shove him out with all your strength, but at the last second before you close the door, August turns around again.

“He’s a commoner, isn’t he?” You slam the door at his face.

It doesn't matter. Sanji's status will never matter to you. Not when he's holding your hand so sweetly while he guides you through the winding streets of the city. You recognize some shops by name, knowing who owns what and when they established their business. But Sanji knows these streets, and he's more than happy to show you.

“Ah, one moment, my dear.” Sanji pulls you towards a quaint little cart overflowing with flowers. He flicks a coin to the vendor, eyes scanning all the vibrant colors and bursting petals.

Somehow, without you needing to tell him, he picks one in your favorite color. You're starting to feel like that's just part of being with Sanji—that he knows what you want, and knows what you need before you do.

The flower is soon tucked into your hair, behind your ear. His fingers linger on the side of your face—and normally, you'd break eye contact and shy away. Maybe let out a halfhearted excuse that you should continue on your way. But you don't.

You smile back at him, not bothering to hide the genuine happiness you feel. And when Sanji pulls back, you're already holding out your hand before he reaches for it. There’s something in his eyes. Something that makes you feel like you're walking on air when he tugs you along again.

As planned, Sanji takes you to the chocolatier he told you about. The building is small, tucked between larger shops in the middle of a busy street, but there’s no doubting the quality of their confections.

The elderly chef behind the counter greets Sanji like a grandson she hasn’t seen in forever. She ushers him in, enthusiastically pointing to this and that, saying she moved some furniture around as he suggested.

“It looks perfect, grand-mère.” Sanji smiles, taking in the beautiful glass display. Chocolates of every flavor cover the shelves from end to end.

Grand-mère’s eyes light up when she sees you. She casts an approving look at Sanji, “I like this one. She might even be too good for you.”

“That’s because she is.” Sanji laughs, and you pretend to browse the menu while they talk.

“No need for that, ma chèrie.” The menu is plucked from your hands. Sanji sets it aside, pointing instead to where grand-mère is behind the counter. She's wrapping up a box of chocolates that she hands to you.

“No need to pay, dear.” She smiles, patting your hand. “If he ever gives you trouble, let me know.”

Sanji whisks you away through the streets again. You've never been this far into the city before. Looking back at the path you've taken and not recognizing any of it, you know you’d be absolutely lost without Sanji by your side.

“Almost there.” He tells you, pointing to a cobbled path that inclines upwards.

What meets you at the top of the path is a small clearing. A stunning tree with blossoms on its branches stands at the center. Flowers and petals flutter away and fall onto the iron bench beneath it.

“Sanji, this is lovely...” You trail off, letting go of his hand to catch a flower into your palms. The flower twirls delicately between your fingers before you turn back to Sanji, tucking the blossom into the pocket of his suit.

Sanji takes your hand before you can pull away, bending down to press a kiss to your knuckles.

“Not nearly as lovely as you.”

The two of you spent hours under that tree, sharing chocolates and stories—feeling like this is how things are supposed to be. Not necessarily the flowers, or the chocolates, or even the sun setting beautifully in so many warm colors.

Just Sanji. With you, next to you.

All at once, it sinks in that he could be the dream you've been waiting for. But you don't tell him that.

Being enlightened on your feelings for Sanji becomes a second thought, however, when you’re swamped with work the following week.

“Don’t these people ever get tired?” Chrysanth groans, leaning back on her chair. “Why is planning a festival so hard?”

You approach her desk and place another stack of documents onto it. The numerous piles are getting concerning.

She scowls at the papers, then scowls at you. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“Of course I do.” You tap a stack of documents to her left. “The guest list for the ball needs to be approved by tonight so we can send invitations out.” She groans again, but picks up the list anyway.

You’re unable to see Sanji as often as you’d like, but you both promised to meet once a week. Even if it’s only for a few short heartbeats together.

You dearly miss him. You think about him as you hand Chrysanth menu plans for the ball. If he saw it, he’d say that he could come up with something better.

She glances at the menu, studying it. Or at least, that’s what you thought she was doing—until her next words proved you wrong.

“So, how are you and that chef doing?”

Your heart isn’t in your chest anymore. It sank down, deep into the depths of the earth. It also must have taken all the air in the room along with it. How did she—

“August?” You blurt out.

Chrysanth shakes her head, “Zeff.” Oh no. Sanji’s boss knows? Does Sanji know that you’re—

“According to Zeff,” She proceeds, cutting off your thoughts. “One of his subordinates has been cooking a lot of personal meals over the last few weeks.”

“I can explain—” But your sister holds up a hand. Your mouth snaps shut.

She calls your name, and then you realize how serious her tone is. “Are you familiar with the kitchen’s rules when it comes to using ingredients and supplies for personal use?”

“...I’m afraid I'm not.” You didn’t know the kitchen had any such rules… but surely Sanji does. Your voice stutters, “I, did—is he in trouble?”

“He isn’t.” She answers, though her expression is still grave. “But I think that you should be aware of how much he’s doing for you.”

Chrysanth opens a drawer to retrieve a list of kitchen rules. Reading it over, everything is standard and straight to the point. You find the answer to your confusion towards the end, a small, nondescript bullet that reads:

All staff must reimburse the cost of all ingredients used for any reason outside of official duties.

“He must know who I am, then.” You say, feeling relieved that he didn’t break some sort of impossible rule. “He wouldn’t have done so much for me if he didn’t.”

Your sister purses her lips, letting the silence linger for a second before responding, “He doesn’t know, love.” She hands you another document. “He’s been paying back every cent out of pocket.”

Tracing over the timestamps and the different ingredients listed, you stare at an outline of your time with Sanji. It’s nice to reminisce, but you can’t help but wince whenever you spot something particularly pricey. What on earth are you to do with this man?

“Zeff recognized your name when he asked Sanji who he was cooking for.” Chrysanth explains. “He didn’t tell him, but he came to me and requested for Sanji to be repaid.”

“Since anything served to me counts as official duties of a royal chef.” You piece together.

“Exactly.” Chrysanth nods. “However, doing that would expose your title to him. Which is why I wanted to speak to you about this first… You should tell him.”

“I know.” Letting out a deep sigh, you agree. Sanji deserves to know more than anything. Nevertheless, the thought of him changing how he treats you—or worse, leaving—because of your status, frightens you to your core.

“I’ll talk to him tonight.” You say, but your sister’s expression slowly changes. What did she plan this time?

“Or maybe, you could put the kitchen dates on pause and tell him in a few weeks.” Surprisingly, she hands you an invitation to the ball.

“I can’t bring Sanji as my date.” No matter how much you wish you could.

“Are you sure about that?” Chrysanth is unable to contain her grin. “Open it!”

‘…you are cordially invited to the spring masquerade ball.’

You gasp, “You turned it into a masquerade?”

“Yes, I did. You won’t believe how much convincing it took for the ministers to agree.” She rolls her eyes, but then her smile returns. “Don’t waste my hard work and have fun with your man, littlest sister.”

You laugh, not expecting this outcome after all that. “I love you, even if you made me go through so much emotional turmoil for fun.” She cackles.

“Of course I had to make you sweat after what you put me through.” Chrysanth scoffs, “I can’t believe I had to hear about your love life from Zeff, of all people.”

“Ah,” She says, remembering something. “Speaking of, why’d you guess August first earlier?”

“...”

“...Did you tell him before me?” She gasps. “How could you! Give that invite back!”

“I didn’t think you’d approve.” You admit shyly. “He’s a commoner.”

“If he treats you well—which, he obviously does—I could care less about all that.” Chrysanth reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Only those stuck up ministers will react negatively, I’m sure. We can deal with them easily enough.”

When she lets you go, she abruptly adds, “He better be cute though.”

That sends you laughing again. “Oh, Chrysanth, he’s the cutest!”

He certainly is. Especially when he sees you and grins, opening his arms wide in expectation. You fall into his embrace when you’re near enough.

Sanji takes your hand and places it on his arm, leading you away from the kitchens.

“Some of the others are still in there planning for the ball.” He explains. “It seems preparations are keeping us both busy.”

Sanji takes you to the greenhouse, which you’ve never seen at night before. Various patches of vegetables and shrubs line the space. There are trees and flowers towards the back too. It feels like a secret hideout, being here with Sanji.

“I miss spending more time with you, love.” He whispers.

“Me too.” Your heart melts thinking about how much he gave for you. You wish you had the courage to tell him the truth now, while he’s looking at you like you put up the stars in the sky, but you can’t. You’re not ready yet.

Reaching your hands up, you caress his face gently, brushing your thumb across his cheek. He places his hands over yours, keeping them there.

Sanji closes his eyes to savor the moment, and you let him. You two stay like that, your hands becoming enveloped in so much of Sanji you feel like you could recognize him with your eyes closed, with a single touch.

There’s a certain familiarity to him at this point. You would probably have some difficulty adjusting back to life without him in it. He’s so familiar that you could probably draw him. He makes you want to try.

“...I was just wondering,” You say with a knowing glint in your eye. Does he remember those words when he said them to you that first night? “We’ve been working hard for this ball, wouldn’t it be a shame not to enjoy it together?”

You give him the invitation, and he throws his head back laughing. You send him a confused look, but it all becomes clear when he pulls out an identical invitation from his jacket.

“Ah, how brilliant you are, mamour.” Sanji embraces you again, and you bask in how perfect it feels to tuck your head into the curve of his neck.

“It will be easy to find you even with a mask.” You murmur into his skin. He shivers. “You’re so goddamn tall it’s not fair.”

“I’m not too worried about you finding you, either.” Sanji begins to sway slowly with you still in his arms. It makes your heart skip a beat. You can’t wait to dance with him.

“Are you confident you’ll find me first, then?” You ask, adjusting your hold around his middle to snuggle in better.

“I’m not sure about being first,” He ponders. “But I’ll be sure it’s you when I find you.”

The greenhouse became your new meeting place while the palace was buzzing to prepare for the ball. You could only meet for a few minutes, but you treasured the time you shared just the same.

Once, Sanji tried to feed you one of the expensive fruits growing there, but you declined, making up an excuse that you were allergic. He had looked at you strangely, but didn’t press you further.

You couldn’t find the time to see Sanji the week of the ball at all. Your time was spent welcoming foreign dignitaries, discussing business and trade. You and your sister had a marvelous time shutting down a marriage proposal from some duke from the north.

It amazes you how much you’ve changed since meeting Sanji. Had the duke asked before you met him, you probably would have considered it seriously. Whereas now, your standard is far too high. The man you choose must be able to get to your heart by cooking you the best food in the kingdom and all the seas.

You’re glowing by the time you finish getting ready for the masquerade. The dress you chose is in your favorite color, with the skirt twirling dreamily when you turn.

Chrysanth permitted you to enter the ballroom a few minutes late to avoid a royal entrance. You use the time to compose what you want to say to Sanji when you tell him the truth.

‘I’m a princess, and I think I might love you’, is that a lot to say? You sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress.

The clock on the wall chimes. It’s been fifteen minutes since the ball officially started. You put on your mask, tying the ribbon behind your head to secure it.

After one last glance at yourself in the mirror, you head to the ballroom—looking much more collected than you actually feel.

Maybe you shouldn’t have bragged to Sanji that you would find him easily, because you don’t.

You were mistaken when you thought all you’d had to do was look for a tall, blond man with a blue mask. (Sanji’s mask is surely going to be blue. He wouldn’t consider any other color. You bet your foot on it.) It’s unnerving how many people fit that description tonight.

You even find your brother before you find Sanji. August is dressed in surprisingly simple, all black attire. He looks more like a gentleman than a commander, lacking all those sparkly medals he’s usually required to wear at events.

“Where’s your date?” August asks, ducking his head slightly so that you can hear him over the crowd. “Chrysanth bragged about setting you two up.”

“I haven’t found him yet.” You answer dispiritedly. “I thought it would be easy.”

August looks around, and you know that if he knew what Sanji looked like, he would be able to track him down in a flash. You’re about to ask what you should do when August suddenly bows, extending a hand to you.

“May I have this dance, fair lady?” He asks in a fake pretentious accent that instantly makes you laugh.

It would be nice to say yes, but you desperately want Sanji to be your first dance. August would understand.

But you aren’t able to decline, someone else beats you to it.

“I’m afraid her first dance is spoken for.” Sanji’s voice reaches your ears and suddenly the room is brighter than it was.

You almost gasp, elated that he found you. Were it not for that frown on his face, you would have voiced out your joy.

August and Sanji stare each other down. Neither of them say anything, but it’s clear that their first impressions of each other aren’t the most pleasant. Not liking the hostility you’re sensing is building, you tug at Sanji’s hand.

Your brother’s eyes soften at that, and he bows again, this time to say goodbye. “I’ll see you later then.”

You watch August go, and Sanji grumbles something you don’t catch under his breath. You'll have to properly introduce them at some point, but worrying about their relationship can wait. You really must cheer up this grump who thought he was going to miss your first dance.

“Dance with me, stranger?” Intertwining your fingers together, you smile and take in how handsome he looks. His suit is still black, but there are several accents in dark blue—the same color as his mask.

The deep navy color makes his eyes look almost crystalline, and you recognize why you love him so immensely when he smiles.

“I would be honored.”

Sanji is more graceful than you expected. His movements are controlled and precise, never moving too fast and always making sure you’re falling into step beside him.

He’s proven, once again, that he can surpass your every expectation. Sanji spins you around, catching you by your waist and grinning before sweeping you off your feet again.

By the end of it, you’re left breathless due to far too many reasons, and they all involve him.

You had tried bringing Sanji to a romantic spot; maybe a balcony, or somewhere by a fountain in the gardens—but it seems that a lot of other people had the same idea.

Everywhere was crowded, but you suppose where you ended up is romantic in its own way. With the sky being cloudless tonight, you could see every star twinkling away through the greenhouse’s glass roof.

Let the stars bear witness to you pouring out your heart to this man.

“Sanji…” You start, mentally preparing yourself.

“Yes, ma chèrie?” Sanji tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, you have his complete attention.

“There are things I must tell you.” You swallow the lump in your throat, not brave enough to look him in the eye yet; though you grip his hands tightly in yours.

Sanji waits. He doesn’t complain that you might be holding onto him too tightly, or nag at you for taking too long to put your words together.

When you finally look up to meet his eyes, you find the strength to breathe it out, “...I’m a princess.”

There’s this moment again, when you hold your breath and wait for his reaction; like when you first told him your name. Suddenly, it feels like you’re in the kitchen eating sandwiches with him again.

And, just as it did back then, his reaction surprises you.

His expression barely changes, the only difference being the barely-there furrow of his brows in concern.

“I know, love.” He says.

“What?!” You drop his hands in shock. “Since when?”

Sanji blinks. “Since the moment we met.”

“But, I—why did you pay everything back? Why didn’t you ever mention it?”

His eyes widen, “Ah, is that why you wouldn’t eat anything from me these past few weeks? I knew you couldn’t be allergic to pineberries.”

“Sanji, answer the question.” You pout, and he rubs your arms in an attempt to soothe you.

It’s Sanji’s turn to compose himself, you notice. He looks like he wants for your time together to stay lighthearted, when the thoughts in his mind are far from it.

“You didn’t want to talk about your duties, so I never asked.” Sanji shrugs, but you can see him getting nervous.

“As for reimbursing the ingredients, I suppose I was worried that… you wouldn’t think of our time together dearly if I was just another chef on your staff.”

Your heart shudders when he lets out a shaky breath. Oh Sanji.

“But that’s the truth isn’t it? I am, and yet I—” He pauses, eyes searching yours desperately. “If I didn’t pay for it, I would be admitting that a chef was all I’d ever be to you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “I don’t regret it. I would make the same choice if I had to.” Through the mask, you can see his resolve, but his hands shake as he holds you.

“I didn’t expect to feel this strongly about you.” Sanji continues, “You’re just so lovely, making me feel like I could take on the world for you.”

With your hands quivering the slightest bit, you pull at the ribbon behind your head. Your mask clatters to the floor. Raising your hands towards him, you push his mask up until it’s off, revealing the face of the man who has completely enamoured you; body and soul and all.

You think back to how the colors lit him up beautifully, that one sunset you shared under that blossoming tree. And now, he’s still just as beautiful, in this greenhouse under the moon and the stars.

You love him all the same as you did then and every moment before. With the weight from keeping secrets gone from your chest, you finally let yourself admit it out loud.

“I love you, Sanji.” You confess. “I’ll go with you, if you’ll take on the world.” You try to say it calmly, but tears build up in your eyes. “You mean so much to me. You’re my dream.”

Sanji inches you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head. “I love you too. More than you could possibly imagine.”

You quip back at him while wrapping your arms around his neck, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

Sanji leans in the same moment you do, lips meeting in a passionate kiss that sends sparks running through every inch of your being. He pulls you impossibly tighter against him, strong hands caressing your back and holding firm at your waist. Your fingers rake through his hair, touching him to make sure he’s real. He’s here. He loves you. He knew. He always knew.

That night, you realized that your favorite taste from Sanji is his lips on yours. But, once again, he won’t hear you tell him that.

…

Sanji first saw you when a ceremony was held to welcome the new palace staff.

Everyone’s attention had been on your sister, the queen. Understandably so, but his eyes always strayed back to you. You looked gorgeous, wearing a stunning dress perfect for a princess as yourself. A cape draped tastefully down your back. And your crown sparkled brightly under the sun; but try as it might, it couldn’t be as dazzling as you.

Sanji was drawn to you instantly, and he thought he would go on with his life never understanding why.

That is, until you walked into the kitchen at two in the morning to make a sandwich.

It would have been impossible for him to not recognize you. Regular office clothes or not, something was different in the way you carried yourself. It was difficult to miss.

Other people would have thought you appeared mundane. And yet, Sanji found you the most beautiful then.

Because you let yourself smile more when you don't wear your crown.

But he won’t tell you that.

tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @ay0nha @watercolorskyy @holymusicalmothman @appalost

author's note (yes, again)♡— sooo, what do we think about sworn knight!zoro x princess!reader ? 👀

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lu-vin-it · 1 year

Text

Fate

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Summary: Daryl and Y/N are split at the beginning of the apocalypse. When a new group comes to the farm, maybe fate will be on your side.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Pronouns Used: None mentioned

Word Count: 1,903

Warnings: Mention of weed/smoking, i think mention of alcohol too. also minors having sex, not explicit but it is hinted that Daryl hooked up w/ a girl when he was 15

A/N: Ty @stqrluvr for proofreading ily bf!!!

Edit: Hey! After reading the comics I realized that Daryl isn’t in his 30s when the apocalypse started so i changed the years up a bit! for context: Carol is 25 and he’s supposed to be younger than her according to some sources so I went with that.

Aprox. 1999- Daryl and Y/N are 13 and 14 respectively .

“Y/N, this is Daryl. Why don’t y’all two go play up in your room while the grown ups talk?” Your Dad said, a blonde boy who looked about your age stood behind him with his dad and older brother.

“I have homework, Dadd-“ You stopped when you saw the anger fester on your Dad’s face. “Uh.. we’ll go on a walk.”

“Alright.. why don’t you go to the gas station..” he reaches into his pocket and takes out his wallet, handing you a ten dollar bill. “get somethin’ for yourself and your new friend.” You took the money and nodded before closing your notebook and walking past the men. Daryl followed you.

“Son of bitch treats me like I’m six and not fourteen..” You turned to the boy. “Wanna get some candy?”

“You buyin’?” You laugh and nod.

“C’mon.” You nod at the direction of the highway. He smiled and followed you.

Aprox. 2001

“Daryl, wake the fuck up. I’m gonna leave in ten minutes with or without you, you fuckin’ ass.” You yell into your best friend’s room. Sighing, you put your hand against your forehead and walked to the living room.

“Y/N.. how old are you now?” You look up to see Merle Dixon creepily staring at you.

“Not old enough… I will never be old enough..” You gag.

“Well you’re the one who came into my house lookin like that.” He licks his lips.

“Yeah. I sure did. For Daryl. Go fuck yourself, Merle.” You flip him the bird.

“Shit, sorry Y/N. I overslept.” You turn around to see Daryl leaving his room shirtless, a girl, who you recognized from school, but not well enough to know the name of, walks out behind him. She stands awkwardly for a moment before waving at you and leaving.

“And who was that?” You asked, wiggling your eyebrows.

“Er.. Sandy. I think. I dunno.. I was drunk as shit yesterday.” You laugh to cover up the jealousness you felt.

“Please..” You say, still laughing. “Hurry up and get dressed before I leave you here to go to this lake by myself.” You shake your head and walk out of the house to your car.

Aprox. 2007

“I don’t get it dude.” You said, shaking your head. Daryl sighs.

“There ain’t nothin’ to get. He’s a cheatin’ asshole who would have done the same thing to anyone.” You glance up at him and wipe the tears off your cheek.

“Yea.. I guess. I just..” You sigh. “I thought he was the one.. you know?” You scoff at yourself. “Stupid.”

“It ain’t stupid. He’s stupid.” Daryl flicked the cigarette butt on the ground and smashed it with his heel. “Never liked his sorry ass.” He mumbled. While that was true, he mostly didn’t like him because he was with you.. and that was what Daryl wanted more than anything.

Aprox. 2009

“Ugh..” You groan. “I hate school, why did I become a teacher?” You hypothetically ask Daryl. He was laughing at you from across the living room. You were grading papers while Daryl was watching a wrestling match on TV.

“‘Cause you wanted to ‘Make an impact in kids' lives’.” You roll your eyes.

“Fuck the kids.” You mumble, glaring at the stack of essays in front of you. “Whose winnin’?”

“I reckon Randy Orton.. seems most likely.” You nod.

“Yeah..”

August 15th, 2010. 11 Days pre-apocalypse.

“Have fun on the campin’ trip.” You said, switching your phone to your other ear.

“Yeah.. Merle’s comin’ along so.. I probably won’t.” You frown at your pessimistic best friend.

“Why is that douche comin’? Thought you said he was out on another bender?” You ask, reminding him of the conversation you had the day before.

“He was. Came home last night full o’ beer. He was high as shit too. Guess he just wants to prove he’s more capable than me.” Daryl sighs. “How’s Atlanta? Fuck any politicians yet?” You loudly laugh.

“I hate you, no I have not. But if I do, I’ll call you right after.” You pulled your phone off your ear when you felt it buzz, your Dad was calling you. “My Dad’s callin’. I gotta go, bye Dar.”

“Stay safe.” With that you end the call and accept your Dad’s.

August 27th, day after the apocalypse began.

“C’mon, you can come to my house.. it’s safe there.” You look at your friend, Maggie, and nod. “We can make signs to leave on the road, that way if your Dad or someone comes looking for you, they can find you.” You smile at her.

“It’s okay. Let’s go.. I guess.” You say monotonous.

The day Carl gets shot. (Present day.)

“Shit! Whose that?” You exclaim, taking the dish gloves you had on to grab your gun and go to the door. “Someone’s here!” You look at the figure for a moment and realize he was carrying a child. You looked behind him and saw Otis along with another man running behind him. “They’re with Otis!” Hershel walks up to you and looks out the door over your shoulder. Maggie runs up behind y’all with her binoculars.

“Shit the boy is injured!” She yells

“Was he bit?” Hershel asks. The rest of the Greene family poured out the front door.

“Shot. By your man.” The man, who was wearing a sheriff’s uniform, said.

“Otis?” Patricia wondered aloud.

“He said to find Hershel, is that you?” He sobbed. “Help me, help my boy.”

“Get him inside!” Hershel hurries into the house, the entire household is on high alert. “Patricia get my whole kit.” He folds his sleeves up. “Maggie, painkillers— Coagulates— grab everything!”

“Okay!”

“Y/N, clean towels, sheets, alcohol!” You run off to get everything Hershel asked. You grabbed everything faster than you knew you could run.

“Here!”

“Pillowcase!”

“I-Is he alive?”

“Pillowcase quick!” You take one off of one of the many pillows and hand it to him.

“Fold it! Quickly! Make it into a pad!” He grabs Rick’s hands and places them onto the makeshift pad. “Put pressure on it.” He puts his stethoscope on and listens around the boy’s chest. “I've got a heartbeat… it’s faint.” The man shakes.

“I’ve got it— step back!” Patricia says, pushing back the stranger.

“Maggie, IV.”

“We need some space.” Maggie yells, pushing him back more.

“Y/N, take him outside.” You nod and grab his hand, dragging him back out to the porch.

“W-Wait no— My boy h-he.. I can’t leave Carl, what're you doing?”

“What’s your name?”

“R-Rick.” You nod.

“I’m Y/N. They need their space in the room right now. Let’s stay out here and talk.” Rick looked at you like you were crazy but nodded. “Okay. Good. Uhh.. where were you before what happened?”

“Um. Uh. T-The highway. With my group.”

“Oh you’ve got a group! That’s awesome. How many people are in your group?”

“T-Ten. M-My best friend Shane he’ll be here with uh… with Otis any second now.” You nodded.

“That’s nice that you have a best friend in your group. Who else are you close to in the group?”

“M-My wife.. Lori.. s-she oughta be here..” He sobs, putting his face in his hands.

“Run!” Your neck snaps to the field. Otis and another man were running.

“Stay here, what’s your friend’s name?”

“Shane.” You nod and run to the men.

“Shane, you go to Rick. I’ll stay with Otis and help him get to the house.” You say to the black haired man. He nodded and ran quicker. You jogged past him to Otis. You wrapped your arm around him and hauled him back to the house.

Later that day, Otis and Shane left to get medical supplies for Carl while Maggie took the horse and went after Rick’s wife, Lori. A man called Glenn followed shortly after Lori’s arrival, he had T-Dog with him who was injured. Maggie seemed smitten with Glenn. He told you all that the rest of the group would be there the next day.

Shane came back that night with a heavy heart. Otis sacrificed himself for him. The night was full of grief.

The next morning, you woke up late. Everyone was outside helping the rest of the group settle in. You met Carol first, you told her you were sorry about her daughter and that you would help however you could. She thanked you and you helped her set up her things. You met Andrea next, she was a little more standoffish but you didn’t mind.

After meeting Andrea, you retreated into the house, deciding to start on lunch. It wasn’t much, but you were able to make salads with the crops on the farm. Carol came to help you after a while.

“So.. how are you related to the Greenes?”

“Oh I’m not. Maggie and I knew each other before the spread. We were hangin’ out when everythin’ went to shit and I couldn’t get back to my Dad.”

“I’m sorry about your Dad.” You shook your head.

“S’fine, didn’t like him that much. Mostly my best friend that I miss. I don’t know if he made it out.” You snort. “Probably did though.. he and his brother were out hunting when everythin’ happened.” She nods.

“Maybe you’ll find him soon.” You smile.

“I hope so. I hope he’s alive when I do.”

Carol went out to get everyone after you guys were done. It took about ten minutes before everyone

came into the dining room. There wasn’t enough room for everyone at the table, so some stayed standing.

“Where’s Daryl?” Andrea asked before shoving a forkful of lettuce in her mouth. Your mouth went dry.

“He’s comin’, he was getting stuff ready to go after Sofia.” Rick replied. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

“N/N? You okay?” Beth pondered when she saw the look on your face. You nodded and walked out of the dining room and then out of the house. You looked around before you saw him. It was Daryl fucking Dixon.

“Dixon!” You yelled, running down the steps and to him.

“Y/N?” He stopped in shock.

“Holy shit!” You jumped on him, wrapping your arms around him.

“W-What’re you doin’ here?” He pulled you off of him and held your face in his hands. You were crying at this point.

“Maggie, she was my teacher’s assistant and when the infection started she took me here.” You stared at him. “I’m so happy you’re here Daryl.. I was so worried that you did—“ You were cut off when Daryl leaned forward and kissed you. Of course, you kissed him back, you had been wanting this since you were 18. When you broke apart you smiled. “I love you.” You admitted. He grins and kisses you again, you knew that that meant he loved you back.

“I’m so glad I found you.” He leaned his forehead against yours and smiled.

“What just happened..” You turn around to see everyone on the porch, Glenn’s head was tilted and he stared in confusion.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗜 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ☻︎ꨄ

#the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon x you #rick grimes x reader #maggie greene x reader #maggie rhee x reader

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milaeth · 10 months

Text

୨୧┊𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓. ( carlos sainz )

✧.* pairings ─ carlos sainz x fem! estonian! singer! reader

✧.* genre ─ social media au | oneshot ⨾ angst

✧.* summary ─ in which you're a singer who isn't very famous and are mostly recognized for being with carlos sainz. things change when cheating rumors spread and you release an angry breakup song in estonian that becomes unexpectedly popular, leading to even more rumors about a potential breakup between the two of you.

✧.* face claim ─ maria rannaväli (she’s obv around the same age as carlos in this)

✧.* warnings ─ angst, cheating

✧.* mily’s thoughts ─ this was requested by @chrysanthemonza this is kinda rushed but i still hope you like it🤎

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1 and 67,316 others

yourusername vacation dump✨

tagged: maxverstappen1

view all 217 comments . . .

maxverstappen1 We had a lot of fun (especially P😂). She wants me to tell you that she misses you already

yourusername aw i miss her too🫶

user721 where’s carlos

user936 carlos hasn’t been in her photo dumps since last month and i’m SCARED.

user264 neither has she been in his…

user648 i feel like something is wrong

user378 she was on vacation yet she didn’t post a single photo of carlos? was he even there??

user765 i honestly don’t think so🙁

user275 so beautiful😍

user769 how come max was there but not her own boyfriend🤨🤨

user285 Well we do know that she got invited by Max to join his vacation with Kelly and P. Maybe he didn’t invite Carlos, only Y/n🤷🏽‍♂️

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1 and 95,538 others

yourusername “nutsin” out now!

view all 4,218 comments . . .

user937 HUH????

user936 i just know that is gonna be a tough one💀

user524 y/n i’m so sorry for you :(

user821 is she singing in english???😭😭

user147 no she’s singing in estonian

user732 you deserve so much better

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1 and 261,847 others

yourusername men ain’t shit

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14 August 2023

∿ taglist ─ @ay7ton @ch3rryknots @fdl305 @remuslupinsbtch @kissesandmartinis @sainzluvrr @ophcelia

don’t forget to like, comment & reblog (it’s very much appreciated <3).

