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[roseykat]

TITLE: Foul Play

PAIRING: Seungmin x f!reader

SUMMARY: A couple of weeks after hooking up with your professor's tutor Seungmin, the repercussions from that evening start to take its effect.

WC: 6716

PART 1 - Don't bite the hand that feeds you

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @princejisung @yakosobaboba 🩷

SPOILER TAGS BELOW THE CUT

swearing, unexpected pregnancy, suggestive content but not smut based at all.

“…hence why I am positive that you will all submit your assignments on time by this Friday. Extensions will only be granted should you provide damning evidence that you’re either dying or sick. Until then, I’ll see you on Wednesday,” the lecturer’s voice booms throughout her large class, filled to capacity. 

‘Sick’ was a lesser form of a word to sum up how you had been feeling this entire week. The stress of navigating your studies began to douse the dwindling embers of motivation you had left in the tank to keep persevering towards the end of this semester. Yet, above all else, there was a looming nervousness in your stomach. 

One that could only arise from the prospect of heading to your tutorial straight after your lecture. A tutorial taught by a person who you had learned to despise with the way he treats you - or at least treated you since the last class with him was to leave a permanent mark etched in your memory forever. Even thinking about it zaps you with an interesting feeling as you revisit what occurred on that desk he sits behind.  

However, you haven’t been back since, but not because you didn’t want to. But because there had been no tutorials in the past two weeks, leaving you with some time to pick your energy back up and pull yourself over the line for the next upcoming load of work.

With a solid amount of time to head across campus and directly to the room, you took pride in adopting the pace of a snail and walking slowly. There was no need to rush and the impending awkwardness waiting for you to face didn’t need to arrive any sooner until it was time to actually be seated and ready for the two hour session. 

As he usually is, Seungmin was inside first to greet his students that stroll through his door with a dry tone. His trendy black glasses sit perched on the bridge of his nose as he flicks through the pages of handouts, counting to make sure he has enough for the numbers in his class. Taking advantage of the fact that he was distracted, you find a group of students to tag behind so as to not walk in alone. That way he wouldn’t notice you as much, even though he very much did. 

No eye contact, pretending as if he didn’t exist, trying to appear busy, and look as if you were in a hurry. All the signs you showed of trying to ignore him were so obvious that the corner of his mouth quirked up when he watched you sit down. His eyes remain on you completely, waiting for you to glance up at him even in the slightest. But you keep your cool from start to finish, throughout the entire duration of his tutorial that he stands up to run. 

For the whole of the class however, you couldn’t help but wonder if he thought about the other week too. Did he reminisce on how he bent you over the desk he teaches from in front of his students? Did he think about how hasty he was in trying to rip your panties off to eat you out? Did he think about the fact that he wanted to fuck you? 

Did he think twice about saying to you that he had waited a long time to do this…

“You can go now,” a voice calls out, making you jolt in your own seat. It was like waking up from a dream where you were falling from the sky, only you weren’t asleep and were very much awake with no sense of time that had passed. 

You look up towards the sound of the person that so rudely uproots you from your own thoughts, Seungmin. The person you didn’t want to take notice of you or make eye contact with for fear that he was going to approach you. At that point you wished he would just go back to ignoring you rather than hear him speak directly to you. 

“Right,” you reply, incredibly flustered while you scramble to grab your belongings and make haste to get to the door. 

“Y/N,” Seungmin calls out. 

Your stomach flips. 

Similar to what it’s been like first thing in the morning every now and then. It’s patently obvious who he’s talking to as you try and rush out behind the herd of students that are eager to head home. You could’ve played it off as if you didn’t hear him, but the fact that you were planted to the ground before the doorframe gave away the fact that you did.

“Yeah?”

“This is yours,” he stands up from the desk and walks over with some papers in a clear file pocket, handing it over to you. 

You look down at the title and the date printed on the first page. It was the assignment you so desperately needed him to check for weeks but never would for whatever stubborn reason. But that wasn’t the problem, given that the practice assignment he held was from over a week ago now had absolutely no relevance to you whatsoever. Because of him, you had to submit the work unchecked by a tutor which isn’t required per se, but lecturers have always stressed that it should be. 

However, the level of his audacity to hand it back now shoved every fear of awkwardness you thought was going to happen from the past few hours, right out of your brain. 

You scoff, snatching it rudely from his possession, “thanks. It would’ve been so much more useful had you marked it before I had to hand it in a week ago.” 

“Just doing what I do best apparently,” Seungmin shrugs, completely unbothered by the venom in your voice.

“Which is also apparently your worst,” you sigh. 

He raises his eyebrows as he watches you scrunch your assignment up and throw it in the bin beside the door, “I did tell you how stubborn you can be right?”

“Don’t recall that sorry.”

“Okay,” he responds sarcastically, rolling his eyes and just about laughing. “Suppose you don’t recall moaning out my name on that desk over there but here we are.”

Your cheeks heat up furiously, just as much as your anger starts to boil, “is that all you wanted to say?” 

“If you’re not going to continue acting the way you are to me, then no, that’s not all I wanted to say. In fact I have a question for you,” Seungmin responds before pausing and looking past you towards the door frame. “But I might have to ask you about it next time.”

Standing underneath it was someone he hadn’t seen before. He’s not one of his students, nor is he the next tutor to come in and take over the room for a different course. It left one very obvious answer. 

You pursue Seungmin’s eye line to see Felix smiling back at you, “sorry, usually we finish ten minutes early…”

“That’s okay,” he says kindly. “Just came to collect you. Lunch?”

The saving grace that Felix bestows allows you to leave Seungmin’s presence without another foul word to come out of his mouth. The pair of you walk to one of the many fields that the University has to offer to sit down and hang out together.

“What was he talking to you about?” Felix starts. 

You lie back on the fresh grass, absorbing the rays of the warm sun that has the ability to make your eyelids droopy, “he gave me back my practice assignment for him to check that was due last week.”

“Really?” Felix replies, gobsmacked as he takes a bite out of his sandwich. “What an idiot.”

You roll your eyes just thinking about him, “very much so.”

“Why aren’t you eating?” Lix grumbles with a mouthful of food. 

“Can’t,” you respond with a note of solemn in your voice. “Been pretty sick lately” 

“What, like ‘throwing up’ type of ‘sick’?” He mumbles. 

“That type of ‘sick’,” you confirm. 

“Might be stress from Uni. Jeongin said the other day that he’s been unwell lately because of exams next week but I don’t think he’s been throwing up.”

“Seriously?” You ask, feeling a bit concerned when he tells you that bit of information. “Maybe it’s also food poisoning, but I don’t have any other symptoms that come with it.”

“Could be,” Felix responds then readies his soundproof advice. “What you need to do is go to the student health services for a doctor's appointment. Or even the student nurse. Because you don’t want to leave it to the last minute come crunch time for handing stuff in and you’re still ill.”

He had a point. You could already imagine what the final week of the first semester was going to be like. Just visualising the due dates for work, papers and essays that needed to be submitted is already putting a hamper on your mood. 

For once however, you made your well being the first priority instead of the mountain of tasks you needed to complete. ‘University can wait, but your health cannot’ as Felix said who made sure you at least called into the chemist on your way back home to grab some medicine until you were able to get in and see a doctor. He would’ve forced you through their doors himself if he didn’t have a test to sit but nonetheless did his best by walking you nearby and heading off when he needed to. 

Greeted by one of the chemists in the store, you begin to explain everything that’s happened over the past two weeks in regard to your body. The headaches, stress, nausea, the lot, all in the hopes to find some type of relief or remedy. 

“And these symptoms have persisted for how long?” She asks.

“Just over a week now,” you reply. 

“Okay, and are you currently pregnant or is there any chance you could be?” She questions while leading you down an aisle of medicine. 

Before replying ‘no’ your mouth and brain stall at the same time. Pregnant? Is there a chance? No. There shouldn’t be. Yes you had sex two weeks ago, but there wasn’t in any way or any universe that you were currently carrying a child. There was no reason to go anywhere near along those lines of an assumption or put in any thought to it. 

“Uh - I…no. Don’t think so,” you stammer. 

The chemist eyes you for a second, trying to gauge her best answer from you and picks up a small packaged bottle, “this is safe to use even if you are pregnant since the prescribed millilitres are the same for that of someone who isn’t. We get a lot of students coming in around this time with the same issues when it’s close to the end of the semester so there could be a number of things going on.”

“I’d imagine,” you respond. “Thank you for this, I’ll have another browse for some other things and come back soon.”

She smiles back as you depart from the aisle with the medicine in hand. From there, it’s impossible not to start freaking out. Your mind speeds through so many different avenues and possibilities of why you were sick. The very one that springs up is pregnancy. It was torment enough that you had to pull out your phone and google its symptoms. There can’t be any way. 

Nausea and vomiting that usually occur in mornings,

Missed period,

Fatigue,

Headaches…

The list was short but nonetheless went on to describe everything that you had been dealing with for the past two weeks. It had to be a coincidence. Maybe it’s something else that you might have like these other students who’ve been dealing with the same thing? It’s just the stress. Only the stress. Yet, you find yourself reaching for a pregnancy test from the shelf and bringing it back with you in the hopes that the money you’re about to spend is going to give you a negative result when you return to your dorm.

The chemist says nothing else to you as you make your purchases which you appreciate. The last thing you need right now is for someone to say ‘all the best’ or ‘must’ve been a good time,’ whenever they look at someone buying a pregnancy test. You just wanted to go home and rule everything out straight away so the nerves could stop eating you alive. 

As you walked back to the student accommodation, it felt like you were wearing a clown mask and everyone was looking at you. Even though you didn’t know that they didn’t take any notice of you whatsoever, that’s what it felt like. 

Straight through the doors to the building you go and right to your floor. You key in your code to get into your room and shut the door behind you. Finally you were able to feel like you could breathe a little better, just before the four walls enclosing you began caving in. 

Everything seemed hazy and uncertain as the question of whether you are pregnant kept popping up in your head. What would happen then? There was no plan other than to finish the year and graduate with your degree, go on to work and hopefully live a fulfilling life with kids somewhere along the way - not now. Not even in the next three years was that an option. 

But out of all the mangled and mixed thoughts that have sent your brain on a spin, not once did you ever think of the culprit who without, wouldn’t have you currently spiralling into an abyss of anxiety. 

Fucking Seungmin. 

Even when he’s not here he’s still an insufferable asshole that has landed you in this position. If you are pregnant, you know it’s him. There wasn’t anyone else you had slept with in the past four months other than him. It made matters even worse tenfold - the fact that he’s practically a stranger to you. All you know is his name and how shitty of an attitude he has. 

But that wasn’t something you could afford to think about. Not right now. Giving yourself one thing else extra to worry about would make you feel even more sick. All you needed to do was get through this pregnancy test and figure out the rest later. 

After making sure you were well hydrated, you waited for the right time to use the bathroom and the test. You made absolutely sure to follow every single instruction on the box so as to not produce an inconclusive result. There was no room to make a mistake at the moment. 

For fifteen minutes you abandon the test on the counter of your bathroom, trying to distract yourself with something else. Within that space of time, Felix sent through a couple of messages to check in on you, an indication that he had also finished his in-class tests. 

From Lix: did you manage to get anything? I’ll bring over some wonton noodle soup for dinner later and some other stuff. You need to eat. 

From Lix: AND HYDRATE keep filling your water bottle up and drink as much as you can. I can get some electrolytes drinks off of Changbin. He won’t mind, he has too much of it anyway. 

You smile down at your phone. Life would be miserable without Felix. You don’t only appreciate him because he’ll go out of his way to do things for you, but you appreciate him because he’s such a good friend. Never is there a dull moment, no bitterness, no jealousy. It’s a peaceful and sometimes chaotic friendship that you cherish whenever you can.

Mulling over your connection with him wasn’t going to kidnap you from reality however, as the pregnancy test remains on the counter, waiting for you to step over and check the results.

Your heart is in your throat, pounding and begging to jump right out. Whatever those lines read on the pregnancy stick didn’t fail to make you feel any more nervous than you already were prior. Almost like it just kept getting worse. At that moment, you thought about ringing Felix or texting him to see if he could help. 

You’ve seen videos of women who’ve taken pregnancy tests in the presence of their friends for support. There was nothing else you wanted more other than that. Just to have someone nearby if the worst approaches. Yet, at the same time, you never reached for your phone to contact him. Instead, you reach for that plastic stick on the counter. A small yet seemingly significant item that had the potential to change your entire life. 

With one large breath in and out, you lean over to the surface to see two clear blue lines present on the stick.

There was no fucking way.  

You snatch the test immediately. Holding it up to the bathroom light to make sure you weren’t seeing things, then holding it away to see it again. To double check once more, you swipe the instructions from the box to see whether or not two blue lines were an affirmative pregnancy or a negative test. 

But, to your disbelief, shock, and defeat, there was no other result other than a positive reading. 

Everything comes crashing down. You can even hear it on top of your own racing heartbeat in your ears. The tips of your fingers go numb when you bring them up for your hand to cover your mouth. The millions of questions firing throughout every corner of your brain cannot be slowed for the faultless truth to be right there in front of you.

It explains every symptom you’ve had to date for the past couple of weeks that you had foolishly mistaken for immense stress. As of now, it was impossible to articulate a clear thought. What are your options? What will you do? Who do you even tell? When it comes to the latter, the first person that pops into view is the same one who landed you in this predicament, and to think that you’re carrying his child. 

It’s not hard for you to retrace back to the afternoon where it all unfolded. The afternoon where you can now unfortunately say was the date of conception, wishing that it never happened. All of it sends a very strong reminder of how fucked everything now appears to be. As you struggle to come to terms with a new future, one that requires careful and cautious thoughts, you keep the secret to yourself for the time being, unable to even bring yourself to tell Felix who would grow sceptical of you not responding to his texts. You couldn’t answer him when he said he wanted to bring dinner around for fear that he would automatically sniff out that you’re not acting your usual self. 

The Monday that followed, Felix texted you to see if you were okay and if you needed him to drop anything around. Tuesday came around for him to remind you to keep drinking as much water and eat if you were able to stomach food. When Wednesday dawned, Felix never received a reply back from you when he asked if you wanted to have a talk. Thursday then arrived, as he held himself back from contacting you entirely, but wasn’t offended by the fact that you weren’t responding to his messages. 

Friday then approached where Felix found that it was absolutely necessary to actually pay you a visit. The buildup of texts and missed calls he sent you were almost a sign for a welfare check. Although, he didn’t want to jump ahead that far despite his suspicions about your strange and absent behaviour. 

The first location where he was hoping to catch you was at student accommodation, where he was to stand for a few minutes at your door, knocking to see if you were there. After checking the time on his phone, he realised that you were probably in your tutorial, so bolted over to the other side of the campus, and waited patiently outside. 

Rustling and chatter sounded from behind the door before students began pouring out into the corridor once it had ended. Each unfamiliar face that caught his eye led him to more disappointment to find that you’re not there. He steps across the threshold of the classroom to see empty tables, chairs, and desks, all except for the one up the front that was occupied by the tutor. The same person Felix saw last week when he came to get you for lunch. The same person you told him about who you despised greatly. 

If only he knew the latest reason why you hated him so much. 

Seungmin’s pen stalls over the pages of student assignments that he was marking, looking at Felix with curiosity, “can I help you?” 

“Just looking for someone,” Felix answers. “Thought they were here.”

“Y/N, you mean?” Seungmin assumes straight away.

“Yeah.”

“I take it she’s your friend?” He asks. 

“Yes,” Felix answered, thinking about how that’s a strange question to ask. “Did she leave already?”

“Leave?” He retorts. “She needs to show up first in order to leave. I haven’t seen her this entire week.” 

Felix gives him the benefit of the doubt for being a conceited asshole and not knowing your circumstances at the moment. But he’s in no place to tell him anything. Either way, the fact that he now knows you had been missing from tutorials and most likely lectures too, wasn’t good news.

“Know when she’s coming back?” Seungmin questions.

Felix sighs, his eyes squaring up the man across from him, “not really, no.”

“Well, if you could try to get a hold of her that would be good. Some of her professors have sent emails to her and copied me into them since attendance for lectures and tutorials are compulsory and count towards her grade.” 

Felix sighs and nods, appearing so suddenly distant while he thinks about something. Whatever it was, Seungmin was able to observe his reaction, sensing a tinge of worry from the person in front of him. He wouldn’t have stepped foot in his class if he didn’t have a reason to look for you which made him more curious. 

“I’ll let her know,” Felix replies and retraces his steps back outside the faculty and into the courtyard. 

From an objective perspective, for someone who has seemed to have dropped off the grid is a massive cause for concern. As your best friend, Felix can’t overlook it. Immediately his mind starts zapping to different conclusions without thinking rationally at all. What if someone had hurt you - is hurting you? What if you were dead and had been for a while? 

There was no harm in trying your dorm one more time just in case, regardless of how suspicious he looked to the receptionist at student accommodation when he walked past once more to your room. For a minute straight, Felix knocks on your door, unbothered by the students that popped their heads out of their rooms to see what all the commotion was about. To them it was almost as if Felix was trying to break into your dorm and to save himself from potentially being reported or chucked out, you open the door, grab onto his arm to yank him inside.

“Geez why didn’t you open the door like a minute ago?” Felix questions when he realises that he’s now standing in your room . “I’ve been…I’ve been trying to contact you for a week - I was starting to think you were dead!” 

“Close to it,” you respond.

The silence without all of Felix’s knocking is palpable. The pair of you stand quietly as he tries to think about where to start. 

“You know, you really freaked me out when you stopped replying to me the other week. Are you still feeling ill?” 

The guilt plummets on top of your shoulders so suddenly, “I know. I’m sorry for being flaky, and yes occasionally I am.”

“And?” He continues, standing there as if he were waiting for a presentation from you on your diagnosis. “Anything contagious? Still throwing up? Losing your vision? Infected? Did someone bite you and now you’ve only got twenty four hours until you turn into a zombie-“

“This isn’t The Last of Us, Lix,” you sigh. “Also you need to stop playing that game too.”

“What? The plot’s fuckin’ sick,” he emphasises, happily taking a seat on the edge of your bed. “Alright, if you’re not any of that, what are you? What did the chemist reckon?” 

“She said there are a lot of students who are sick at the moment - stress from exams and stuff like that.” 

Felix smiles and sighs with relief for you, “that’s good then, right? It’s not anything complex, all you have to do is take care of yourself properly. Which I’m trying to assume that you have been doing, right?”

You didn’t have the energy to play games with him at the moment. All of it has been depleted by putting thought into your options about this pregnancy which still remains an unknown aspect to Felix about your current absence. That and the morning sickness which has been kicking your ass every day and trying to keep up with coursework from a distance. You already feel terrible for not being able to show up to class and tutorials. 

“I’ve been getting as much rest as I can,” you assure him. 

“Good. Have you seen-”

“I have not seen the doctor yet Felix,” you interrupt, already knowing what his question was going to be. “All I know is that I will at some stage. I have medicine, food and water, I’m covered.” 

He heaves a great sigh, “I saw that tutor of yours by the way.” 

Your stomach sinks. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I went to go check if you were in your tutorial and he said you hadn’t been since last week,” he answers. “I know what you mean when you say that he’s a dickhead. He talks to you as if he owns the fuckin’ world.” 

You nearly laugh. It had been a while since you last felt that airy, humorous sensation in your stomach, “yeah. He’s a nasty piece of work.” 

The same nasty piece of work that put a baby in you, which thinking that thought deflates your entire morale and brings you right back down to earth once more. Felix observantly picks up on the sudden shift in atmosphere, like he’s watching the rawest version of yourself unravel. 

“What’s wrong Y/N?” Felix questions you softly, almost as if he can see through that thin exterior of a wall you’re trying to build between you and him to keep him from finding out the truth. 

“Yes I’ve been sick lately, but not because of stress or anything like that,” you give a wave of dismissal. 

“Let me guess, you’re pregnant,” he says jokingly with an innocent grin and light laugh. 

That grin quickly falls off his face when he sees how serious and unmoving your expression is. For a moment or two, Felix doesn’t say anything. Instead, he grapples with the possibility that you, despite not confirming with him yet, that it isn’t actually a joke. 

“You - you are pregnant…” 

“I found out the other day,” you finally break the news to him. “Hence why I’ve been sort of…distant.”

“That’s…”

It was a surprise to you that Felix stayed this long. You weren’t expecting him to remain in the same room as you for more than three minutes after telling him what the real situation is. All those horrendous stories you had heard of mothers-to-be getting shunned by their family or friends for being pregnant had done a serious number on you. It was impossible to think of anything more lonely. 

Unaware of the fact that you were holding your breath, you sigh immensely. 

Felix doesn’t say another word. He stands up from your bed and opens his arms to embrace your body, “that’s amazing Y/N - you couldn’t have told me any sooner?” 

You stiffen, suddenly doused in cold shock when you realise that this situation could’ve been flipped on its head, “I-I was trying to figure things out. But…I don’t know if I wanted to…”

He pulls you away gently, “don’t know if this is the right option for you right now?” 

Felix always knows what to say in every situation. 

“That.” 

“Well, whatever you choose, you still have me to support you right?” He reminds you. “How are you really feeling about it?” 

“Conflicted,” you sum up quickly. “I don’t know how many pregnancy forums I’ve joined to talk to women who’ve had unexpected pregnancies and watched billions of videos of babies learning to walk and all that stuff.” 

“What have those women said?” 

“They said it was hard to make a decision based on their circumstances or beliefs at the time, but the one thing they mentioned that they all had in common, is that none of them regretted their decision to continue full term to pregnancy,” you explain. 

Felix doesn’t obviously know firsthand, but he can empathise. He knows why people want children, and why others don’t. In this day and age especially since living has turned into surviving instead. It’s difficult to rent, to buy food, to pay bills - and that’s all for one person. 

To have someone who is dependent on you in every capacity is a lifelong thankless job. It’s then when something else strikes Felix’s curiosity as he goes to ask you another question. 

“Who’s the father?” 

“It…doesn’t matter, the point is that I’m pregnant and even though I can change that fact, I won’t.” 

Felix doesn’t ask you about it again, not even two weeks after exam week ends and the study break starts. Unfortunately for some students such as yourself, required catch up tutorials to make up for a percentage of their grades that they missed out on from being absent. Unlike some, your excuse was extremely valid. But it was only twice a week. Something very manageable and a good method of distracting your mind from reality for a little bit. 

Another pluside is that a different tutor was running the classes, making you feel so much more at ease that it wasn’t Seungmin - but only until it was. Only until one class where he shows up five minutes later after the tutorial was meant to commence. It sent you spiralling into a hole of panic. 

You’re suddenly reminded that it’s been one whole month since you found out you were pregnant and suddenly, everything becomes very real again. 

“Apologies, I was told to come in this morning because one of your tutors had an emergency,” he announced to the fifteen people sitting inside the class. “I won’t take up too much of your time today. We just have some information to get through and that’s it.” 

Thank god. One more second spent in his proximity feels like a year being taken off your lifespan. But Seungmin wastes no time in getting things sorted for everyone such as handing out some slides he printed off for everyone to examine. As he crosses over to you, it is in your best interest not to appear suspicious such as not making eye contact with him. That didn’t work out for you last time and only drew more attention to yourself. 

“Thanks,” you reply as he places the sheets down in front of you. 

“No worries.”

He returns back to the front of the class and begins explaining the tasks for the session, all of which were relatively easy and mainly involved reading with a couple of multi choice questions. It took around twenty minutes to complete, and by then you were up out of your seat and ready to hand your answers and papers in. You follow some of the students towards the door, passing Seungmin on their way by. Hoping to not have another awkward encounter with him, you set your focus on just leaving as fast as you could.

“I met your friend the other week,” Seungmin says to you, standing by the door as you attempt to head out. 

You briefly stall in place, intrigued as to why he would suddenly bring that up, “which one?”

“Brown hair, heaps of freckles,” he answers. Felix. “He was worried when I told him that you hadn’t been showing up to classes.” 

“Right,” you respond awkwardly. All of that’s in the past now considering what your future is. 

“Anyway, I guess you have me to thank for getting you into these catchup classes,” he sighs. 

Your eyebrows knit together, “what?”

Seungmin nods and hums, “you didn’t get the emails your Professors sent you?”

Emails? You had other things to worry about and other uses for the internet that were far more preoccupying than whatever it was your Professors had to say. 

“I wasn’t able to check them,” you tell him. 

“Right,” he adds before changing the topic. “Also, the other week, I was meant to ask you a question before you left.”

By the tone of his voice, you had an inkling as to where this was going. He had already talked to you about Uni, and there’s nothing else either of you have in common, so the other thing you could possibly think of was-

“Were you skipping classes because we slept together?” 

There it was. 

If you weren’t carrying his child right now, you would’ve said no because the sex was good, really good that you couldn’t deny the fact. Not even to him. But it wasn’t necessarily the entire reason that triggered your absence for an entire week.  

“Not in the way you might think,” you say to him.

His eyes train onto you, trying to unravel the hidden meaning behind your words, “what do you mean by that?”

You could just come out and say it. The door is right there, providing a speedy getaway to just drop the news and bolt. Then again, you had to think of whether it was mature or not to do that. Yes, Seungmin got you pregnant but the decision afterwards to keep the baby, in the eyes of some, refutes all of that and could bring back his right to know about it. 

Again, it was all too conflicting and required more thought about it. But you also had to be realistic. One month into pregnancy isn’t a long time, but it also isn’t short. Every day for the next eight months would need to be spent carefully. Spending too much time worrying about what Seungmin will think surely will do more harm than good when you need to focus your time and energy on yourself. 

Then again, what is there to lose right now? What harm is there being done to you by telling him? When those thoughts make it past your thinking process, it makes it easier to export the truth.

“I didn’t go to my classes not because I was avoiding you for that particular reason, since I don’t actually regret having sex with you.”

Seungmin’s interest spikes, “what other reason is there then?” 

You sigh heavily and suck it up, “I didn’t go to my classes because I wanted to avoid you for the fact that I’m pregnant.”

As if someone just tipped a cold bucket of water over Seungmin’s head, a tether of shock twists tightly inside his upper body. Almost as if his heart stopped beating for a few seconds. You haven’t seen very many emotions on his face and a blank yet shocked expression was now one of them.

Seungmin reaches up to his glasses and takes them off, “pregnant? As in…you’re pregnant?”

You look around the empty classroom to help prove a point, “who else?”

He pauses while his brain recalibrates, “I caught onto that when you said you were, I’m just trying to-“

“Don’t say ‘figure out ‘how’ because you know exactly ‘how’ it works,” you cut him off before taking a deep breath and exhaling as calmly as you can. “I’m telling you this because I felt that you were obligated to know. I don’t want you to or expect you to do or saying anything-“

“Are you saying I got you pregnant,” he interrupts you this time.

“Yes,” you answer clearly, realising that it was a crucial piece to the puzzle that Seungmin was trying to stitch all together which you hadn’t clearly mentioned. “I haven’t slept with anyone else for months before you.” 

It was a lot to consider, as you predicted. It’s not every day do you get to announce that you’re pregnant and in the most unconventional way possible. Again however, you expected nothing less and expected nothing in return from Seungmin. 

“What are your thoughts?” He asks you. “What do you want to do?”

Surprised was less of a word to describe how taken aback you were by his words as you feel your eyebrows raise on their own. It was a slight relief to hear someone ask you for your own opinion about the journey ahead of you. 

“I’m seeing this to the end,” you answer honestly. “I’m not asking you to do anything for me, in fact I wouldn’t mind if you forgot about this all even though it’d be hard. But I know that you’re obligated to know this.”

He gives a silent nod, “how long have you known?”

“Just over a month now,” you reply. “I honestly didn’t want to tell you. I was planning on keeping it a secret from you entirely.”

Seungmin’s eyes narrow right at you, as if he couldn’t believe what you just said, “and what, become a single parent?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you shrug. 

“Without me?” He looks up. 

You stare right back at him in an equal amount of shock, “Seungmin to be quite honest, I don’t even know you. We hooked up once and that was it.”

“I know that,” he ignores that very important factor. “But do you think I’m abstained from the responsibility that holds when I could’ve just - just-“ 

“Pulled out?” You cut him off, watching the concern on his face remain in place. “Guess it’s also my fault for telling you I was into it.”

“Again, that’s besides the point. Can you at least let me help you?” Seungmin pleads. “We don’t necessarily have to get along. We could co-parent.”