#·˚ ༘ ☕️ — mily’s writings !#★ — carlos sainz !#formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one x reader #f1 driver imagines #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #formula one x y/n #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz social media au

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geckoomoria · 16 days

Note

friends to lovers trope w jj, but its the type of love where they both dont know that theyre both in love with eachother and they just casually flirt w eachother, but their friends r always like 👀 whenever they flirt or when jj like helps her or whatever, also everytime jj does something for reader, she always blushes but tries to hide it (going thru this shit rn 😃😅)

I love u for asking this omg.

i wanna add that they both deny it a lot and they just wont admit it to themselves.

this ones a bit long…

i hope this lives up to ur standards 😪

Just friends - Jj Maybank x reader

————————————-★————————————-

Saturday August 17th

9:00pm

YOU HAD JUST ARRIVED at a local beach party , looking around to find anyone you recognized.

yelling out an occasional “sorry!!” or “excuse me!” as you pushed past the main entrance of the beach house to get to the living room.

the house was so crowded you barley knew if you were headed in the right direction. As you backed up to let someone pass by you, you bumped into someone from behind.

“i am so sorr- oh Jj.” is what you said as you turned to apologize to the person that happened to be Jj maybank.

The scowl on the blondes face quickly reverted as he realized you were the one who bumped into him , a grin and opened eyes had appeared instead.

“ah so if its me you wont say sorry” he said while looking you up and down taking in your appearance. black denim shorts , long black thin socks that stopped mid thigh and a fitted dark red short sleeve top that had a sweetheart neckline.

to put it in short terms , you looked hot as fuck.

you find the corners of your lips turning as he spoke , it wasn’t uncommon for you and Jj to shamelessly flirt like this. Everyone could see you had a thing for each-other but both denied and claimed to be “just good friends”.

“well Maybank , i guess that says something about you” you responded still looking at the grinning boy.

“you wound me sweetheart” he said while dramatically placing a hand over his heart and acted as if he was in pain. You could feel the blush creeping onto your face.

“i try as much as i can darling” the words rolled off your lips as you kept up with his flirty game

The two of you stand still amongst the crowd of partiers as you stare into each others eyes, the sudden silent tension engulfing you two.

Abruptly it was broken as a pair of thin arms threw themselves over your neck , it was Kiara. “Y/n! i was looking all over for you, pope thought you weren’t coming” she claimed as she rolled her eyes at another mutual friend of yours , Pope.

“i didn’t say she wasn’t coming , i said i dont think she was coming on TIME.” Pope corrected back quite sassily as he gave you a side hug himself.

Jjs eyes had been kept on you the entire time, he didn’t even want to look away for a second.

“yeah yeah but still you doubted her and it wouldn’t be a party without Y/n ,right jj? kiara stated as the two pogues looked at their blonde headed friend. He was silent , still staring at you. His attention was only brought back when your eyes met his again.

“y-yeah wouldn’t be a party without ya” He said finally looking away for a second and looking back. The other two didn’t miss his reaction. You all walked over to where the drinks were kept and needless to say everyone was DRUNK. You all decided to sit outside on the steps.

15 minutes later

“hey wheres John B?” you question about the missing pogue from the friend group , “said he had to work for ward tonight but we all know what that means” Kiara answers before taking a sip of her beer.

You raise an eyebrow letting them know that you in fact didn’t know what it meant. “means he’s getting it on with the Kook queen , Babe ” Jj replies.

Pope and Kiara groan in disgust as your eyes widen at his words. “Wait what?! he actually has a thing going on with Sarah Cameron? Sarah Cameron who you hate” you say pointing at Kiara, “and who’s brother hates you?!” you say pointing at Jj.

“Damn straight” Kiara spits out, “Yes Ma’am” Jj replies before taking a chug of his drink, its clear none of them really liked the idea of him being with a Kook, Sarah Cameron of all people.

“God i told him to-“ Kiara’s rambling was cut off in your head as Jjs legs brushed against yours , feeling his body heat. It should have felt like nothing , friends are okay with being touchy right?

But you couldn’t ignore it as neither one of you moved your legs, what was this weird feeling inside of you?

You glance at his face only for him to be looking at you first , a stare across both your faces. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Pope who’s sitting on the steps above you two.

“Uh Kie im gonna grab another drink , you coming?” He cuts off her rambling about John B and Sarah in hopes of leaving you and Jj together.

Shes too drunk to notice whats going on so she mindlessly agrees and gets up to grab another bottle, leaving you and Jj alone on the steps.

Silence is the only thing between you two right now , absolutely no space. Arm to arm , leg to leg and shoulder to shoulder.

minutes goes by before Jj starts to laugh a bit, “whats so funny?” you ask curiously.

“i was just thinkin”

“about?”

he takes a sigh before answering “remember that time we didn’t talk for three whole days cause of the spider?”. You don’t remember at first but eventually the memory sparks back. “Oh Sally.” you say bitterly.

“you gave it a name???”

“uhm SHE lived with me for a week i think SHE deserved a name!” you sternly say emphasizing the she in your sentence.

you could feel the atmosphere’s tensions rising as you started to argue in a petty manner.

“you got so mad at me when i accidentally stepped on her”

“you killed my roommate Maybank , what was i supposed to do!”

“IT WAS A SPIDER!” , “SHE WAS A SPIDER , SHE”

you two had pointless arguments for no reason all the time to go along with all the flirting.

you huff as tick marks appear on your forehead and the same happened with Jj. The silence once again appeared after your loud voices went quiet.

“didn’t even pay for her funeral asshole” you mutter under your breath as you take another sip of your drink. You look at Jj and the two of you shared a silent look that lasted for a second.

You both burst out laughing, unable to catch your breaths, eventually after a few moments it dies down , “you’re something else princess” He says , chuckles still underlying his voice.

Him calling you suggestive nicknames was normal but lately its been feeling more than just a silly nickname.

“yeah well only you would know” you reply resting your chin under your palm and turning your head to face him. “thats right , papa j knows ya best” Jj says with some sense of pride puffing his chest.

“ugh y’know everytime you call yourself that , a little piece of me dies on the inside” you groan and roll your eyes at the stupid nickname Jj set for himself.

He starts laughing again at your words , you gave him a sense of comfort he’s never been familiar with.

He found himself constantly yearning for your presence and in moments of joy , he knew the only thing to make it better was if you were there.

Jjs tried convincing himself that it was normal to think of friends constantly and that its just his impulsive thoughts that thought of you in that way.

but the more he denied it to both others and himself , the more he craved you.

At the same time you felt similar things , thinking you were weird for even viewing your close friend like that. That he was just like that to everyone and that it was your head just spinning the truth.

But every-time you denied and brushed off the dating rumours , deep down you felt a twinge at the heart when you remembered they weren’t true.

Unconsciously shifting closer, your faces are inches from each-other. His eyes glued to your lips , the two of you reek of alcohol and the tensions never been higher.

Your heart beats rapidly as he moves in to attempt to kiss you but thats all it remained.

An attempt.

The moment was unexpectedly stopped as Pope burst through the door from above, stopping the two of you from what was about to happen.

“Guys Kie is like out of her mind drunk and she tried beating up her own reflection in the mirror so i think its time to go home” he says with a drunk Kiara slung over his shoulder not even realizing what he interrupted.

The blush on your face is replaced with a similar tone of red out of embarrassment, you get up not even looking at Jj to help Pope with Kiara.

“God that did not just happen” you think repeatedly

The car ride was just awkward silence as Pope who was the most sober at the moment drove to John Bs place since no one could scold your intoxicated selves there.

You avoid Jj like the plague when breaking in entering John Bs house , placing Kiara on the spare bed , Pope on the couch , you sleeping beside Kiara and Jj on a old recliner chair.

After voicing a Goodnight to Pope , you can’t find the courage to say anything to Jj as he sits there deep in thought. You wanted to say something, anything to change the weird feeling between you two but nothing would come out of your mouth.

You just lay beside Kiara’s sleeping figure in the dark, unable to sleep after tonight.

To be continued…

————————————-★————————————-

wow that was long , I LOVED THIS REQUEST AND LIKE PLS GIVE ME MORE GUYS. ABOUT MORE CHARACTERS IN OTHER SHOWS/ MOVIES

if u liked this pls lemme know so i can start on part 2.

i love gaining mutuals guys cmon 😓

hes so hot omfg

#girlblogging #fanfic #just girly things #obx x reader #obx fic #obx imagine #obx jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #fypツ #fypシ #fypage #outerbanks fanfiction #rafe obx #outer banks #jj mayback x reader

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peachdues · 11 months

Text

The Great War (Giyuu x F!Reader Bundle of Joy)

Secret pregnancy fic!

I had this queued up before my hiatus so I’ll give you a crumb 😘

(y’all can’t yell at me for this)

CW: night terrors, trauma, strangulation (I swear fluff comes later)

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

It was Giyuu, only it wasn’t Giyuu.

Y/N didn’t recognize the cold black that had replaced the soft azure of her lover’s eyes. There was none of the familiar tenderness or quiet affection that she had come to know and love. No warmth; no mercy.

Y/N gazed only into an empty black void that had taken over her beloved as she struggled for breath, her hands weakly clawing at the hand he had locked around her neck, crushing her throat with rapidly increasing force.

“G-Giyuu,” She choked. Black spots danced across her vision and her lungs squeezed for air that would not come.

The world suddenly seemed to slow down, as though she were under water; her blood rushed in her ears as her hands lost their weak hold around her lover’s hand, and Y/N knew her end had come.

In one last, desperate attempt to recall the man she loved, Y/N limply moved one hand to rest gently on his face.

He flinched from her touch.

“I-I’m not…y-your enemy, G-Giyuu…” she managed before her hand felt limply to her side.

And then there was nothing.

————————————————————————

With a gasp, Giyuu felt the world around him open.

His senses returned to him sluggishly, the smells and sounds of even his and Y/N’s quiet wing of the shared estate overwhelming to him as he struggled to regain his breath. His heart thumped wildly in his chest to the point of pain and his muscles strained from tension.

Another night terror. This time, the souls of his dead comrades and friends had tried to pull him beneath an endless oasis of murky water, the Infinity Castle looming ominously in the distance.

As he had been pulled below the lapping waters by the dead, he had shot out his arm, desperately clenching for anything by to grab onto, to help pull him back to the surface and away.

What had he been grabbing, anyways?

He could not remember, though, as Giyuu’s senses slowly returned to him, he became vaguely aware that he was indeed gripping something.

Still panting, he slowly looked down to inspect what precisely his hand had latched onto.

It took him a moment to process what he was seeing; below him, pinned between his knees, was Y/N, her arms limp at her sides and her eyes closed.

She was slightly suspended from her place on the floor near their shared futon, shoulders pulled up but her head slumped oddly back.

Giyuu distantly realized that she was half-pulled from the floor by the hand that was still wrapped firmly around her throat.

His own hand.

With a horrified cry, Giyuu released his grip. He had awoken from one night terror straight into another, only this one was real, and his fiancé was unconscious on their bedroom floor, with strangulation marks from his own fingers already blooming across her throat and neck.

“Y/N…” he said shakily, tears already falling as he leaned forward to check for her breath or for her pulse.

“Y/N,” the former Water Pillar sobbed again, hand shaking as he grazed her face, brushing her hair back. His arm trembled as it slid beneath her, pulling her motionless body up to his chest as he clutched his fiancé close, rocking back and forth.

“Tengen,” he cried, his tears making it almost impossible for him to see, to do anything that could help, as the panic within him built. “Sanemi! Anyone!”

—————————————————————————

(…..)

As the former Sound Pillar hoisted the sobbing raven haired man from the hall of the estate, Suma turned to Makio, her hand clamped over her mouth in sudden horror.

“Isn’t she pregnant?” She breathed.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Now wait til August!

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #tomioka giyuu #giyuu x reader #giyuu tomioka #giyuu #giyuu x y/n #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny

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kawakalalala · 5 months

Text

Outlaw: 1

INTRODUCTION POST!

wc: ~1.8k

tags: pretty much just kissing, nothing too crazy yet!

a/n: thank you all so much for being patient with me while i crank this bitch out! i’m really excited to see what u guys think :3

You’d heard the voice before. Hundreds of times. His voice rattled your bones like a late August thunderstorm over the lake.

“Hands up.”

You turn with your hands in the air expecting just to see Jerry Anderson, the sheriff who’d been after you since you were old enough to run.

There was never even a thought to not run. You could weasel your way out of anything; you’d been running your whole life. But something in you kept you from grabbing at the gun on your hip.

“Ain’t nowhere to run no more, huh?”

You weren’t sure what came over you. ‘Easy’ wouldn’t have even begun to describe how quickly you could kill this man. In a hundred ways. But you knew what you needed, and you knew what the way to get that was. It was surprising for you to see a second person, behind him, taller and broader, with a face hidden by the shadow of a hat.

“Looks like it.” You drop down to your knees and lay down your revolver, kicking it out of reach. The Sheriff was surely on top of the world right now. He’d been trying to get you for years after the killing. It was personal, but not on purpose.

The broader figure starts to move, slowly becoming illuminated by the soft glow of your campfire.

You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Abigail Anderson. You almost didn’t recognize her, but there was no way you could've forgotten the way her freckles bit her cheeks, the soft bump in her nose, and the softness of her jaw. She’d worn her hair in a braid then too, but now it was long enough to dangle past her shoulder blades. Had that much time really passed?

She passed you and walked up to Belle, the liver chestnut overo mare. She wasn’t as fast as she was when you met her; she needed a little more grace around turns, and her white fur started to bleed into warm brown on her face. You loved her more than you could love anything, because there wasn’t much to love about the life you led.

“Don’t tie her to your horse,” you turn to face Abigail, “she’ll bite him in the ass.”

She exhales with the faintest likeness of a laugh.

“How d’ya suppose we’ll get her back to town then?”

You shrug, knowing she’d follow you wherever you went. You don’t notice you’ve been handcuffed until you go to stand up.

Jerry Anderson was kinder to you than he should’ve been, considering what you’d done to him. His hand is heavy on your shoulder as you pull yourself onto his wagon.

✦✦✦

You wake up to the light from your cell’s window prodding at your eyelids. Large enough to see everything, (including Belle, hitched up outside, still sleeping).

“They decide where I’m goin’ yet?” You shout at Abigail, scribbling away on some papers near the front door.

There were a handful of things that were convenient about your position: the sheer size of your town made it so it was only necessary to have a few cells in the sheriff’s department. (if you could even call it that.) And that you always had company.

“No. We ain’t even sent out the mail this mornin’. Give it some time.” She laughs.

“Whatcha doin' over there?”

“Nothing,”

“Well ‘nothing’ seems quite time-consuming.”

She finally turns around and looks at you, and you see her clearly now. The light scar across her cheek, her soft blue eyes, her supple, soft pink lips, and the toothy smile she gives you when she asks, “What are you getting at?” Seeming only slightly annoyed.

“Nothing.”

“I’ll be sure to get the mail with your papers sent out today,” A smile pulls at her lips, but you don’t notice it.

You’re picking at your nails when you ask, “This all you do all day? Seems like I’m a mighty fine companion to keep around.”

“What do you do all day then? Steal and kill?” She turns back around in her chair.

“Pretty much,” you stand up and stretch, a groan escaping your lips. “I love murder.” You try to stay as deadpan as possible, but you can't hold back a giggle, sitting down with your back against the cell door and peering out the window at Belle.

“I’m serious,” her tone changes, “Why on earth would you want to live runnin’?”

“It was freeing once, “ you tell her, the back of your head against the heavy metal bars of the door, “but freedom gets lonely sometimes.”

“Seems real convenient that this revelation is gettin’ had after you been caught,” there's an edge to her voice, but it’s still smooth and cool, like a stone in the palm of your hand.

“It ain’t no revelation, darlin’, I just finally made a choice,” you say matching her edge as best you could, “and your Daddy ain’t do no catching, I let him have me. ”

“Bless his heart,” she says, “but I’ll believe you there. He couldn’t pour water out of a boot if the directions were on the bottom.” You both laugh, and for a brief moment, you forget what brought you here in the first place.

She turns around to look at you. For a brief moment, you and Abigail are 12 years old again. The wind whispers her name, and you’re watching the sunrise on your walk to school. You like her because she doesn’t talk about boys. She doesn’t talk about much of anything. You like her company, and she likes yours. At the end of your twelfth summer, she doesn’t want to walk with you anymore, and you don’t ask, or even wonder why. You walk to school alone until you drop out at 15. You turn to look at her.

The door opens, and you watch as Jerry walks in. The way he looks at you makes your stomach churn.

“Mornin’ sir,” you smile at him, and he ignores you.

“You can put her outside y’know,” he says to Abigail, like you aren’t even there. “them stalls under the barn lock.” He laughs, and your blood boils.

“We’ll see.” Abigail tries to forget about the hard part of this job. She’s always trying to forget about the hard part of this job. She knew you once.

You hold your tongue until Jerry leaves. He talks to Abigail a bit longer, and makes another offer to “get rid” of you for her.

Part of him stays when he walks out the door. Suddenly you realize what you’ve done. The fantasy of a free life might’ve been attainable if you were a less successful bandit, but there’s no way you’ll ever be a free woman.

You’re never going to be free. You’re going to die here, with a failed childhood friendship and a man who wants you dead. You’re never going to feel the sun on your skin again.

You’re going to die here or somewhere worse. You’re going to watch your life walk by you and you’re stuck behind bars because of a stupid one-off thought you had. Your breathing gets heavy and your head spins, and suddenly you’re grabbing onto anything you can get ahold of.

You should’ve fucking shot him.

✦✦✦

“What in the hell was that?” her voice is cool and smooth, even when she tries to have any semblance of urgency.

“Dunno.” You’re both on the ground. Her right hand cradles the back of your head, holding your hair off your neck, and her left holds a glass of water to your lips.

“That ever happen before?” Her eyebrows are furrowed with concern, and you stay silent, taking a sip.

She doesn’t seem to mind. She watches you intently, readjusting her hand on your neck. You set down the water and look at her.

“Why’ve you been so damn kind to me?” Your eyes well with tears, and her furrowed brow softens, just a little. “I’m a criminal, Abigail, I’m not- I’m not a good person.”

“I ain’t a good person neither.” Her voice is almost a whisper. “Have some more water.”

“Okay.”

You’d never been one to listen to anyone. You were entirely uninterested in being told what to do. But the way she spoke to you was different. You didn’t seem to have a problem taking orders from her, because she genuinely seemed like she cared. She wasn’t patronizing or arrogant.

“I’m sorry I stopped being your friend.” Her hand is warm against your skin.

“That was so many years ago.”’

“Don’t make me less sorry.” Her hand moves slowly from your neck to your jaw.

“I’ll give you a second chance,” Your eyes dart from her blue eyes to her lips, and for a moment, everything goes silent.

“I’d like that I think.” She inhales sharply, and drops her hand. “I got some paperwork to fill out. D’you need anything?”

“Yeah, I think so,” You say before kissing her softly, just once. You pull away and look at her, and you lift one hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She looks at you like you electrocuted her. “Think that’s all.”

Something clicks in her head and she lunges to kiss you. It's sudden, but it’s soft. She’s soft. You reach down to replace her hand on the meeting of your neck and jaw, and she places another hand on the small of your back. Tension releases in your shoulders that you hadn’t noticed was there in the first place. You place a hand on each of her shoulders and push her backwards, still following her lips with yours. You can feel the muscle in her shoulders, but she’s pliable and obedient in your hands.

Your tongues dance against one another with the same cadence as the wind in the grass at the end of your twelfth summer. And as the light of the sun on your twenty-sixth summer falls over the same grass, you pull away from Abigail to look at the small smile pulling at her mouth, the flush across her cheeks, her pupils blown and her lips only slightly swollen.

“Whatcha lookin’ at me for?” Her voice is almost a whisper.

“You’re beautiful, Abigail. Damn near the most handsome woman I ever seen.”

She can’t bring herself to say anything in response. She can’t even bring herself to look up at you. She can’t bring herself to lock you back in here, and sit out at her desk and watch, let the state take you away and hang you for your crimes.

“I’m gonna get you out of this goddamn place.”

“You’re what?”

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #tlou part 2 #tlou x reader #tlou2 #lesbian #abby anderson hcs #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #tlou #the last of us #tlou fic #tlou abby

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 1 year

Text

Champion of the World **^

Part 2 of Music Producer! Harry blurb as requested in the notes by @totodiamond :) I just did a proper one shot for it.

Warnings: Oral (f receiving), fingering, sex, mentions of death and loss, cheating.

WC: 9k

LAST WARNING... If you haven't read the BLURB first you can do so here.

The reception of Y/N’s band’s new album was expected to be pretty promising. Granted, their music wasn’t “mainstream”, but Harry had insisted that they have 2 singles on the album to get them more on the radar and well, it had worked. Their second single had a more indie-pop feel and swept the nation thanks to a TikTok posted by their label. Because of it’s popularity it really helped hype up the anticipation for their album release and it was projected to do really well. They were also projecting that the second single would be the “song of the summer”. And well, they would start to tour in August so they would be busy from August until next May.

The topic of tour seemed to be the most frequently asked question as she navigated through the room at the album’s launch party. This was their first headlining tour, they had opened on a few tours for several shows with their EP and first album, but this was the big one. Their self-titled album. Because this is how they made a name for themselves. It was a lot to take in and the more people asked the more overwhelmed Y/N felt. There were people everywhere and she was slowly starting to get anxious and she just needed a little break so she headed outside to catch some fresh air. When she got out there someone was smoking off to the side and the scent just called to her. She hadn’t smoked in years, but she was feeling nostalgic, so she went up to him and bummed a cigarette off of him before the man headed inside. She had just taken her first drag and it felt so familiar that she smiled to herself.

“Seriously?” She heard and immediately recognized the voice and turned to her right to see Harry walking over to her with a disbelieving smirk on his face. She was partially hidden behind a giant palm planter for this very reason, she didn’t want a scolding from anyone about her smoking. She knew cigarettes were gross and bad for you, but she was feeling nostalgic when the scent reached her nose and she gave in just this once.

“I know, I know…but I haven’t smoked in maybe 4 years, it’s just this once. Don’t narc me out to Richard.” She said to Harry of their manager as he stopped before her, still smirking.

“Gimme that.” He said extending his hand to her and she frowned.

“Fine. Just one more though.” She said to him and he laughed softly.

“Relax, I’m not gonna put it out. Nor will I narc you out.” He said to her lowly and she smiled at him as she passed it on over, “D’you mind?” He asked as he raised it to his mouth and she shook her head.

“Go for it.” She assured and he proceeded to put the filter between his lips and inhaled for a few seconds before letting the smoke flow out from between his slightly parted lips as he exhaled.

“Wow, I haven’t smoked in ages either.” He said to her with a smile, “It’s as awful and comforting as I remember.” He added and she chuckled.

“Yeah…” she agreed.

“I promised myself I’d never do that again…thanks.” He joked and she shrugged.

“I’m sorry for tempting you. I’ve heard that I tend to bring out the worst in people…” she apologized with a half smile on her face.

“No you don’t.” He shook his head, “You bring out the wild side in people, but it’s only because you’re so effortlessly cool and yourself. Like people want to impress you. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” He said and she smiled.

“Is that what this was? You trying to impress me?” She teased him.

“No, I have some dignity.” He countered with a grin and she laughed loudly as he chuckled, “Nah, I saw you walk out in a bit of a rush and just wanted to make sure you were alright.” He explained, “So are you alright?”

“Yeah, it just got a little overstimulating in there. Too many lights and voices and questioned and smells…it was a lot.” She said and he hummed as he took another drag before handing the cigarette back and she immediately took a drag.

“Oh, the shitty parts of acquiring fame…”

“Yeah.” She giggled as the smoke billowed out of her mouth. He started at her lips for a few seconds as she glanced off somewhere else. Her lips were slightly swollen and looked so smooth and juicy from whatever product she had on them. He’d been dying to kiss her for months, but he didn’t want to start anything with her while they were actively involved in a professional relationship.

“Are you excited for the tour?” He asked after a few beats of silence. And she wasn’t annoyed when he asked about it, but maybe it’s because it was him.

“Yeah, we already start rehearsals next week! I think we need to re-work the setlist though…but we’ll see once we run the full show through.”

“Are you guys rehearsing here?”

“Yeah, we’ll stay in LA.” She confirmed, “What’s next for you?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve got a couple offers on the table for different gigs, just not sure what to choose.” He confessed and she hummed.

“Well which one has you most excited?” She asked and he bit his lip pensively.

“Ummm…I’ve been approached to compose for an indie film…” he said and she gasped in surprise.

“Oh? That’s so cool, Harry!”

“Yeah.” He smiled, “I haven’t really done any original compositions since…maybe grad school?” He said with a questioning expression, “So it’s not out of my skillset, but I’m definitely out of my depth and out of practice. I’m sure I’m rusty, but it’s something different than what I’ve been doing the last few years, you know? So it seems the most exciting and challenging.”

“Yeah. That’s really sick. What’s the storyline? If I can ask.” She said and he nodded.

“Yeah, ummm, it’s one of those dystopian love stories…so like the world’s gonna end in a few weeks and we’re all gonna die and it’s about like making peace with yourself and living in the moment, finding the beauty in the tragedy…that kind of thing. I really liked the script, it’s so realistic and well written. I’ve even considered going for one of the lead roles.” He said to her and she smiled.

“Oh? Acting too?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled timidly.

“Well aren’t you multitalented!” She smiled as he smiled bashfully, “Well, it sounds really cool, definitely sounds like something I’d watch. If only to hear your compositions.” She said and he smiled.

“Hey, if I say yes maybe you can sing on a track.” He suggested and she smiled.

“Yeah, I’d be down.” She assured as she flicked the ash off of her cigarette before taking another drag and exhaling, “Do you want another?”

“Yeah, last one.” He said and she chuckled as she passed it over to him. Once he took his drag he held it out to her.

“I’m good. You can kill it or…kill it.” She said and he smiled as he stepped over to the little ashtray over the garbage bin and extinguished what was left of the cigarette before stepping back over to her.

“So, should I keep myself open for your next album or has the illusion of having me produce your albums died?” He asked with a grin and Y/N laughed aloud at his question before biting down on her lip to suppress a smile.

“Ummm, I’d say keep yourself open…I think I need to give you a fair shot.”

“Oh… OK.” He smiled contently, “Good. I’ve got some really great ideas for some of the songs we cut from this album that can help kind of establish your sound for the next one.” He said.

“Geez…already? Everything moves so fast here.”

“You’re definitely not in Kansas anymore…” he smiled at her and she rolled her eyes playfully, “Don’t roll your eyes, you know you want to laugh.” He said to her and she finally did but shook her head.

“I’m not even from Kansas! I just went to school there!”

“Yeah, but the rest of your band is, and it was formed there, so whether you like it or not, you’re now from Kansas - well according to Wikipedia you are - so the joke works.” He said smugly.

“You wikipedia-ed me?”

“Well, I wiki-ed the band before I agreed to work with you guys. You’ve seriously never googled anything about me?” He asked her incredulously.

“Eh, kind of…I mean, I googled narcissistic personality disorder, to see if you met the criteria for it…” she said and he laughed loudly and she smirked, “When I realized that I was reaching, I googled your birthday and discovered you’re an Aquarius, and well…that explained a lot. Like how you’re so great at your job but also a control freak and kind of a dick.” She teased and he shook his head.

“I see how it is…” he hummed in mock offense and she reached out for his arm, her hand rested against his bicep.

“I don’t think that of you anymore, just to clarify. It was before when I was still mad at you. I’m sorry. You’re perfectly normal according to the DSM-5.” She assured giving him a small, reassuring squeeze and he grinned.

“Yeah, thank you for stating the obvious.” He chuckled as her hand started to slip away from him and he grabbed it in his, which made her look up into his eyes. Her heart rate starting speeding up as her eyes met his own before he glanced down at her hand, “This is nice.” He said to her as his thumb grazed over the sunburst ring on her middle finger. She looked down as well and felt her tummy flutter at his innocent, but very intimate gesture.

“Thank you. My sister gave it to me.” She replied, her hand still in his. He hadn’t made a move to let go and she hadn’t made a move to pull her hand away from his either, so their eyes met again as their hands came down, still connected by their middle fingers being hooked together. The tension and electricity buzzing between them was extremely obvious.

“It’s gonna be weird not seeing you guys every day.” He said to her and she smiled.

“Yeah…everyone’ll miss you, if that’s any consolation.” She said with a small smile and he smiled down at the ground and asked his question before he could talk himself out of it.

“What about you? Are you gonna miss me too?” He inquired before looking back into her eyes and she smiled bashfully.

“Gee, I don’t know…what do you think?” She asked playfully and he chuckled.

“I mean can you blame me for asking? Your messages and feelings towards me are kind of hard to read.” He said and she hummed as she bit her lip pensively and then glanced up to his eyes before placing her hands on chest and tiptoeing to graze her lips over his. Her eyes flickered up to his.

“Does this clear things up for you?” She asked with a soft smile and he smirked.

“Ummm, it’s still a little murky.” He teased.