It was the first emotion of desperation that you’ve ever seen him wear. Almost like he was borderline terrified. You didn’t suspect that he had any underlying malicious motives, like one of those crazy co-parents who help you out at first then try and take custody of the baby in the future - claiming that they were present throughout their childhood just to seek some type of revenge. 

That’s how far ahead you were thinking, showing that you were afraid too. 

“Are you implying that we should try to make this work?” You clarify with him. 

“I’m not implying it, I’m asking it,” he emphasises. “Sure we don’t know each other, but we could…at least try?”

“You don’t sound so sure of yourself.”

“Well I’m sorry for not being well versed in the parenting realm since I’ve never had a child before, but it was the first option that came to mind,” he says. “Have you told anyone else?” 

You nod, “just my friend, the one you met.”

He exhales, still swimming in his own thoughts on the facts that he got you pregnant and is now potentially about to be a father. That part was still in the air. However, it was an irrefutable fact that his maturity really shone through. For the first time, you saw him hop off his high horse and set aside his largely inflated ego. He actually seemed to be pretty rational.

“Have a think about it,” Seungmin tells you. “I’d understand either way whatever you decide. I won’t pressure you into anything you don’t want to do.”

I strictly forbid and do not permit ANYONE or any user on any platform to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr or to any other online platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #skz fanfic #kim seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin fanfic #kim seungmin fic #seungmin x reader #stray kids member x reader

[yrgirlkaila]

Half Hour Fun

Genre: Smut💋 Plot: Y/N submits her hands and mouth to Iida for 30 minutes in classrom 1-A. Will they get caught? Parings: Tenya Iida X GN!Reader Warnings: Oral (M recieving), Dirty talk, public s3x, getting caught.

My Hero Academia Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Anime Masterlist

Y/n and Tenya were staying in the classroom a little later to catch up after the latest villain attack during Aizawa-Sensei's class with Thirteen. Y/n was the more quieter student and Tenya was class representative, meaning they didn't spend much time together alone. So they often caught up with each other in Earaser Head's classroom after everyone left. Nobody knew about it except for Y/n's best friend, Denki Kaminari.

"Do you think Aizawa-Sensei will catch us in here?" Tenya breaks the silence and Y/n chuckles. "He doesn't come back into the class until around 10:30pm and it's only 9:58pm. We still have thirty minutes or so until he comes back." They grin and he chuckles at his smart partner. "Okay then, what should we do for the remaining 31 minutes?" He looks at the clock and an idea comes to her brain.

"Why don't I submit my hands and mouth to you for the next thirty minutes?" Y/n offers and his eyes snap to her. "Are you serious? Right here? In Aizawa Sensei's classroom?" He murmurs and they nod, pulling him into a deep kiss.

~~SMUT STARTS NOW~~

Tenya pulls Y/n closer by their waist as he presses small kisses down to their neck and collarbone, pulling a sinful moan from their lips. He smirks at the noise and picks them up, sitting them on a nearby desk which he slightly registers as Denki's. He'll just apologise to him tomorrow. He pushes the thoughts from his head and focuses on Y/n and the urge to place hickies on every part of their body so they can't hide them.

"How about we get to the good part now? You've only got twenty-five minutes left." Y/n lets out between moans and Iida nods, letting them get on their knees. Y/n unbuckles his belt and swiftly undoes his pants, letting them fall to his ankles. They look up at him and he nods. Y/n opens their mouth and allows him to slide his member into their mouth. He stops halfway and starts slowly thrusting.

He continues the slow pace for ten minutes before Y/n sucks a little harder and he bucks into their mouth. They gag and that sends his brain into overdrive as he starts thrusting into their mouth faster. Y/n uses their hands to reach the parts they can't with their mouth and Iida lets her take over for a bit. He's still got control of her for the next fifteen minutes and he's going to make the most of the time left.

"That's a good girl/boy, keep going." He groans and Y/n can't help but moan at the praise, sending vibrations up Tenya's member and shivers up his spine. He tangles his hand in their hair and gently pulls on it. He feels the familiar knot in his lower belly and groans, tugging on their hair. Y/n looks up at him and notices that his close to his high. They suck harder and hollows their cheeks out, taking his member deeper.

"I'm cumming." He groans and releases into their mouth, them swallowing every last drop. He pulls out of their mouth and they fix their hair.

~~SMUT ENDS NOW~~

"Are you to done with your little rendezvous?" They both spin to the door and see Aizawa-Sensei, glaring at the pair. They gulp and instantly make themselves more presentable. "I'll see you two in detention for the next two weeks and if you don't show up, I will extend your detention for another two weeks. Is that clear?" He crosses his arms and they nods. "Yes Aizawa-Sensei, we understand and it won't happen again." They both blurt out and he nods. "Good, now get out of my classroom." They run out and burst into laughter before Y/n looks at their watch.

"You still have another 9 minutes left. Want to go for another one? In your room?" He smirks and drags them back to his room, slamming the door closed for the rest of the night.

#mha #bnha #iida tenya #tenya x reader #mha tenya #bnha tenya #bakugou katsuki #my hero acedamia #boku no hero acedamia #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #fanfic #imagine #gif

[ms0milk]

𝟕 | 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"Caramel hathos fills your mouth when red eyes let you breathe again."

cw remember when i told you to trust me? angry bkg, angry y/n, shouting, some manhandling. repeated use of "sir" nonsexually though bkg does briefly take pleasure in your power imbalance. y/n's patience is unmatched bless her heart. civil teammates -> enemies. my favorite closing lines ive ever written 2.1k

this chapter officially concludes a hymn to black water part 1, thank you for reading this far with me! and have no fear, part 2 will begin next week :) can't take a break from this story who am i kidding it's just getting good

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She’s been terrorizing you for the better part of the evening. Doctor Chiyo Shuzenji, Takoba’s infamous: Recovery Girl. An evening meant to be spent finding clothes and dinner and Prince Bakugou’s guest chambers so that you could take up your first shift outside of his room.

How could you begin to thank him? Declarations and taken knees occupy the gray space in your brain between constant kisses and ramblings about antivenom. You’re held hostage on hospital linens with thoughts of protective canonfire rage.

“And when I got back– poof! Injured Alderans keep me up all night, I leave for one blessed hour, and come back to six empty beds.”

There’s nothing you can say to appease the doctor as a plate of tea sandwiches is thrust into your lap and the kisses begin again. Your companions were moved to their permanent rooms sometime in the throne room-interim and you were just as surprised to come back to a hospital empty of their warmth as you were to hear such a commanding voice come out of such a tiny woman. Shuzenji's magic bubbles at the surface of your skin like it would be comforting if she wasn’t so agitated.

“How you even managed to stay conscious is– it’s– you’re lucky the adrenaline didn’t course the poison straight to your heart! And the prince! Summoning you from the hospital of all places–”

“My prince?” You interrupt with half a mouth full of bread.

She shakes her head, “The little Todoroki.”

“I thought I was summoned by the queen?”

“My queen is not stupid.”

You submit to treatment again quietly and nurse the plate of food Shuzenji had rushed from the kitchens for you. Was Prince Todoroki in the crowd today? Does he look like his mother? Spiderlace has webbed across your image of the queen and naught but her thin silver hair can be seen behind it.

The doorknob jumps as the doctor pours herself into your discharge instructions, and when she thinks the Champion is the one trying to sneak inside again she huffs at the opening door,

“Mr. Eijirou, if you interrupt this examination one more time–”

It felt cruel to make Kirishima watch so you told him to go find his room and something to eat after he escorted you back upstairs. You told him that you would be perfectly fine for the night. He poked his head inside every now and then when you made a particularly loud yelp at the doctor’s prodding, but left to go find dinner an hour ago. He even said goodnight and slipped your halberd inside by candlelight.

“Kirishima, really I’m–”

“Eh?”

The voice opening the door doesn’t match the person you thought had been knocking, and not only that. Instead of Kirishima, and his big soft worry, the prince emits a cloud of vex so thick that you taste metal.

He mouths confusion at the scene. 

“Perfect timing Katsuki, you’re next.” Shuzenji beckons him inside from her seat at your bed. He closes the door again wordlessly.

Chasing Prince Bakugou down a Takoba hallway is not going to make it into your daily report, partly because it’s indecent, and mostly because there’s no proper way to recall hunting a prince like game sport.

“Highness, please wait!”

Chasing though, is a generous description; you’re more just walking quickly and rather close behind.

As doctor Shuzenji tried to hobble after him, images of the prince hurling diplomats flashed in vivid memory and you sat the old woman back in her seat. You wouldn’t put it past him to launch tiny old women someplace very far away indeed.

“My Prince, please–”

“Please what,” Bakugou growls when you’ve finally pushed him past the shallow threshold of avoidance and squarely into confrontation. You couldn’t drown in the shoals of his patience for how very dry they are.

When he stops marching and turns to you his shoes catch sparks before his words do, “You are not my guard and certainly not my companion– leave me be or die.” And the honesty of his violence stalls your image of protection.

The chase has taken you from the hospital wing and into that wide foyer under skylights and for hours now the moon above has effortlessly outshone candles. Competing lights illuminate only white marble and a blue hallway runner, with no other decoration to fight over but the two of you standing in front of each other.

“The doctor,” you slow down fast enough to leave the prince a wide berth but still stumble over words in remembering names, “she– Shuzenji needs to finish her examination. I’m–”

“No one needs anything from me, least of all you.”

Why is he so upset? When the prince snaps at you, as he has done a hundred little times over the past few days, he makes a point to swell. He thinks he’s very clever. He’ll dip his chin into the modest curve of your body and tower over you, as if you aren’t already trying as hard as you can to make him feel big.

“It’s important that the doctor sees you, sir.”

One of his red eyes twitches a bit by the brow when you call him sir, and you add it to the list of things you’ve done to piss him off,

“Please come with me.”

The prince settles with his hands in his pockets, “And if I don’t?” He’s on the precipice of a smirk when he continues, “Are you gonna make me?”

Did Doctor Shuzenji let you chase after him because the headache might kill her?

“No,” you frown, “of course not.”

The moon is so bright through the windows above you that the candles can only throw limp shadows across the subtle bones of Bakugou’s cheeks. He never stands up straight. His broad shoulders round in on you in a generous size difference as you attempt to avoid the eye contact he hates so much. He cocks his head. There are no clocks or bells inside the castle and still the oppressing awareness of time makes you feel as if you are running out of it; fifteen years crush you under their weight in a second. Fifteen years living together in Aldera castle and only two conversations to show for it. Three, if this game he’s playing counts as conversation.

“Go to bed then.” The prince still manages to look menacing in white linen and woolen slippers and he throws words like spit, “Go anywhere away from me.”

When he turns around to skulk back into the dark you don’t mean to say anything at all and you’re sure you don’t. You’re sure you’re only staring after him- watching his earrings catch the last of the moonlight before turning down a dark corridor.

“Why did you come back?”

Bakugou is also sure you didn’t just speak up again, but still he stalls under an archway and creaks his neck back to you all the same. Your question hangs in the stretch of white hall.

You’re hungry, you are delusionally hungry and drunk on Shuzenji’s magic because nothing under heaven, not even the end of the world, could possess you to to pick a fight with this man, and you must have been drugged or, or you’re still exhausted or wounded, anything. The prince is advancing on you now because of course he is.

He’s charging. He growls so low it’s almost a whisper, “Stand at attention.”

Bakugou doesn’t leave any space between you when he approaches this time. His hair has been knocked into every direction gravity will let it fly, but mostly it falls over menacing red eyes and beads of blood between sharp tooth and bitten lip. Jeanist really deserves a medal or something; even three-hundred miles away, he is right as always. Staring is an incorrigible habit of yours.

“You get concussed in that crowd?” The prince’s voice is still bitingly quiet when he thrusts a palm against your collar to test how much pressure you’ll withstand before failing his orders to stay still. Your dragonbone broach digs into your chest.

“Please excuse me, Highness.”

There’s no way to tell how short a fuse you’ve cut for yourself now, so you continue standing exactly at attention, the same way you’ve spent more hours of your life than you’ve spent sleeping. Your fingers don’t so much as twitch with a pulse while you hold them at your sides under squared shoulders. His eyes graze your cheeks.

“Aldera sent me a beaten puppy as a babysitter on mission that has taken years off my fucking life.”

“I only–”

“Only what?!” Bakugou reaches forward and snatches a bit of your nightgown skirt in his fist. You’re jerked suddenly against his chest in his anger, “You’re fucking naked! “You represented Aldera in a nightgown and now you’re chasing me down the hall with your body sketched in satin for any plum, fae, or stray cat to ogle at their shiteating leisure!”

It hasn’t quite clicked, until now. The reason why the prince hates you.

He releases your skirts and clenches crackling fists at his sides, “What did I tell you about those creepy fucking eyes?”

You don’t mean to stare this time, and you’ve tried so hard, for days you’ve tried, not to look at him, but for the first time since your bloody meeting in the countryside he is finally, truly, looking at you and the eye contact conjures up nothing but static.

It didn’t even make any sense, how someone you’ve never so much as shared a meal with could feel anything strong towards you, negative or otherwise. But it was clear inside the throne room today and you were just too stupid to see anything past the blue silk cloak gathered like a gift for you in his arms.

The prince was never concerned for your safety. He is embarrassed by you.

“What did I say?” Caramel hathos fills your mouth when red eyes let you breathe again.

You glare unabashedly deer-like from the space between your bodies where ire is so thick you could grasp it. At his eyes, his lovely ash lashes and the downward quirk of a snarl. Bold of him, to call you naked in linens that barely hide his chest.

“Apologies.” And for the first time those words burn when they come out of you. Like a lie. You lower your gaze. Bow your head too.

It is the slightest consolation that Bakugou forgot, in his anger, that he’s pulled you close enough for gold to glint clearly in your periphery. His jewelry is artifact forever in the forest somewhere, so the earrings he’s wearing are yours. His mother’s– your little gold suns jerk and tremble with his temper.

If he remembered he was wearing your charity, he would shout again, but his fury has gone smug at your concession so he presses on,

“Did Jeanist not teach you to say anything else?”

Your fingers twitch at the mention of the name.

“Well? Go on, five days together and you still haven’t introduced yourself to your prince.”

Even with your eyes to the floor you can catch a sneer in the tips of his voice. Bakugou is so close that his breath pricks the skin of your bare neck.

“Put on a show for me.”