“Oh yeah?” she responded quietly and he hummed teasingly, “Let me make it clearer then.” She whispered before pressing her lips to his. His hands immediately found their place at her waist as hers slithered up to loop around his neck. Their soft and playful kisses soon turned into languid and hungrier kisses as the seconds passed them by in their dark little hiding place.

Harry now had Y/N up against the wall with one hand around the back of her neck and the other against the wall as he sank his teeth into her bottom lip before sliding his tongue in against her own. Her beautiful, breathy moan made his ears perk up and ring. It was such a beautiful and sensual sound, he wanted to put it on a track; layer it in somewhere and commemorate it as the beautiful and artistic sound it was. Her index fingers were hooked into his trouser’s belt loops, keeping him as physically close as she could. She wanted to disappear into the night with him and see where they ended up. The tension between them had been building for months and well, they hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks after they finished production on the album, so she assumed that the tension would dissipate with time. But she was discovering that hadn’t affected her longing for him, not even a little bit.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” He asked her quietly, and admittedly with a smidge of uncertainty, as his nose skimmed down the length of hers in a delicate and playful gesture.

“Yeah.” She whispered and nodded her head in a double confirmation to him that she wanted to be alone with him.

“Alright.” He smiled against her mouth and she smiled as well before he grabbed her hand and pulled her around the building towards where he parked. He was given a spot right out back instead of having to valet, which would be a waste of precious time with her. So they hurried around to the back and they got inside and took off. He was in his classic, white Mercedes with the top down, so when they were leaving, they were inevitably papped. And as much as she tried to keep her head down to avoid being recognized as the woman in his car any comparison in outfit would easily prove that she had in fact left her own launch party with Harry, her producer.

“God, they’re everywhere!” Y/N griped as they finally got on the main street and were stopped at the traffic light.

“And there’s more.” He said to her as he cocked his head to the people who had followed them on the sidewalk up to the light and were snapping pictures of them in the car.

“Jesus.” She huffed.

“Wait, where’s your stuff?”

“Oh I didn’t bring anything with me, just myself.”

“Not even your wallet or phone?”

“No, I mean, food and drink were provided and every person that I would be texting was there tonight.”

“Richard forbid you from bringing your phone, didn’t he?” Harry asked with a smirk and she sighed.

“OK, yes, he did…he said something about me sulking in the corner all the time or whatever.”

“You do look very unapproachable when you’re on your phone. You’ve got this like…broody, angry face going on.” He said trying to mimic it and she laughed loudly before they took off as the light turned green.

“That’s not my angry face, if anyone should be familiar with my angry face it’s you.” She reminded and he chuckled, “S’my concentration face. Like sometimes I get ideas and I start writing them in my notes or other times I’m reading a book or an article and it’s like so loud that it takes extra willingness to concentrate.” She explained and he smiled at her.

“Well maybe don’t read at parties.” He suggested and she glanced at him incredulously.

“If I don’t read at parties how will I maintain my reputation as mysterious and elusive, Harry?” She asked jokingly and he grinned.

“You’re so annoying.” He muttered as she giggled beside him.

“So where are we going?” She finally asked and he turned to her.

“Ummm, wherever you want to go.” He shrugged and she hummed pensively.

“Take me to…a place that means a lot to you.” She said and he chuckled.

“Here?!” He asked and she nodded, “God...this is my home, tons of places mean a lot to me.” He chuckled as he thought about it, “OK, I’ve got it. Hang on!” He warned with a big smile as he sped up and just made it onto the 405-S ramp.

Y/N’s hair was whipping back with the wind as they sped down the freeway. He was blasting Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac which made her feel like she was the main character because before he played it he said it was dedicated to her elusiveness and mysteriousness, which she appreciated. Soon he was signaling to get off on La Cienega and as they continued driving down the street she saw the giant Randy’s Donut donut and she gasped.

“You know, I’ve never actually been here before! Is this where we’re going?” She asked happily and he chuckled.

“It’s not, but we can stop if you want?”

“It’s alright.”

“You sounded so excited, like you wanted to stop. So I’m gonna stop.” He said as he started to slow down as they approached the entrance and she smiled at him.

“Well, if you insist…” she hummed and he chuckled. They found a spot to park and walked over to the window. It was 10pm but there were still a few people in line waiting to be served. “What do you get?” She asked him.

“Usually the maple raised, wheat and honey cake, or the red velvet one if I’m feeling particularly fancy.” He said to her and she smiled.

“That does sound good…” she said as she peeked around a few people to get a better look at the menu displayed on a big screen inside. “They have a fruity pebbles one.” She gasped.

“Such a child.” He joked.

“I didn’t say I was going to get it. Fruity pebbles are just super nostalgic and they smell amazing.” She defended.

“That’s true, they do smell divine…”

“Oh, they have blueberry…that’s it. That’s the one I want.”

“OK.” He chuckled.

As they stood in line Harry couldn’t help but notice that a few guys in the other line were ogling her a bit too much for his liking. They were obviously young since they were being obnoxious and loud, trying to get her to turn around, but she didn’t seem to be taking the bait. He leaned in closer to her and grabbed her hand, which caught her by surprise and she glanced up to him and he smiled down at her.

“Is this OK?” He asked her lowly and she nodded as she scooted a little closer to him as a light breeze blew over them and made her shiver. She was in a thin little party dress and her platform boots and the night was only getting colder, they were due for more rain over the weekend. He wasn’t even wearing a jacket he could offer her so he just pulled her in front of him and hugged around her waist. He couldn’t help but smile as her hands came up to his and she slotted her fingers in between his. She smiled as his warmth pressed into her back and she just leaned her weight back on him. He leaned down a bit to reach her ear before he spoke, “That’s what I mean when I said people are always trying to impress you.” He said quietly and her body shook with a giggle.

“How is being obnoxious impressive?”

“I literally have no idea.” He chuckled as they moved up in the line.

“Hi, I’m so sorry to interrupt.” They heard from beside them and turned to see a younger girl and her friend standing a few feet away, “We really like your album.” One of the girls said with a nervous smile.

“Oh! Thank you so much! I really appreciate it.” Y/N smiled happily, but she kept her voice down as Harry let her go so she could talk to the girls who started gushing about how pretty she looked. Which they were right, she looked beautiful.

Well, to Harry she always did, but she did just a little bit more when she had events and things to do. Often times he felt that when people did themselves up for events they went so overboard that they barely even looked like themselves, but not Y/N. She had mastered this effortless look that proved that a little goes a long way; she was almost ethereal. He liked that she didn’t care to hire a glam team to turn her into another Hollywood starlet clone; she and the rest of the band did most of their looks themselves. He recalls that at the BRITS earlier in the year she was crammed between him and Kassie, smearing some eyeshadow onto her eyelids and getting on her mascara just minutes before they would have to walk the carpet. Witnessing that made him like her even more. That was what drew him to them in the first place, their authenticity, and well if anyone was a champion of unapologetically being your authentic self it was her. She made everyone feel good about exactly who they were and he loved that about her.

“Harry, would you mind taking a picture for us?” She asked him and he shook his head.

“Course not.” He smiled as one of the girls handed over her phone to him. He took several and then handed it back.

“Can we get one with both of you too? You’re like a total icon.” The girl said to Harry and he shook his head bashfully.

“Hardly.” He said to her humbly as Y/N asked the person ahead of them to take their picture. After they got a few pictures the girls said their goodbyes and got back into the line. As soon as she and Harry stepped up he boxed her in between his body and the counter. “Hi, can I get a blueberry cake, red velvet cake, and a…large? Crewneck?” He said to the woman at the window and she nodded.

“What color for the crewneck? We have gray and navy blue.” She said.

“What color?” He asked Y/N softly and she glanced between him and the cashier.

“Oh! For me?”

“Yeah, you’re shivering and I don’t have anything in my car.” He said to her and she smiled at him.

“Ummm, I’ll get the gray one.” She said to the woman who nodded and then gave them the total before rushing off to grab their stuff. “I’m paying you back.”

“Absolutely not. This is your first time here, so think of it as a commemoration gift.” He said to her and she shook her head. “And if you ever try to pay me back I will return it to you in pennies.” He said and she laughed as she shook her head.

“You’re something else.”

“I know, love. I know.” He hummed.

“Here you are!” The woman said as she returned with the sweater and a baggy with their donuts.

“Thank you!” He and Y/N said simultaneously before walking off to the side. “Gimme these.” Harry said grabbing the donuts from Y/N and he gripped the bag between his teeth as he helped pull the crewneck over her head as she got her arms into the sleeves. Yes, it was oversized on her, but crewnecks were meant to be baggy, they just were. It was a bit long as well, it was a bit shorter on her than the dress she was wearing and it made him wonder what she’d look like in his own clothes. He liked wearing oversized things just as much as everyone else, so he’d imagine that she’d look absolutely swallowed and adorable in his hoodies. They walked back to his car hand in hand before they each had to get into their own sides and as they sat down she turned to him.

“I have to tell you something.” She said and he looked a little bit concerned but nodded, indicating for her to go on. “I really, really love that you don’t open the car door for me.” He looked at her with narrowed eyes, “I swear I’m not being a smart ass or sarcastic. Like when guys do that it just…bothers me because like…. I have functioning arms, you know? Like I can do that myself, I don’t need help! And it’s not like one of those general polite things, like holding the door open for someone who’s behind you! Like that makes sense, because it’s more than one person coming through the door! But in the car only one person can get into the passenger side so why does someone else even think to touch my door?” She asked and he chuckled.

“I can see you’re very passionate about this.” He grinned and she sighed and nodded.

“Yes. Yes, I am…for some weird reason. It’s just relieving and it just might be by favorite thing about you.” She decided and he grinned.

“Seriously? My unwillingness to participate in benevolent sexism is your favorite thing about me?” He asked for clarification and she smiled.

“Yes.”

“It can’t be anything else?” He asked and she rolled her eyes up as she hummed pensively.

“Mmmm… no. That’s it.” She confirmed and he chuckled.

“I’ll check again at the end of the night if that’s your favorite thing about me.” He said smugly and she turned to him with a grin.

“What’s that supposed to mean? What are you insinuating?” She questioned and he smirked.

“You’ll see…” he hummed as he started the car and they took off. They only drove a few more minutes before Y/N saw the Sizzler’s on her left and then the Forum right up ahead. “Oh…interesting.” She said and he smiled at her.

“Yeah.” He said to her and she hummed, really anxious now to see why this particular place meant a lot to him. They kept driving straight and went around the back of the lot and he wheeled to a stop. It was desolate tonight, which was rare. He put the car in park and she turned to him and he smiled.

“So when I was 14 we came here on a family vacation. Like my parents and sister and aunt and uncle cousins…I’m the baby of the family by the way.” He disclosed and she smiled as he shared this, “So…my oldest cousin discovered that Coldplay had a show and he’d missed their show in England and he wanted to go. My sister was also a fan and I mean, I was too.”

“Yeah, it’s Coldplay!” Y/N said and he chuckled.

“Exactly! So my cousin convinced the adults to let us get tickets, they didn’t want to bring me along because I was the youngest, but I wanted to go. Anyway, saw Coldplay, my first concert ever.” He said and she smiled, “And afterwards we were waiting to get picked up, but my stepdad got lost and ended up going another way so we were just hanging out, right over there because it was well lit.” He pointed to where the trailers and trucks were usually set up, “My cousin and sister went up to see the merch and I just waited there, with my other cousin like they told me to.” He recalled, “And then out of nowhere a couple girls started panicking and Chris and Will walk on over to say hello.”

“No way!” Y/N giggled with surprise and he nodded.

“Yeah! And he was so kind to everyone. I didn’t have anything with me to get a photo or an autograph. But I was the only child there so he gravitated my way, asked where I was from and he was happy to hear that we were from England. And me being the brazen kid I was, I told him I also sang and wanted to start a band with my friends from school, like they did. And he told me that he was rooting for me, to believe in my music, and to never give up on my music. And…so I never did.” He finished his story and she was smiling so brightly. His story was so wholesome it made her eyes well up, that was so beautiful! What an experience to have with someone.

“That’s so amazing, Harry. Like so fucking cool!” She said with excitement and he hummed and nodded.

“I got really lucky that night.” He said softly “And well, whenever I get stuck or feel insecure or like I’m losing my touch I come here and it reminds me to never give up on my music. To continue believing in myself…so that’s why this place means a lot to me.”

“And well, you’ve produced for Coldplay now. Did he remember you?” She asked and he chuckled.

“He kind of did, mostly because I was a British child at one of their LA shows.” He said as they laughed softly, “He didn’t remember what we had spoken about or anything specific. And I did tell him and thank him because, if he hadn’t said that to me I’d definitely be in a whole other world, you know? It was cool and so fucking unreal for someone like me to have that full circle moment that so many people never get.” He expressed and she nodded, “And you know, those of us that get to spend our lives drowning in our passion, making art, literally getting paid to live and experience the best life has to offer just so that we can commemorate it with our art…like we’re so fortunate and so fucking lucky. It’s hard to remember that sometimes with the dark sides of this industry or even just the fame. But this is the best thing that will ever happen to you, Y/N. And what you do now that you have this platform matters more than ever. And that’s why I like you and the band, you guys are so down to earth, you’re in it for the art, you’re in it to have fun, you’re all so genuine and yourselves…never change that. Because as long as you stay in tune with yourself, even when you get stuck or feel like giving up, you’ll find your way back.” He said with certainty. And as he looked back to her she was watching him intently and then nodded in understanding at what he’d just advised. “Sorry, that got super deep, super fast-”

“It’s alright. I mean, we were bound to get deep when I asked you to bring me someplace meaningful to you.” She said and he shrugged and smiled.

“True…”

“And I know that I’ve got this like look about me that screams “I learn on my own” and “I don’t care what anyone says”, but it’s just that, a look. I promise that after the whole thing with Dr. Auclair I started taking in and listening and considering everything you’ve said to me. So I just want you to know that I listened to what you’ve just said to me, and thank you because after feeling so overwhelmed by everything tonight I just… I really needed to hear that. And I’m not going to forget it.” She shared and he smiled as he reached for her hand she smiled as he slotted their fingers together. “H, hand me the aux.” she said and he grabbed his phone and gave it over and she turned the phone away from him to type something out and then she locked it before grabbing his hand again and second later “Champion of the World” started to play over the car’s speaker and he smiled down at his lap before turning his head to look at her.

“Nice one.” He said softly and she smiled brightly at him. She was in love with the way he was looking at her in this moment. Her smile slowly started to fade as she just took him in intently. She was memorizing the details of his perfectly sculpted face, memorizing the indecipherable feeling he was emitting through his eyes. Whatever it was, it was undoubtedly a good feeling. She started to lean in and he joined her in the middle as their lips met with blazing passion as these big, beautiful emotions surged through and between them. “Do…” he paused as his lips smashed into hers once more, “d’you wanna…go back t’mine?” He rushed out with his exhale before their lips met again. He felt her nod ‘yes’ but he wanted to hear her say it. He need to, so that he knew for a fact that he wasn’t imaging that Y/N, this marvelous and radiant person, wanted him too. “Hmmm?” He insisted.

“Yeah.” She mumbled, “Take me home.” She said quietly. It was so hard to tear away from her after she said that to him.

It was just a 20 minute drive to his house in the hills and the whole time they held hands. Once they got there they wasted no time in getting inside and to his bedroom. They were undressing on the way there. It was giggly and clumsy because for some reason she was leading while Harry called out directions to her, but her unfamiliarity with his space was showing as she bumped into things along the way. When she finally got to his room he picked her up from behind and flung her onto his bed. She shrieked as she landed on the mattress with a muted thump. Harry soon climbed over her and kissed her through his smile.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He hummed into her lips and she smiled. “I can’t get over it.” He exhaled before they started making out again.

Y/N whimpered as his erection rubbed over her dribbling pussy. Well, over her panties, but she was so sensitive that he might as well have been rubbing himself bare through her folds. A wave of warmth pulsed through her body as his lips moved down her neck. She arched her back as he started to snake his hands under to get her bra unclasped. He did so quickly and dexterously before pulled it away from her body and sucked her nipple into his mouth. She hummed with pleasure as the other was fondled with intent. He wasn’t being delicate with her and she loved that.

“Oh fuck…” she chuckled as he bit down on her nipple for a few seconds before sucking it hard. She was so wet for him that she was squirming as her cunt throbbed and pulse with need, “Harry. Harry, please.” She keened as she tried to find his hips with her own, “Need you inside. I need to feel you so bad.” She muttered into the dark as he sucked his mark on her breasts.

“Need me, baby?” He asked her before continuing to kiss down her body.

“Yes. Yes, I need you so bad…fuck.” She groaned as he kissed over her clothed cunt. He patted her thigh and she lifted her bum and he dragged her panties down her legs as he kissed right over her clit before licking through her slit and flicking her little bud a few times. “Harry, fuck that’s so good!” She whimpered. His licks started getting heavier and languid, sloppier even. She could feel his stubble and mustache tickling her already hypersensitive pussy as he moved his head from side to side with intent. Y/N tangled her fingers in his hair as she thrusted up to his mouth, grinding herself against him. She noticed that he grew more whiny and vocal as she used him and tugged at his hair and it made her even more aroused.

“You like when I use you to get off?” She asked and his lips turned up in a smile as his eyes fluttered up to hers, “I’ll take that as a yes.” She hummed before biting her lip and moaning, “Fuck, that’s perfect!” She praised him as he sucked her clit, brushing his tongue over it each time he’d suck it in, “Fuck…” She sighed with a smile, “y’suck my clit so good.” She panted as her tummy tightened deliciously with pleasure, “You’re gonna make me come!” She whimpered and he moaned against her, causing her toes to curl as her walls started to pulse hard and fast as she vibrated from the inside out. “Oh fuck!” She shrieked as Harry sunk two fingers into her without a warning and started to fuck her in time with his sucks on her clit. Not slowing down for a moment as she started to come.

Her hips wriggled around and her back arched as she trembled as he pulled yet another orgasm out of her without even letting her come down form the first one. Her ears were ringing and she was covered in goosebumps as the waves of pleasure rippled through her. Finally he started to slow down and then gently eased his fingers out of her.

“Taste so good, baby.” He hummed against her mound before kissing and crawling back up to her mouth. As soon as he was within reach she crashed her mouth onto his.

“That was the best head…holy fucking shit. That thing you did with the sucking and the tongue?!” She expressed with a bewildered smile.

“Enough to update your favorite thing about me?” He asked with a grin and she hummed pensively.

“I think not.” She said and he chuckled and shook his head.

“You’re such a turd.”

“Thank you.” She grinned and he chuckled. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I like still want to have sex with you. Like really badly.” She said and his eyes widened as he chuckled.

“Yeah, ummm, sorry I was just giving you a little break.”

“I don’t take breaks.” She hummed as he leaned over to grab a condom from his bedside table.

“Well, good to know.” He smirked as he knelt up to get it on himself as she repositioned herself against his pillows. Watching him roll down the condom with lustful eyes and a kiss-bitten lip held down beneath her teeth. He was so fucking perfect that it was almost physically painful. And well, Y/N could admit that he was also perfect inside, like where it counted. She pressed herself to sit up and pushed herself up to pull his head down to meet him in a deep and searing kiss. He let himself fall into it and continued his task blindly. When he shifted above her she laid back down as he guided his cock down to her entrance where he gently prodded at her leaking and tight little hole a handful of times before he surged into her. His thick cock pushed her walls apart as he glided in, in one fluid motion.

“Harry!” She gasped, back arched and body tense as he plunged in to the hilt with very little resistance, “Mmmmm you’re so deep!” She whimpered lowly.

“S’that where you wanted to feel me, baby? Are you getting what you wanted? What you need from me?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yes, Harry…” she sang breathily as he started to pulse his hips, his tip nudged into her g-spot over and over and over, her breath was hitching and her legs trembling.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing so hard…” he hummed in delight, “Come for me, baby. Cream on my cock.” He panted and she moaned loudly at his filthy words as she came undone. She was coming so hard, she’d never had an orgasm solely from having her g-spot stimulated, it was game changing. A pressure had formed inside of her that she had never felt before, but it was as he had said, that’s exactly where it ached for him and he was satiating that perfectly.

His thrusts slowed down as she settled from her orgasm, but he kept going, slow and deep, not really letting the entire feeling fade. Extending and milking the pleasure for her as far as humanly possible. And it was happening as he groaned and picked up his pace. When he started going he knocked his head back and grunted with each deep pump of his cock into her. She was so wet, the sounds of her arousal sopping her up for him were unreal, she’d never been that wet before. She was certain of it.

“I’m so close. Getting so close.” He groaned lowly as his hips started to snap harder with each dip into her pussy. One of his hands slid up from her waist to her breast, kneading it and playing with it as he brought them both closer and closer to the final orgasm. She was a fucking goddess, he wanted to obsess over her until he had learned every single detail of who she was. “Fuck, rub your little clit. Want you to come with me.” He said and she immediately did as he said. Her orgasm started to build at double speed than before. She was quickly right on the edge with him, holding on just a little bit more, trying to get the most out of this moment together until their bodies demanded their climax. “Oh shit…oh…oh… fuuuuuck.” He grunted before he started to moan as his orgasm overcame him. His desperate thrusts and gorgeous sounds pushed her over the edge. The fact that he was vocal enhanced everything for her, it brought a feeling of pleasure to her that she’d never experienced. As they lay there in satisfaction, recovering from those incredible, earth shattering orgasms she spoke up.

“I like that you’re not shy with your sounds. It’s really attractive.” She hummed as she ran her finger nails down his arm that was draped over her body.

“You know, I usually am more of a heavy breathing kind of guy. But with you being how you are, I don’t know, I just felt like I didn’t have to hold anything I felt back.” He said and she smiled.

“Yeah…you can, do that with me, you know? For like anything you need…Not hold back I mean.” She added, “You can not “hold back” with me anytime and for anything.” She rephrased and he was just smirking as she tried to un-confuse herself. She only stopped when she felt his body shaking before he burst into laughter.

“I got what you meant the first time, baby.” He assured and she shook her head as she laughed. “And I want that for you too. To not hold back with me.”

“OK. I won’t.” She smiled as she confirmed this to him.

After that night everything between Y/N and Harry changed. Any rational human would think that falling in love after one night together was completely insane, but that’s exactly what had happened. The two spent time together every single day up until the day Y/N and her band left for tour. With his newfound time alone he decided to follow through with auditioning for that film he was asked to compose for and after a few nerve-racking weeks he’d found out he’d gotten the part. Obviously, Y/N was happy for him and they celebrated over FaceTime. But now that he had a new gig he needed to just take some time to get the compositions together.

Harry worked diligently on the film score for three months. He only needed 4 pieces as there would be other songs weaved through out the film. And then it was off to filming. Filming was in Canada and that went on for 8 months. Y/N had been able to visit after the band’s tour ended, but it was just for two weeks as they were heading back into the studio soon. And just like that it had been a year apart. Because he was working on his film, he couldn’t produce their next album, though during their down time over the next holiday he did give it a listen and share some insights with her. And then the following March he got some bad news from back home about his father and he headed back for a few weeks.

When he returned he was really upset about it, but he had solely come to break up with Y/N. His dad didn’t have very long apparently and he’d been away for so long that he decided that he needed to be there with him for as long as he could. He was going to look after him until the end. And well, Y/N completely understood why he wanted and needed to do that. It was sad, but amicable. And for the first few months they continued their routine of chatting regularly, but she soon discovered that it was just prolonging her pain. She wrote a song from it that she called “Good Grief”. It was about grieving the beautiful things, remembering them with love, and simultaneously talking about it being hard to let things like that go. That song launched them into an entirely new era and things took off for the band which ended up putting even more distance between the two. Harry also didn’t move back to LA, so they didn’t even have a chance to easily see each other and with each decision pulling them further apart they inevitably fell out of touch.

It was three years after their break up now and the two were doing well. Y/N was about to be engaged. Well, she assumed she was. Her boyfriend, Riley had been extra odd all week and her friends and family were oddly unavailable so she was expecting it. Harry had just moved back to LA after all that time, he just needed a change of pace after looking after his dad for one year and then dealing with the aftermath of it all for the next few. He was excited to come back, reconnect with some old friends…and of course, talk to Y/N. He hadn’t moved on, he hadn’t loved anyone like he had loved her and he just wanted to be back in her life, in nay capacity. She was it for him, he knew that for certain.

It was a day like any other, except for one thing…she was craving a donut. But not just any donut, a red velvet donut from Randy’s. She knew it was completely ridiculous to be driving out to Inglewood at 4pm for a donut, but she was alone for the evening and had nothing better to do since apparently everyone in her life was mysteriously busy. She got in line for the drive thru and as she glanced out of her window absentmindedly she saw a very familiar face walking over to the back of the line. She smiled wide and her heart did flips and her stomach fluttered with butterflies at the sight of him. Of seeing him here of all places. Her mind went back to that night he brought her here. How perfectly wonderful that had been.

“Harry!” She shouted out the window and he glanced in her direction and his lips widened in a smile as he waved. “I’m gonna get out!” She shouted and he shot her a thumbs up and got out of the line to meet her where she parked. She rushed out of her car and straight into his arms. He hugged her tight and spun her around as they laughed and greeted each other with enthusiasm. “Wow! How insane to be running into you here!”

“I know…” he shook his head.

“What brings you to LA?” She asked.

“I’m moving back actually. Just touched down and figured a little detour wouldn’t hurt.” He said and her eyebrows raised.

“Oh, that’s good. It’ll be nice to have you within reach.” She said with a smile and he nodded, “I’m sorry about everything with your dad. I wanted to call or something, but I didn’t know if I even had the right to since we haven’t talked in a long time.” She explained herself.

“You always have a right, Y/N. Love of my life, remember?” He said and she smiled.

“Light of my life.” She said as she reached for his hand and squeezed it gently.

They got their donuts and talked for a bit before they headed off. She waited a few days and this intense need to see him again didn’t go away. So she talked to the band about it, they knew each of them the best and well, they all agreed that maybe they needed a better form of closure. So she reached out to Harry and asked him if he wanted to go for lunch. And he accepted, which is what led them to their meet up at Seabird’s Kitchen.

“You look pretty.” He complimented her as he hugged her quickly.

“Thanks. I rushed over from a meeting I had this morning.”

“Ah, work attire.”

“Yeah.” She giggled, “So how are you settling in? Are you back at the old house?” She asked and he shook his head.

“Nah, got something smaller. Got rid of that place a few years back.”

“Oh, I didn’t know.” She pouted, “So many amazing memories there.” She hummed and Harry nodded.

“So what’s up?” He asked her and she sighed.

“Well…as you know, what we had together it was…magic. Literally heaven on earth.”

“We were pretty perfect weren’t we?” He smiled fondly and she nodded.

“Yeah…and ummmm, well I’ve never really been able to 100% move on because well…there were just a lot of things left unsaid because we kind of broke up and then you went back home. And I guess I just…didn’t want to talk to you about that when I knew that you were dealing with so much already.” She explained and he hummed. “I guess I just needed closure on a few things because…well, I ummm….” She swallowed thickly, she had no idea why she felt guilty saying this to him, but it just felt wrong to tell Harry this information, it didn’t make any sense, “I think I’m getting engaged really soon.” She said and his eyebrows shot up.

“Oh!” He said and quickly morphed his surprise into a smile instead of the frown that was clawing itself to the surface, “Congrats!” He smiled brightly. He knew that she had a boyfriend…but he doesn’t know why it never felt real to him. Maybe because he hadn’t heard it from her own two lips. Or perhaps because he was far away so it didn’t feel like a reality to him? Who knows, but reality hit him over the head with that one and he could feel his heart breaking over her once again.

“Thank you.” She forced her smile as best as she could. As she looked down at his hand she could very easily picture herself holding it in hers. She could see herself enjoying it and her heart warming as she pictured their fingers interlacing together. As if no time at all had ever passed. It made her feel afraid now as all of it started rushing back to her.

“Hey, are you alright?” Harry asked her and she nodded.

“Yeah, I just got distracted.” She shook her head, “Ummm, well anyway I just wanted to I guess give us the proper goodbye we deserved.” She said and he nodded with a broken heart but he stayed for 3 hours, catching up, joking around, talking, reminiscing until it was time to go. Harry was walking Y/N to her car since she had parked quite far down the street. And when they got to her car she had him hop in so that she could give him a ride back to his car. And they hummed to her music playing from her phone as they made the short drive over, and soon they were just saying their goodbyes. He was hugging her over the console, mentally saying a different kind of goodbye to her that was making his heart wilt in his chest. They were about to pull back when “Champion of the World” started to play and she smiled as she relaxed in his hold before pulling back a bit, their foreheads pressing together and it felt like no time had passed at all.

“We’ve been here before.” He whispered and she hummed in confirmation as her eyes fluttered shut to give herself a moment. This was hurting far more than she expected it to. It felt like they were breaking up all over again and this time it was her choice and he was complacent in her decision. It felt wrong to be saying goodbye to each other twice. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna fall out of love with you.” He said softly and her eyes fluttered open and she slightly frowned as she looked from his eyes to his lips a couple of times before just doing what her intrusive thoughts had been telling her to do since he’d shown up this afternoon. She surged forward and slotted her lips against his.

Harry didn’t hesitate to kiss back. One deep kiss led them to a stolen peck, then another, and then a deeper kiss, and more and more. It felt like they were kissing to makeup for the three years they hadn’t been able to kiss. There was still so much love between them, Y/N supposes it had just been dormant this entire time he was gone. And she had indeed missed how it felt to be completely and undeniably gone for someone. There wasn’t another thought running through her mind in that moment, so as they pulled away she knew that she was still in love with him. She had been this whole time.

“Fuck…sorry.” He whispered and she shook her head.

“I kissed you, so it’s alright. I’m sorry, if I kissed you and you didn’t want to kiss me.” She apologized.

“I’d never not want to kiss you.” He chuckled and she smiled with a heat in her cheeks from his flirtations. “Do you regret it yet?” He asked teasingly and she shook her head, but she wasn’t smiling. She was completely serious.

“I can’t regret anything that happens between us. It’s just a proper goodbye, yeah?” She said sadly and he nodded wordlessly.

“Hey, you better invite me to the wedding. Just because it’s not me, it doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there or that I’m not happy for you. OK?”

“OK.” She smiled and with that he got out and they went their separate ways.

She cried the entire way home and she felt completely heart broken. Like she had lost him all over again and she couldn’t be getting married to someone when she was in love with someone who wasn’t the person she was supposed to marry. She was so absolutely confused and it was affecting her work horribly. They were in the middle of some writing sessions for their next album and she was not being even a little bit helpful. Her mind was elsewhere. And it was like that for two whole weeks and everyone was fed up with her.

“Dude what is wrong with you?” Kassie asked her and she groaned.

“I don’t know…I’m really distracted.” She fibbed and everyone sighed, “I just…can’t do this today. Sorry, guys.” She said before gathering her things and heading out. When she got to her apartment Riley was there making dinner and it made her heart sad that it wasn’t Harry.

“Hey, love!” He smiled and the smile faded as soon as he saw her face.

“Ummm, he’s back. And I asked to see him.” She said to Riley who sighed. He had been there through the entire break up, between her and Harry. At the time he was a session musician who’d been hired to play on one of their songs. But he was so nice and thoughtful. But he also knew the love that she and Harry shared for each other. In a way he always expected their paths to cross again, but he’d just hoped that it wouldn’t affect her. But he still did, in every way apparently.

“When are you seeing him?”

“It was two weeks ago.” She said and he nodded. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I was just hoping to get some closure on some stuff. But then I…I realized that I’m still in love with him. And I kissed him.” She confessed everything, “I’m really sorry.”

“Jesus, Y/N.” Riley said with disappointment.

“I know…I should’ve told you right away but I was trying to figure out what I should do.”

“There’s only one thing to do, Y/N. You said you’re in love with him.” Riley shook his head, “You know, I always knew this would happen some day.” He said lowly, “I was stupid for thinking you’d pick me though.” He said as he made his way towards the couch and grabbed his sweater and he furiously slipped into his sneakers, “Please, don’t call me when this all blows up in your face.” He said with spite before he slammed the door hard on his way out.

She frowned, obviously she deserved that, but he was a good guy. He hadn’t done anything wrong, he just….wasn’t the love of her life. Maybe she was foolish for thinking that things could start back up with Harry. Well, it’d been a few years, they’d been through plenty of things on their own, it was safe to say that they were pretty different people now. But the way things felt were exactly the same, it wasn’t just nostalgia. Being with him made her feel alive and in control and like everything would be alright. She was a bit stuck with her next step, as she weighed out her options. She sighed and decided to take a drive to the place that always helped her think.

The sun was setting as she placed her hands on the white rails of the Forum parking lot. After Harry left she’d made it her special place to come think. He had given this place a new meaning to her and it felt like the best place to decide on whether that goodbye they had was the final one or if she should give in to her desires and go after him. She stood there for a few minutes, just the sounds of the city around her.

“Why am I not surprised to see you here?” She heard and turned around to see Harry in his shorts and hoodie, smiling brightly and she smiled back.

“What brings you here?” She asked.

“Feeling a bit stuck…And you?”

“Same.” She responded. They were quiet for a little bit before she spoke up, “I think we’re feeling stuck over the same thing.” She said to him and he glanced to her, his eyes soft as he looked over to her.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Whether it’s too late for us or not.” She said softly and he hummed as he looked at her.

“Well what do you think?” He asked and she bit her lip.

“I told Riley we kissed…he told me not to call him.” She said and he frowned.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” She said softly and he glanced up into her eyes with a gleam of hope, “I’ve been in love with you this whole time. Waiting for you. I want us back. I-if you’ll still have me.” She offered a hopeful smile and he grabbed her face and leaned in to kiss her.

“Course I’ll have you.” He hummed with a smile, “You’re the love of my life.” He said softly and she smiled against his lips.

“And you’re the light of my life.”

As always, all feedback is appreciated!

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whumpsoda · 9 days

Text

Seeing Me in You - A Real Name

Masterlist

cw: pet whump, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, Institutionalized slavery, conditioned whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker,

——————

“You been thinking about names?” Isaac asked, flopping down on the couch. Smiling, her hands folded over each other casually in her lap as she gazed expectantly to her pet.

“Yes, ma’am.” He replied with the softest of a nod. She had ordered him days before to come up with names for himself, a strange request. A master would want to be the one to name their pet, would they not? Weren’t those the rules?

“Got any in mind? Any you like?”

“No, ma’am.”

Her face dropped a smidge in disappointment, churning a quease in his belly, before she jumped back to her feet. “Give me just one second.” Stepping to the short shelf pushed against the opposite wall, she studied the titles intently, before pulling one out with excitement.

“Here’s some names. A whole book of ‘em.” Isaac announced, flipping to the first page of the thick book, filled to the brim with them, “Edith uses this one all the time, and pretty much all’ve our rescues pick one from in here. I’ll read some out to you, and maybe you’ll hear one you like.”

She recited each and every one in the order they were listed in, looking to him after each name. It was almost as if she wanted his approval, such a foreign concept that 253719 didn’t understand. Though, it was usual for him not to understand her, the other masters, or any of the out of line pets around him.

“Abraham? Arthur? Atticus?” She listed, turning to him with her tender, kind smile that meant even though things were weird, he wasn’t being bad.

“Whatever pleases you, Master.” He had merely replied after every look, the safe answer he held close to his heart. Nearly was he not even listening, mind wandering to emptiness as he kneeled on the rug beside her. But she continued still, not satisfied with it. With him.

Until one name.

“August?” She inquired, and he perked up, the lightest of a glimmer in his eye. He recognized August. Isaac chuckled, giving him a sweet pet to the head that he leaned eagerly into. “You like that one?”

He didn’t like it necessarily, a pet didn’t like, but his master did.

Fall was his master’s favorite season, where all of the magically vibrant colored leaves would fly through the chill turning air. The month of August fell during fall, right? He could have sworn it did.

252719 remembered his master repeating his statement of likeness every year as they sat together on the porch, 252719 kneeling beside him as he smoked. I just love fall, such a pleasant time, he would say, a rare smile strung over his lips. The foul smelling smoke would fill his pet’s nostrils, filling his lungs and tempting him to cough, but he wouldn’t. He was good enough to know not to.

And if his master so decided he wanted to utilize him for another purpose, one he wasn’t designed for but his master enjoyed, he would welcome the stinging burn of the cigarette digging a sizzling hole into his exposed flesh. He would whimper and whine pathetically with affliction, just as his master liked it.

252719 missed his master. He missed him so much it hurt, terribly so, tying suffocating knots all throughout his grief stricken body. Even the pain he inflicted the pet missed.

But they wouldn’t let him leave. Especially the one that was his new master who said she wasn’t but he knew she was. She said no running away, and so he couldn’t.

But he wanted to.

And wanting was weird and bad. He was not supposed to want, but he did and it kept him up at night, tossing and turning over memories of his master, over anxieties of this new place where everything is confusing and strange. How it was changing him and making him so very bad.

“Yes ma’am.” 252719 - no, August - mumbled, to her glee.

August. He had a name now. A real name. Not like the numbers his master called him by. He had a person name.

And August liked it.

…

The clothes were terribly uncomfortable. Not being used to having fabric layered over his skin he cringed, scrunching the soft lines of his plush face. 374629 was not ungrateful, never would he dare to be, he simply did not understand why his master had made him dress. He never had clothing beside a dingy pair of boxers in the facility, and was convinced he would not outside of it either. But there he was, anyway, adorned in his master’s clothing.

He was his master, right?

Me too.

374629 couldn’t help but wonder what he meant. Because of course his master couldn’t be a guard dog, let alone a boxie himself. Masters were people, not pets, and such things were not interchangeable, he knew that.

His master didn’t even act like a pet. No crawling, no mantras - except for, well, when he repeated his pet’s, but that was different, was it not? - no collar, no master, no pet.

His master was not a pet. He was sure that was not what he had meant, and a real pet like him should not have even been worrying about it. All he needed to worry about was keeping his master completely and absolutely safe.

So he forced his brain back into blank and utter emptiness once again, saving himself for the danger of any possible threat. He would keep himself vigilant like he was trained to be.

His master hummed as he cooked, with a sing-song voice creamy like butter that licked his ears with the hint of gravel. He twirled the spoon around the pot, sticky with hot mac and cheese that took over the air of the apartment.

374629 had never had macaroni before, only the gray slop his handler had plopped into his dog bowl at least once a day. He held no hope for the chance of receiving any, knowing his place well.

So when his master, still humming loud and clear, placed a large, human sized bowl of macaroni before him, 374629 didn’t know what to do. He knew he wasn’t supposed to eat it, that was for sure. So he waited.

His master plopped down at the table beside him with his own bowl, steaming the same as his. “That’s for you, okay? I want you to eat as much as you feel you can, if, um, that’s okay.”

Oh.

Maybe… maybe it was for him.

And so he ate. Warily at first, waiting for a kick to the face as he descended his mouth to the height of the food, ass up and hands on the wood. Position five. It never came.

But was his meal delicious.

He’d never tasted anything so good in his life, so wonderful he could never believe he was deserving of it. It spread a cozy warmth of magic through his mouth, not enough to burn but enough to have him melting in a puddle on the floor. Tastebuds sparkling with excitement he plunged back in for more, scooping up pieces vigorously with his tongue and allowing them to dance through his mouth as he chewed.

“So” his master started, pulling him away from the heaven that was his dinner, “Got any name ideas? It can be anything.”

Oh, he was so bad. Had he missed an order? Was he supposed to have been doing so?

“N- no, sir.” He didn’t even want to dare think about a name for himself. His name was for his master to decide, it was the rules. He couldn’t disobey, but was he really, when his master wanted it? 374629 swallowed another mouthful of cheese dripping noodles, mouth dribbling with sticky remains that pooled at his chin.

“That’s okay.” His master told him, although he knew he didn’t mean it. Nothing was okay when your pet was too stupid for you. “I wish… I had Edith’s book with me… I guess we’ll just have to think about it for a bit. Just let me know if anything comes to mind, um, that you like.”

He could… do that. Did he know any names? He didn’t even have one himself.

He knew… he knew His handler’s name. His first, not just his last, even if he wasn’t really supposed to. Of course he had never called him by it, only Handler Parker, but he’d heard it before.

Hey, Simon, I guess you’ve finally gotten this one under your control.

He missed his handler, he supposed. Missed the strict order and absence of confusion. With his handler he knew exactly what to do and what not, and now it felt like he was all alone with his training. Really, he was.

Handler Simon Parker.

“Simon?” He shifted up to his master, eyes falling wide, “Is that what you said?”

Had he-

He’d said that out loud-

“That’s a nice one. It fits you. I like it.” His master said, lips upturning to a grin. He looked excited, almost, and terribly pleased. “Do you like it?”

He hadn’t really-

But he did, and his master liked it. 374629 was going to be sick, stomach curling in knots as burning bile bubbled in his belly.

His lips carefully parted, quivering as his fists clenched, uncut nails burrowing into the flesh of his palm. “What- whatever pleases you, Master.” He choked out, words tinged with the rasp of shock as he turned his gaze back to the floor.

“I really like that. I think it’s settled then.” His master giggled, sweet and bubbly that failed to calm his pet’s horrified heart. “Welcome to the family, um, Simon.”

——————

Isaac is from a different connected bbu story I just posted earlier today if you want to check that out here :)

———

Masterlist

Taglist- @softvampirewhump @3-2-whump @taterswhump @fefe658 @whumped-by-glitter

@pigeonwhumps @whumpinthepot @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @tippytappytyping @ivymyers

@octopus-reactivated @loserwithsyle @snakebites-and-ink @itsawhumpsideblog @otterfrost

@parasiticwhumpee @starrysky888 @isntthisblank

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

#Whump #whumpblr #whump story #writing #my writing #whump writing #Seeing me in you #August oc #Simon oc #box boy whump #box boy universe #bbu #box boy #Pet whump #institutionalized slavery #conditioned whumpee

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limeandlightonwater · 2 years

Text

people like us

pairing: steve harrington / eddie munson summary: Five times Amanda Driscoll hears about Mr. Harrington’s wife and the One time she realizes it’s his husband. warnings: some angst in #4 and a slight coming out (to herself) arc, hinted at homophobia (nothing explicit) word count: 7.5k a/n: (10/18/2023): a little after a year from the original post date, i decided to go back and edit it. it's still the same story any rereaders know, but all the little plot holes and issues have been fixed and there's 200 more words to read! thank you for reading <3

(og note): this is based off of this post i made! i will be doing a second part to this that follows eddie's bandmates and meeting steve! i hope you enjoy and any feedback, likes, reblogs, comments, ask, are all appreciated!

Read it on AO3

taglist: @zed-zeppeli @valenschmidt @expectocrucio @rel312 @jonathanbyersbbg @beeing-stuupid @ataztuv @noahzanehethey @ludabug @mavernanche @casualherolightbailiff @purplebellybell @phenomenal-bird @persephone13 @gleefully-macabre @darkqloszed @the-baby-goblin @aryanightshade @jojobeaner @specialagentslut-24 @goodomensgurl

1. Monday, August 21st, 1995

Amanda was not one to be late, especially on the first day of school. Her steps echoed in the empty hallway as she rushed to her first period class. In one hand she held a tardy slip. In the other was a ripped piece of notebook paper detailing her homeroom class in smudged blue ink.

Mr. Harrington

U.S. History

Room 114

Having lived in Hawkins her whole life, she’d been attending the same middle school her older sister and both parents attended. This made her rather familiar with the staff at Hawkins Middle and yet she hadn’t recognized Mr. Harrington’s name. Reaching her classroom, she grabbed the handle and pushed it open.

All the desks were arranged in groups of four and there were four groups. Hanging from the ceiling, were pieces of laminated paper designating each desk group a number. The walls were covered in different iconic historical quotes, maps of the worlds, and black and white photos of people Amanda assumed were important. On her teacher’s desk was a small globe, a pencil cup, and a clay pot full of various origamis. Her teacher was leaning against his desk, in the middle of a speech when he was interrupted by the squeak of the door being opened. All eyes landed on Amanda and she squirmed under her peers' watchful gaze. She walked shyly over to Mr. Harrington and handed him her pass.

“Ah, Amanda! Welcome to U.S. History. Uh, here! Grab a syllabus and there’s a free seat at table two! I’m just telling the class a bit about myself.” He smiled politely at her, and motioned toward table two. At table two, Mary and Lj were sitting on the same side, facing the windows, so Amanda chose the seat across from Lj. She quietly sat her stuff down and paid attention to what her teacher was saying.

“Like I was saying, I was born and raised in Hawkins. I walked these very same halls you did once before! It’s actually where I met my current partner, I just didn’t know it at the time. I started at Ivy Tech college before I transferred to Indiana State Teachers College to get my degree. I lived in Chicago with my spouse for a few years and taught at the local high school, before we moved back this past summer to take care of their dad and here we are! I’m also the coach for the basketball team so information about try-outs will go up soon. Now, enough about me. If you’d take a look at your syllabus…”

Mr. Harrington’s voice faded into ambient noise in the background as she looked around her classroom. He’d met his wife right here in this building, and he didn’t even know it at the time. The person Amanda would marry could be sitting right in front of her and she’d never know until she was finally with them. She glanced around and her eyes landed on Louise-Jane Brooks, or Lj as she was typically called. Amanda immediately looked away, a fierce blush painting her cheeks the same color as her hair. That happened almost every time she looked at Lj. How weird is it that someone she’s known since kindergarten made her so nervous? The sun fitted itself through the blinds behind Amanda and illuminated Lj, like she had her own personal spotlight shining down on her. Brown skin, long braids, deep dark eyes turned to honey, and freckles left over from summer time glittered underneath the light and it stirred up something within Amanda that her mind had trouble reconciling with.

“Any questions?” Mr. Harrington’s voice cut through the Lj related fog in Amanda’s mind and her hand immediately shot up.

“You said you met your wife in middle school. How did you know she was the one?” Amanda forced her eyes to stay on Mr. Harrington despite the strange urge to look back at Lj.

“Well I didn’t know I’d marry them in middle school. I didn’t know that I’d marry them until way after college. We met in middle school. We were desk partners in our science class and they taught me how to make origami out of our homework sheets.” He picked up the little clay pot on his desk and pulled out what looked like a pencil. “They made me this little pencil for my first day teaching here.” He returned the origami pencil and the clay pot back to their spot on his desk and looked back out toward his students. “Are there any other questions?...No? Alright we’re gonna head down to the library and grab your textbooks so line up!”

A symphony of chairs screeching against the ground and whispering voices erupted as the students lined up by the door. Much to the delight of Amanda, Lj ended up in front of her. Lj was wearing a baby pink dress with white polka dots and white flats. Amanda tapped Lj’s shoulder and waited for her to turn. She turned and Amanda had to ignore the warmth in her cheeks as she spoke.

“I like your dress!” Lj’s smile grew in response to Amanda’s compliment.

“Thank you, Amy. It has pockets!” and she stuck her hands into the pockets of the dress to show them to Amanda. Amanda went to say something but the line had started to move so she kept her response to herself.

2. Friday, September 15th, 1995

In the weeks that passed, Amanda found herself looking forward to her first period class more and more. Mr. Harrington made learning about history much more fun than her previous teachers had. Though they had to check out the textbooks in the library provided by the state, Mr. Harrington told them to stack them along the window sill and they sat there everyday, untouched. In class, he told them the real history and explained what actually happened, what the textbooks glossed over or lied about. Instead of reading page after page in their textbooks they got to do fun projects creating poster boards, making dioramas, and even creating their own political cartoons.

Amanda has also been early everyday. She was sitting in her regular seat waiting for class to start, when two boys walked in, talking excitedly about some band she’d never heard of.

“Did you hear about the first Corroded Coffin show last night in Indianapolis? Apparently people were camping outside the venue for 2 nights to try and score tickets! I want to see them on tour so bad!” Mr. Harrington peaked his head up from the paper he was writing on and joined the boys’ conversation.

“You guys like Corroded Coffin? I know those guys, we all went to high school together.” Mr. Harrington said. He looked off to the side, brows furrowed as he thought about something. “Maybe I can ask them to come for career day in October?”

The two boys gasped excitedly and started asking their teachers questions about the band and how he met them. Mary, who sat diagonally across from Amanda, sighed. Amanda watched, Mary, who had her head in her hands, gazing dreamily at Mr. Harrington.

“Isn’t he just so handsome, Amanda?” Mary said, turning to look at her. Amanda wrinkled her nose in response. Sure, Mr. Harrington wasn’t ugly but she couldn’t see what it was about him that made all the girls trip over themselves. No matter if they were in the cafeteria during lunch or in the library for study hall, she was subject to hearing theories of what Mr. Harrington’s wife looked like, and whispers of ‘She’s so lucky’. Amanda didn’t get any of it. Still, she wanted to fit in, so she pretended. He wore the same style glasses that she did, so at least she could compliment him without lying. To herself or her classmates.

“Um, I like his glasses.” She replied. Avoiding Mary’s piercing gaze, she decided pulling her pencil bag out was a smart move.

“I don’t know, Amy,” Lj said, looking up from her book. “I think Miss. Rosario is prettier than Mr. Harrington. She would never come to school with her shirt so wrinkled.” Lj glanced at Mr. Harrington once more before going back to her book. Mary flipped her long, blonde hair over her shoulder, before she raised her hand. Next to her, Amanda’s eyes were glued to Lj. Miss Rosario was pretty. Super pretty. If everyone was talking about that, she’d understand one hundred percent. She forced herself to look away when Mr. Harrington started speaking.

“Yes, Mary?”

“You don’t normally come to school with your shirt so wrinkled. Why today?” She asked. Mr. Harrington looked down at his shirt and inspected the wrinkles and huffed. He was wearing a plain blue and white striped polo, and jeans since it was a friday.

“Thank you…for pointing that out, Mary. For your information, normally my partner irons my shirts every morning while I make breakfast, but they’ll be away for the next month on a work trip, and I was in a rush and forgot to do it.” He walked back around behind his desk and grabbed the hawkins middle hoodie that was hanging on the back of his desk chair and put it on. “There, Now no one can see the wrinkles.” He raised his eyebrows, as if to say ‘is this okay’ and Mary nodded as she giggled

“Why does your wife always iron your shirts? Why don’t you iron your own shirts and she makes breakfast?” Janet asked.

“Well, Janet, if you must know, they like to pick out my clothes, and I’m the only one who can cook so it just works out.” Mr. Harrington replied. A few awws came from the crowd and he waved them away. “Yes, it’s all very sweet and domestic and all that jazz. Now, who can tell me where we left off yesterday.”

3. Tuesday, October 3rd, 1995

“Yo, Mr. H, what’s that thing on your nose?” It was right before class began, and Mr. Harrington had just turned around from writing their new essay prompt on the board. Right in the center of his face was a scratch, from the bridge of his nose to underneath his eye. Amanda was by the door, sharpening her pencil for the lesson.

“Well Good Morning to you too, Gerald. That thing on my nose is a scratch. My partner came home for the weekend and we ended up adopting some kittens last night. Three of them actually, so in the whole mess of transporting 3 kittens back to our home…” He gestured to his face and then shrugged.

“What did you name the kittens?” A voice said from the back.

“Sabbath, Kirk, and Abba.” His lips pursed, as if he was trying to suppress his smile.

“Why those names?” Amanda asked before she could stop herself. She recognized Abba because her older sister was always blasting it through her walkman, but the other two names were unfamiliar. She assumed they probably also had to do with music but she wasn't sure what they were references to.

“Well Sabbath and Kirk are nods to my partners favorite bands. The last cat was named Abba because I occasionally play them and my partner loves to tease me for it. Says I need to be introduced to ‘real music’.” Mr. Harrington had an exasperated look on his face, but you could hear the fondness in his voice as he talked about his partner. He glanced over at his origami pot, which Amanda noted now had a black cat added to it. She spun to walk back to her desk with her newly sharpened pencils when Lj walked into class, beating the bell by a few seconds and immediately caught Amanda’s attention.

“Woah, Amy! You wore your hair down today?” Lj said, and stopped when she saw the redhead by the door. Amanda typically kept her hair in a ponytail and her bangs neatly trimmed just above her eyebrows to keep her curls from falling into her face while she worked. Today though, she had a black and white striped headband settled behind her bangs, the rest of her curly hair falling down to her shoulders. “I really like it like this. You look extra pretty.” Lj offered her a small smile and made her way to her seat. Amanda's hand flew to her hair and her jaw fell open a bit, eyes tracking Lj’s movements as she walked away.

Lj thought she was extra pretty with her hair down. Extra. Like she always thought Amanda was pretty, but with her hair down…she was more, pretty. Additionally pretty. Especially pretty. Her gaze slowly left Lj and landed on Mr. Harrington who was watching her with an expression on his face that she couldn’t quite place. He shook his head in amusement and then pointed to her desk with his chin. It took her feet a few seconds to catch up with her brain and move, but she made it to her seat. As she sat down, Gerald called out to her teacher.

“Wait Mr. H, I’m confused. Why did y’all get 3 kitties in the first place?” Mr. Harrington sighed and ran a hand down his face, wincing when he made contact with the scratch.

“We couldn’t separate the siblings. Or, my partner didn’t want to separate them and…who am I to stop them. So we got three kittens.” His eyes widened like he still couldn’t believe it.

“Will you bring them in so we can meet them?” Kendra asked hopefully. Amanda knew she wanted to be a veterinarian so it made sense that she’d ask. That was the cool thing about going to school with the same kids all her life. She knew so many little things about them and what their aspirations were. Gerald was out of this world smart so he’d decided he would either be a lawyer or a doctor, whichever paid more. Mary wanted to be a famous actress, Janet loved science, and Lj was a writer like no other.

Amanda imagined hanging out with Lj in the future. Lj as a world famous journalist for the New York Times and Amanda working somewhere with numbers. They would both live in New York because Lj would want a friend there and they’ll live in the same apartment to save money and they’ll share a room because what if it’s lonely and she’ll get to wake up to Lj and fall asleep with Lj and grocery shop with Lj and

Amanda sat up straighter in her seat and shook her head as if to shake those thoughts out of her mind. She reminded herself to leave those types of thoughts to when she was alone and tuned back into the ongoing conversation.

“Sorry Kendra, can’t do that. I have a kid in my third and seventh period classes with allergies to fur.”

“What if your wife brings them, and then after this class period, she takes them back home?” Someone else suggested. Mr. Harrington chuckled to himself and dropped his head, letting it hang for a moment.

“That won’t be possible, they’re on a work trip, remember. Maybe I’ll bring a picture in so you all can see.” He offered, looking around to see if that would appease his students.

“But we want to see your wife! You’re always talking about her!” That comment came from Mary. Mr. Harrington laughed again and Amanda wondered what was so funny.

“Ok ok, I see what’s going on here. You’re trying to get me to talk about my personal life so we don’t start those essays today huh? Unluckily for you, I was a student once so I know all your tricks! Come on, let’s get class started.” A few tried to protest, but eventually they grabbed their notebooks and flipped to fresh pages.

As Amanda worked, her hair continued to fall into her face. She resisted the urge to tie it back into its signature ponytail, instead opting to tuck her hair behind her ear constantly. Louise-Jane Brooks thinks Amanda Driscoll is extra pretty with her hair down and Amanda decided it was normal to want another girl to think she’s pretty, so she kept her hair down.

4. Friday, October 13th, 1995

“Mr. Harrington, what was high school like for you?”

That day, the eighth grade class had a field trip to the high school now that their first marking period was nearly over. The class was pretty chatty now that they were back in their classroom waiting for the dismissal bell to ring. They were all standing around Mr. Harrington’s desk, a few sitting on the student desks behind them. They quieted down when they heard the question asked.

“I was pretty popular in high school, was co-captain of the swim team, fought some monsters, skipped prom, then I graduated and met the love of my life.” Mr. Harrington was staring upwards, like he was checking off an imaginary list in his mind. Immediately, a gaggle of questions were shouted out at him. His eyes widened in shock and he put his hands up in surrender. “Woahhh guys, one a time, let me see some hands. McKenzie, what’s your question?”

“I thought you met your wife in middle school?” A few ‘yeah’s came from the group as they recalled what Mr. Harrington told them on the first day of class.

“That is technically right. I did meet them in middle school and we were friends for that science class we shared. Then we drifted apart until after I graduated. We reconnected during the whole fighting monsters thing after high school and ever since then it’s been me and them.”

“What do you mean by fighting monsters?” Another person asked. Mr. Harrington only shrugged. His arms, which were hanging down by his sides, wrapped around his stomach. “Whatever you think it means, Kevin.”

“He’s probably talking about some game or movie,” Someone commented from the back of the group to their friend. Mr. Harrington didn’t acknowledge them, only staring out the window. The kids begin to break off into separate conversation when the bell rings to dismiss for the day.

“Hey Amy,” Lj said, approaching her as the crowd started to disperse and leave Amanda, Lj, and their teacher behind. Mr. Harrington yelled out a ‘See you tomorrow and made good decisions!’ as he sat back behind his desk. The two girls were standing in the aisle between table one and table two, a few feet from the front of Mr. Harrington’s desk. She noticed her teacher start to look for something on his desk.

“I’m surprised you’re still here, normally you're first out the door.” She commented. Amanda smiled at the thought of Lj paying that much attention to her.

“I have Chess Club afterschool today so my mom will get me at four. I don’t have to catch the bus.” Lj hummed in acknowledgement before speaking again.

“So…I just moved to a new house, and I finally finished decorating my room. If it’s okay with your mom, my mom said I could invite people over now.” Lj had a delicate smile on her face as her fingers played with the hem of her t-shirt before being stuffed into the pockets of her jeans.

“Um, yeah of course! I’d love to! How do I tell you if my mom said it’s ok?” Amanda said, smiling so widely she knew her cheeks would ache later.

“Uhhhh,” Lj looked around, before taking a few steps and grabbing a marker out of Mr. Harrington’s pencil cup. Amanda trailed behind her. Lj grabbed Amanda’s arm and wrote down a series of numbers on her forearm. Amanda could see that Mr. Harrington was now fumbling for something within his desk. Lj let her hand fall from Amanda’s forearms to her hand.

“There. That’s my home phone number, just call me when you ask your mom! I hope she says yes. I got this jewelry making kit so we can like, make bracelets and stuff! Bye, Amy! Call me! Even if you can't come over!” Lj squeezed Amanda’s hand before letting go and walking out the classroom.

Amanda was rooted in her spot, the path LJ’s fingers took burned into her skin. Having feelings for Lj had gone from manageable to completely unbearable from that one interaction. How was she supposed to walk around everyday not aching to touch her again? To feel the weight of Lj’s hand in hers and have her small, kind, infectious smile directed at Amanda. Her fingers traced the numbers on her arm as she reimagined her Saturday plans. She was shaken from her daydream when a throat cleared. Her head snapped to the source of the noise, and she met eyes with Mr. Harrington. Realizing he watched that entire interaction, her smile dropped. She knew exactly what he was thinking. It was the same things her parents whispered in the kitchen when they thought she was asleep in the living room.

“That wasn’t what it looked like. I don’t have a crush on Lj.” Mr. Harrington only raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips.

“I…I didn’t say you did.” He replied.