He doesn’t let you move away from him. When you step one foot back he comes one step forward. You take your skirts in subtle fists and bend your knees in a curtsey, and you anticipate his single huff of laughter before it even escapes him.

“Y/n. Apprentice to the Master Jeanist, Head of Royal Guard. Subject of the Alderan Queen, bound by blood and at your service, my prince.”

“Is that all?”

It goes against natural impulse not to watch the thing that is trying to kill you, closely, and it’s a struggle to keep your eyes down when the prince’s body is so close you can count each embroidered stitch of his bedclothes. Years ago, when Jeanist allowed you to work in the castle, on your own shifts without supervision, the queen would stop when her path crossed your post. She’d call your name and you would answer immediately, though eyes down like you’d been told to do. In these early days she crouched in front of you, cape, gown, armor and all, to try and take a peek at your face, or lift your head up with a finger under the chin.

“Pretty eyes, Y/n. Don’t cast them down for anyone.”

Bakugou has your chin now, in a tight hot hand. He jerks your head up hard enough to make you flinch, and gods he’s growling, rumbling like a machine, at both your lack of response and the fact that you haven’t left yet. The pair of you stare.

“Fuck off, Y/n.”

It is your every itching instinct to strike him.

“Yes, sir.”

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tagged angels ✧.* @nnubee @jctaro @nonomesupposedto @zombiewarprincess @kotarousproperty @strawberry-mentos69 @sveetnn @eirlysian @lunrai @km7474 @arayoflia @annoyingleftpinky @noomaisdone @cr33pycrawler @iced-chai-tea-latte @cathwritestragediesnotsins @tragicallygray @idimmadontgiveashit @kooromin @k1tk4tkatsuki @litiri @kiwibao @kiwifujin @mmmaackerel @sarcasticlittlebook @condy-wants-a-cookie @mysticalfridge @dududubebo @falling4fandoms @katanaski @babitchsuki @romiinlove @cherripunch26 @acid-rain27 @madmayo @bakugouswh0r3 @heart-of-haunt @zukowantshishonourback @420mitskilover <- thank u for your sweet comment! @ultracrii

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#a hymn to black water #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha fantasy au #mha fantasy au

[ladykailitha]

Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 14

Steve to the rescue again. Eddie is having a horrible week.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12  Part 13  

*

When Steve came home that night, Robin was waiting for him on their couch.

“Hey, Robs,” he greeted warmly. “How was work?”

“Crystal is working out great, he’s got flare,” she said with a grin. “Like you, but different. He had us in stitches during clean up.”

Steve smiled. “I’ll miss you guys.”

Robin’s grin slid into something more dear. “Me too. But I get why you want to get the hell out of Dodge.”

Steve went to the fridge to get them a couple of sodas. When you can get your booze for free, you tend to have other kinds drinks around the house instead.

He handed her one and flopped down next her. “I talked to Mrs Byers and I’m pretty sure I’m going to ace the class. So guess who is graduating, baby?”

Robin squealed. “Yes! I guess Eddie was your lucky charm.”

Steve blushed.

“I didn’t see your painting when I came home,” she said slyly. “Is there a reason you didn’t bring it home?”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Shit! I left in the car!” He scrambled out the door and was back in under a minute panting.

“Thank fuck it wasn’t too hot today,” he said between breathes. “Otherwise I would have started bawling.”

Robin held out grabby hands. “I want to see!”

Steve turned it around and handed the canvas to her.

“Holy shit, Steve!” she whispered. “This is really good. Like art gallery good.”

He blushed. “It’s just an assignment. It isn’t a big deal.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” she gushed. “You should submit this to the art show for graduating seniors.”

Steve opened his mouth for some excuse, but he didn’t have any. Not really. “Yeah. I’ll let Mrs Byers know.”

Robin handed the painting back and he set gently to the side.

“So what did you and Eddie do...?” she asked with a wink and then her face twisted. “If you had sex I don’t want to know that. Ew.”

Steve laughed. “How did you know I was with Eddie?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because there is no one else that you would play hooky for other than me and I since I worked, the only logical conclusion was Eddie.”

Steve’s face was nearly split in two by the grin that comment induced. “Fair enough. He had a nasty ex show up after class today and it really shook him up.”

Robin pushed his shoulder. “Fuck, dingus. You don’t know how to play fair, do you? I can’t make fun of something like that. Bastard.”

He huffed out a small laugh. “And then he wanted me to listen to some of the songs he’d been writing.”

She giggled and clapped her hands. “Anymore of them about you?”

Steve shook his head. “At least none of the ones he played for me sounded like they were about me. Not like the last one.”

Robin sighed. “Maybe they’re love songs and he’s not ready for you to hear him declare his undying love for you yet.”

He blushed. “He just so amazing, Robs. He deserves every good thing in this world and he just can’t seem to get there. And it’s pissing me off.”

“I know, sweetie,” she said. “I know.”

*

Steve and Robin walked out of their apartment the next day to see a bunch of guys surrounding Eddie.

“Call 911,” he hissed. “I’ll try to keep them busy until the cops arrive.”

Robin’s eyes were wide, but she nodded bravely.

Steve strolled toward the group with a goofy smile on his face. “Hey there, boys. I don’t think I’ve seen you guys around here before.”

The ring leader was a tall, broad-shouldered, good looking man with blond hair. The kind of person Steve would have hung out with in high school. But this was long past that.

They all turned to him and a chill went down Steve’s spine. Some of them had baseball bats and one of the had a tire iron.

And Eddie was in the middle looking terrified.

“Just keep walking,” the ringleader sneered. “We’ve got some business with the Freak here.”

The name sent a second, more dangerous chill down Steve’s spine. The Freak was what they called Eddie in high school. Because he was always out, loud, and proud and made sure it was everyone’s problem.

And then it hit him. He knew who the ringleader was. Fuck.

“Jason Carver, right?” Steve asked, goofy smile still plastered to his face.

Jason was a year behind Steve in high school at a rival school. Dude was so good he had made basketball team captain his junior year.

The ringleader turned further from Eddie to take a better look at Steve.

“Holy fuck!” Jason cursed. “Steve Harrington!”

Steve’s smile turned into a feral grin. “Oh good, you do remember me. And you’ll know that I’m famous for stopping what you’re about to do.”

“Steve!” Robin cried. “Catch!”

Steve’s hand came up and when it came back down everyone was staring at the bat now in his grasp. The top of it had been decorated with nails.

“I take this to Pride every year,” Steve said casually, like he was talking about the weather. “It’s my anti-homophobe bat. It’s a great deterrent for assholes like you.”

He twirled it around, warming up his wrist. “So are you going to walk away or are you boys going to be introduced to Hela?”

Jason looked at his friends and then back at Steve. “There are five of us and only one of you, you really think you can take all of us?”

Steve smiled warmly. “Of course not, I just have to keep you busy until the cops show up.”

Jason’s friends started to mutter to themselves.

Jason scoffed. “You didn’t have time to call the cops.”

Steve batted his eyelashes innocently at Jason. “I’ve never said I did. Robin called them while we were talking.”

They started to look at each other worryingly.

“And if I know Eddie,” Steve continued, “he’s hit the emergency button on his cell phone so that the cops have a recording you threatening to jump me with your buddies.”

Jason sneered. “I think you’re bluffing.” His friends didn’t look convinced.

“Hey, man,” one of the said, putting a hand on Jason’s arm, “if they did call the cops we need to get out of here.”

“Pussy,” Jason sneered, pulling away from him and grabbing the tire iron from him. “I’ll handle this myself.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “I’m going so wreck that pretty face of yours Carver.”

Jason snarled like a cornered animal, full of rage and fear. He leapt forward swinging the iron like a club, all brute force and no finesse.

Steve loosened the muscles in his neck as Jason swung wildly passed where Steve had been previously, having stepped deftly to the side.

“That’s not the way you swing, you moron,” he heckled. “Maybe you should have taken some baseball with your basketball like I did.” Steve swung and tapped the back of Jason’s jacket. Not hard enough to actually hurt him, but enough that Jason stumbled as he was off balance because of his swing.

Jason fought to stay on his feet, but managed to whirl around to face Steve.

“You want to try again?” Steve asked, brightly.

Jason charged at him again and again Steve side stepped him, tapping him on the back as he passed.

Then there was the bee-whoop of a cop car pulling up. The four other guys pushed at each other in panic as they tried to run. But they ran straight into the arms of the waiting officers.

“Just put down the weapons, boys,” a big burly man said into his megaphone.

Steve laughed. “I’d love to, Chief Hopper. But I’mma gonna wait until he puts his down first.”

Hopper sighed so loud Steve could hear it without it being amplified by the megaphone.

“Harrington, I should have known,” Hopper croaked into the megaphone. “You! The other one.” Jason turned to him in shock at being called ‘the other one’. “I’d best be putting that tire iron down, before Steve decides you’re not worth the effort and flattens your face right quick.”

Jason looked back at Steve and then to Hopper. He slowly put the iron down. Steve did the same to his bat and kicked it behind him, where Robin ran to pick it up.

Jason held up his hands and slowly stood up. One of the deputies came running up and handcuffed him.

“You’re going to pay for this, Munson!” Jason snarled.

Eddie waved from where he was at Robin’s side, having dashed over there while the idiots were watching Jason and Steve fight.

They had to call Diamond and let him know they would be late. Eddie tried to call Joyce, but Hopper put a hand over his phone and gently lowered it.

“I’ve already let her know, son,” Hopper told him. “She says she’ll cancel classes for the rest of the week, if you need.”

Eddie shook his head. “Jus–just for today.”

Hopper nodded. “You take care, all y’all.”

Once their statements had been taken and they were allowed to leave, Steve put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “If you need me to call in again, I will.”

Eddie shook his head. “You still need to pay rent, Stevie. I’ll hang out with Uncle Wayne today.”

Steve grinned. “Good plan, nothing beats a tire iron like a mechanic’s wrench.”

Eddie grinned back. “I like the way you think, sweetheart.”

Steve pushed his shoulder. “Go on. Some of us have to work for our living.”

Eddie laughed and walked to his van, Steve shaking his head as he watched him go.

Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Epilogue

Tag List: @artiststarme @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @itsall-taken @m-owo-n @zerokrox-blog @runyousillydetective @grimmfitzz @wonderland-girl143-blog @sapphirecobalt-1 @scheodingers-muppet @victor-thee-corvid @apricottree @bookbinderbitch @sleepyboosstuff @biatcgh @pixiefallingupthestairs @grtwdsmwhr @thepainisspicy @carlyv @eboyawstenn @bisexualdisastersworld @bidisastersworld @abstractnaturaldisaster @evix-syne666 @nerdsconquerall @lololol-1234 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @a-little-unsteddie @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @elluminis @tailsfromthecrypt @danili666 @plyerice27 @alittlegreyfish  @n0-1-important @no-upper-limit-to-stupidity @maya-custodios-dionach @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @heaven428 @thedragonsaunt @ceaselessly-watching @imfinereallyy @messrs-weasley @sharingisntkaren

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #art school au #gay steve harrington #bisexual eddie munson #ladykailtiha writes

[yujo-nishimura]

Whispers of the Desert Kingdom - Part 9

Warning: Sir Crocodile x fem reader, English is not my native language, not proof-read, age gap - forced marriage, angst and manipulation

After every chapter I am happy about I write one which is not so satisfying. Sorry again for the short interlude - work is overwhelming me these days and university assignments are also piling up. But I'd rather give you all small chapters every day than no writing for weeks, right..? We are almost at the smut part, I just need some time and focus to get it done with. ;)

Taglist: @mcgeemouse , @fan-g0rl , @vexladin , @black-swan-blog27

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

Despite the initial fear and pain, there was an undeniable thrill that coursed through your veins. The sense of helplessness mixed with excitement awakened a part of you that you hadn't fully acknowledged before. And as you looked into the depths of Crocodile's eyes, you could sense that he too derived pleasure from this power dynamic.

However, deep down, you understood that Crocodile was not one to submit to anything that did not serve a significant benefit to him. While he may have appeared to hold all the control in this moment, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to his actions. Perhaps he had a liking for you, or at the very least, he enjoyed the admiration you had for him.

In a moment of bravery, you mustered all your courage and gently touched Crocodile's hand that rested on your heart. Understanding that words would only complicate matters, you silently urged him to come closer, pulling his hand towards you.

To your surprise, he followed your request, his massive frame settling beside you. His hooked arm enveloped your waist, drawing you closer. His proximity allowed you to perceive the intoxicating musky scent that emanated from him, and he could likely feel the frantic pace of your heartbeat beneath his touch.

You seized the initiative and pressed your lips against his. This kiss felt different from the one you shared at the wedding—more controlled yet infused with a deeper passion. Crocodile reciprocated the kiss, pulling you closer into his embrace. As you surrendered to his strength, you felt like a small doll in the arms of a giant.

Breaking the kiss momentarily, Crocodile seemed torn between releasing you entirely or holding onto you even tighter. You gently placed your hand on his cheek, tracing the outline of his scar with your fingertips.

"I am yours now," you whispered, and those words were precisely what he had been waiting to hear. It was all he needed to confirm the connection between you, the acknowledgment of your surrender to him. As the weight of your whispered confession settled in the air, Crocodile's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of surprise, satisfaction, and something deeper that you couldn't quite decipher. His grip on you tightened, securing you in his embrace as if he feared you might slip away. Crocodile leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice husky and filled with a mix of longing and possessiveness. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, my dear. But I promise you this, I will claim you as mine in every way possible."

As Crocodile abruptly pulled away, your heart sank, and a sense of disappointment washed over you. His sudden withdrawal left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, like a flame extinguished before it could fully ignite.

His words cut through the charged atmosphere, devoid of any hint of emotion. "I have no time for this now," he reiterated, his voice laced with the same dry resolution as the night before. "You can stay here or go back to the palace. I will meet you tonight."

Your heart was still beating fast, you felt like a fish thrown on land, gasping for air. You wanted him so badly, for a moment you had felt so close to him but then he had again, let go of you, not sure if he was still hesitant or really did not like you. 

With a heavy sigh, you rose to your feet, feeling the need to create physical distance, hoping it would alleviate the awkwardness between you. "I will go to the palace but await you there," you replied, your voice tinged with a mixture of determination and frustration. "Don't think for a moment that I will allow you to get away with only leaving bloodstains on my sheets again tonight..!"