Amanda’s cheeks burned a deep red as she realized he didn’t say that. He didn’t say anything. She assumed she knew what he was thinking and just dug herself into a hole. She looked away embarrassed, feeling the burn of restrained tears behind her eyes. She’d just come to terms herself with what those feelings inside her meant. She wasn’t ready to deal with what it meant to openly like girls. But now she’d have to, Mr. Harrington was going to tell her mom.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” She whispered, looking away when a few tears fell. Mr. Harrington’s eyes widened in shock. He jumped up from his desk, walked around to the front, and kneeled in front of Amanda.

“Hey, hey, hey don't cry. I won’t tell anyone anything you don’t want me to. There’s nothing for me to tell, Amanda. Promise.” He reassured, his hands flailing about in front of him as he spoke. He offered a comforting squeeze on the shoulder before shifting to sit criss-cross in front of his desk, using it to lean on.

Amanda watched Mr. Harrington as he sat on the floor and made himself comfortable. He looked up at Amanda and patted the spot next to him. She sat down with him, legs stretched into the aisle in front of them and her back pressed up against Mr. Harrington’s desk. She took her glasses off and wiped her eyes, and Mr. Harrington pushed his glasses into his hair and began to speak.

“If I may ask, what is it… that I'm not telling?” He asked, voice gentle.

“I don’t think you’d understand.” She said, voice shaky with unshed tears.

“Maybe…maybe not. But you never know unless you tell me. If you want to, of course.” He said as he watched Amanda carefully.

“How do you feel about your wife?” She asked him, finger aimlessly prodding at the linoleum floors.

“My partner is the best gift that I could have ever been given. They’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid my eyes on. The kindest, most compassionate, and genuine person I know. And they’re hilarious, they make me laugh like never before. I used to dread going home, but now that they’re there, I can’t wait to get back to them everyday. Everything leads back to them, and I’m never not thinking about them, or missing them, or loving them. They are the center of my universe and every planet surrounding it.”

The two sat in silence for a moment after. Amanda wondered what it would be like to love a girl so fully. To love a girl so much that her mere presence made the stars shine brighter and air seem crisper. To love a girl, and be free to tell anyone who asked.

“I want,” she started. “I want to be allowed to feel that way about a girl.” Amanda nearly whispered the end of her sentence, the force of hearing her voice admit that out loud for the first time knocked the air out of her.

“You are allowed to feel that way about a girl.” Mr. Harrington said, shifting to face Amanda better. She turned to look at him, red rimmed eyes meeting earnest ones. “My best friend and her wife moved to San Francisco so that they could. They’re much more open minded out there. When I lived in Chicago, you heard about people like us out there way more than you did here in Hawkins.” Amanda’s brows knitted in confusion.

“People like us?” She asked. Mr. Harrington nodded.

“People like us,” He confirmed. Amanda let the weight of both their confessions settle in the air. Other people felt this way. Mr. Harrington did. And so did his best friend and her wife. And the people in San Francisco and in Chicago. She wasn’t the only person who felt. Amanda let her worries be temporarily soothed by the comfort of knowing she wasn’t a freak or a mistake. She wiped her eyes again, put her glasses back on, and pushed herself off the floor. She looked up at the clock which read 3:12. Chess Club started in three minutes.

“I have to go, I don’t want to be late…but thank you, Mr. Harrington.” Amanda said, voice quiet.

“Anytime, Amanda. My door is always open.” And she didn’t doubt that. Not many people in Hawkins knew how she felt, but Mr. Harrington did and that was more than she thought.

5. Monday, October 15th, 1995

When Amanda walked into her homeroom class the following day, the first thing she noticed was the new poster up by the chalkboard. It was a plain beige rectangle with rainbow patterned letters, spelling out “YOU ARE SAFE HERE.” Amanda’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes immediately searched for Mr. Harrington, but he was busy talking to one of her classmates. She walked to her seat, reveling in the warmth that grew in her chest from how nice it was to be cared for like this.

As Amanda placed her arm on her desk, she felt the delicious bite of the gems on her bracelet sink into the skin of her wrist. She lifted her wrist to inspect the new jewelry she made with Lj. There were pink, orange, and red beads patterned on her bracelet, while Lj’s had a pink, blue, and purple pattern. Both bracelets however, had “LJ&AMY”. Her right hand came up and she ran her fingers over the beads, and smiled fondly as she remembered her weekend with Lj. Memories of bracelet making, pizza, karaoke, and sharing a banana split sundae filled her mind. Amanda looked ahead of her and saw that Lj was already staring at her. She smiled at her and waved shyly. Lj giggled and waved back.

“I like your bracelet,” She said, smiling back at Amanda. Amanda stuck her hand wrist out proudly to show off the bracelet Lj helped her make.

“Why thank you, it’s custom made, one of a kind,” She laughed again, but was interrupted by one of her classmates yelling over the chatter in the classroom.

“How was your weekend, Mr. H,” Gerald asked.

“It was pretty good. I went down to Lovers Lake with my partner and they had a picnic set up. It was very sweet. They even made me a flower crown by hand. We also saw some of our friends from back in the day.” He responded.

“Wow, Mr. H, your wife sounds mad sweet.” Gerald responded, his fingers absentmindedly twirling one of his locs.

“Right,” Kendra piped in from the back corner. “Everytime you say something about her it’s always something so gentle. Like she taught you how to make origami, and she irons your clothes, made you adopt all those cats, now a picnic at Lovers’ Lake and a handmade flower crown? She’s like, the sweetest woman in the world.” Kendra said, recalling all the kind things Mr. Harrington’s partner did for him.

“I wish you guys paid this much attention to what I say when i’m teaching, how did you even remember all of that?” Kendra only shrugs and Mr. Harrington sighs. “Anyways, what about you guys, what did you get up to this weekend?” Immediately Lj’s hand went up and Mr. Harrington called on her. She reached her hand out to Amanda, who immediately clasped her fingers around Lj’s.

“Well Amy came over to my house and we did a bunch of fun stuff like go to the mall and get pizza, but we also made these matching bracelets.” Lj then stuck their conjoined hands in the air so their classmates could see the bracelets, even if it was a bit awkward with all that space between the two girls.

Amanda’s grin grew impossibly bigger and she looked at Mr. Harrington who raised his brows in pleasant surprise.

“That’s very nice girls, my partner and my best friend have a matching pair of purple converse that they decorated together actually. Janet, what about you? How was your weekend?” Mr. Harrington went on, letting his students tell him all about their weekend before they started class. Amanda couldn’t pay much attention to what her classmates were saying though, savoring every second Lj kept her in hand in Amanda’s.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of weird how Mr. Harrington never just says ‘my wife’?” Mary whispered to her tablemates. Amanda froze for a moment, considering Mary’s words. Lj squeezed Amanda’s hand before letting go and picking up her pencil to take notes since Mr. Harrington was now starting the lesson. Amanda didn’t follow her lead. Instead, she ran back every time Mr. Harrington brought up his wife.

“Then I lived in Chicago with my spouse for a few years…”

“...normally my partner irons my shirts every morning…”

“Everything leads back to them, and I’m never not thinking about them, or missing them, or loving them.”

Why didn’t Mr. Harrington just say ‘my wife’ instead of ‘my partner’? Why did he always say ‘they’ instead of ‘she’? Amanda’s mind reminded her of their conversation afterschool on friday.

“When I lived in Chicago, you heard about people like us way more than here in Hawkins.”

People like…us.

Her eyes darted to the new poster hanging up in their class. You are safe here. Her eyes drifted to Mr. Harrington as the realization dawned on her. Why Mr. Harrington was so specific about how he referred to his partner. Why he didn’t have a picture of them on his desk like her other teachers do.

Mr. Harrington…doesn’t have a wife. He has a husband.

+1. Tuesday, October 16th, 1995

It was career fair day so after lunch instead of heading to her algebra class, Amanda met up with Lj in front of the gym to browse all the different jobs that came to present that day. She almost tripped over her feet in excitement once she spotted Lj. She quickened her pace, nearly running over one of the 6th graders. The two girls embraced before linking arms as they walked into the gym together.

They stopped by the doctor table and the accounting table, and ran past the construction table giggling. They visited the journalism table so Lj could talk with the woman there. She had a short, curly bob and a name tag that read “Miss Wheeler”. Amanda looked around and spotted Mr. Harrington toward the back of the fair talking with another man with unruly, curly hair. The long haired man smiled at Mr. Harrington and knocked the educators shoulder with his own.

Amanda told Lj she would be right back and headed in their direction. Upon arriving, Mr. Harrington’s friend stepped away from him and approached Amanda. He was wearing a t-shirt that said “The Devil Was Once an Angel” and ripped black jeans. He had many rings on his fingers and various chains hanging off his belt loops. He had multiple tattoos all along his arms and stuck to the front of his chest was a name tag that read “Mr. Munson”.

Looking at his display, she saw a speaker, quietly playing metal music and a black and red electric guitar on a stand next to it. There were pictures of the long haired man on stage with 3 other guys and a notebook open with what looked like song lyrics. Next to the notebook, there were some tickets for a band called ‘Corroded Coffin’. Amanda racked her memory trying to remember why the name sounded familiar.

“Amanda!” Mr. Harrington greeted. He turned and faced Mr. Munson. “Mr. Munson, this is that student I told you about. Amanda, this is Eddie Munson, lead guitarist, lead vocals, and songwriter for his band.” Mr. Harrington looked at Eddie proudly, and placed a hand on each shoulder, in a weird sort of side hug.

“Thank you for that lovely introduction, Mr. Harrington,” Mr. Munson said, grinning widely. He then turned to Amanda. “What kind of music do you listen to, Red?” He had his hands clasped together, his two pointer fingers pressed against his lips.

“Uhh, I guess I listen to a lot of pop music. My older sister introduced me to someone called Madonna? I mainly listen to my sister's old tapes so whatever she has,” Amanda responded.

Mr. Munson gasped, dramatically clutching his hand to his chest where his heart would be.

“Oh you poor thing! You’re a lost little sheep, just like Stevie here. He only listens to whatever’s on the top 40. AKA, Not. Real. Music.” She giggled and Mr. Munson smiled at her in a way where she knew he was only teasing. Amanda could see Mr. Harrington roll his eyes but smile, as Mr. Munson grabbed the speaker that was on his table. He pulled it closer to the front of the table so she could hear the music playing better. Mr. Munson looked around quickly before whispering to Amanda. “You won’t tell anyone if this song says any bad words will you,” His questioning gaze turned into a devilish grin when Amanda smiled and shook her head. “I knew there was a reason you were his favorite” Her feet tapped in excitement as she glanced quickly to her teacher.

Mr. Munson turns the music up slightly and lets the heavy bass and electric guitar fill the air around them.

“That is my band's latest single, ‘Trials’. It’s about some stuff that your teacher and I went through back in high school.” He said.

“You guys knew each other in high school?” Amanda asked, bewildered. How did her polo-wearing, mr. popular, not a hair out of place history teacher become friends with a man so completely different from him?

“Well we knew of each other in high school, we were friends in middle school for a little while. We reconnected around this time of my senior year. 1986, can you believe that was 10 years ago, Stevie?” Where had she heard that before? Where did she know this man from? She can’t recall ever seeing him before, so why do his words sound so familiar? Amanda pushed those questions out of her head, and instead decided to ask him questions about his work since that is what he was there for.

“Do all the inspirations for your songs come from your life? How do you not run out of things to write about?” Amanda asked.

“What a wonderful question, Red. I do get a lot of inspiration from my real life. Take this weekend for example, Me and Mr. Harrington—or Mr.Harrington and I, Miss O’Donnell would kill me if she heard me say that.” Mr. Munson said that last part to Mr. Harrington before he turned back to Amanda. “Like I was saying, Stevie and I went out to the lake and afterwards we got to meet up with some of our old friends. I got some inspiration from that experience to write about reminiscing on good times. The song that just played for you right now, is also about the past but it’s about how the past changes us today. So while I may use the same base for songs,...”

Amanda started to lose focus as Mr. Munson explained his songwriting process. Mr. Harrington also said he was at Lovers’ Lake with his partner and that he met up with old friends this weekend. She understood them hanging out as old friends, they knew each other since middle school apparently. But how could Mr. Munson have been at Lovers’ Lake too?

Amanda looks at Mr. Harrington, opening her mouth to ask a question when she stops herself. Mr. Harrington. That’s who she’s heard this from before. She looked back at the tickets on the table. “Corroded Coffin” She realizes that’s the band he was talking about that one day. She runs her entire conversation with Mr. Munson back in her mind matching it to the things she heard Mr. Harrington say in class.

‘’The last cat was named Abba because I occasionally play them and my partner loves to tease me for it. Says I need to be introduced to ‘real music’”

“You’re a lost little sheep, just like Stevie here. He only listens to whatever’s on the top 40. AKA, Not. Real. Music.”

“We reconnected during the whole fighting monsters thing after high school.”

“We reconnected around this time of my senior year.”

“Stevie and I went out to the lake and afterwards we got to meet up with some of our old friends.”

“I went down to Lovers Lake with my partner…We also saw some of our friends from back in the day.”

Amanda looked away from the table, looking between both Mr. Munson and Mr. Harrington. Mr. Harrington was watching Mr. Munson as he explained something Amanda wasn't paying much attention to with rapt fascination. His eyes were soft and his smile was adoring. His arms were crossed casually across his chest and he leaned slightly toward Mr. Munson, like the musician had a magnetic pull on him.

Like Mr. Munson was the center of his universe.

Amanda gasped loudly, effectively cutting off Mr. Munson’s spiel and drawing attention from a few of the neighboring tables. They all turned away when Amanda’s face broke into a wide grin, assuming her gasp was from excitement. Both Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson were staring at Amanda with confusion on their faces.

“Are you…okay, Red?” Mr. Munson asked as he stepped backwards to inspect Amanda, consequently getting into Mr. Harrington’s personal space. Her history teacher didn’t budge when there were only a mere few inches separating them. She peeked around them, searching for Lj and finding her talking to Gerald in front of the lawyers table. She turned back to the two men in front of her and kept her voice low when she spoke.

“Mr. Harrington doesn’t have a wife,” She paused for dramatic effect, something she learned from Mary, and let the two men share a glance before looking back to her. “He has a husband.” She clapped her hands, excited by her discovery. It all made sense now. Realization washed over both Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson. They looked at each other, Mr. Munson pursing his lips to suppress a smile and Mr. Harrington with both hands on his hips and an exasperated look on his face.

“How did you piece that together from my presentation?” Mr. Munson asked, head tilted in amusement.

“It wasn’t your presentation, it was the stuff you said before you started talking about the music. Mr. Harrington talks about you all the time in class. The stuff you said right now matched up to what Mr. Harrington said before and all the signs, the poster, ‘People like us...It just clicked right now. What all that meant.” Amanda said, hands waving wildly in front of her. They froze mid-air when another realization washed over her. Her eyebrows knit up in confusion as she looked Mr. Munson over once more.

“You…with the tattoos, and the rings, and the chains, and the all black clothes…adopted three kittens? And you iron Mr. Harrington’s clothes every morning? And planned a picnic out on Lovers’ Lake? You taught Mr. Munson to make little origamis? Made him a flower crown? That was you? But you look so…” Amanda paused looking for the words. Mr. Munson glanced over his shoulder at Mr. Harrington with the widest grin she’d ever seen. “You look so, not the type.”

“I told you all those years ago, Stevie. Forced conformity. It’s killing the kids.” He turned back to Amanda. “It’s 1995 Little Red, people are so much more than their stereotypes.”

Amanda stared at Mr. Munson, soaking in all the new information, when another question popped in her mind.

“Wait. If you’re both boys, how did you get married?” She kept her voice low, so the other tables wouldn’t over hear her. Mr. Munson crouched down to Amanda’s level.

“Well, to the government, marriage is a piece of paper saying ‘This is who I chose!’. And tax benefits. We didn't need a piece of paper and a big fancy party, though we did have one, to say that we chose each other for life. I love him. And the government doesn’t get to tell me if that’s okay or not, it is okay.” Mr. Munson then looked up at Mr. Harrington from his spot on the floor. They shared a look, one that said a million more words than they’d be allowed in such a public place.

Amanda looked away from them, the connection between the two becoming almost suffocating. It was so surreal to be standing in front of two people who understood what she was going through. They went through it already and came out the other end. They were living breathing proof that it’s not always this hard, and it’s not always this confusing. That one day you’ll be able to wake up every morning next to the love of your life, no matter their gender. You’ll get to visit your favorite spots from your childhood as you grow old together. That we get a fancy wedding and the promise to be together forever too. They were proof that our fate isn’t subject to becoming a forgotten name in the newspaper for a case the police won’t try to solve. People like us, get to have our happily ever after, and Amanda was looking right at one. She couldn’t quite put into words what that meant to her.

On top of that, Mr. Munson wasn’t anything like she’d expected. Besides the fact that she was expecting a woman up until yesterday, he wasn’t anything like she expected for someone who presented themself like he did. He was kind and gentle while being loud and dramatic. He picked flowers for his husband with the same hands he used to shred electric guitar. He was unapologetically himself, even if that confused some people. Amanda looked forward to the day she could say the same about herself.

Mr. Harrington offered Mr. Munson a hand, and helped him off the floor when Lj approached the table.

“There you are Amy, I was wondering where you went,” Lj immediately reached for Amanda’s hand and interlocked their fingers, like she couldn't go another second without touching Amanda. Mr. Munson offered a small, knowing smile. “Are you done here? I heard the veterinary table is giving out cookies shaped like dinosaurs!”

Amanda looked away from Lj and back up at Mr. Munson and Mr. Harrington.

“After the promotion ceremony, and we’re officially high schoolers…am I still allowed to come back and say hi?” Amanda asked. Sure, it was only October but Mr. Harrington had already changed her life in such an irrevocable way. When she gets her first girlfriend or when she moves away to find people who are like her, it’ll be because Mr. Harrington was the first person who told her that it was okay and that she wasn’t alone.

“Of course, Amanda. Come back anytime! I’d love to hear about how high school goes for you. Even beyond that!” Mr. Harrington said. They shared a smile, and she let Lj pull her away.

“So you talk about me in class all the time, huh?” Mr. Munson teased as Amanda walked away.

“Go back on tour,” was her teacher's reply.

—

I don't know if i really have the words to explain what this fic means to me and how cathartic it was to write. Thank you for reading <3

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #steddie fic #steve/eddie #steve x eddie #steddie stranger things #st #plu #100 #1k #oc #ducky writes

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soberscientistlife · 4 months

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It’s one of America’s most famous icons, and for over a century, it has welcomed millions of immigrants seeking a better life. It is the Statue of Liberty. Gracing New York Harbor with her torch, crown and tablet, but unbeknownst to many Americans, Lady Liberty was originally designed to celebrate the end of slavery, and not the arrival of immigrants. Ellis Island, the inspection station through which millions of immigrants passed, didn’t open until 1892, six years after the statue was unveiled in 1886. The plaque with the famous Emma Lazarus poem — “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free” — wasn’t added until 1903. The monument, which draws 4.5 million visitors a year, was first imagined by French abolitionist Édouard de Laboulaye. Laboulaye loved America, and he loved it even more when slavery was abolished. He wanted to create some kind of commemorative gift that would recognize the importance of the liberation of the slaves. Laboulaye enlisted sculptor Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi, whose early model from 1870, shows Lady Liberty with her right arm in the position we are familiar with, raised and illuminating the world with a torch, but in her left hand she held broken shackles, an homage to the end of slavery. A terra cotta model of which still exists today at the Museum of the City of New York. Due to delays and funding, construction had stopped, and meanwhile in America, Reconstruction had been crushed, the Supreme Court had rolled back civil rights protections, and Jim Crow laws were tightening their grip. In order to finish the project, Bartholdi had to change the design in an attempt to attract more donors. Bartholdi didn’t finish building the statue until 1884, and he oversaw its reconstruction in New York, until it was finally unveiled on Oct. 28, 1886. The final product had Lady Liberty holding a tablet inscribed with the Roman numerals for July 4, 1776. Despite that change, the broken chains are still present, however they lay at her feet. By 1886, the original meaning of the monument, the abolition of slavery, had been lost.

#black history month

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thehighpriestess1 · 1 year

Text

August : 13

Summary : Y/n learns more about Gojo's past as she tries to fix what had been broken. A ghost from the past comes to haunt Gojo.

Pairing : Gojo x y/n

Genre : smut, angst, fluff. 18+ only!

Warning : mentions of blood, death, physical and mental abuse. Extreme smut. Curse words. MDNI!

Masterlist : Previous

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Blood..there was so much of it. It was in your hands. On your dress. On your palms. Pooled at the bottom of your feet. But who was hurt? You couldn’t see. The smoke was too thick and your eyes burnt from it. There was a fire. You knew there was one even if you couldn’t see it. Somewhere in the dense gray fog someone called for help, a familiar voice, You coughed and covered your mouth. You stumbled forward and tried to hold onto something, anything. The room was familiar. The place was familiar. The golden pillars and velvet curtains, you had seen it all before. But where? You turned around and tried to call out but your throat was filled with dense smoke. You rested your palm flat against the white wall and walked forward smearing a red streak on the wall. Someone was hurt, someone close to you, someone you wanted to save. But who? As you got out of one room and entered another, you saw him, standing in the middle of the room. A faint apologetic smile on his face. His crisp white shirt now stained with the same red that covered your hands. You struggled to breathe and stumbled forward to stand in front of him. His eyes red with smoke looked into yours begging for forgiveness. His pale skin flushed and scarred. His arctic hair that swayed everytime he walked was now matted against his head.

“Satoru…”. You whispered, mustering up every breath in your lungs.

“Y/n..”.

Your eyes darted down to his torso where the red spread, “No..no..”. You muttered to yourself.

“I’m sorry, love”.

“Don’t..no..you can’t”. You tried to press against the wound. “...can’t leave me..no..stay..please”.

“Next..next life..I..I’ll wait for you”. He said, softly, with all the gentleness of this cruel world. Then he closed his eyes.

Your eyes shot open and the first thing you saw was the dark ceiling of the bedroom. For a few moments you couldn’t move. You were sweating, crying, heaving. You raised your hands in front of your face and sighed when you found them clean. It was a dream. You turned your head slowly to your left and saw Gojo sleeping with his mouth slightly open. His one arm lay lazily over you and he was clean too. It was a nightmare. It should have calmed your nerves but it didn’t. Your heartbeat picked up once again and the tears started streaming down your face. You got out of the bed gently lifting Gojo’s hand and made your way to the balcony.

The fresh air brought some relief. But your heart felt heavy. Why would you have a dream like that about Gojo? You didn’t want him to die. You didn’t want to hurt him. You didn’t hate him. Then why? You felt guilty. Did you kill Gojo in your dream? Who did? With each passing second the details of the dream were getting blurry. You gripped the marble railing tightly and shut your eyes. Why? Why did he die in your dream? You bit your lip to not make a noise as you let the tears fall onto the railing. For the longest time you kept counting forward and backward to ten. But nothing helped. You tried to think of things around you, feel the cold marble under your palms, you tried to ground yourself into reality and shake away that omen of a nightmare. In you stressed, sad, state you realized that only he could fix it. Only he could help you come back to reality. Should I wake him up? You thought to yourself, no. What will you even say? That you killed him in your dream? Maybe you wanted him to die? No. He cannot know.

“Y/n?”.

You opened your eyes immediately as you recognized the voice. You wiped your face with your hands and took a deep breath before turning around. “Hey”. You spoke meekly, looking at your reflection in the glass behind him. Your eyes slowly went to his torso, his white night shirt was crumpled but clean.

“What..”. Gojo couldn’t think of words. The look on your face was enough of an answer for him.

Your heart still felt heavy and before Gojo could ask anything you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. You needed this. You needed to hold him. To remind yourself that he was here. You buried your face in his chest and took a deep breath, taking in all of him.

Gojo didn’t know for how long you had been here. All he knew was that he opened his eyes and the spot next to him was empty and for a few brutal moments his worst nightmare seemed like a possibility. You were not really here. But fortunately the crib next to your side of the bed reminded him that you were here, just not next to him. Which seemed even worse. He got out of bed and ran to the bathroom to look for you but found it empty, then the silver silhouette of your night dress caught his eyes.

Gojo’s one arm snaked around your waist and the other gently rubbed the back of your head. “It’s alright love. Everything is fine”.

You nodded but didn’t let go. You needed another minute or two or maybe a lifetime or two with him. Gojo frowned when your arms tightened around him. You definitely had another nightmare. But what triggered it? Did he do something? Or someone else did? Or was it simply the past haunting you? He continued to rub the back of your head and let you sob in his arms. He was going to get to whoever or whatever made you cry.

He could feel your body tremble with fright in his arms and he closed his eyes and held you with all his life. Like he was trying to absorb all of your pain and nightmares. He would rather it be him waking up in cold sweats than you. He had been here, in the same situation, he knew how it felt, how helpless and lost it felt, he hated that you had to go through it.

Only when he felt your body relax did he loosen his hold. He looked around the lawn over your head, scanning for any potential threats, anyone who would try to take advantage of you in your vulnerable moment. He relaxed when he found no one and looked down at you, still holding him with your life. Now your skin had started to feel cold and Gojo got worried that maybe staying out for too long in this weather was not the best idea.

“You ready to go in?”. He asked in a hushed tone.

You couldn’t speak but you nodded your head. Gojo smiled and scooped you in his arms. Under any other circumstances you would have resisted but now you snuggled against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. You didn’t say anything when Gojo kept you softly on the bed like you were made of glass. You didn’t say anything when he handed you a glass of water. You didn’t say anything when you lay under the covers. You didn’t say anything when Gojo slipped under the covers and looked at you. He didn’t demand an answer or an explanation. His question was evident from the look in his eyes, Are you okay?

You didn’t have it in you to give him false reassurance right now. “Satoru..”.

“Yes?”. Gojo intertwined his hand with yours.

Gojo chuckled, “Are you okay?”. You asked.

“I should be the one asking that”.

“Please..tell me. Are you happy? And healthy?”.

Gojo hummed in contemplation. “I am the happiest I have ever been. Healthiest too”. He smiled widely.

“I am serious right now”. You warned.

“I am too. You make me the happiest person in this world. You and our son”.

You nodded your head in response and looked down at the space between the two of you. “Just..stay safe…for me..and Keisuke”.

Gojo frowned. “Is everything o-”

“Please! Just promise me!”. You cut him off. You looked at him, pleading.

Gojo pulled you into him, “I promise I will stay safe for you and Keisuke”.

“Thank you”.

Those three words that Gojo longed to hear, lay idly on your lips. So close to falling out. So close to being buried forever. But Gojo didn’t know that. All he knew was that you were scared and he was angry. Though you hid it well, the shiver in your body the moment you wrapped your arms around him told him everything he needed to know. You were scared because you didn’t feel safe. He failed to make you feel safe, he failed to give you the sense of security you needed. As you drifted to sleep once again, Gojo lay awake. Protecting you. Holding you. So that if you wake up again, he will be there. If anyone comes for you, he will be there.

-X-

It had been two days since the nightmare. Gojo, fortunately, didn't bring it up and neither did you. But His behavior shifted just a little. Like he knew something was troubling you, like he was in on your little secret. He came home to you earlier than usual. He spent extra time with you in the morning and before going to bed. He joined you on your evening walks with Keisuke. On these walks the two of you would hold hands, look at each other with love, talk about everything under the sun, you'd roll your eyes at his jokes and he would fake gasp at your sarcastic comments. Yet there were things about him that lay buried securely under the happy exterior. He was happy, he assured you. He was not just pretending to be a good father and a husband but he was genuinely a good one. But there was this feeling inside you that maybe you didn’t know the whole of him. He showed you the light side but you wanted more. You wanted to dive into his past and understand the root cause of his anxiety. You wanted to know what made him weak, what made him vulnerable, what made him human and not the god everyone treats him to be.

Jerry had been busy after your last conversation with him and you have been keeping an eye out for any free time you could get with him. The sensitive nature of your conversation with him demanded long hours and secluded places. Sure everyone in the house was a trusted person but not everyone knew what you needed to know. When Keisuke was asleep in the afternoon you would leave and explore the grounds of the estate on your own. There were rooms that had been locked for years and no one had the keys. There were wings that were forbidden for everyone except Gojo. You were sure that if you'd ask Gojo he would give you a convincing excuse for which you would not have a reply. But you didn't want a convincing excuse, you wanted to know the truth.

Then there was Hiro. You felt like you were running out of time. There was so much going on in your head. Gojo’s past, Hiro, the forbidden wings, locked door, one month time limit. You didn’t know what to prioritize.

You were awake now, you could hear Gojo talking and Keisuke giggling, you opened your eyes slowly to see Gojo walking back and forth with Keisuke in his arms. But the scene that should have made your heart swell gave you butterflies. A whole garden of them. Gojo, who was usually in his PJs at this time of the morning was now in black track pants that hung low with his upper body bared to your sleepy eyes. You could see every muscle from his broad shoulders to this tapering back. You let out a shuddered breath when he turned around and you saw just how buffed your husband was. You wondered if this happened overnight or you didn’t notice before? But how could you not notice that you had been going to bed with this adonis of a man?

“Look! Mama’s up!”. Gojo squeaked when he saw you staring at them.

You shook away your thoughts and smiled. You tied your hair up and walked towards the two of them. Keisuke saw you and stretched his hands out to indicate that he needed a change of parent. You chuckled and took him in your arms and cuddled him. You were getting used to sleeping without him next to you but every time you held him in your arms cursed yourself for letting him sleep in a crib. He was growing and so were his chubby arms, legs and cheek.

“Morning my munchkin!”. You peppered him with kisses.

“Morning, love”. Gojo wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his face on your shoulder.

You bit your lip nervously, this was the worst time for him to get all cuddly with you. Though he wasn’t at fault, your own attraction annoyed you.