#one piece #sir crocodile x y/n #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile one piece #x reader #yujowriting #sir crocodile #alabasta

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC F/AotW - Jan 21 - 27, 2024

✒️= Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨= Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA | 🔹Submitted by creator

BLADES OF LIGHT AND SHADOW

Aerin Valleros Fanart 🎨by @storyofmychoices

Aerin Valleros x MC Fanfic ✒️🔹by @skepticalfrogcat

Blades of Light & Shadow Fanart 🎨🔹| Multiple Characters by @phaaz

Promises ✒️🔹- @petalouda85

Things Left Unsaid ✒️Ⓜ️🔥🔹| Mal Volari x F!MC - @dutifullynuttywitch

Tyril Starfury x MC 🎨🏳️‍🌈🔹by @gaiuskamilah

CRIMES OF PASSION

Gabriel Rose 🎨🏳️‍🌈🔹by @lilyoffandoms

Home Without ✒️| Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @thosehallowedhalls

laplace's angel ✒️🔹| Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @inlocusmads

A Tipsy Winter's Tale ✒️🔹| Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @jerzwriter

THE CURSED HEART

Longclaw x Radiance Fanart 🎨🔹by @artbyalz

THE ELEMENTALISTS

Hallway Argument ✒️| Beckett Harrington, MC - @choicesmc

ENDLESS SUMMER

Grandchildren: Leonel 🎨🏳️‍🌈| Estela Montoya x MC - @marmolady

IMMORTAL DESIRES

Snow in Crimson, Starlight in Gold (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🏳️‍🌈| m!cas x m!gabe x m!mc - @aria-ashryver Chapter 38: Heaven is Not Fit to House a Love Like You and I

IT LIVES SERIES

ILITW Fanart 🎨 by @alleykatart

LAWS OF ATTRACTION

Prelude: Martin's Rise ✒️🔹| Martin Vanderweil x MC - @aces-and-angels

Serving Cunt and Justice 🎨🏳️‍🌈| Multiple Characters by @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

NIGHTBOUND

Loyal to be Royal ✒️🔹| Nik Ryder x F!MC - @ladylamrian

OPEN HEART

Full Open Heart Masterlist Week of Jan 21-27

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

Best Kept Secrets (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Liam Rys x F!MC - @ao719 Chapter 18: Maybe We'll Get it Right

Daylight ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| TRR MC x ? - @angelasscribbles

Forevermore (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| King Marquise (Liam) x MC - @khoicesbyk Chapter 4a: The Princess Diary, Part 1 Chapter 4b: The Princess Diary, Part 2

VEIL OF SECRETS

Jeff Duffy Fanart 🎨🔹by @lilyoffandoms

Veil of Secrets Fanart 🎨🔹Multiple Characters by @lilyoffandoms

WAKE THE DEAD

Angel Savage Fanart 🎨🔹by @gaiuskamilah

Angel Savage Fanart 2 🎨🔹by @lilyoffandoms

Eli Sipes Fanart 🎨🔹by @lilyoffandoms

The Siren (Zombie) 🎨by @lilyoffandoms

Starlit Night ✒️🔹| Troy Hassan x F!MC - @dutifullynuttywitch

Troy Hassan Fanart 🎨🔹by @lilyoffandoms

WTD MC 🎨🔹by @lilyoffandoms for @dutifullynuttywitch

CROSSOVERS / MULTIPLE STORIES

Blades of Light & Shadow/Nightbound

Happy Birthday @ladylamrian! 🎨| Nik Ryder, Aerin Valleros, Mal Volari - by @artbyalz

Crimes of Passion, Nightbound, Open Heart, The Royal Romance

Choices MCs 🎨 by @mariemarieohcontrary

#playchoices #playchoices fanart #playchoices fanfic #blades of light and shadow #crimes of passion #the cursed heart #the elementalists #endless summer #immortal desires #it lives anthology #laws of attraction #nighbound #open heart #the royal romance #veil of secrets #wake the dead #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #cfwc art of the week

[violet-hartley]

Part 1 - To Begin - Prologue (2/4)

The boy who passes by

Not long after the New Year, many of Linkon’s residents still bask in the holiday spirit. However, Bloomshore District’s Special Task Force, specifically team 013, was in panic. After five long years, the were welcoming a new recruit. “Heard his Evol is light or something. He’s usually only responsible for providing light and scouting a path during missions. Support role… It’s not that impressive.” “Impressive people won’t be sent to our team. Staying here for a year is almost like being buried in the ground for a decade.” “So, he’s just like us. A nobody.” Luke hands over the newcomer’s information to Tommy. “Is he here to fix our hallway’s lights?” Arthur is hit by a wave of mixed emotions while looking at his team chuckle about their own jokes. This marks the sixteenth year as a police officer and ninth as the Captain of Team 013. In his younger days, his passion led him to numerous accomplishments, but a severe injury from a high-risk mission five years ago significantly diminished his mobility. He knows he must utilize the energy of a new blood to somehow mold this group of misfits back into shape. “Attention, everyone!” Arthur closes the door with a bang, breaking the chatty atmosphere. “Three o’clock in the afternoon, the rookie will report for duty. We only got two hours left, so we need to start preparing! Tommy, are you working part-time as a junk collector? This pizza box has been here for weeks. Throw it away!” Arthur is completely oblivious to the neck pillow he’s still wearing and doesn’t see the poker-faced expressions on his crew’s faces. “And this figurine on your desk, Luke. I’ve told you not to bring this into our office. It makes us look bad!” “Yes, sir!”Luke hides the action figurine in the drawer of his desk. The captain is nervous. Team 013 is at the bottom of the hierarchy. After numerous reshuffles, they have been whittled down to a single captain, two officers, and a support technician who has just submitted a transfer request. They’re hardly what one could call a “team”. In their early years, they made a name for themselves by solving several major cases. However, their present has nothing of their past luster, marked by a lack of talent. Their reputation has taken a hit due to failed investigations. When their department relocated, they were left behind to handle the task of “sorting through” a plethora of old files. To this day, they still inhabit the old building. As time passed, they were all but forgotten, their only interactions with the others being to occasional job to retrieve files or search at the headquarters. The captain couldn’t possible know his life and that of his team was about to change.

At the age of 23, the rookie Xavier stand before the door, holding a cardboard box. His uniform is neat, and his expressionless face clean. He sticks out, being the only lively person in the otherwise gloomy hallway. “Excuse me…” As the door swings open, a group of people, in the midst of their hustle and bustle, lift their heads. They are dumbfounded by the face illuminated under the bright, white light. “A college student?” “Has he graduated yet?” “Everyone who comes here is just a bunch of pretty boys…” Slightly awkward, Arthur clears is throat, signaling for everyone to quiet down. His eyes filled, with anticipation, move to the newcomer. “You must be Xav, right? Why don’t you introduce yourself?” “Xavier, male, 23. I’m the newest member. I look forward to working with you,” the young man says, heading straight to an isolated desk in he corner. He places the cardboard boxed beside the computer and silently starts to arrange his things. Tommy and Luke simultaneously exchange disgruntled glances. What’s this guy’s deal?

However, as time passes, Luke’s impression begins to change. Whether it’s tasks assigned by the higher- ups or senior members, Xavier always completed them quickly and methodically. He works until they’re done, but nothing more. He is never late, but he doesn’t leave early. His Evil is even more useful. Sometimes, for reasons unknown, a flash of light causes the criminal they’re chasing to unexpectedly drop to the ground.

“Our target this time is an old friend Lawrence.” Team 013 has its usual mission briefing. Lawrence made his fortune selling Evol hallucinogens, distributing his supply to major entertainment venues in Linkon City and Skyhaven. Whether he’s smart of has someone else guiding him, they always arrive either too late to find him or the goods are gone. Just last month, Arthur was disheartened, declaring that if they failed again, it would be handed over to another team. Tommy understood this was subtle hint from the higher-ups that Team 013 didn’t to continue existing. “Our mission this time is rather unique,” Arthur says, surveying the group. “According to reliable sources, Lawrence be at the newly opened Palace Bathhouse next month. The purpose of this meeting is to select an undercover agent.” The room is silent. All eyes turn to Xavier, who is eating his noodled in the corner. Initially lost in thought, Xavier slowly raises his head, feeling many gazes on him. The undercover agent needs to be handsome and young or they’d be seen as suspicious. Xavier fits the criteria. To Luke and Tommy’s relief the agreement is quickly made. Xavier will be the undercover agent.

The Palace has only been open for a month, staffed by young people around the same age as Xavier. After receiving the work badge, Xavier promptly completes his on boarding. The moment he finishes, his supervisor urges him to clock in. “Where’s Alexander?” The supervisor anxiously scans the area. “…What? A stomachache? Then who will go to Fontainebleau? Roman said he wanted to show this batch to Lawrence…” Xavier willingly raises his hand. “I can go, sir.” “You’re the newcomer, aren’t you” The supervisor sizes up the young man. Realizing he doesn’t have a better solution at the moment, he nods.

Xavier arrived at the private room, Fontainebleau. Two bodyguards stand at the door, only allowing him to enter after a thorough search. As Xavier steps inside, a client is already lying on the massage bed. He pushes the tool cart to the side of the bed, simultaneously retrieving the essential oil and slipping on gloves. “Hello. Is this your first time here? Could I interest you in a membership?” Xavier’s hands press onto the man’s spine. The third vertebra, fifth… By the time they reach the seventh, a strong pressure causes Lawrence to almost scream from the pain. The man tries to light his head, but quickly realizes he is being held down. “Where’s your supply?” “W-who are you?!” Lawrence gasps. “Let go… Let go of me! Help— Ouch!” Someone break through the door, and a group of guards instantly appear at the entrance. Xavier looks at them and releases Lawrence. “Don’t you know whose turf this is!” Lawrence snatches a fun from one of his men. The others also raise their weapons, all pointed at Xavier. Xavier slowly removes his gloves, leaving everyone unsure of his next move. For a moment, no one moves. Without even seeing Xavier move, some of the men are knocked down by a sudden burst of light. The young man holds a sword seemingly forged from moonlight itself. By the time Lawrence comes back to his senses, all of the mend around have been taken down. By the time Luke arrives as backup, Xavier stands alone amidst a circle of fallen bodyguards. In the corner, Lawrence is tied up with bed sheets, his neck at an odd angle. “X-Xavier? Did you take out everyone in this room?!” “No.” Xavier walks down the corridor, pulling Luke by his collar. He walks for a bit and then stops. Luke follows Xavier’s gaze. A flood of men in black suits spill out of the elevator. “I’m not very strong, so you’ll have to do the fighting,” Xavier says. All Luke knows is that the grip on his collar loosens, and then he’s tossed out of the hallway. “You didn’t look like you were losing— Aaahhh!”

Half a month later, at the commendation ceremony, Luke scratches his head. Under the fervent gaze of his fellow officers, he steps onto the stage to speak. “I’m not quite sure what happened myself. Seeing all those people, I steeled myself and thought, ‘Might as well close my eyes and take a gamble!’ Then, I just started punching. Before I knew it, they fell like dominos.” Luke recalls that day with a smirk. “Maybe they were just too weak! Oh, the true hero of this incident was our team’s Xavie…”

In the following weeks more inexplainable things happened. Polar Bear, notorious for selling illicit Evol drugs, shows up at the doorstep of the police station. He was tied up, weeping and confessing his sins. Another two months later, Kash, who had been using his Evol to do telecom scams, is found live streaming on MeTube, dramatically slapping himself. Tears stream down his face as he implores everyone not to trust calls from unknow, overseas numbers. For some reasons, Team 013 can’t quite articulate, ever since Xavier joined, their previously inept team somehow found their fighting spirit. Whether Xavier is as simple as he appears to be, no one wants to know. Everyone seems to have an unspoken understanding to guard his secret.

New year arrives. Outside the fireworks echoes. Inside the police station, the break room buzzes with warmth and growing merriment. At the heart of the table is hot pot. Luke has brought freshly wrapped dumplings from home, sparking a debate with Tommy about whether pork-filled or seafood-filled dumplings taste better. Xavier steps outside for some fresh air. Not long after, Arthur follows him, handing him a can of beer while lighting up a cigarette. “Last month, while doing inventory, I found a file missing from the archive,” Arthur says, exhaling a smoke ring without glancing at Xavier. “An event that happened decades ago. The involved party is long gone, and the office gave up looking into it. I wonder who still cares about this case.” Xavier watches him in silence, patiently waiting for what will be said next. “I immediately requested for your personal files from HQ. There was a match in the portrait database. I found This.” Arthur turns to Xavier, handing him a picture. In the faded, yellowed photograph are the traces of a man with grayish- brown hair. His figure is tall, slender. Xavier takes the picture. After a small beam of light, all that remains is a blurry white silhouette. “Everyone has secrets.” Arthur chuckles. “The older we are, the less expectations we have for the new year. Regardless of our days, life continues in its steady, monotonous flow. We hope you choose to stay.” He gives him one last glance before going inside leaving Xavier. Through the floor-to-ceiling window, a group of people can be seen mimicking the TV anchor’s lively dance, exclaiming “Happy New Year!” Xavier sighs, wondering if these people are truly capable of being a competent team. He lifts his head, staring at the New Year’s fireworks that burst at the stroke of midnight above a thousand high-rise buildings. It’s time for him to leave again…

#love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #lnd #fanfic #fanfiction #scifi #sci fi and fantasy

[steddieunderdogfics]

For challenge Monday - the privilege of being yours by MacksDramaticShenanigans

the privilege of being yours by MacksDramaticShenanigans

@stevethehairington

Rating: General

3,156 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Not Canon Compliant - Stranger Things 4 Vol. 2, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Weddings, Wedding Fluff, Fluff, Something Old Something New Something Borrowed Something Blue, STEVE AND EDDIE ARE SO IN LOVE!!!, THEY ARE SO READY TO BE MARRIED!!!