“Go away”. You shrugged and walked away from him.

‘“Ouch, Why?”. Gojo asked as he ran his hand through his possibly wet hair.

You glared at him. “Because you’re annoying”.

“Why am I annoying?”. Gojo chuckled. He knew you didn’t mean it but he was having fun at your expense.

“Because…”. You bit the inside of your cheeks. How dare you look like that?! Who looks like that?! Either stop being a respectful husband or put on a damn shirt!. “.....Because you hogged all the blankets last night”.

“That’s not possible”. Gojo shrugged. “You were in my arms the entire night”.

His choice of words, the structure of his sentence, frustrated you more. You didn’t want to say anything else because you knew that he knew you too well and he would pick up on it.

“Nevermind, are we meeting the nanny today?”. You asked, untangling your locket from Keisuke’s hand.

Gojo picked up the water bottle and walked over to the bed, he sat down with a plop and took a sip. “Actually, I asked the agency to send us the profiles so we can go through it and then call the ones we like for an interview”.

You nodded your head. “Okay. We can do that. I gotta go shower now so do you mind holding him?”.

Gojo leaned back on his palms, “I was going to go for a shower now as well. Maybe we can go together”. He smirked.

You gave him a pressed smile, “And who will look after Keisuke then?”.

“So you don’t mind us taking a shower together?”. Gojo teased you further.

"Satoru!".

Gojo chuckled. "I'm just saying that you didn't say no". He shrugged sarcastically.

"You're a menace!". You scoffed. Keisuke, as if he could understand your banter, started giggling. "See, even he agrees!". You added.

Gojo got up and took Keisuke from your arms. "Fine then. You can go wash up first. I'll use that time to turn him on my side!".

You smiled and took Keisuke back from him. "You need to go to work so you can go first".

Keisuke looked at the two of you wide eyed.

"I am not going to work today". Gojo added and took Keisuke back.

"Why not?". You asked.

"I don't want to". Gojo smiled.

"Satoru…".

"Yes?".

"Go wash up and go to work". You folded your hands over your chest.

"Why can't I spend some time with you?".

"You can. Once you come back".

"But I don't want to go". Gojo whined.

"Satoru".

"What will I get if I go to work?".

"You'll get your work done".

Gojo rolled his eyes and spun Keisuke around. "Boooorrrriiinnnggg".

You sighed and closed your eyes. "Fine. If you go to work then I will…make…waffles for you in the evening". Gojo had mentioned that he misses the waffles you used to make every Sunday and though it was not a Sunday you thought it would be a good bait.

Gojo looked at you and weighed the offer. He then looked at Keisuke who seemed to be contemplating the offer as well. "should I take it?". He asked Keisuke. Keisuke looked at you and then at him and gave Gojo a gummy smile.

"That's a yes!". You pointed at Keisuke. "You know that's a yes!".

Gojo groaned and handed Keisuke back to you. "You're a meanie". He said and walked past you.

"Do you want those waffles or-".

"You're the best wife in the whole world and I love you so much!!!". Gojo yelled as he walked inside the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

You turned around in the direction Gojo had just walked on and started at the closed bathroom door. "I love you too". You whispered to yourself and Keisuke.

-X-

You sat on the couch in the living room and flipped through the file containing profiles of all the available nannies.

Gojo sipped his tea next to you and watched you read every single detail. He had purposely canceled his meetings for the rest of the day so he could do this with you.

"Ummm did you get my message in the bathroom today?". Gojo asked, watching you amusingly.

You looked at him through the corner of your eyes, "I did". You smiled and went back to reading Ms.Iwazumi's details.

"Sooo … do you have something to say about that?". Gojo bit the inside of his cheeks. His palms were sweating and his heart was beating out of his chest.

"Actually…. Half of the message got fogged up so all I read was 'Do you'". You smirked.

You had read the message written on the bathroom mirror. It was sweet and had multiple small hearts around it. It was childish and humorous but it was Gojo in every way. It simply read,

Do you

want to go on a date

with me?

Gojo scoffed. He knew what you were up to. "You did read it, didn't you?".

"Like I said, all I read was 'do you', do I what Satoru?". You spoke without meeting his eyes.

"Y/n..".

"Yes?".

"Look at me". Gojo said, keeping the teacup on the table.

You turned your head towards him and raised an eyebrow promoting him to go ahead.

Gojo smiled widely, he knew you knew. You were teasing him. Your cold hard exterior was melting. His y/n, was now seeping through the cracks of the wall. "Love, Do you want to go on a date with me?".

You pressed your lips together to hold the smile, it was funny to see a grown man, getting nervous to ask his wife on a date. "Yes. I will". You gave him a short smile and went back to the file.

"How about him?!". You asked wide eyed and pointed to the photo of a man.

"Him?". Gojo frowned. There was no way he was going to let another man be anywhere near you. Especially anyone who is under 50!.

"Yes! He has good credentials and references".

"He's not even that good looking". Gojo commented with a scowl.

"Satoru, this is not a pageant selection. This is a nanny selection".

"Mmmhmm". Gojo nodded and read the profile. It was good. He could work.

"And he is not that bad looking".

"Absolutely no!". Gojo scoffed and took the page off from the file and crumpled it only a ball and tossed it on the table.

"Satoru!".

"He was just…not good enough. We need someone with more experience". Gojo said.

You frowned but moved onto the next one. "Ummm okay, how about him?"..

"Another him?!".

After arguing back and forth you had gone through the entire file and not selected a single one. Some were not experienced with toddlers, some did not have good referrals and some were just…men.

"What do we do now?". You asked as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

"We ask another agency". Gojo said flatly.

But you had other ideas. Better idea. You turned towards Gojo and smiled. You took his hand in yours and tried to come up with the right argument to support the case. Truth be told, you didn't need any of that. Gojo was already on your side the moment you held his hand.

"How about we ask Jerry to be Keisuke's nanny? He practically raised you, and I want him to raise Keisuke too. He has experience and he is family".

Gojo hummed. "I mean if…he agrees then sure. That's a great idea". Gojo smiled. You smiled eye to eye and hugged Gojo. "Thanks!".

Gojo chuckled and rubbed your back. "You're adorable".

You realized what you had done and immediately pulled back, clearing your throat. “I..There is also ..uumm another thing”.

“What thing?”.

“I have to take Keisuke for his health check up this friday. I have already made an appointment for 10:00 AM so if you want..or if you’re free…you can..come”.

Gojo Scoffed. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”.

“It's just his regular checkups so I didn’t want to bother you with-”.

“Bother me?!”. Gojo’s eyes widened. He pressed his lips and stood up running his hand through his hair.

You watched him silently with your mouth hung open. He was angry. “Satoru calm down”. You got up and tried to hold his hand but Gojo was spiraling. You could see it. The gears were turning behind his eyes and even though he stayed silent you could tell he was thinking of a thousand different things right now.

“Satoru..please calm down”.

“I thought..I thought you trusted me now”. Gojo spoke, looking not at you but a distant point on the wall behind you. “And now you are telling me that I CAN come! I am supposed to be there!”.

“Satoru..I do. This has nothing to do with..with anything. I really just thought that-”.

“That I’d be too busy to show up for my son?”. Gojo cut you off. He looked at you with an helpless look of a man who had failed and failed and failed.

You were at a loss of words. You didn’t mean to hurt him. “No..I just..Satoru..”. You pressed your lips together and sucked in a sharp breath ”I just didn’t think much of it. I have been doing this ever since he was born so it was really just out of habit. If I didn’t trust you then why would I even ask you to come?”.

Gojo let out a sigh and nodded his head, “Don’t you get it? I don’t want you to ask me anything. You tell me. You tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it. I could have made the appointment and I could have handled everything, I can do it y/n! Just..tell me what I need to do”.

“Satoru..you already have so much on your plate. I have seen your schedule and I-”.

“Y/n!”. Gojo cut you off with a frenzied state of mind. “That is work! That can wait. Don’t even think for a second that I would ever…ever put work before my family. Even if it's something as small as going for a walk, you tell me! ”.

"Satoru, it's not like I was hiding it from you. I told you didn't I? So why are you trying to make a huge deal out of it?". You retaliated at the same pitch Gojo spoke.

Gojo scoffed and bit his lip. "Huge deal? Y/n you never mentioned that we need to take Keisuke for regular check ups!".

"That's because it's common sense!".

"Not.to.me! Everything, all of this is new to me! You have been his mother since the day he was born and I have hardly been a father for a month so I would need you to tell me these things".

"I did tell you. Right now! I just made an appointment that's all".

"God y/n! You can't just make an appointment in any random hospital! Did you even look into the doctor? Did you even check the hospital's track record? Do you really want to take your son to ..to some random doctor?".

You let out a chuckle which made Gojo frown. "Satoru, it's just a regular pediatric check up".

"Well not to me. I want to make sure that my son gets the best doctor there is! I can't just take him into a random clinic! As a mother are you not concerned about the kind of care he needs?".

You took a step back. "Are you saying that…I don't care enough for him? That I would just take him anywhere?".

Gojo pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "I just want what's best for him. I have missed out on so much and-".

"Whose fault is that?". You blurted out.

A heavy silence took place where anger had been. As soon as the words left your mouth you wished you hadn't said anything at all. You didn't intend to remind Gojo of the past and you certainly didn't want to use it against him.

You could see him struggling to hold back his tears. Something as small as this triggered something big inside him and this time you had a faint idea about what it could have been. It hurt you to see him like this, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn't mean it”. You muttered and held his shaking hands.

Gojo stayed silent.

"Satoru…I didn't mean it".

“It’s alright”. Gojo let out a heavy breath.

You swallowed painfully. There was nothing you could do now.You can't mend anything right now. “I’ll..I’ll go talk to Jerry”.

“Okay”. Gojo pulled his hand back and slid them into his pocket.

“See you in the evening”. You gave a curt smile, hoping to ease the tension.

Gojo nodded blankly and walked out first. You stood there and watched him disappear around the corner. You turned around slowly and sheepishly made your way to the bedroom. Maybe he just needed some space and time and then he’ll be..he'll be fine. Right?

-X-

You carefully added the chocolate syrup on the waffles like a chef on a cooking show. Gojo could be here any minute and after your last conversation you wanted to make him happy. So here you were decorating each waffle to perfection. A smiley face, A cloud, and a heart. You contemplated the heart but then decided to just go for it.

You placed each of them on a rectangular tray with whipped cream and cut strawberries on the side. You stood back from the kitchen counter and admired your work. He would like it for sure and maybe then he'll forgive you.

You sat on the high chair on one side of the kitchen island and waited for him to walk through any minute. The clock above the entryway indicated that Gojo should be here in 3 minutes at exactly 5:00 PM. He was always so punctual.

Jerry rocked Keisuke gently in his arms. He has agreed to babysit him happily. He loved Keisuke and he knew you needed a friend too. He had seen you try and talk to other people but no one opened up to you. He had seen this happen before and maybe this time he will be able to change the fate.

You got off from the chair and pace around the kitchen. "He will show up, right?". You asked nervously.

You had told Jerry about your fight, he knew both of you were at fault but at least you were trying to extend a peace offering, as far as he knew Gojo, he had his doubts. "Mr.Gojo must be caught up with work. How about you have some tea till then?".

You shook your head, "I'll have it with him". You checked on the plates and adjusted them so they were in a perfect line. Anything…anything to keep you busy until he comes. Every passing second felt like an hour.

Gojo was 5 minutes late, but that's normal, you thought. You sat in the chair and prepared a monologue about how to apologize to him. Next thing you knew it was 5:30. Gojo was not there and the waffles had turned cold. You started making another batch to serve him hot ones when he comes.

You were trying hard to control your tears, making excuses as to why he couldn't be here. Meeting? Work? Maybe he wasn't in the house and was stuck in traffic? Same smiley face, cloud and heart with chocolate syrup.

You checked the clock, it was 5:55. Gojo was not coming. You looked at Jerry and took a deep breath. "He isn't coming, is he?".

Before Jerry could reply, a man in black suit walked into the kitchen. He turned towards Jerry instead of you and offered a curt bow, "Mr.Gojo says he won't be coming. He is busy with work. He will be here for dinner".

Jerry looked at you helplessly. He wanted to offer you words to stop the tears running down your cheeks but your sad smile told him that his words were of no use.

"Excuse me?". You called out to the man. He turned towards you and bowed curtly.

"Yes ma'am".

"Can you please give these to him? I can pack it right now". You said and pulled out a glass container from the shelf. You carefully placed each waffle inside along with whipped cream and strawberries.

"Uhgh…sure…I will". He took the container from you and left with another curt bow.

"I guess I'll see him at dinner then". You shrugged and took off the apron.

You fed and put Keisuke to sleep. Jerry stayed with him in the bedroom while you waited for your husband in the dining room. You watched as the chefs put dishes on the table. You took a sip from your glass and bit your lip nervously. Deep down you doubted that he would show up. But you're wishful thinking got the best of you. You were upset that he didn't send back any message about the waffles. Did he like them? Did he even eat them? How can someone be so busy? You let out a frustrated sigh.

He was 30 minutes late. You knew he wasn't coming but you also didn't have it in you to leave. You wanted him to come. You were begging him to come. To just show up, have a meal with you and then get as mad as he wanted. "Please.." you whispered to yourself as you folded your hands in a silent prayer. An hour passed as you sat silently. You looked up and looked at the chefs, waiting for your order.

"Can you please check with Mr.Gojo to see when he will be coming". You asked a guard. He nodded and immediately pressed a button on his walkie talkie.

He entered the room a few minutes later and the apologetic look on his face gave you your answer. "Mr.Gojo has already had dinner in his office".

You nodded your head and got up. "You can leave for the day. Thank you". You smiled at the kitchen staff and walked out.

You took deep breaths on your way to the bedroom to control the flood of emotions. You thought you masked it well but as soon as you entered the bedroom and saw Jerry you broke down.

Jerry was on your side in a second, helping you stand up and walk you to the bed. He handed you a glass of water and a towel.

"He didn't come, Jerry. I waited …but…". You hiccuped. "..I didn't mean to hurt him. I swear I didn't. I…don't know what to do". You sobbed.

"It's alright. I know you didn't mean to. It's going to be fine".

You nodded and wiped the tears off of your face.

"Did you have dinner?". Jerry asked.

You shook your head.

“I’ll get something for you”.

"I've lost my appetite. I'd like to sleep now. I don't feel good".

Jerry sighed and nodded. He helped you get in bed and took his leave. Even when he closed the door behind him he could hear faint sobs and hiccups.

He should have gone to his quarters and retired for the day but the look on your face haunted him. You made a mistake but who doesn't? So here he was walking into Gojo's office, determined to stop the past from repeating itself.

Gojo looked up from behind his laptop and smiled, "Hello, Jerry".

"Hello Mr.Gojo".

"How may I help you?". Gojo asked, shutting his laptop off.

"May I ask you something, sir?". Jerry asked in his polite manner with his hands behind his back.

"Sure". Gojo leaned back in his leather chair.

"Do you love Ms.Y/n?".

Gojo stared at Jerry for a few moments. "I do. You know I do".

"Did you promise her that you'd see her in the evening?".

Gojo sighed and looked down. "I did..but we had a..fight".

"Did you give her your word that you'd show up for dinner?".

Gojo looked up, "it's not that simple Jerry. Her words hurt me. I have done everything I could but it's not enough for her. I can't erase the past for her. I would if I could but I can't".

"What did she do that upset you in the first place?". Jerry asked.

"She booked an appointment with a doctor for Keisuke's check-up without asking me first".

"Why should she have to ask you? Is she not his mother?".

"She is! But I can have the best doctor for him".

"Which doctor would you have booked Mr.Gojo". Jerry's calm tone sent a shiver down Gojo's spine.

"Mrs.Iwazumi at Tokyo met hospital. She is the best pediatrician in the country".

Jerry smiled. "Do you know Mr.Gojo that Ms.y/n had booked the same doctor. In fact she had made an appointment the day the three of you left for Tokyo".

Gojo's mouth opened and then closed. "No. I…I didn't know that".

"Did you ask her about it?".

"I didn't. Okay? That was my fault but she-".

"Mr.Gojo you do realize that you implied that she is a bad parent? The one that cannot take care of their child. When you know very well the sacrifices that she had made to protect master Keisuke".

"I didn't mean to. I.. I really didn't mean to".

"Neither you nor I could ever be mother's so it is not up to us to decide who is a good mother. She left her village to be here with you and Keisuke, do you really think she would have done that had she been a bad mother? Do you think it's easy to uproot your life and move away from friends and family all for the sake of your child?".

Gojo swallowed painfully. He could see where he was wrong now. While you had pointed out the truth, Gojo had accused you of being a bad parent. He undermined your capability to take care of Keisuke.

"Today she spent hours making the perfect waffles for you to make up for her wrongs. Do you think she would have done that had she not loved you?".

Gojo looked up with wide eyes. He didn't know what to say.

Jerry continued, "I watched her count each minute waiting for you, making and remaking waffles".

"I needed some time". Gojo spoke in his defense.

Jerry smiled, "Did that help you Mr.Gojo? Or did that only push you two apart?".

Gojo stayed silent. He knew the answer.

"Did you have your dinner Mr.Gojo?". Jerry continued.

Gojo nodded. "I did".

"Ms.Y/n waited for over an hour for you in the dining room".

"Jerry I-"

"And then she cried herself to sleep. So I really hope you enjoyed your dinner Mr.Gojo. I may not be an expert on marriages but let me tell you this, she did not deserve to cry herself to sleep".

Gojo's stomach dropped. He couldn't imagine putting you through something like that. "Jerry, I swear I had no idea that she was waiting. I didn't think she would".

"You underestimate her. She is a good woman. Now if you'll excuse me, it's way past my shift time. Goodnight Mr.Gojo".

Jerry bowed and left Gojo's office.

Gojo sat silently, replaying the conversation in his head. He had no idea it would escalate this much. He thought about the waffles that his guard brought in, the call on walkie talkie asking about him, he should have known then. He was so blinded by his anger that he couldn't see the signs. "Fuck". Gojo muttered and ran out of his office.

He prayed for you to still be up, reading, standing on the balcony, anything, he wanted to talk to you, beg for your forgiveness, grovel at your feet. He would do it all and then do it again a thousand times.

He barged in through the door and walked inside the bedroom. You seemed asleep. There was silence. Keisuke was asleep too. He walked over to the bed and saw you sleeping in the dress you had worn that day. He could see your tear stained cheeks and red nose. He didn't know what to do. Should he wake you up? Or let you sleep?

He slid inside the duvet removing his shoes and socks. He didn't want to waste another second. He caressed your cheeks and could feel the stickiness on them.

"I'm sorry", he whispered, but it was too late now. He was scared to hold you, to invade the space you had created for yourself, a space that he had lost access to.

He lay wide awake, replaying the whole day. He pictured you waiting for him and it broke his heart. He replayed the conversation in his head and winced at his own words. He wished he could take back everything he had said. It really wasn't a big deal. He should have asked you before blowing things out of proportion. He didn't know what to do. When it came to you and making up for his mistakes he was clueless.

Gojo got off the bed and walked into the kitchen. He had sent back the waffles in anger and now they were laying in a corner in the same container you had packed them in. He opened them and smiled when he saw the faded smiley face, cloud and the heart. They were cold and soggy, the strawberries had started to darken but Gojo brought the container to the kitchen island and ate the soggy waffles. They didn't taste how they were supposed to and he had to chew with all his effort but he finished every last one of them with tears in his eyes. He sniffled, thinking how he lost out on a happy memory with you all because of his anger. He didn't even deserve these soggy waffles, he didn't deserve anything. He was a terrible husband. What kind of a husband lets his wife cry herself to sleep? What kind of husband puts his wife through so much pain? He didn't deserve to be called your husband. He didn't deserve you. He felt pathetic and small. But regardless he ate all off the waffles and cleaned the container afterward.

When he walked back in, he saw that you had faced the other way but you were still asleep. He sighed and slipped in next to you. Keeping his distance.

Your eyes opened when you felt the mattress sink behind you. You had woken up a while ago and when you didn't see Gojo next to you you turned the other way. Was he returning now? This late? You were still hurt and as much as you wanted to turn to him and talk to him about what happened you weren't sure if he wanted the same thing. What if he was still mad at you, nothing you could say would make any difference because it was clear to you now that you were here only because of Keisuke. Gojo loved you as the mother of his child.

You felt his arm drape over your waist and it triggered something, if he wasn't going to love you for who you are then he had no right to love you at all.

You kept your hand on top of his and yanked his hand away. You got off the bed and made your way towards the wardrobe to change.

"Y/n". Gjojo got up, surprised. You were awake. He followed you in quietly but once both of you were inside he grabbed your wrist and turned you around. The movement had you bumping against his chest. "Please..i just want to talk".

You tried to break free but his grip remained firm. "There is nothing to talk about. Let me go!". You spoke In hushed tone. Worried that you might wake up Keisuke.

"Y/n, Please. Give me a chance to explain".

“Let me go Satoru!”.

“Please just hear me out once and then you can be mad at me but please please just hear me out”

You stopped struggling and let out a quivering breath. Your heart was aching and it was getting unbearable. "What do you have to say?".

Gojo was surprised at your agreement. But he took what he got. "I'm sorry. I was angry and I took it out in a very bad way. I am really sorry for everything that happened today. I didn't mean to call you a bad parent and I didn't mean to treat you this way".

"Okay". You replied with a sad smile. You could feel the hurt spreading from your chest to your arms to your stomach. It was everywhere. You didn't want to fight. You just wanted this day to be over. You had lost the battle already.

"What?". Gojo frowned. No it cannot be right, he thought to himself.

“Okay, fine you didn't mean to treat me this way. Got it.”.

Gojo opened his mouth then closed it. You didn’t believe him, he thought. You were only saying this to get him off. “You don't believe me?”. He asked.

"I..". You took a deep breath. "..said it's alright". You tried to pull away again but Gojo didn't let you go.

"No. What do you mean it's alright? Aren't you mad at me? Get angry at me. Yell at me". Gojo struggled to keep his voice low.

"Why?..why..". You stuttered. ".. should I? You…you you don't owe me anything". You looked up at him and gave him a sad smile.

"No. That's not why I'm doing this. Y/n, I am really sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I swear I didn't". Gojo owed you everything, he owed you his life, he owed you every happy moment he has ever had. He owed it all to you.

"I said it's fine".

Gojo shook his head. "It's not. I don't know why you're saying it is but it's not".

"What do you want me to say? Satoru I know what I said wasn't right but I tried to make it up to you. I … I waited for you. If you didn't want to see me..if you..needed space then you could have just told me. I…You say one thing and then you do another..I..I don’t know what to feel anymore. I feel empty..stupid and..just..hollow..I don’t mean anything". You looked down and could feel the tears rolling over to the edge of your jaw and then only the carpet below.

Gojo placed his index finger under your chin and tilted up your face. He could see the damage he had done. This wasn't the first time you had waited for him and he had failed to show up to only show up when it was too late. He could see it written clearly in your eyes that you were thinking about that time and he knew you wouldn't bring that up. You didn't have to. He knew. He had no words. He had no explanation. He could see that you were really not mad at him but you were hurt. No words could fix it. You were right, you had no reason to trust him. Your words brought out a buried memory and an icy chill ran down his spine.

“I..I’m not a bad mother Satoru. I care for Keisuke. He…he is the reason I live. I'd do anything…anything for him. I'd go through all the bad days for him so I don’t care how you treat me anymore, Kiesuke love..loves you so long as you’re a good father to him..I have..I have no-”.

Gojo's face turned pale, like he had seen a ghost or maybe reminded of onel. No no no no, Gojo thought to himself, this can’t be happening, there was now ay this was happening, the same words, the same look on your face, he had turned into the monster he hated the most. His head was spinning, he was not going to let history repeat itself . He had no words, no excuses,so he leaned down and pressed his lips onto yours.

Your initial reaction was withdrawal but when he pulled you closer and molded his lips to yours, you caved in. Your hands that were resting against his chest now we're wrapped around his neck.

His one hand wrapped around your waist and the other tangled in your hair. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He had expected you to push him away but as soon as your arms wrapped around his neck he was alive again. This was not a dream, this was not a hallucination, this was real. The warmth of your mouth and the softness of your lips were all real. The curve of your waist and the suppleness of your breast pressing against him was all real. He needed you, he needed your every breath. He wanted it.

Your lips moved in perfect rhythm. Gojo bit your bottom lip asking for more and you gave it to him. You moaned into each other’s mouth and clung to each other with absolute desperation. You fisted his shirt and he tangled his hands in your hair. Your noses bumped against each other and his one hand pressed your lower back to push you into him. You could feel the warmth of his hand and how big it was. You felt like a delicate bird in the hands of a gentle giant. Both of you were a moaning, panting mess. Each breath was exchanged and each whimper met its match.Both of you were tired, tired of fighting, tired of arguing, tired of proving yourselves. This…this was a passionate outlet, a means to communicate what words couldn't and heart longed for. Gojo nibbled and sucked on your lips, the kiss was sweet and salty. It tasted of want and anger. Your teeth clashed and tongues collided. The two of you were fighting and when your hands tugged his hair Gojo knew he had lost but God did it feel good to lose.

When you broke the kiss both of you were heaving for air.Hair mess, body sweaty, but neither of you let go. You held onto each other. "I'm sorry..Y/n..love I..I’m so sorry..please..please. It's not just about Keisuke. I know I fucked up but please just know that I need you. I need you to be here, to be here with me". Gojo muttered against your lips, eyes half lidded, breath heavy with desperation and lack of air. He pressed his forehead to yours and his tears mixed with yours and rolled down your chin. “..I can’t live.. without you..so curse me out as much as you want but don’t think for a second that you mean nothing”.

You realized what had just happened. "I..let me go". You whispered and tried to walk away but Gojo didn't let you. He held onto you with his life. He was not going to let you believe that this was nothing. This was everything for him.

"No no no no. Don't say that. Please..please.. don't say that".

You sucked in a sharp breath. "Satoru…It’s alright". You put your palm flatly against his chest and your eyes widened at the rapid beating of his heart. Sure your heartbeat had picked up too but you were sure Gojo was either having a panic attack or was on the verge of having one. His hands that cupped your face trembled and when you put your hand over his, he let out a shuddered breath, worried that you were pushing him away, but you didn’t. You held his hands firmly in yours.

“Satoru..are you alright?”.

Gojo remained silent for a few seconds taking in deep breaths to compose himself. “I love you. You are my whole life y/n. Not just a part of it”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, "We're fine. It was just a bad day". You tried to calm his nerves. To another person Gojo would just seem Gojo, but you could feel his pulse, his ragged breath, how his lips quivered as he tried to maintain his composure. A part of you wanted to tell him to let it all out. To cry as much as he wanted because you were there to hold him but you knew he wasn't ready yet. You gave his hand a light squeeze and tiptoed to kiss his cheeks. "we are more than fine Satoru".

Gojo chuckled and sniffled and then pulled you into him."I love you y/n..I do..I really fucking do. I promise this won't happen again".

You pulled back with your arms still around him and stared at him for a few seconds and then gave him a short smile. You wanted to tell him you loved him but the words just won't fall out of your lips. “Okay”.

“No more bad days”, he smiled sadly and caressed your cheeks with his thumb. “Why don’t you go wash up and I’ll see you outside”. He gave you another short kiss on the lips and walked out smiling. He was happy that he could kiss you now. Whether it meant kissing in the storm or kissing in the comfort of his home, he would take all of the kisses.

-X-

"Hey Jerry, can I ask you something?". You asked as you watched Jerry put Keisuke in a stroller after getting him ready for your walks.

"Anything ma'am". He smiled.

"Why is the left wing of the house closed? I tried going in but the guard told me that no one is allowed to go there except Satoru".

Jerry took a deep breath. "Ms.Y/n…". Jerry paused searching for words.

"Please Jerry. I can't ask Satoru and I…I might have triggered something in him a few days ago..I mean I think I did…I don't know..".

Jerry frowned but silently pushed the stroller and walked next to you. "Ms.Y/n I am sure that whatever it was Mr.Gojo would never blame you for it".

"I know I just..I want to know about his life. He hardly tells me anything and sometimes I feel he is comparing himself…or the situation with something or someone. Like all of this is a bad Deja Vu for him. I don't know how to explain it".

But Jerry knew what you were talking about. He contemplated for a minute. How much did he have the right to tell you? You were right, Gojo would never bring up any of this. He looked at you, you were worried about him.

"Ms.y/n. Mr.Gojo's life has not been a cakewalk. If I may speak freely, this is the happiest I have seen him since the day he was born".

You frowned."Why? What happened? Please Jerry. I need to know". You pleaded.

Jerry sighed. "Mr.Gojo had a tough life. He was not born as a son but as an heir to the Gojo group. The family initially inhabited the left wing of the estate where Mr.Gojo spent most of time with his mother. He was really close to her but deep inside evidently he wanted his father. He would wait for hours outside his father's office with his toys and would throw a fit when he was picked up by the guards and taken to his room. He was treated unkindly by his father and every time his mother stepped in between she suffered the same consequences".

“What do you mean unkindly?”.

Jerry sighed, “His father was an aggressive person and anyone who came in his way suffered his wrath both mentally and..physically”.

“Jerry…that..cruel. That’s abuse!”.

“It is Ms.Y/n. But our hands were tied”

"What happened to his mother? He never talks about her". You asked as you came to a halt near the gazebo.

Jerry kept the stroller to the side and sat opposite to you. "When Mr.Gojo was 9 his mother came to be with a child. It was surprising to all of us but Mr.Gojo was happy that he would have a sibling to play with. His mother suffered greatly during her second pregnancy. She couldn't bear to bring another child into this life. So she left".