Summary:

“What do you think?” Eddie asks, grinning. “You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughs, already reaching for Eddie’s ankle. He curls his fingers around it and gives it a tug, beckoning Eddie closer. “They’re perfect, you’re perfect. I love them,” he adds, as Eddie scooches into his space. Steve cups both of his hands to Eddie’s face and kisses him right on the center of his mouth. “I can’t wait to marry you,” he says. The kiss turns into something else as Eddie’s lips split against Steve’s, and he murmurs back against them, “I can’t wait to marry you.” When they break apart, Steve taps Eddie’s knee. “Okay, where’s the rest of your sense of tradition? I showed you mine, you show me yours now.” “Oh, I’ll show you tradition alright,” Eddie responds, and he reaches for his left sleeve. Or, the one where Steve and Eddie share a rooftop, beloved traditions, and so much love.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was find fics between 1,000 and 1,500 hits.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

#steddie fic recs #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #challenge monday #canon divergent #fluff #wedding #general

[holylulusworld]

Feral Love

Title: Feral Love

Square filled for @afgomegaversebingo​​: Coitus Interruptus

Summary: He wants only you...

Pairing: Alpha!Soldier Boy x Omega!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: language, angst, a/b/o, light smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, overprotective alpha, possessive alpha, true mates, a hint of breeding kink, fluff, violence

A/N: Please consider I don’t write canon for Soldier Boy most of the time.   

Words: 1,9 k

<< Part 1

AFG Omegaverse Bingo masterlist

___

“Fuck, alpha,” you claw at the silky sheets, desperate to hold tight onto something. Your nails rip them into shreds, as you are too lost in the pleasure Soldier Boy presses out of you. “Please.”

“You can take it, omega,” he purrs in your ear. His voice is gentle, but his hips mercilessly slam into your ass. He already starts to swell deep within you, which indicates his release is close. “Just a bit more and you can rest. I need to fill you up again.”

“Alpha,” your orgasm holds your body in a chokehold. You can’t think, speak, or even breathe right. All you can do is drown in the pleasure. Not only from his cock filling you so perfectly but the bond connection you and the alpha. “…”

“So good for me,” you whimper at his praise. “My perfect omega, mine. I’m going to fill you with my pups and keep you here on your nest. Safe and always full of me.”

“I—” you’d like to protest and tell him you still got a job and important work to do. But the ugly truth is, you were a mere tool to Vought. They sacrificed you so easily that you can barely look your colleagues in the eyes anymore.

Not that your alpha would’ve given them the chance to get anywhere near you. He growls like a feral wolf at anyone daring to look your way. Especially the people leaving you alone at the lab.

“Mine, I gotta fill you—” he grunts as someone dares to knock at the door. “Get away.” Soldier Boy still rocks his hips, desperate to knot you, but the person outside of your shared apartment just doesn’t get it. “I’ll kill you.”

“Soldier Boy, it’s time,” the annoying voice of his personal assistant, or rather the babysitter Vought insisted on hiring calls for your alpha. “We got this interview, and you need to come with me now.”

“’mega, just a minute,” he pecks your neck, lips lingering on the mark he left a few months ago. “I’ll teach that brat a lesson. They can’t stop me from mating my omega.”

“Alpha,” whimpering you feel him slip out of you. Your orgasm was good, but your body is craving his knot. “Please.”

“Soon, Y/N.”

Stark naked your alpha storms toward the door to rip it open. He glares down at his assistant, face contorted in pure rage. “What did you not get? I told Vought I need the week off to breed my omega. Get the fuck out of my sight before I rip your head off.”

“I-I,” eyes glued to his prominent erection the poor girl whimpers as your alpha keeps on barking at her. He’s impressive and scary sight. His chest heaves up and down, and there is spit running down his chin while he’s speaking. At least he cut his hair and trimmed his beard or he would look more like a feral animal than a man. “I’m sorry. They said you must attend the press conference.”

“You are my assistant,” he huffs. “Go and tell them I’m busy. If anyone ever stops me from knotting my omega again, they will die slow and painful.”

The door ends up in her face. Soldier Boy turns back around to stalk toward the bed. “Y/N, mine…”

“Yours,” you wiggle your ass and press your face in the cushions to present for your alpha. He’s a bit old-fashioned sometimes and in times like these, the only way to calm him is for you to fully submit to him. “Sweetheart.”

“SB,” you smirk into the cushions. “Why don’t you come over here and give me that knot? I need my alpha to finish what he started.”

“You’ll get it,” he smirks darkly when you impatiently wiggle your ass. “Just wait for—for fuck’s sake.” He barks as someone knocks at his door again. “Guess they want me to kill them, Y/N. Just another minute.”

“Aw,” you roll to your side to cover your modesty as you hear Homelander’s voice outside of the apartment. “Not him again. He’s so…”

“I know…”

___

“You let us wait. Again, I may add,” Stan Edgar sneers as Soldier Boy finally makes his way toward the rest of the seven. “We had a deal.”

“That we have,” Soldier Boy shrugs. “The deal we have includes leaving me alone when I’m about to mate my omega and to keep anyone away from her.”

“You got what you wanted. The doctor is all yours to use, breed, and throw away when you get bored,” your alpha narrows his eyes at Edgar’s words. His hands twitch, and he’s about to lose control. “Now do your job.”

“I did my job for months. All I was asking for is to leave me alone outside of missions,” he squares his jaw. “If you ever mention my omega again. If you only think about her.” Soldier Boy takes a step toward Stan Edgar, making the man flinch for the first time in his life. “You won’t like what happens. You better not make me rethink our arrangement.”

“You are one of our creations,” Edgar sneers. “None of our creations ever turned their back on us and made it far.”

“I wouldn’t try to make it far,” Soldier Boy smirks. “I would stay here and take over your nice little company. Maybe destroy everything you built.”

“All for some omega pussy,” the deep makes the mistake to open his mouth. “Come on, man. I get it. She was the first cunt you scented after being knocked out for forty years. You should get rid of her and—” he doesn’t get much more out. Soldier Boy’s hand wraps around his throat, cutting his air supply off.

“I’d be very careful now, dolphin boy,” Soldier Boy snarls in the deep's ear, making the supe struggle to keep his bladder under control. “One more word about my omega and your fish friends will feast on your rotten body tonight.”

“Alpha, that is enough,” your voice immediately calms your alpha. He releases the deep, and steps away from him. “I think they got the message.” You place your hand on your alpha’s shoulder.

“Omega,” Soldier Boy scoops you into his arms to carry you out of the conference room. “I told you to not leave the apartment. We can’t trust anyone. Everyone is an enemy within these walls.”

“You are telling me,” you hide your face in his neck. “My so-called colleagues and friends left me alone in the lab. You could’ve killed me.”

“I didn’t want to kill you, sweetheart. I only wanted to have a taste of that sweet cunt you are hiding,” he smirks as you lift your head to glare at him. “And to make you my omega.” He corrects. “I only want to protect you, Y/N.”

“Why don’t we just run away?” you sigh as he walks toward the apartment. You know that it’s impossible to get away from Vought so easily, but it’s nice to dream, though. “I don’t think that I want to work for Vought any longer. I can’t trust them. My boss never liked me and the rest of my colleagues only waited for me to take one wrong step.”

“I’ll make sure you are safe, Y/N,” he nuzzles your cheek. “No one will ever dare to hurt you. I know this isn’t ideal, but we need to wait for the right moment to get out of here. For now, we need to play along and pretend I’m their obedient tool.”

“You’re not a tool,” you sigh deeply. There is not a day you don’t hate that Vought uses your alpha for their selfish goals. “I spared some money. We could just run and hide at a cabin in Alaska.” You wrap your arms around his neck to look him deep in the eyes. “I got twenty thousand dollars, alpha.”

“It’s cold in Alaska, ‘mega. You will freeze all the time,” he unlocks the door with one hand while you hold tight onto him. “You and I will need much more money. Let me make more fast cash with missions and promotions. Soon we will leave this shitty tower and never look back.”

“Will we hide in Alaska?”

___

“I quit,” you place your letter of resignation on your boss’ desk. He lifts his head from the papers in his hands to look at you. “I will get my things and you can look for someone better for my position."

“Why do you want to leave us?” he asks. “You were one of our best.”

“I don’t trust you or the others. You left me at the lab with an almost feral alpha,” you turn to leave and slam the door shut behind you. “Fuck you. All of you…”

___

“What will we do now,” you glance around the bedroom. You never wanted to become one of those omegas only waiting for their alpha to come home. Now you quit your job and do just that. “I just quit my job.”

“So much for pretending,” your alpha sits next to you to pat your thigh. “You know, Soldier Boy is still needed out there but, Ben is winning the upper hand. He only wants to be with his omega.”

“I still got those twenty thousand bucks, Ben,” leaning your head against his shoulder you dare to dream he will agree to just run away with you. “What do you say?”

“I got a car, and two bags full of money,” he whispers as he points at two black duffle bags standing on the ground. “If you can pack your things real quick, we can be out of here by the end of the day.”

“Really?” you clutch his shirt. “Ben don’t lie to me. Do you want to leave or just toy with your omega? I don’t like people lying to me.”

He laughs as you climb into his lap to cup his face. “I got a plan, sweetheart,” he purrs when you gently stroke his face. “We’ve got money and a plan. What can go wrong?”

“Where do we want to go?” you giggle as he presses his index finger to his plump lips. “Aw, tell me, alpha. I wanna know.”

“Not here,” he says. “We never know who is listening…”

___

“On the run?” Stan Edgar slams his fist onto his desk. “How can Soldier Boy be on the run? He’s our creation! He’s nothing without us. Go, find him. I dare you to come back empty-handed.”

“He took his omega and ran,” Homelander shrugs. He’s happy that his concurrent left the stage. “Why do you care so much? We don’t need him. Never needed him. All he did was cause trouble.”

“He’s mine. No one leaves Vought,” Edgar snarls. “No one! Do you get this?”

___

“Oh, my fucking God,” you squeal as Ben stops right in front of a cabin that is nestled in the woods. “You took the whole ‘cabin in Alaska thing seriously.” He wraps his arms around you and looks over your shoulder at the large cabin.

“That’s ours,” he whispers. “No one knows about it. I used to come here to hide when everything got too intense. I never showed my secret hideout to anyone.”

“It’s beautiful, and huge for a cabin,” Ben just holds you in his arms for a moment. He knows one day Vought and the seven will come for him and you. Until then he will try to make the best of the new chance he got.

And if they find him, he’ll kill them all and make sure none of them will ever try to take you away from him…

___

Tags in reblog.

#Feral Love #afgomegaversebingo #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x y/n #smut #the boys fanfiction

[taekookielove0130]

Slowly, Unintentionally.

Part 1

Pairing: Idol!Min Yoongi x Nerd!Reader

Summary:

          Y/N and Yoongi are two individuals in completely different worlds who collide due to an arranged marriage. What happens when there’s somebody else living with them too?

________________________________________________________

To anyone who cares,

I've been working on this story for some time. It was intended to be a one-shot but it turned out to be quite long. Somewhere along the way I lost motivation and started thinking this wasn't going to be good. So I posted the first part hoping to find motivation again.

And if you haven't noticed yet, I'm taking requests for any fanfiction {long-length, short-length One-shots, POVs}.

And to all the loyal readers I've got, Thanks a lott for reading. I absolutely love you guys. Could you please tell me what you think about it too?

You can also 'ask me anything" or "submit a post" on my blog! Happy reading!

________________________________________________________

It wasn't a conventional type of marriage that you had. You and Yoongi weren't even supposed to marry. He was a celebrity, an idol. While you were the oblivious nerd at school.

You never cared for the crowd or the music. All you knew was that good knowledge would take you anywhere. You were told from a very young age that education was your only constant in life and that you should work hard.

Work hard, you did. You spent days researching and nights revising. You topped your school and entered a university of your choice. Getting a degree was a piece of cake for you, and you topped your university too. Passing with flying colors, you had no difficulty finding a job.

When all others were out partying, you were busy working for your future. And it wasn't that easy being a nerd either. People teased you all the time. Told you that you weren't enough. Pointed out endless times that you were ugly and that no guy would ever like you.

You had no friends and barely left your house unless you had to go to the library or the nearest convenience store. And every night when you cried yourself to sleep, the only thing that ever brought you comfort was the hope that you will someday find someone who will look at you the way your dad does at your mom. With stars in his eyes and love in his gaze.

Your parents are the loving type. They had a love marriage. Being high-school sweethearts, theirs was a love story you would never tire of hearing. Every time you went to your grandma's, you were always asking her to retell the story.

They not only loved each other but also loved you immensely. Being the only daughter, you were their whole world. But sometimes, you thought it would have been better if you were an orphan. Every time you looked at your parents' faces you thought they deserved a better daughter. Those times, you couldn't keep the tears at bay. You would close yourself up in the restroom and cry your heart out.

Oh, you also had social anxiety. The moment you step out into a public space, your head starts spinning. You feel dizziness as your body starts sweating and your hands start shaking. You feel like everyone's eyes are on you, and the walls are caving in.

So, the day you were told that your marriage was arranged to an idol, you weren't sad. You were devastated. When you asked your dad, he explained to you that Yoongi's uncle was a dear friend of his and that he was worried about his sister's son. He was arranging a quick engagement ceremony this weekend, and the week after that, you were getting married to a man you barely knew.

You ran to your ma and cried your heart out in her lap while she lovingly caressed your face and whispered sweet nothings in your ear until you calmed down.

When you met her eyes, she gave you a gentle smile and said,

"Don't worry too much, Y/N. You don't know much about Yoongi. You might want to get to know him better, and since your marriage is just 2 weeks away, you'll have to do that after the marriage.

I know that this is a lot to take in, but I promise that once you settle in, it's going to be a lot easier. Besides, Yoongi isn't too bad. You can expect love in this marriage, but I must warn you not to raise your expectations too high..."

And so, the only two times you saw your husband before marriage was once when he came to meet your dad and you were going to work. The other time was at your engagement party when you were supposed to stand with him the whole night, and honestly, he treated you well.

He behaved like a gentleman. But what worried you was the lack of conversation between you and your soon-to-be husband. He barely spoke a word to you except for the occasional compulsory questions due to the company you had.

The chemistry between you two was not too difficult to notice. The tension was palpable, and the heat was discernible in his eyes. But you spoke no words.

You got married, and it was like no dream you ever had. It was a private ceremony with just your family and close friends, considering your health issue.

It was comforting when your dad held your hand tight. Before you even knew it, you had reached the end of the aisle where Yoongi stood, facing you. He donned one of the many extravagant black suit he possessed and looked like a model.

Not to get you wrong, you did know he had good looks but man... was he damn hot!

Clearing your mind of the thought, You turned to face your dad as he said,

"Y/N, these 24 years passed in the blink of an eye. It feels like your mother showed me her test  and excitedly gushed about having a baby and today..." he paused, clearing his throat. He then lifted his hand and surprised you by wiping the tears streaming down your face.

Jeez! I didn't even notice I was crying. Thanks dad.

"Today, my baby is getting married. I know I asked too much of you by this marriage, but trust me. You couldn't have found a better match. Just... Have patience and remember, Everything heals with time..." you nodded and he took a deep breath, caressed your head and leaned down to softly peck your forehead. Inhaling softly, you turned to look at your soon-to-be-husband. Your father walked closer to him and said, 

"Take good care of her, my man."

Yoongi muttered a soft "I will."

and bowed his head slightly. Shaking, you placed your hand in his, and he surprised you by holding your hand tight. He turned to face the wedding officiator and you followed him. The officiator was a stout-looking man who wore half-rimmed spectacles and a gentle smile on his face. He eyed the crowed and stated,

"We are gathered today to celebrate the union of Lee Y/N and Min Yoongi. We are all here to support this commitment of love and to share the joy of Y/N and Yoongi as they choose to spend their lives together. On their behalf, I thank you all for your presence here today. Before we start the ceremony, is there any soul present here that objects this union?"

He looked around and after a few seconds, turned to look at you and Yoongi.

 "Do you, Min Yoongi, take Lee Y/N to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort and keep her and, forsaking all others remain true to her as long as you both shall live?"

Yoongi turned slightly and looked at you right in the eyes as he boldly said, "I do." 

"And Do you, Lee Y/N , take Min Yoongi to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort and keep him and, forsaking all others remain true to him as long as you both shall live? "

You felt Yoongi squeeze your hands and you looked up, catching a glimpse of emotion before his dark orbs before he masked it again. You gave him a soft smile and said, 

"I do. "

You exchanged your rings and with both your hands gently clasped by his you both said in harmony, "With this ring, I thee wed, and all my worldly goods I thee endow. In sickness and in health, in poverty or in wealth, till death do us part."

"Then, I now pronounce you man and wife."

It was a wish of yours to have a spring wedding and it did come true that day but little did you know that all your other dreams of a marriage of love were about to be shattered the very night

.________________________

You left the place with your husband, but he excused himself. When you asked him why, he replied with an emotionless expression that you had never seen on his face before that he had an urgent meeting to go to.

Frowning, you tried not to dwell on what could be so important that he had to leave on his wedding night when the driver announced your arrival. Stepping down from the car, you tugged your long dress down and thanked the driver before he took his leave. Your things had already been moved to his apartment, which was now yours.

Traditionally, you were supposed to be carried inside the house in your husband's arms.

Shrugging your shoulders, you told yourself, "Well, this is the reality now. You have to accept it, Y/N."

You entered the house and sighed to yourself, deciding that it was time to change your clothes. A warm shower and a clean, comfy change of clothes later, you decided to sleep for a while. You were awoken by the ringing of the doorbell.

"Coming."

You shouted and ran to the entrance to open the door. You were met with the cold, empty expression on your husband's face, and a strong breeze of air that told you he had been drinking.

"Have you been drinking?" You asked.

Ignoring you, he stepped inside and made his way to your bedroom. Feeling low about the way he was treating you already, you followed him. You saw him tug at his tie before moving to the walk-in closet. 

________________________

Yoongi's POV

I left the ceremony as soon as possible to escape the suffocating feeling the place was giving me. I reached the hotel and went straight to the room that was my company for countless nights by now. Ordering a drink became two and didn't stop until I couldn't feel the pain anymore.

Her absence became a dull void instead of the gaping wound it had been throughout the day. Without conscious thought, I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I was no longer tipsy, and it was midnight. I could think now and I remembered I had a wife waiting for me at our house.

Deciding to go home, I checked out and called my driver. Reaching home, I rang the doorbell twice and was greeted by her in a soft grey hoodie. Y/N's angelic voice reached my ears, and I was once again reminded of her. Doing my best to ignore her, I headed straight to my room and opened the closet to get a fresh change of clothes before heading to the shower.

The sight of her clothes arranged together with mine enraged me. It reopened the wound in my heart, and I could feel the dull ache grow and develop into a pounding pain.

Turning, I located her sitting on our bed and met her hazel-brown eyes. Looking back, I knew that I would regret what I do now but decided to do it anyway.

Collecting her clothes and snatching the hangers from my wardrobe, I walked across the room to place them in her hands and said, "The guest bedroom is across the hallway. You may ask the maid to show you to it. "

I was about to move away when I felt a small fist wrap around mine. Turning back, I saw her standing and looking up. I could see her eyes glossed up as she asked, "Why are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?"

Frowning, I stared into her eyes, trying to figure out why she thought so. Unable to understand the emotion in her eyes except for the guilt, I sighed.

"No, you didn't. But I'm not up for conversation right now, so just leave me be, we can talk tomorrow."

I felt her remove her grip, but she softly asked again, "Were you drinking and driving?"

Looking at her soft features highlighted by the moonlight streaming into the room, and seeing her eyes so concerned for me, I could feel the walls I had built around myself all these years start to break down.

"Why do you care so much?" I asked softly, and she simply said, "Because you're my husband now."

Her reply reopened the deep wound as I was once again harshly reminded of the fact that this is Y/N and not Her. I realized nobody would ever care so much about me except when they wanted something in return.

Frustrated, I pulled Y/N in by holding her wrist and caged her in between my arms and the wall. Looking into her eyes, I was met with confusion and slight fear as I told her, "Then don't. Please don't care for me just because you have to..." 

________________________

Y/N's POV:

I am shocked by his answer, and before I can even think to come up with a coherent answer, he leveled his head with mine and said, "You have come into my life now. But that's it."

I am frozen in my spot as I can feel him move his mouth to my ears as he whispered,

"If you can't get into my bed, you sure as hell can never get into my heart."

I stay in place as he pulls away, smirks at me, and then goes into the bathroom. I somehow come out of my shaken state and leave the room with tears streaming down my face. I could feel the maids staring at me, but I couldn't find it in me to care.

To be continued..

.________________

#bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #bts yoongi #suga #jeon jungkook #yoongi #min yoongi #agust d #bts fanfic #bts ffs #min yoogni #words #yn fanfic #yn #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi imagine #yoongi ff #bts suga #min suga #haegum #dday #sugakookie #married #cold hearted #cautioustype #childhood trauma #caring

[a-very-tired-raven]

OKAY, FINALLY, THE MOMENT YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR!! Welcome, my Grills, Dills, and Nonbinary Eels, to my pride art event!

This is how its all gonna go down! Im going to be doing a pride drawing, of my Oc Ameryllis. Due to some of you wanting to help out in some way, I'll be accepting your OWN drawings of him.

This will go up untill the 18th, which gives you all about a week to submit them.

All references I have of Ameryllis will be posted below, along with text descriptions because my handwriting is shit lmao. You do NOT have to participate if you dont want to.

Also, drawing your own ocs with him is welcome! I dont care what your drawings are, as long as they involve my fruity child. Feel free to ask any questions if needed!!! Also, buckle up, this is a long post. Alrighty *cracks fingers one at a time* Here we go!

A small description of Ameryllis to help get into his character: He was orginally my dolortale metta. Hes long since became his own character(though i may still use him as his orginal role), and i have unfortunately lost his metta design.

Anywho, Ameryllis represents the stage of acceptance in the stages of grief, hence the flowers hes named after. He has a GREAT love for theater, and uses this to help the undergound cope. He might seem stuck up and arrogant at glance, but this isnt the case. Though its incredibly hard to crack open his shell and see the real him. At first, hes a little cold, and hardly ever smiles, this making him hard to read as his emotions are very subtle, though his smug and dramatic demeanor shines through anyhow. Once you get to know him better, you'll find him showing that ever so slight smile more often, and youll see that hes really a total sweetheart, even if he has trouble showing it.( TSUNDERE). Even so hes very much a bitch, one that takes pride in how he dresses, and knows how to appreciate himself. ENOUGH OF THAT, BACK TO THE REFFS!!!!

Description: a large drawing of Ameryllis. There are notes above and beside. The notes are:

•The shorter hair on his left has a splityed part, resembling a triangle or curve.

• Permanent blush across Cheeks and Nose.

• Nose has slight darker color/highlight

• Freckles go across face, and above left brow, and go down the neck in a tight line before spreading a little.

• Cross earring.

Description: A large group of Ameryllis drawings, in the middle is an Outfit description labled 'Fit Check!' Notes surrounding these clothes follow:

• An arrow pointing to a yellow undershirt. The only thing visible when the shirt is worn are the classic puffy sleeves.

• An arrow pointing at a pair of black dress pants, with pockets in the back. To the right id an arrow pointing at a black hair tie.

• The unmarked clothing consists of a back tie/bow, a black cross earring, and a purple vest.

Description 1: Four upclose pictures of Ameryllis sketches. The first features Ameryllis tilting his head in a sly manner, with a grin, showing off a new look, which involves his hair somehow being even more curly then usual. Hes also replying to somehow not shown, saying "What else can I say? I like it~"

Description 2: The second sketch consists of Ameryllis saying his lines on stage, prefroming one of his plays or musicals. While his lines are blurred, his hair is tied for once.

Description 3: A drawing of Ameryllis. His facial expression has him looking in some sort of frustration. Nothing else is shown, so its not clear on if hes pissed at someone, or just done with everything. His hair is clipped into some sort of bun, with some hair hanging lose.

Description 4: A drawing of Ameryllis making a wry comment in mockery to someone not shown. The comment happens to be "Thats just too bad~". He has a pouty expression, seeming to be taunting someone.

Description: A Chibi drawing of Ameryllis.

Description: Two drawings of Ameryllis. The first features said character portraying an unapologetic manner, despite both shrugging and his words. His usual orange eye, is now red in an artistic choice, trying to convay that whoever he was speaking to is looking at someone dangerous. He has a sly grin while saying 'Opps~' which is implying he did something to someone in a ruthless manner.

The second drawing features a side profile of Ameryllis.

(1/2) I will reblog this in just a moment with a couple more drawings, along with the picrew i made his design in so you have a color pallet.

#talon.scribbles #Ameryllis #dolortale #covencalls

[enterpris]

An Education in Attraction, Chapter 11

Pairing: Reader x Gojo

Summary: It's spring when you start your Master's degree. As the flowers and leaves unfold, so too do your feeling for Gojo

Warnings: mild angst, mild depressed reader

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Ao3: PlaidSparrow

The end of the term arrives, marked only when you turn in your copy of the paper online. You don’t bother to run the edits you made by Gojo, but you’re proud of the final result. Once you’ve submitted the final paper for your Learning Theories class, the term quietly slips away.  

Summer break begins without any of the normal fanfare or excitement. Although you’re glad to have the break from daily classes, the time that’s been spent in years past relaxing and soaking up the sun will be taken up with preparation for the presentation. 

You give yourself a day to unwind and rest, and treat yourself to lunch at your favorite restaurant off campus after the emotional highs and lows of the last couple weeks. It is important to take care of yourself, after all. 

The next day, you create a document to plan the speech. You hope that he might be more active in planning after he’s solidified details for his conference, but after you share the document with Gojo, it seems your relationship with him has all but vanished, dissipated like the afternoon rain evaporating in the summer heat. 

While July usually brings some showers in Tokyo, the first week of your break it feels like the precipitation never stops. 

The soupy hot weather makes you less inclined to spend time outside during the interlude between classes. You do love to visit different parts of the country and take advantage of the wonderful opportunities Tokyo itself has to offer, but you don’t feel quite as motivated to go out and celebrate this year. The gray weather reflects your own mood. 

It doesn’t help matters that your timetable is abruptly blank. Meetings with Gojo and individual research had eaten up a significant amount of time the last few weeks, but you no longer have to fit those in. It would be nice to have more free time with your friends, but Kuzume left for her home after classes ended and you don’t want to monopolize all of Saito’s time. 

You throw yourself into the two remaining distractions you have- completing the outline for your presentation and teaching. 

There’s a considerable amount of pressure to write and give an excellent presentation- your partner is apparently well known in academia, and you’ll be on stage with him. You’d like to hold your head high and deliver your section with just as much confidence and poise as Gojo.  

Sometimes as you filter through the finished paper and write your speech outline, you see his cursor flicker as he makes his own edits in real time. You can nearly picture him flicking the pen over his fingers, scribbling on scrap paper before typing the final version. His outline isn’t half as organized as yours, but you can see the bones come together as he fills in the blanks. You wonder how his conference went, if it gets easier speaking to academic crowds. If you were on better terms maybe you’d ask for some pointers. 

There's a heaviness in your heart when you think about Gojo or see his name on your screen. It feels strange not to see him or talk at all after so much time spent together, and you’re certain some of his light hearted teasing would ease your nerves. 

In an effort to think of topics besides Gojo you let your mind wander between bouts of lesson planning and speech writing.

You’ve grown to love almost every part of living in Japan. You’ve adjusted to the culture, found work and friends, and the reason you even started this Master’s degree is to ensure you can build a future here.  

But even in the world’s most populated city, it’s easy to feel lonely. You miss Kuzume’s bright storytelling and Saito’s easy laughter as you walk to class. The loss of Gojo’s conversations and academically rigorous conversations stings. 

Without your circle of support in Tokyo easily accessible, the absence of your friends and family back home wells and crashes over you in a way you haven’t felt for years. You move through each day mechanically, and it’s easy to wonder if you’ve made the right decision in moving abroad. 

On the dry days sprinkled between the storms, you find yourself mostly content to stay on the university grounds. 

The campus is quiet, the normally bustling library and cafeteria are nearly empty over break, and it’s kind of nice to walk solo through the winding paths. In an effort to spend more time outside your dorm, you take up residence in the library for a couple days, letting the peace of the books and soft conversations of the librarians provide white noise for your work. 

It’s pleasant to be around other people, and you don’t want to completely waste your extra free time, so in the second half of the break, you make an effort to get out more. With renewed vigor, you visit some of your favorite museums in the city and take a day trip to the Kurkku Fields in Chiba Prefecture. 

The gloomy weather and doubts in your mind can’t quench the fire in your heart to prepare your students- current and future. 

In the Eikaiwa school, you converse with your students, learn more about what they’re interested in, and build brand new lesson plans. In the mornings before class, you brainstorm opportunities for your class to practice vocab in fun ways and how they can continue to improve outside of the classroom.