"Left?".

"Yes ma'am”.

“You mean, she ran away?”.

“Yes ma’am. She did not want her child to be a part of this world. But his father saw this as an act of defiance and his guard brought her back after a week. Mr.Gojo saw it all. The way his mother was dragged to the office and how she pleaded with his father to treat her kids fairly and kindly regardless of how he treated her. I tried so hard ..to take Me.Gojo away but he didn't move. Sadly she passed away during childbirth. Mr.Gojo was there at the hospital, excitedly waiting for his sibling. He even carried his favorite toys to share. But neither of them survived".

Your stomach dropped. Suddenly everything made sense. His paranoia, his fears. Gojo never brought up any of this and always gave a pretense of having everything he wanted. You could imagine him being a 9 year old waiting outside the room with his favorite toys and getting the news. It broke your heart into a million pieces. You realized the weight of your words and felt small. Maybe you didn't have the most financially secured childhood but you had a happy family. You parents loved you and loved each other. You knew what love looked like. You were never forced to marry someone. You were never physically or mentally abused. Your parents tucked you in at night and helped you with school work.

You let out a sigh and rubbed your forehead. "How can….how can a father let his child go through so much?".

"Not everyone is fortunate to have good parents Ms. y/n".

You swallowed harshly. The part about your pregnancy that you so carefully hid to save yourself from looking weak now seemed like a threat to Gojo's sanity. It was history repeating itself and to think Gojo was witnessing it all for the second time made bile rise in your throat.

"If I may ask Jerry….how did his mother..I mean what happened?". You asked hesitantly.

"Hemorrhage. They couldn't resuscitate her after the bleeding stopped".

Your heart skipped a beat and color drained from your face. You were frozen. You blinked slowly as the world seemed to halt around you.

"Ma'am? Are you Okay?". Jerry asked with a hint of panic in his voice. He was about to call the guards but you stopped him.

"No. I'm.. I'm fine". You reassured him and gulped down the glass of water. Jerry sat down hesitantly and re-filled your glass of water. "Did his father…mend things after?".

"No ma'am. He didn't. When he passed away Mr.Gojo permanently closed off the left wing of the estate. Everything was bought new and this wing was set up for him".

You nodded and gave a curt smile. "That makes sense"

"Ms. Y/N, I have been with Mr.Gojo for most of his life. He can be difficult to be with but he is a good man". Jerry gave a fond smile.

You saw Jerry's smile and felt relieved knowing that Gojo had someone like him.

You let Jerry leave for the day and carried Keisuke in your arms back to the room. Everything that Jerry told you lay heavily in your mind. You wished you could undo the past for someone. You wished you had someone to get angry at. Someone to yell at. But you didn't.

Gojo was sitting on the bed scrolling through his phone when you walked in. He smiled fondly at you as he kept his phone away. But now you could see the wounded child behind the kind smile. You could see the tiredness on his face and how well he tried to hide it.

You walked over to him and Keisuke immediately extended his grabby hands to indicate that he wanted his father. Gojo cooed and took Keisuke from you and peppered kisses over him making the little one giggle. You sat down next to him on the bed and rested your head on his shoulder and wrapped one arm around his bicep. You weren't pitying him, you just wanted to be close to him.

"Everything okay?". Gojo asked, raising a suspicious brow.

"Mmmhmmm". You replied with a smile.

Gojo leaned down and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

"Satoru…". You kept your chin on your shoulder and looked at him.

Gojo turned his head towards you. "Yes my love?".

You smiled. "Do you want to bathe him today?".

Gojo's eyes lit up. "Absolutely I do!". He tickled Keisuke "Guess who's having bath time with daddy today!!". Keisuke bursted into a fit of giggles.

"Go ahead, I'll bring his clothes in".

Minutes later you walked in the bathroom to see Gojo in the bathtub with Keisuke leaning on his chest. Gojo wiped his back with the sponge and you can tell both of them were enjoying it. Suds covered part of Gojo's naked torso and your breath hitched every time his bicep flexed.

Gojo saw you standing at the door and smiled. "I decided to join in".

You walked over to them and kneeled near the tub. "I can see that".

Keisuke turned his head towards you and gave you a gummy smile when you rubbed his back. "You having fun, baby?". For some reason known only to him he started sighed happily. Gojo followed suit and you watched two of them. Gojo dipped Keisuke's feet in the water and he kicked the surface , splashing water on you and Gojo.

You closed your eyes and winced back. "Such a menace!". You said as you wiped off water from your face.

Gojo looked at you with a smile but it faltered when he saw the trail of water drop starting from the side of your face and rolling to your jaw and down the neck and stopping right at your cleavage. His heart raced and he gulped harshly. You had changed into a baby blue silk nightdress and the water made it stick to your skin leaving little for Gojo's imagination. His skin felt hot and his breath ragged. He sucked in a sharp breath as you tilted your head back exposing your neck and patted around your neck and breasts with a towel. He tried to divert his thoughts but with each splash of water it got harder for him to concentrate on anything else. All he wanted to do right now was put Keisuke to sleep and devour you with all his life.

"There's two of you". You said.

"What?". Gojo asked, snapping out of his thoughts and looking at you.

Your gaze drifted from his face to Keisuke's.

"There's two of you. You two look …exactly the same". It was true. Both of them looked the same. Same wet white strands plastered against the forehead. Same cerulean eyes that widened every time you spoke. Same arched lips that pouted when you scolded them.

Keisuke's eyes widened as if he was shocked at the relevation. Gojo hummed, picked him up and brought him to his face. "My baby looks like me. Are you going to my daddy's baby or mommy's?". Gojo asked.

"He is always going to be my baby!". You pulled his cheeks gently.

"We'll see about that when he is a year old".

You widened your eyes and turned your head towards Gojo. "You want to bet on it?". You asked, biting your lower lip.

"Absolutely I do".

"What are we betting then?". You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gojo hummed and then smirked. "How about….another kid?".

You opened your mouth to say something but your words died down.

"If he turns out to be a daddy's kid then we have another baby". Gojo continued and kissed Keisuke's cheeks.

You bit your lip. "Fine. But if he turns out to be a mommy's baby then…no more kids". You chuckled.

Gojo fake gasped and looked at Keisuke, "Did you hear what she said? No siblings for you!".

Keisuke looked at him wide-eyed and then at you.

You giggled at them "sometimes I think that he can understand exactly what we're talking about".

"I know!". Gojo agreed. "Our baby's a genius! Daddy’s baby is a genius and a menace just like daddy".

-X-

The timing could not have been more off. You chewed on your bottom lip as you saw the near empty suitcase. All your outdoor clothes were in the laundry. But that wasn't the cause of your concern. You had to leave for Keisuke's appointment in 30 minutes. "Fuck". You muttered under your breath and rummaged through what little clothes you had. How could it happen? How can all your clothes be in the laundry at the same time? You had one pair of jeans and PJs. Sure you were surrounded by clothes from every high fashion designer in the world but your mind was fixated on your stupidity.

"Y/n you okay?". Gojo came out from his side of the wardrobe and leaned sideways on the wooden shelf containing dresses with his hands in his pocket. He was dressed already in navy blue trousers and white Ralph Lauren Polo t-shirt. His hair was in perfect shape, as if it's ever out of shape, and he has his signature Patek Philippe watch on.

You turned around and felt embarrassed at your situation. Sure if it was just you, you would have put on one of the old t-shirts and your jeans but you cannot do that now and walk next to someone who was dressed like THAT. "I…".

Gojo straightened up and walked towards you with his hands still in his pockets. "Everything alright?". He asked. He knew why you were flustered after all he had planned it.

"I don't know how but all my clothes are in the laundry".

Gojo looked at you with his mouth slightly open. You were actually concerned about that. "Y/n, look around". He suggested.

You looked around hoping to find one of your shirts or tops and it took you five seconds to understand what he meant. "Oh".

Gojo chuckled. "Just pick anything. It's all yours". He meant it. It was yours. He bought it for you.

"I…I can't". You muttered.

"It's all yours y/n. Whether you accept it or not, no one else is going to ever wear any of this". He gestured to the rows of clothing with an open palm.

You considered his offer. On one hand you were desperate but on the other you had another problem, "I understand but.. I'm not sure if I'll fit into it. My body is not the same as it…was". You admitted begrudgingly.

Gojo frowned. "Why don't you try something on and then we can decide".

You swallowed and checked your watch. You had less than 20 minutes to get ready. You took a deep breath and accepted your fate. "Fine but I don't know what to wear".

Gojo smiled and intertwined your fingers. He led you to a rack full of dresses. "How about we start here?". He said and pulled out a sleeveless cream coloured tweed dress with blue and red belt and matching bow around the neckline. You weren't a fashion expert and certainly did not have time to think about the price tag. You took the dress by the hangar and nodded your head.

"Okay I'll try it on and I'll call you".

Gojo sighed and turned around. "I swear I won't peek".

You shook your head and turned the other way. Even his presence made you conscious about your body. You quickly slipped into the dress and then it dawned. The zipper was at the back and hidden under the seams and you couldn't reach for it. You huffed and contorted your hand to get a good grip but failed.

"Satoru…".

"Yes?". Gojo asked, still turned away from you.

"Need help". You groaned.

Gojo turned around and saw you struggling with the zipper. He chuckled and stepped closer. "I've got it". He said and looked down. His breath hitched when his knuckle came in contact with your skin. He pulled the zipper up slowly and silently. "Done".

You let out a heavy breath and turned around, "Do I look okay?". You asked.

Gojo stared at you dumbfounded. Okay? You looked beautiful. "You are the most beautiful woman in this world. How did I get so lucky?". He said in all seriousness.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. "Let's go, we'll get late"

But Gojo wasn't done yet. He pulled out a matching coat to protect you from the cold outside and pulled out a pair of matching heels along with it.

"Satoru…I don't have time to doll up".

"Just the coat and heels and we're done" he said and handed you the items. You sighed and quickly on the coat.

"Let me". Gojo said and kneeled down with your heels in his hand.

You looked down and bit your lip as you slid your one foot in the heels and watched Gojo strap it in. He did the same with the other one and stood up with a satisfied smile.

"Shall we?". He asked.

You shook your head and nodded. "Yes. Done. Let's go".

Keisuke was strapped in between you and Gojo and had Mr.Carrot next to him. You looked outside at the city and smiled thinking about the time when you were just like people outside. Rushing to get from one place to another. A part of you missed that life. It also reminded you of Hiro. You might have settled in your life with Gojo but there was hardly a day when you didn't think about confronting Gojo about him.

Gojo had said that he had nothing to do with Hiro's death and though you didn't believe him completely there was nothing you could do. You looked at Keisuke and then at Gojo. They were a set and suddenly you felt like a third person. You wondered if there would ever be a time when you would let yourself be a part of Gojo's family as y/n and not as Keisuke's mother. But that bridge can only be crossed once you find out who killed Hiro.

"You okay?". Gojo asked, reaching for your hand and giving it a light squeeze.

"Yeah".

"You were thinking about something" Gojo added.

You winced at how easily he could read you. "Just reminiscing".

"About?".

You took a deep breath, "The time when I used to live in the city".

Gojo nodded his head. Were you thinking about Hiro? Why were you thinking about the time when he was not in your life and someone else was? Did you miss Hiro? He bit the inside of his cheek harshly.

The car came to a halt in front of the Hospital entrance and Gojo picked up Keisuke before you could. He held your hand with his other free hand. "If you want to move into the city then we can. I'll need a couple of weeks to arrange everything". He said as he led you in. Four guards clad in black walked behind you and it only made you more conscious of your presence.

"I mean it y/n". Gojo said sincerely as you stepped in the elevator leading you to the pediatric department.

"It's alright Satoru. I'm happy where we are".

"You sure?". He asked.

"Yes".

Gojo smiled and brought your hand up and packed a chaste kiss on your knuckles.

You stepped outside and made your way towards the doctor's cabin.

"Y/n?". A voice called out.

You and Gojo turned around at the same time.

"Hoshi?!". You dropped Gojo's hand and jogged to hug your old friend.

Gojo frowned as he saw you wrap your arms around his neck and the way this unknown man in white coat wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Oh my god! You're here!". You said.

"Yes. I moved to Tokyo a week ago. How are you? And what are you doing here?". He asked, still holding your hands.

"I'm here for Keisuke's monthly check ups and-". Before you could finish Gojo stood next to you towering over the man. "Hi, I'm y/n's husband". Gojo said, smiling sweetly.

Hoshi looked at you and then at the tall man holding Keisuke.

"Hi, I'm Hoshi, y/n's friend".

You could sense the tension and chuckled nervously. "Hoshi was my neighbor back in the village and also one of the best doctors".

"You flatter me mia". Hoshi said, scrunching his nose. Gojo winced at the nickname. He didn't know you were close enough to have a nickname for each other.

"Please! You were the one who took me to hospital in the middle of the night! I can never thank you enough Hoshi".

Hoshi smiled and went to caress Keisuke's cheeks but Gojo moved his shoulder away, "He's sleeping". Gojo warned. Hosi laughed nervously and turned towards you.

Gojo frowned and looked between you two. So he was there for the entirety of your pregnancy? If he was the one who took you to the hospital then does that mean that he was there when Keisuke was born.

Hoshi shook his head. "Are you regular for your check-ups mia?"

You opened your mouth to say something but Hoshi read your face.

"Knew it. You're so careless with your health. I'll make an appointment for you next week and I will pick you up if I have to but you're coming".

"She already has an appointment for next week". Gojo interrupted. "She might be careless but I can't let my wife skip a check up. Shall we go now….love?".

You looked at Gojo, confused, when did he make an appointment for you?

"Right we should get going". You said and turned to give Hosi a parting hug. "It was nice bumping into you".

Hoshi handed you his card. "Call me if you need anything. Even if it's the world's best coffee". He winked, making you laugh.

"Sure. I will. See you later Hoshi".

Gojo intertwined your hands and gave Hosi a warning smile and turned around. He stayed silent as Hoshi walked away. "You never told me about your friend". Gojo said dryly. He could feel jealousy spread inside him like a wildfire.

"Yeah I mean he moved to Osaka a month after Keisuke was born".

"Was he there when Keisuke was born? I mean…with you". Gojo asked, avoiding your gaze.

"Yes he was. Luckily. I was so scared".

Gojo hummed and stepped inside the room.

Dr.Iwazumi was a renowned child specialist and it was indeed difficult to get an appointment with her. But the Gojo family was a patron of the hospital and the new medical center so for him it was just a matter of a phone call.

"Hello Mr.Gojo". Dr.Iwazumi got up and extended an arm to shake Gojo's hand. She bowed to you curtly and you bowed back.

"I looked at Keisuke's file and I must say that he is a very healthy baby. You must have been really cautious during your pregnancy" she smiled at you.

"I tried my best doctor". You said, nervously.

Dr.Iwazumi picked up Keisuke gently and put him in a cushioned crib. She pressed the stethoscope to his back and nodded her head. She then proceeded to measure his weight and smiled. "He is perfectly healthy. We'll just give him his shots which will be completely painless".

You have been through this before. You had held him when he got his first vaccine so leaned and whispered to Gojo, "Do you want to hold him?".

Gojo didn't smile and nodded plainly. You pulled back and wondered what was going on with him. He would usually be happy and give you a smile. But you dropped it and watched Gojo hold Keisuke snugly as he got his vaccine.

Gojo remained silent during the entire car ride and it raised suspicion.

"Satoru are you okay?".

"Yes".

You held his hand and he let out a sigh. "Did you just sigh at me?". You scoffed.

Gojo pouted and looked at you. "If you were so close to Shiro then why didn't you tell me about him?".

"It's Hoshi and there is nothing to tell. He is a friend. I am sure you have many friends too".

"But I don't give them nicknames". Gojo retaliated with a hint of jealousy evident in his voice.

"It's nothing"

Gojo sucked in a sharp breath. "It's not nothing when a stranger clearly knows more about my wife than I do".

"That's not true".

Gojo stayed silent and turned to look out the window.

"Satoru, it's not true. He only knows what happened in that one year and you have known me for years".

Gojo hummed. You were right but the feeling stayed. He could not get over how freely that lowly human hugged you and rested his arms around your waist like he had any right to touch someone like you. If Gojo was not trying to be a good person for you he would have ripped Hoshi's arms off. How dare he touch you? How dare he hold your hand? How dare he give you a nickname? How dare he look at you like that?

Gojo took his phone out of his pocket and dropped a quick text to one of his "friends" at the hospital.

Gojo : How long has Dr.Hoshi worked at the hospital?

Mr.Iwazumi : Few months sir. Is there any issue? How was your visit? I hope everything was according to your needs.

Gojo : The visit went well. I think Mr.Hoshi is a good doctor but his services are not required at the hospital.

Mr.Iwazumi : You are absolutely right sir. We would be happy to transfer him to our regional branches.

Gojo : I think he would be best suited to lead our volunteer program in south Africa.

Mr.Iwazumi : You are absolutely right sir.

-X-

Keisuke was fast asleep and was going to sleep for another couple of hours as Dr.Iwazumi had told you. You walked in the wardrobe taking off your earrings and Gojo walked behind you.

"You need help with the dress?". Gojo asked.

You turned your head back and smiled. "I do".

But Gojo had other plans. He grabbed your wrist and spun you around and crashed his lips onto yours. You stumbled on your heels but Gojo balanced you by the waist. You moaned into the kiss when he pressed you into him. The kiss was different from the previous one. It was more desperate and filled with dark lust. Gojo kissed you like he would die without feeling your lips on his.

"Sa.." before you could take his name he sucked harshly on your lower lip making your eyes roll to the back of your head. "Fuck…". You murmured when he let go of your lip and trailed kissed down to your neck. You could feel the heat rising in your body traveling in waves all the way down to your core. Gojo sucked on the sensitive point on your neck and your knees almost gave up but Gojo's grip on your waist strengthened , pulling you into him and gently rocking your bodies together kept you standing up. Gojo wrapped a strong arm around your waist and lifted you up like you weighed nothing.

"Satoru…".You were gasping when you pulled away. "you were supposed to help me with the dress". You spoke with your lips still brushing against each other.

Gojo chuckled. "I can still do that". He slowly brought his hand up and unzipped the dress. The cold air made you shudder. But soon the cold was replaced by Gojo's warm palm pressing flat against your back.

Gojo gently nibbled on your lower lip, teasing you. Like he was reminding you that what you wanted was right here and all you had to do was let go of your doubts and reach for it. "Let's get you out of this dress". Gojo smirked against your lips and put you down.

You blushed as he kneeled in front of you and started sliding the dress up your body kissing every inch of exposed he could. You were on your way to heaven but then reality dawned on you. You put your hand over his and stopped his moments.

Gojo looked up at you worriedly. "Y/n…". He said. He didn't know what to say. Did he move too soon? Were you mad at him?

"I…I don't..I look different than I did before".

Gojo smiled and kissed the exposed skin on your right thigh. "The only thing I'll.be thinking about when you're out of this dress is where do I put my mouth first".

You gulped harshly as Gojo slid the dress past your waist. You pulled up the fabric and took it off completely like ripping off a bandaid. Gojo stood up and looked at you in your matching white set with his mouth agape. "You're so fucking beautiful you have no idea". He pulled you towards him and crashed his lips on yours.

Your hands tugged on his polo shirt and Gojo broke the kiss for a second to take off in one swift motion. He moaned into the kiss when he felt your hands drag over his torso. He gripped your waist and ran soothing circles on your skin. Just the feeling of your skin on his sent his brain into a frenzy. He had never felt more alive, his hands shaking out of desperation. He wanted to devour you but savor you at the same time.

In one swift motion he picked you up by the back of your thigh. Your breath shuddered when he wrapped your legs around his waist. Your mind went blank, all you could think and feel in the moment was Gojo. His scent, his breath, his voice intoxicated you. You opened your eyes when your back came in contact with the wall and Gojo's lips traveled down to the column of your neck. You sucked in a sharp breath and tugged his soft white hair. "Sa….toru …fuck". You breathed out. Gojo grinded into you and you had to bite your lip to suppress the moan. You wanted him badly. You needed him. You could tell how hard he was by the way he was masterfully rolling his hips against your clothed core.

Gojo's lips traveled down further leaving red marks on its way. He nibbled on the flesh of your breast and you pulled on his hair making him groan. Gojo looked up at you, smiling like a child who had won the trophy.

"God y/n". He breathed out and kissed you gently. "Tell me ..tell me what you want".

"Satoru…". You said and gulped hard. You knew what you wanted but felt guilty for wanting it.

"If you want me to stop then just say the word". Gojo looked at you intently.

"Sa-".

"Say my name one more time and I won't stop y/n. If you take my name one more time then..". He looked into your eyes then at your swollen lips. ".. I'll have you for myself".

Your heart skipped a beat as he said those last words brushing his lips against yours. You closed your eyes for a second and then opened them again, "Satoru…".

Gojo smiled devilishly as he kneaded the far of your butt. "fuck…". He muttered as he trailed another line of kisses down your neck but this time instead of moving down he moved to your shoulder and took the strap between his teeth and yanked it off your shoulders. He did the same with the other one and carried you to the leather bench between the two parts of the wardrobe.

The kiss turned aggressive as he laid you down. It was filled with pure want and both of you were high on each other's touch. "Don't hold those pretty sounds for me. I have waited too long to hear it". Gojo said as he continued kissing down your torso tugging down your bra and underwear in lieu.

"B..but…kei-".

"No one can hear you from this side". He kneeled down on the carpeted floor and pulled you to the edge locking your legs around his shoulder.

Before you could even question it his mouth was on your core and your words died between your moans. It had been so long since you had felt this way and you had never wanted any man other than the one kneeling between your legs. His tongue swiped up and down and you were already reaching the peak.

"Fuck!!". You screamed when he sucked on your bud making your legs twitch. "Oh fuck toru!!". Your back arched off the maroon couch and your nails dug in the plush leather.

Gojo was starving. He realized how starved he was when he got to taste you. It was a miracle how he lasted a year without this. He wanted so much more. Your moans and screams were music to his ear. Every time you took his name he got motivated to do better. He sucked and slurped like a savage man not letting a drop go by. All of this was meant for him. All of you was meant for him and this time…god save those who dare take this away from him.

His tongue darted inside and his thumb played with the bud for its own pleasure. You opened your mouth as you felt the tidal wave washing over you. This feeling was beautiful and within seconds you were transcended into another plane where only pleasure existed. You threw your head back and heaved as you came back down but Gojo had other plans. More like he had no plan on stopping as continued ravishing you.

As soon as your essence touched his tongue he let out a heavenly moan. The room was filled with the sinful slurping noises and Gojo went back in for more. His brows scrunched up in focus, eyes lidded in pleasure, lips covered in your essence, he was going insane. The insanity, the dark side, that he has hidden so well from you was now on the surface. You were his. He didn't care how many rules he had to break but you belonged to him and no one could take you away. Not his past, not your doubts, not even god.

He could feel you tighten around his tongue and smiled like a maniac as he wrote his name on you. He moaned and tightened his grip around you when he felt you cum again. Only he can do this. Only he can make you cum like this. Only he is worthy of this. Only he has the right to do this.

When he stood up, the sight in front of him made his heart beat faster. Your body glistened with a thin coating of sweat. Your hair is splayed out by your face. You were heaving with your eyes closed and brows knitted together.

He took his pants and boxers off on one go and hovered over you with his one knee digging in the couch between your legs and the other firmly on the ground. He leaned down with his hands pressed by your side and bent down to kiss the frown line. "You okay, love?".

You opened your eyes slowly and nodded your head. But you were not completely okay. You were faced with a situation you had never faced before. Gojo brought his one hand and caressed your cheek, "Do you want me to stop?". He asked. As much as he wanted this, nothing came before your pleasure and happiness.

You looked at him, "No.. it's just…".

Gojo frowned, something was bothering you. Now. "What is it? I'll fix it for you".

You blushed. "I…my…I haven't..". You closed your eyes and opened again."... I didn't feed Keisuke so my…I mean I feel…heavy".

Gojo smiled as he understood what you meant. "I'll take care of you. Just let me okay?".

You nodded your head and Gojo slid your hand up and held both of your hands above your head. He kissed you and spread your legs further with his knee. He kissed the valley between your breasts before attaching his lips on the left one. As soon as he took the perked up bud between his lips you felt you whimpered. Gojo was gentle but his gentleness made your brain go numb. He let go of your hand and wrapped his one arm around your waist and massaged your other breast with the free one.

"Ngh…toru!!". You purred as you felt a little pressure ease.

Gojo was lost in his own pleasure. He never knew he could be this close with you. He didn't want to stop. Didn't want to let go. He looked up at you through his pearly white lashes and felt a wave of satisfaction take over as he saw your mouth open wide and eyes closed too lost in pleasure.

He let go with a pop and kneeled between your legs. He bent down to place a soft kiss on your lips, letting you taste yourself. "You are so addictive". He whispered against your lips as his tip prodded your entrance.

"Satoru!". You winced.

Gojo cooed, "I'm right here. It'll be fine. Just look at me love".

You looked at him and sucked in a sharp breath as Gojo let you feel every inch of him. Your nails dug in his shoulder and the pain turned him on. He molded his lips to yours in a slow sensual kiss. He couldn't believe you were trusting him so much. You were letting him…allowing him to love you. To worship you. He felt honored.

This wasn't your first or even the second time having sex with Gojo but you could never get used to his size. He was hardly half way but you already felt so pleasantly stretched out. But he was going too slow for you so you broke the kiss and took his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged on them letting him know that you wanted him and you wanted him now.

Gojo got the message when he saw you with his lips tugged between your teeth and your doe eyes staring up at him through your lashes. When you let him go he smirked. "You're going to be the death of me".

He bottomed out and let out a groan when he felt you wrapped snugly around him. He stayed still for a while, letting you get used to him.

“Please…”. You whimpered.

Gojo smiled and started with shallow strokes. Your nails dug red crescent in his back. It was getting hard for him to maintain his composure. He picked up his pace and moaned in the crook of your neck. Moved down and attached his lips to your perked up tits. He sucked harshly and kneaded the other one as he continued to snap his hips against yours. It was too much, his lips on your full tits relieving you of the pressure, his perfect rhythm, his groans and moans. The room was filled with squelching and slurping noises mixed with moans and cuss words. The stimulation was driving you crazy.

"You taste so sweet". He said as he switched to the other one. He meant it when he said he was going to have you for himself. He could have cum right then and there sucking on your heavy tits.

Gojo was convinced he was in heaven. His back was decorated with red lines and nail marks, he could feel you tighten around him and moved up and held both of your hands above your head with one hand and supported himself on the other one. Your back arched off the leather couch and Gojo changed his pace to a more brutal one.

“You’re mine”. He spoke through gritted teeth. “All mine! Fuck! I won’t let you leave. No one else deserves you”. He confessed.

"ngh!!! Yes!!". You whimpered.

You were so close and so was Gojo. Gojo looked down at you, “Stay with me! Fuck please love! I..I fucking love you. We’ll make a perfect home! I’ll give you as many kids as you want! Oh god..I..grow old with you! I need you.. I need this fuck ”.

“Satoru! Oh God!” You screamed as you came but Gojo didn’t stop. He continued to pound through your orgasm and moaned your name as he felt your juices coat his cock buried deep inside.

You were still recovering when Gojo picked up pace again. “One more..”. He whispered.

“I..ca..can’t”. You choked out.

“Yes you can”. Gojo bent down and kissed your forehead. A sweet gesture to make up for his brutal pace. A new kind of pressure built up inside you. “See. such a good girl for me. He smiled. “Wanna feel you cum around my cock love. Missed this. Missed you”.

You gritted your teeth as your body moved in a perfect tandem. You looked at him, hair sticking to his forehead, washboard abs flexing every now and then. His biceps all pumped up and the veins of his hand popping up every time he flexed his arm. He was truly the most handsome man you had ever seen and he was here. With you. In you. You were sure that compared to him you looked like a hot mess but how could you talk down to yourself when he was muttering the most sinful and beautiful praises for you. Of course you could cum for him again. His thick length pumping inside you made your gut churn. He was so deep you could feel him in your stomach. "...missed you too". You confessed. "Fuck…you're…so fucking good oh god!".

"Yeah? I'll be good for you. My beautiful beautiful wife!". Hearing praises fall from your lips gave him added motivation to fuck you so good that you everytime you even looked at another guy all you would think about was him. He bent down wrapping a hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Cum for your sweet husband, yeah?”. He said as his pace faltered. He was close too.He looked down to where your bodies connected and gritted his teeth. He was one with you. He was your Satoru and you were his y/n .His new pace and dirty words opened the pleasure filled flood gates coating his entire torso with your juices. “Fuck yeah. That’s right. Squirt for me baby". He relished that moment. You were screaming his name, chanting it like you were lost in clouds and only he could bring you back to earth. With every snap of his hips more of your juices splattered into him.

"Fuck you’re so beautiful! Gonna fill you up good. ”. He muttered and sucked on your sensitive spot near your neck as he came inside you with a shudder.

Both of you stayed like that, relishing in the moment. His hands ran over your body as he continued tracing kisses everywhere he could. He wanted to extend this moment a little longer.

"You okay?". Gojo asked, pulling out slowly but still hovering over you. Peppering kisses on your forehead and nose.

You giggled. "Yeah".

Gojo smiled and got up to fetch a towel for you. You sat up straight and sighed at the mess the two of you made. Your cheeks flushed thinking about everything that happened seconds ago.

Gojo wrapped the towel around you and scooped you in his arms. "Whatcha thinking about?". He asked as she carried you to the bathroom.

"We made a mess".

Gojo chuckled. "You think too much. Let's get you cleaned up".

Your back rested against his chest as both of you sat in the bathtub. Gojo's arms were wrapped around you as he peppered kisses on your neck.

His one hand trailer down to your core and teased you. Gojo smirked against your skin when he felt your breath hitch.

"Satoru..". You murmered and craned your neck at the same time to give him more access.

"Stop teasing me" you whispered.

"Love...". He smiled as he gently nibbled on your ear lobe.

"I'm not teasing you. I'm just appreciating my wife".

You smirked and slid your hand under water to gently stroke his semi hard cock.

"Aah... who's teasing now?". Gojo hummed as he brought his hand down to gently squeeze your tits.

"I'm just appreciating my husband". You could feel him getting hard and smiled when you felt him whimpering against your neck.

"Fuck fuck. Stop teasing". Gojo mumbled when your thumb grazed the slit.

You pouted, "I told you I'm not teasing. Just appreciating my husband".

Gojo's hand moved from your core to your wrist and yanked your hand away. His other hand traveled to the front of your neck and he wrapped his fingers around it gently. Before you could say anything his tip was prodding at your entrance and in one swift motion Gojo had bottomed out. You grabbed the edge of the tub and choked out cuss words. Gojo's one hand wrapped around your waist and the one around your neck travels down and wrapped around your tits.

"You want to appreciate your husband?". Gojo cooed near your ear as he started moving slowly.

"Y..mmhmm yes". You whimpered.

"Then be my good little wife and let me feel you cum around my cock". He kissed your cheeks and picked up his pace. Water splashed down the sides but Gojo didn't care.

"Tell me you're mine. Tell me only I get to do this with you! Please!". Gojo winced when he felt you clench around him.

"I'm yours. Yours. Only ...only you can..fuck me ...ngh...like this!". You breathed out .

Gojo increased his pace and within minutes you were cuming with Gojo ."You look so beautiful". He said as he slowed down his pace. "I'll give you the world y/n". He kissed your cheeks softly.

-X-

You put your arm over his and snuggled into him. "I just want us to be safe and happy".

The whole day went by like a blur. You didn't remember a moment when Gojo did not have his arms around you. He didn't let you leave the bed. Whatever you wanted was brought to you. There was something different about him now. He seemed more frantic. Scared. Eager. Yet composed at the same time.

Gojo watched you fall asleep snuggled in his arms and he had never felt more powerful. He could watch you be you all day. The remnants of the morning's shenanigans evident on your neck and Gojo soothed it with his thumb. He replayed the moment in his head for the hundredth time that day, your monas ringing loud and clear in his head every time he rolled his hips into yours. But one thing is certain about power, that it doesn't last long.

His phone chimed indicating that he had received a message. He would have informed it but it was too late to be receiving any work related message. He rolled over partially with his one hand under your head and reached for the phone on his nightstand with the other one.

Yuri's name flashed on the screen. Gojo frowned. There could be no good reason why she would be texting him now. He opened the message and his eyes widened with shock. It was a photo. Of him and Yuri in the same bed, seemingly naked and He had his arms around her the same he had around you. Gojo's heart dropped. He got out of bed carefully and walked to the balcony.

He called her but she didn't answer. He called again and the message went straight to the voicemail.

Gojo cursed under his breath. The photo was fake for sure or was taken without his consent and was staged. But if by any chance it reached you then it would all be over.

Gojo : What do you want?

Yuri : I got your attention now

Gojo : The photo is fake. You know it!

Yuri : Is it?

Gojo frowned at the message for a while. Yuri sent him a video next and Gojo hit play with shaking hands. His mouth hung open as soon as he saw it. It was him and Yuri. He was asleep with his arms around her and she was taking a video of her kissing him on the cheeks. He was naked and she had the white silk sheet wrapped around her exposing only her bare shoulders.

Gojo : what the fuck is wrong with you! This never happened!

Yuri : Will y/n believe it? Should I send it to her now or deliver it in person?

Gojo stormed inside the bedroom and picked up your phone from the nightstand. He unlocked it and saw a message from the same number.

Yuri : Gotcha toru!

Gojo gritted his teeth and went back out. He called Yuri again but she cut the call.

Gojo : What do you want?

Yuri : I just want y/n to know the truth ,toru. She is such a sweet woman and it hurts me that her husband is lying to her.

Gojo closed his eyes and tears rolled down his cheeks. He collapsed on the chair and bit his lips harshly.

Gojo : Nothing happened between us and you know it. Why are you doing this to me?

Yuri : Are you sure nothing happened between us? You were heavily medicated at that time, maybe you just don't remember :)

Gojo : Stop playing with me and tell me what you want.

Yuri : I also have proof that Hiro shot himself.

Gojo's eyes widened.

Gojo : you're lying.

Yuri : Am I? Or did Hiro say for love before blowing his brains off?

Gojo stared at the text.

Yuri : I give you two options. 1) Divorce y/n then prove to her that you didn't kill Hiro. 2) Stay with her but I'll send her the video.

Gojo : I can't lose her. You know I can't.

Yuri : You'll live. You can always call me ;)

Gojo : I can have you killed right now!

Yuri : You can keep her phone and cut her off but you know that I'll always find a way. If I die then she dies.

Gojo clutched the phone tightly in his hand and hung his head. He was well aware of what Yuri could do. She can hurt you. He can't let that happen.

Yuri : If you even try to move her away I will either kill her and that baby of yours or I will send her the video. It all depends on how charitable I'm feeling.

Gojo : You have a problem with me. Do not bring y/n and Keisuke into this. If you try to touch a hair on them I will have you skinned alive.

Yuri : Whatever you do to me I'll do to her. You have one week to decide :)

@hiqhkey @chemtrails-club @simplyrosesxr @foggyperfectiondragon @sofi786 @vesta-ro @kimvmarvel @mykyoon @shintin @attackonsimpp @pyschopotatomeme @lilith412426 @shuxjodie @sagejin @cloudsinthecosmos @hecateria @froggylust @lightblueexorcist @watyousayin @creolequeen11210 @s13nnnna @shartnart1 @the-crane-wives @musababy @loquia @ackerstain @allofffmypeaches @regalillegal @erintaro @commandertorinshepard @gojo-sunglasses @tspice283 @iam-mia9 @screwyou3 @denypipa @smolkazumi @winter-bearv @mc-reborn @pangolynnn @sindela @daintyazra @purpleguk @iam-mia9 @sammyiguess @ritsatoru @5seos @kirby-star @vr00m-vr00m @qualitygiantshoepsychic @littlemochabunni

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young-royals-confessions · 2 months

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funnily enough, season 3 changed how i view and write the royal family. and i mean every single member lmao

erik was not as perfect or as kind as a lot of us hoped for as and wille believed. he could be cruel and was likely just as unhappy as wille was as crown prince. he was just more willing and skilled at hiding it. this kind of creates an interesting view into how their sibling dynamic was so different from their actual selves. or at least it was for erik. in my mind, erik grew up knowing he was going to take over the throne and therefore felt like he kind of had to split himself off into different personas-showing a different part of who he really was to certain people so that everyone could stay in his corner (like a good king would i guess). so much so that no one, not even his parents or wille or august, can ever get a true grasp on who erik was.

wille didn’t grow up like that. he grew up very similarly, but he didn’t have the expectation of ruling an entire country. he was more of a “what if” and “just to be safe” option. he was an afterthought, and rather than split his personality into different pieces of himself, he instead became more of a recluse who yearns for love but never receives it in the way he needs. so he is only ever fully himself when he’s around people who can reciprocate his yearning for kindness and care. the people who he feels safe with. erik was that for him even though erik, unbeknownst to him, wasn’t who he really thought. and simon eventually became that safety net as well. but by that time he had become crown prince. and to be the crown prince, he was gonna have to adapt like erik had. and wille was never good at pretending for the sake of others, so the crown prince persona ended up intruding onto the real wille until simon could no longer recognize him.

kristina is neglectful and ludvig is a silent passenger in it all. these are things i already knew but i feel like season 3 gave me so much more to work with in terms of their family dynamic. wille loves them both and was going crazy with guilt at the thought of kristina’s mental health deteriorating because of him. wille blames himself a lot, which makes me believe that the two of them had no problem doing that before. blaming wille for scandals or tiny mistakes he made. so much so that wille ended up convincing himself that everything that goes wrong is somehow his fault. just bad bad parents. do i think they love wille? yea im sure they do, but the crown clearly comes first for them and wille honestly deserves so much better. he deserves to be loved in a way that is reciprocal and not based on condition. kristina loved erik so much because erik wasn’t just her firstborn but was also the perfect crown prince. he listened and followed order and played puppet. wille was obviously much more difficult, and since she couldn’t show her love for him by praising his behavior, she just didn’t show him it

#young royals #yr s3 spoilers #fic writing #wilhelm #erik young royals #queen kristina #ludvig young royals

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peakotp · 20 days

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Willie’s Month Day 7 / Erik

A late night conversation about Erik. Still no answers.

Snapshots from a post-finale alternate universe in which Wilhelm never got out of the car. Today's prompt from @youngroyals-events: Erik.

Read at AO3 or below the cut.

Hillerska’s appeal stalls after another explosive article. There are new accounts of violent and degrading initiations, made worse by evidence the administration ignored the few students who’d dared speak up. The latest allegations predate Erik, but the original article’s claims about his own Hillerska days swirl back into the headlines nonetheless. Wilhelm is aware endless emergency PR meetings are being held, he’s just not invited to join them.

Being excluded from the damage control meetings does nothing to stop Wilhelm thinking about Erik and August’s initiation. Erik and August’s questionably genuine reassurances. Wilhelm hasn’t stopped thinking about any of it since last spring, and all that time he’s known there’s someone else he could ask about Erik. Someone more trustworthy than August. One night, halfway home from an engagement in Linköping and with no one else in the car, he finally dares. He’s not sure how to start, there’s no good way. He probably shouldn’t be asking at all, shouldn’t be putting her in the middle of this. But no one else knew Erik the same way.

“Did Erik know about Agnes?”

Wilhelm’s only known about Agnes since this summer. Since Malin let slip her vacation plans included a visit to her wife’s hometown. Wilhelm’s never been sure whether it was an accidental revelation or an intentional offering, but since then he’s made sure to inquire after Agnes and Malin has always seemed comfortable answering. But this is a rather different kind of question.

“Yes.” Malin’s eyes stay fixed to the road. “We were already married when I joined his detail.”

Wilhelm isn’t sure how to ask the next question. And even if he did ask and Malin told him Erik never said anything homophobic to her, what would that even tell him? That Erik knew better than to be shitty to his staff or within their earshot? Maybe he needs to step back and go at this from a different angle.

“The things they said in the press… the Hillerska initiations. While Erik was there. Did you… know about any of it?”

The change in topic seems to take Malin by surprise. She shakes her head.

Of course not. Another stupid question. Of course Erik would have ditched his protection officers before heading off into the woods to haze August and his classmates. Of course Erik wouldn’t have said a word to any outsiders, even the outsiders always by his side.

Malin clears her throat, her eyes still resolutely forward. “I did read those articles. And while I didn’t know anything then… I would believe it. Not of Erik, I hope. But that group of boys, his class, some were pretty rotten. From what I saw. He wasn’t the worst of them, not by far. But… the things I read, I can believe some of those boys would have done.”

Wilhelm realizes the bravery Malin is showing by speaking so freely. She deserves equal honesty from him. “Erik was there,” he says quietly. “August told me. It was true about the movies – the gay porn – and making the first years strip to see if they’d react. And August said Erik was there.”

Malin is silent, but Wilhelm recognizes the set of her jaw. The taut grip of her hands on the steering wheel. Malin’s poker face is leagues beyond his, but it does have limits. She does have tells.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Malin finally responds.

Wilhelm is hit by a rush of guilt. He’d been so focused on what he might be able to learn from Malin, he hadn’t considered he might be the one breaking unwelcome news.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, Kronprins. I wondered, too.”

“Wilhelm, please.” Tonight probably isn’t the night to keep waging that war. Or maybe it’s exactly the night, because Malin needs to understand he’s only Erik’s brother right now, not the Crown Prince. Not any part of the court’s damage control effort.

“You asked about Agnes, earlier. Whether Erik knew.”

Wilhelm nods, half-ashamed for having gone about the conversation that way. For having dragged Malin’s own life into this.

“Erik was always respectful. Always friendly to his guards, always wanting to know about our families. He found out about Agnes pretty soon after I started working with him, and he was as kind about her as he was about Joakim’s wife. So if you were asking whether Erik ever said anything, whether he ever acted like it mattered to him that I was gay, the answer is no. He never said anything like that.”

Malin’s words are slow and careful, and Wilhelm hears the unspoken gaps between them.

“But not saying anything doesn’t tell us much, does it?” He finally answers.

“No, it doesn’t.”

There’s another long silence, then a sigh from Malin.

“Your brother was very good at making friends. He could charm anyone. But he didn’t like to argue, didn’t like conflict. Those awful boys in his class, he never took them seriously, their behavior. He didn’t want to know, sometimes. Those things they wrote about the initiation, I don’t think he could have been in charge. I just can’t see him organizing any of it. But if August says he was there… I can believe that. I can believe Erik… stood idly by. Unfortunately.”

It’s not the last time they will discuss it. In time, more information will come out. From August, from other students. The truth will never be clear. The truth will always be broader and more complicated than what Erik did or didn’t do that one night. Malin will remind Wilhelm that Erik was eighteen then, and that she watched him change a lot in the ensuing years; that he would have kept on evolving if granted the chance.

Eventually, Wilhelm will accept he’s still allowed to miss his brother, even knowing all this; still allowed to love Erik while wishing he’d been better, braver, stronger. If only your brother could have been more like you, Wilhelm.

Notes: A conversation originally planned for a different (yet to be written) story, but fitting the vibe of this one much better. (Translation: depressing as hell.)

Teeny-tiny Veronica Mars quote if you squint.

#willemonth2024 #young royals #wilmon #crown prince wilhelm #yr ficlet #yr fic #yr fanfiction

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maccreadysbaby · 3 months

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A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

yall are gonna hate me in a few chapters

part twenty-four

❝ BREAKOUT ❞

SUNDAY — AUGUST 16 — 8:58PM

BY SUNDAY NIGHT, IT WAS SAFE TO SAY THAT BENTLEY WAS JUST A LITTLE, ITTY-BITTY, TEENY-WEENY BIT PISSED.

Five days. Five whole days and still, Tim, Damian, and Jason were nothing more than human-shaped lumps of misery in the cave.

Dick, a conscious human-shaped lump of misery, was now probably the least Dick Grayson-ish Bentley had ever seen him. He seemed to float between the Manor and the cave on autopilot, his ocean blue eyes more of a murky, stagnant lake. Dick Grayson, the silence-filling extraordinaire, had been talking less and less until it tapered off to nothing. Bentley hadn’t heard him say a word since Friday morning in the cave.

I hate this. I can't handle it anymore, Babybird.

Those were the last words Dick Grayson said before he fell into a state Steph softly described as nonverbal.

She said it was common, especially with Dick, to go silent when he was overwhelmed. It had happened on several occasions before — occasions she seemed to be purposefully vague about. And now it was happening to him again. The very last glimmer of hope in the Manor died when Dick Grayson became nothing more than blank stares and sign language.

Jason, on Saturday morning, ramped his screaming and thrashing back up to a one hundred, and even busted one of the leather straps on his arms. He kept rotating through the same various shouts: I’ll kill you. Get away from me. B. Batman. Bruce. Dad. I don’t want to die. Repeat.

Bentley had spent most of the time when Jason wasn’t screaming struggling through the pages of Pride and Prejudice, hoping that maybe some distant part of his mind could hear the familiar words. Bentley couldn’t imagine writhing under the weight of his own mind, being stuck in his head, unable to escape like a Robin in a cage. Like Jason was.

Damian still hadn’t moved an inch, besides his hands that would twitch and curl every now and then. Given what little Bentley knew about his past (and the abundance of other things he could’ve been seeing), he assumed twitching was a pretty minimal response. Or maybe the only response Damian allowed himself to have.

Bentley hadn’t heard much about the League of Assassins, but Damian had mentioned before that failure brought punishment. And it hurt Bentley’s heart just a little to see that his endless training to have no reaction to physical or mental pain seemed to stem all the way into his unconsciousness.

On Saturday night, Bentley noticed the palm of Damian’s right hand bleeding from the force of his fingernails against his skin. His hands were moving in a familiar manner that Bentley only recognized then — that Damian was clutching onto a sword that didn’t exist. At that time, Bentley was the only one in the cave, and his first instinct to make Damian stop hurting himself was to put his own hand in the way.

Now, he had three Wonder Woman bandaids on the back of his hand where Damian’s nails had dug in.

Tim had become a level of bedridden Bentley didn’t even know existed — a type of bedridden where he became less Tim and more bed. He was only able to keep himself conscious for small spurts at a time, usually to take medicine or throw up or drink what little water Bruce could get into him. But, on the bright side, his fever had dropped to a hundred and two. Small mercies.

Bentley was at least glad he wasn’t being tormented by the Secret Keeper. But even then, he had only been working so hard because of the people she killed, which, in turn, made it all her fault, actually.

The Wayne family was in a state of disarray Bentley didn’t even know was possible. Patrol had been dropped in favor of caring for the ones in the medbay. School was nothing but a fleeting memory — it hadn’t been mentioned since Tuesday. Everyone was in the Manor but it felt like no one at all, like they were all trapped in some dark tunnel they would never see the end of. Like John Whittaker’s wish that the Wayne Dynasty would crumble was coming to fruition right before their eyes.

Who gave the Secret Keeper the right to do that to them? Who gave her the authority to destroy Bentley’s family from the inside out? And for what? For fun? Entertainment?

Bentley was pissed about it.

Wholeheartedly, entirely, absolutely pissed.

It was after dinner on Sunday night, and he was cooped up in the den with Dick, Duke, Steph, and Cass, watching some random Disney movie on a low volume. No one was really watching. Their eyes may have been on the screen, but he could practically see their minds wandering behind them. He didn’t blame them, his mind was wandering, too. Mostly concerning the fact that he felt like he wanted to, like, burn down a house or something.

Bentley had never been one for anger before. He was always too afraid of his father to be mad, too scared, too upset. He never had anything to fight for like he did now — like the Wayne’s. He never had anything to protect, nothing to be so utterly hell-bent on keeping in one piece. He’d been feeling it for a while, that little inkling that made him want to commit arson every time something happened to one of them.

Instead of burning down someone’s house, he wanted to end the Secret Keeper.

Which was exactly why, for the first time in five days, he texted Asten and Nico back.

The group-chat had basically imploded on itself in Bentley’s absence. He had well over two-hundred texts in that group alone, not counting the questioning from both Asten and Nico individually. Was he sick? Was he alive? Why weren’t Damian or Duke at school? Had he been murdered? Was he missing? Should they call the cops?

I’m ready to go to the cabin was the vague and pretty random text they got from Bentley at nine on Sunday night.

Asten was quick to reply: JESUS dude. I thought you were DEAD dead.

OMG YOURE ALIVE!!!!! was the text he got from Nico.

Secret Keeper again, he sent. And then, in a separate message: I’m ready to destroy her now.

Hell yeah! Was Asten’s next text. I’m so down. Can you both get out of your houses tonight? Preferably without anyone noticing? And stay out of them for a few days?

Stay out of the house for a few days? He hadn’t really thought about that, though he guessed it made sense — a secret plan to take out a supervillain was likely to take a while. But the Wayne’s couldn’t have a clue what was going on; they’d end it. Coming and going from the Manor would be too risky. So… that meant Bentley would probably have to do what he’d failed so miserably at the first time.

Run away. Again.

Which he pretended he didn’t feel bad about. As soon as he was out of the Manor, he’d have to commit — no turning back, no running home until the Secret Keeper was down. It was the only way to do it without anyone finding out.

But, if he went missing now… the Wayne’s would think the Secret Keeper got him, wouldn’t they?

Bentley glanced down at his legs. Dick’s head was laying there, and though his breathing was soft and his eyes were closed, Bentley knew he wasn’t asleep. The child had been playing with his hair for a while now — it seemed to be the only thing that could take the tension out of his older brother’s shoulders anymore.

Was destroying the Secret Keeper really worth the pain it might cause them? Thinking that she got him? That he might be dead? Was it worth the people that cared about him most thinking that he was killed?

What if he actually didn’t come home?

He ended up having to shove that train of thought deep down into his Puppeteer door and locked it away. If he thought about it too much, he’d feel guilty, and wouldn’t be able to go on with the plan like he said he would.

I can make it happen, he sent to the group, careful to keep one hand on Dick’s head so he didn’t get suspicious.

My parents are going to die, Nico said.

Asten replied: We can’t bring our phones — they can be tracked. You’ll have to delete this text thread before you leave. Nico, bring your camera.

Oh, God. They were really doing this, weren’t they? Bentley glanced up at the other Wayne’s in the den, faces illuminated by the firelight, like they could read his mind. None of them seemed to be.

Every police officer in Gotham is going to look for us, my parents will make sure of that, Nico texted. Bentley cringed at the thought. At least most of his Vigilante family wouldn’t be patrolling, right?

Bentley typed a quick: You don’t have to come.

I'm coming, was Nico’s reply.

Asten finalized: We’ll meet at Nico’s house at midnight. No phones. Bring what you think you’ll need, I’ll handle the rest. Don’t say a word. Vamos matar essa vadia.

Bentley glanced around him, at Steph on his right and Dick on his lap, staring blankly at the television. This was going to be worth it. It had to.

“Dick?” He whispered, leaning forward the slightest bit, just far enough to catch the older boy’s eyes when they flicked open. He didn’t speak, but he lifted his hands subtly, moving them in carefully trained motions.

Yes?

Bentley breathed in and out. “I’m going to go back downstairs,” He whispered. “I just didn’t want to shove you around if you were sleeping.”

Dick replied with a nod, sitting up just far enough for Bentley to maneuver out from under him. The child shuffled off the couch and stood, glancing back at Dick Grayson’s ocean-but-more-like-a-lake blue eyes.

There was… there might’ve been… an actual chance he would never come home.

He moved forward, gently wrapping his arms around Dick’s neck. “I love you.”

Dick hugged him back tight, maybe not as enthusiastically as normal, but with just as much love.

Bentley had to keep himself moving, or he’d think about the possibility of death and psyche himself out. So he reluctantly peeled himself away from Dick and fought the urge to give everybody hugs. (He knew that would be too suspicious, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to.)

With a breath in, he left the den and floated down to the cave.

Bruce and Alfred were both down there. The latter was still working at the various testing machines, while the former was between Tim and Jason’s hospital beds, still looking torn about what spot in the room he took. There was an empty chair between Jason and Damian’s beds that Bentley had seen Bruce in not too long ago. Jason wasn’t screaming, but he was wiggling around quite a bit. The other two were still.

The Bat knew he was in the cave before Bentley even knew he knew.

“Bentley,” Bruce greeted lowly, turning from the hospital beds toward the entrance of the cave, where the child was just standing. Nowadays, his gray eyes seemed to just get more dull. “Are you guys done watching movies?”

Bentley shrugged, padding into the medbay, fiddling with the band-aids on his hand from where Damian’s grip had made him bleed. Tim’s Wonder Woman pajamas had been replaced with some old sailboat ones of Jason’s. “Just coming to check on them.”

Bruce’s eyes drifted back to the trio of beds, and he sighed softly. “No changes.”

Bentley glanced at each of them, then back at Bruce, who leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his nose. Body language that indicated stress, Bentley noted.

He moved forward slowly, coming to a stop next to Bruce’s chair, glancing at Tim and Jason. “Are you okay?”

The question was aimed at Bruce, who glanced at Bentley at the same time he looked at him.

“Of course,” Was Bruce’s reply, and his hand drifted up, landing on Bentley’s back.

Bentley shook his head. “You don’t have to be.”

If there was anything Bentley had learned since he moved in with the Wayne’s, it was that he didn’t need to keep everything to himself. That he could cry and stuff like his father never let him. So why, when it came back to the Wayne’s, did they seem to do exactly the opposite? Hold it in until they broke, like Tim, like Damian, like Dick?

Bruce graced him with a vague semblance of a smile that left as quickly as it came. “You’re one smart boy, you know that?”

Bentley said nothing. In all of his (limited) days, he had never ever been called smart. Stupid, dumb, worthless, and everything in between, but never smart.

“And I think…” Bruce’s eyes trailed over to Tim, Damian, and Jason. “That I might be cold.”

Bentley blinked, and then hauled himself into the man’s embrace without question.

Bruce’s arms closed around him, protecting him from probably anything in the entire world, and Bentley sighed lightly. “I think everyone’s kinda cold.”

“I think you’re right,” Bruce replied, glancing between his three unconscious sons.

The family was so cold they might just turn to ice if one more bad thing happened. Like Bentley seemingly going missing.

Was his escape plan really worth it?

—

When he woke up in Bruce’s arms, it was silent.

He didn’t remember falling asleep there, but it wasn’t a surprise, really. He had quite a bad habit of falling asleep when people held him.

Nothing was different from when he fell asleep — the trio was still unconscious, Alfred was still testing, and Bruce was still dull and cold. The only thing that looked the slightest bit different was the glow from the Batcomputer that hadn’t been on before. Barbara must’ve come to work on cases for a while, though she wasn’t there now.

“Hey, bud,” Bruce whispered, and Bentley felt his hand moving subtly on the back of his head. “You can sleep — I’ve got you.”

For a moment, Bentley almost just obeyed. It was tempting. But he knew that if he didn’t make himself get up and go, he wouldn’t, and he couldn’t leave Asten and Nico hanging.

So, instead, he fished his phone out of his pants pocket and checked the time. 11:14pm. Asten wanted them to meet at midnight.

Bentley rubbed his eyes and glanced up at Bruce, blinking a few times, then wiggling out of his arms. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go check on Dick.”

Bruce rubbed his back as he stood. “Okay. Text me if you decide not to come back down.”

Bentley’s words seemed to taste funny when he lied, and the sour on his tongue only got worse when Bruce replied with no suspicion. With trust — he believed him.

The child pushed himself across the Batcave, fighting away the questions of was it worth it the whole way.

Well, until he stopped at the Batcomputer.

The screen was on with two pictures on it — pictures of metahuman villains from recent patrols. The Secret Keeper was one of them, staring into Bentley’s soul with her amber eyes and stitched grin. It simply said The Secret Keeper below her picture.

There was a picture of another girl with black hair and what looked to be purple eyes next to her. Beneath her photo it said The Void. Bentley remembered watching the patrol where they fought her a few weeks ago, before everything got really bad. She could make portals and send whatever she wanted wherever she wanted. (Then came the debacle of getting Duke home from Austrailia — Bentley would never forget that.)

He quietly wondered why they were both up on the screen.

And then the screen went off.

Bentley whipped around, meeting the tired green eyes of Barbara rolling out from another room in the cave. “I think you’ve seen quite enough of her, squirt.”

He said nothing, but glanced back at the blank screen. “Sorry.”

Barbara rolled past him in her wheelchair. “No sweat.”

Bentley continued upstairs without another word, carrying himself, not to the den where he told Bruce he was going, but up to his room instead. Asten said for him to bring what he thought he’d need. What did he need for chasing down a supervillain?

Well, first things first — he needed to not be wearing pajamas. He closed and locked his door up tightly, changing into jeans, a hoodie, and a jacket. His phone said it was in the fifties outside, which definitely wouldn’t be super fun, but would probably be bearable.

Asten’s rule was that he had to delete the text thread and leave his phone behind. So he did so, and left his phone on his bed, out in the open.

He didn’t really need anything, did he? There wasn’t anything for him to bring — all he had were clothes and school supplies and toys. Maybe some of Batman’s gadgets would be useful, but stealing from the cave when he was trying to be incognito was a hard pass.

Really, all that was left would be to make it out of the Manor.

He couldn’t go out the window again. He’d have to make a new shoelace rope, and he had to make the Wayne’s think he was missing, not that he’d run away. So, there was only one obvious choice left. With everyone distracted and in varying states of consciousness, not being their typical superhero detective selves, Bentley would go out the front door.

It wasn’t the best for someone who was trying to sneak out undetected, but it would have to do. Alfred and Bruce were in the cave with Jason, Tim, and Damian, and the rest were in the den distracted by a movie. If he could be deathly quiet, he could do it.

So, with that settled, Bentley opened his bedroom door again. The hallway felt stuffier this time. Was risking his life worth it?

Breaking the Secret Keeper’s hold on his family? Stopping the downward spiral?

Yes. It was worth it.

That was the thought process that kept Bentley padding down the hall in his gross red tennis shoes from his father. He’d been sure to thoroughly hide his pajamas in hopes they would think he was really missing. He’d taken the most inconspicuous clothes from his wardrobe, in case they checked it for empty spaces. It ended up being an old black jacket of Dick’s and a blue hoodie that he was pretty sure had been Tim’s.

It was worth it for them.

He tip-toed down the staircase silently, skipping the creaky sixth and twelfth steps on purpose, before he came to rest on the floor of the entryway.

He could hear the movie playing in the den, but everything else was still. Silent.

Nico’s house was pretty much a straight shot from the Manor — they saw it every day on the way to and from school. If he went straight, he’d make it.

He inched himself toward the front door. The giant wooden mass was more than a little daunting right now, like it would break and tell everyone what he was planning.

It was worth it to save them.

His hand was suddenly on the lock, twisting it until it clicked.

He had to save his family.

He twisted the door handle until the cool August breeze flooded inside, chilling him to the bone.

Bentley closed the door, and he ran. Just like he did the first time. Through the courtyard, down the driveway, shoving himself through the bars of the main gate just like he did last year.

Bentley didn’t know it then, but the moment he stepped foot outside of Wayne Manor marked the beginning of what would become the most traumatic few days of his entire life.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

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