To avoid adding more homework to your students’ already full plates, you offer English books and additional grammar resources to those who want to learn more. Though some days (especially the sunny ones), the students are less focused or engaged, your class rises to the challenges you provide them, and you can hear the improvement in their speaking skills from even a few months ago. 

There’s no longer hesitation or whispered conversations when you give your class freedom to converse, and you can’t help the warmth in your chest when you see you’ve won their trust and attention. 

No matter how else you’re feeling, the pride and fulfillment that comes from your students' success validates that you’ve made the right choice to stay in Japan. 

As the break comes to a close, you are excited to resume classes and even happier to reconnect with your friends.  

When you grab dinner with Kuzume and Saito the weekend before the symposium, there’s a fresh energy and vigor that had been exhausted by the hard work at the end of the first term. The tinkle of glasses and laughter in the vibrant bar mirrors the lively conversation at your small table. 

“It’s gonna be good to have a fresh start. I mean, we’re a quarter of the way done with the degrees already!”

“I have heard the next two classes aren’t as much work as the last two,” you agree. 

The drinks are full, dinner is wonderfully fragrant and delicious, and you’re feeling the brightest you have all break. The rain has held off and in another few short months, you’ll have completed half of the program and be well on your way to teaching more than just English. 

“You know,” Saito says, “I think they put the hardest classes at the beginning to weed out students. And after this term we’ll be able to student teach!” 

“Finally!” Kuzume laughs. “I don’t think I could stand another term reading 30 texts. I want my guitar back in my hand.”

Saito laughs, “I’m not going to miss all those readings either. At least the papers I’ll have to grade will be shorter!”

“It’ll be really nice to teach something else other than English,” you agree. 

You indulge in another round of drinks and the conversation shifts away from school. Kuzume fills you in on how her family in Matsue is doing, and Saito lets your table know she’s started seeing a nice girl who works in the Agricultural and Life Sciences department. 

The hours stretch into the night, and before it gets any later your group decides to head home. 

The night is clear, and the three of you decide to indulge in the warm evening and walk home from the bar. The lights of the city twinkle and flash, bright as stars come to earth, and even this late at night there are plenty of pedestrians whose conversations melt together in the stream of city noise.

You love Tokyo. 

The bright sidewalks aren’t as radiant as your spirits are tonight. Kuzume’s laugh is beaming as Saito describes her father’s latest academic work. Magnets are a notorious difficulty in physics and are apparently causing quite the trouble. She can hardly finish the story before breaking into laughter herself. 

Saito’s apartment off campus comes first on your journey home, with promises of breakfast and another study group this term.

Then you and Kuzume continue home. Your shoulders bump and you laugh and chat about her trip back into the city. The crowds slowly thin as you approach the university, conversation and traffic slowing to a trickle by the time you reach the graduate student dorms. Kuzume lives a couple buildings over, so you walk together to her room first. 

She turns to you and gives you a fond smile. 

“It’ll be a good term. I know it.” 

On the short walk back to your own room, you can’t help but agree. This term will bring cooler weather, less stressful assignments, and the ability to continue developing as a teacher. All things that you can handle and that will help you grow.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #light academia #reader insert #jjk x reader #gojo #EiA #fics

[bangtanflirt]

From Bully To Boy-Toy (Part 2 of 2)

Pairing: Jimin x Fem Reader

NSFW CONTENT: 18+ ONLY

Summary: When the campus bully makes you his target, you happen to stumble upon the submissive secret he’s been keeping.

Part 1

Warnings: secretly submissive Jimin, bully Jimin, condescending asshole Jimin,  soft femdom, thighjob, very brief handjob, humiliation and degradation kink, (not extreme), slight blackmail kink, a dash of revenge plotline

____

It’s been eighteen hours since you ran out of Jimin’s apartment. Eighteen hours of processing what happened and successfully avoiding the man in question—not that it was hard, considering he had made no move to see you either. However, the dreaded time has come: your mechanical engineering class.

It’s alright y/n, just don’t look back and you won’t have to see him at all. Start fake coughing two minutes early so you can excuse yourself and be far gone by the time he gets out. Easy.

And through that mental pep talk do you finally find the courage to walk into class.

___

Apparently, you’ve been worried for nothing. Your plan of looking straight ahead has been working splendidly—with just a measly six minutes left before the scheduled coughing mission. You begin to relax into your seat more, guard coming down as class nears its end.

“Before I let you all go, I have to say that the scores for the first exam are in, and I’m very impressed with the overall class average! Now, it’s no secret that my exams are almost impossible to earn a perfect score in…but two of you managed to do just that. This is the first time I’ve ever had more than one person in the same class have a perfect score, so I think it’s only fitting to celebrate these students. Miss y/n + y/l/n and mister Park Jimin, please stand up!”

What the fuck.

Your positive that there’s a deity above you laughing their ass off right now.

With wobbly legs and sweaty palms, you stand up. Adding fuel to the fire, Professor Cho makes the two of you share how you studied and advice for the other students, keeping you there until the last damn second of class.

You spill out of class in a hurry, with your bag not even zipped up. Well, not zipped up until someone comes up behind you and zips it…the one person you did not want to ever see again. Without warning, he pulls you by the backpack strap to the nearest storage room.

“Did you tell anyone about what you saw yesterday?”

He’s staring you down, but the usually menacing look has a glint of hesitance in it.

“No”

“Good. You saw nothing, understand? Speak of it to anyone and I’ll make your life hell on earth.”

You nod, wanting the interaction to be over already. You’re about to reach for the door handle when he speaks up again.

“Also, I read your essay and it was pretty mediocre, so I decided not to turn it in.”

 You freeze, confusion and shock taking over.

“What…what do you mean?”

“I submitted the one I wrote instead.”

“You wrote one? B-but you told me to—”

“I know what I told you sweetheart. This was the plan y/n. It wasn’t about getting you to write my paper—I think the exam scores prove I know the material like the back of my hand—it was about making sure you don’t have time to write your own. You were getting a little close to my class ranking, so I thought I’d knock you down a peg. Besides, I would never turn in someone else’s work…that’s cheating, silly!”

That’s when your blood starts boiling. You’ve slaved over that essay for weeks and this is why? So Park Jimin could play you like a pawn in his egotistic 4D chess game? You don’t know if it’s the sleep deprivation, stress, or caffeine high that makes you snap, but those words bring all of your rage and frustration to the forefront.

Before you know it, you’re lunging and cornering him between your body and the wall. It’s clear on his startled face that he wasn’t expecting any push back.

Your voice holds a steady rage: enough to get your message across without being loud enough for anyone to come check the storage room.

“You’re such a fucking lowlife. You know that, Park? Thinking you can do whatever you want just because you have daddy’s wallet. Everything’s just a game, isn’t it? I was torturing myself trying to write your paper all the while you were jerking off on your pillow to some femdom fetish porn. Fuck. You.”

The distraught look on the boy’s face gives you satisfaction…but it’s when he looks down and shifts uncomfortably that you realize he’s not distraught for the reasons you thought.

This man is unbelievable.

The rational part of your brain would walk out of there right now, but that part has checked out for the day. Instead, you find yourself eyeing the man like prey. Maybe it’s time to make him squirm the way he likes to make others.

“Oh, this is rich. Did me yelling at you really get you hard, Park?”

He gulps, heart beating loud enough to break out of his chest.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

Your new sultry tone causes a soft whine to escape his lips. He feels his cock strain against his jeans.

“y/n, don’t play with me like this”

The way he whines your name is heavenly.

“But I want to play with you” you pout in faux innocence, raking your nails across his chest, “I want to play with you and watch you break the way you did to me…made me write that entire essay for your sick twisted pleasure. I was going to be the bigger person and forget what I saw yesterday, but I don’t think you deserve to be let off the hook so easy. Maybe I’ll tell everyone.”

There’s a sadistic glint in your eyes and Jimin doesn’t know if he’s more terrified by your threat or turned on.

“p-please no”

“Why not? Don’t want the whole campus to know the dirty things that get you hard, hm?”

He shakes his head fervently, still moving around to get any kind of friction from his jeans.

“That looks uncomfortable” you say eyeing his crotch, “want some help?”

His jaw slacks open at your offer, mind in a frenzy trying to figure out if your serious or if it’s a cruel joke. But his cock is in control now.

“Yes! Yes, please touch me!”

You smirk, stepping back and finding a box to perch yourself onto. Jimin eyes the skin your bunched up skirt exposes.

“Strip.”

He complies with lightening speed, practically tearing the clothes off his body until he’s wearing nothing but his honeyed skin. His cock stands tall against his abdomen, pink tip curved just slightly. You can’t help but chuckle at the way he’s awaiting further instruction. Boy, could I get used to this.

You motion for him to come closer, until he’s standing right between your thighs The next sentence you utter surprises you just as much it does him.

“I want you to jerk off using my thighs.”

The words are blunt and crude but saying them gives your lower half a jolt of electricity like never before., and Jimin isn’t faring any better either.

Nervously, he guides his cock in between your closing thighs, hissing at the feeling of being enveloped in by your soft skin. There’s more than enough precum leaking for his manhood to slide into a rhythm, but you spit down on it for good measure—and the boy almost blows his load at that sight alone.

It’s not long before his embarrassed, tentative movements turn into wanton, messy ones. You relish in his expressions each time his cock fucks into your thighs.

“I wish this could be broadcasted on every tv on campus. Park Jimin, the guy who acts all tough and pushes everyone around, moaning like a desperate whore. You know, if you weren’t such a dick all the time, maybe I’d let you fuck my pussy. But you decided to be an insufferable prick, so all you get is the privilege of rutting into my thighs like a little bitch.”

His moans get louder, forcing you to put a hand over his mouth for the sake of discretion. As much as you enjoy teasing Jimin with the idea of being caught, you’d lose your shit if anyone actually caught you doing this.

You notice his movements getting even sloppier—if possible. His breath is also more erratic, and you know he’s close.

In one swift motion, you release him from your thighs and use a hand to grip him instead. Three seconds of squeezing and stroking is all it takes for all that built up tension to burst onto his stomach, the floor, and your thighs.

The man holds onto you for the duration of his orgasm, legs too wobbly to trust on their own. He stays there for a minute after, collecting himself post-bliss. When his breathing steadies, he dares make eye contact, but much more meekly than ever before. His cheeks are dusted with a bright red blush, and his hands try to cover as much of his lower half as possible.

You take a nearby roll of paper towels and wipe your thighs clean, then toss it to the naked man.

“Clean everything up before you leave” you order, hopping off the box and heading towards the door.

“Wait!”

You quirk a brow, nudging the man to speak.

“Can we—um—do this again?”

You toss your head back in laughter,

“Of course we can. You had your plan, and now I have mine. I’m going to turn you into the dumbest little toy imaginable, too busy thinking with your cock to worry about things like grades and class rank—or how to piss off everyone around you. Get ready, Park, because this is just the beginning of your downfall.”

You turn on your heel and head straight out, leaving the dumbstruck mess of a boy covered in and surrounded by the remnants of his humiliating orgasm.

More humiliating than that though…you got him fucking hard again.

____

A/N: Very grateful for all the positive feedback the first part got. Thank you to those of you who interact, because it motivates me to write more! As always, have a great day.

Taglist: @hzbbtsfanficrecs @namjooncrabs @kseoknj @taeriffic @pjmin-95 @cashia​ @ivykl33n​

#jimin x reader #sub jimin #jimin smut #bully jimin #bts university au #sub bts #domme reader

[jerzwriter]

High Seas (1 / 2)

I am so catching up on fic requests this week! lol This one is for my bestie, sister from another mister, and soon-to-be NYC jail cell partner (lol nah, we'll be good!) @icecoffee90 based on this ask. I decided to make it a 2-parter. I hope you're OK with that. I hope you enjoy this!

Book: Open Heart (Post Series)

Characters: Tobias Carrick x F!MC, Ethan Ramsey

Category: Fun Fluff?

Words: 1,200

Summary: Casey and Tobias have been looking forward to their vacation plans, a cruise on the high seas with some old Hopkin's friends as well. But when work gets in the way, Casey has a suggestion. Can she sell it?

A/N: Part two will be up tomorrow - This is just some light-hearted fun and I hope you enjoy it. Participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge - I could make it stargazing or sunglasses? It's definitely a summer vacation - does that work Dani? lol? Thank you!

Casey walked into Tobias’s office sheepishly, without saying a word. She turned around and leaned against the locked door. Knowing what that typically meant, he broke into a lascivious grin, but Casey’s scrunched-up face and worried demeanor left him perplexed.   

“Babe...” she grimaced.

“Yes....” he simpered with a raised brow.

“No,” she corrected with a nervous giggle. “It’s not that... not this time, at least. I’m afraid I have some... news.”

His shoulders dropped as his eyes widened. “Oh, shit... you’re not pregnant, are you?”

“What? No!” she shot back incredulously. “Tobias, that happened once, and now every time I have news, you assume that’s it? Besides, I thought you wanted ten kids or something.”

“More like five, but Sammy is barely six months old. Sweetheart,” he smiled as he rose to embrace her, his lips meeting hers in a tender, delightful kiss to seal his wordless apology. “For the record, I would be delighted... but we said we wanted to space the Carrick Pack out a little more, that’s all.”

“Well,” she attempted to worm out of his embrace with a bashful smile that was the very opposite of his devious grin. This man was entirely too proud of the effect he had on her. “Once you hear my news, you’ll probably wish it was Carrick Bambino 2.0.”

His face grew serious as he leaned against his desk, and his wife collapsed into his visitor’s chair.

“Case... you’re OK, right? You’re not sick or something?”

“No, no...” she assured. “Nothing like that. I didn’t mean to frighten you. But remember that proposal I submitted to the governor’s office?”

“The one about expanding free healthcare to children in the state’s poorest communities? Sure, how could I forget? You put your heart and soul into that project – pregnant and all.”

“Well, it paid off... I got a call from the Lieutenant Governor, and well... they loved the proposal and asked if Naveen and I could put a presentation together for them. They’d like to make it happen.”

“Hon! That’s incredible!” He gasped, face glowing with pride. “What are you doing, scaring me like that? This is wonderful news... the best! Why would I be unhappy?”

“It’s... the timing,” she sighed. “The Governor and her healthcare committee only had two days available to meet with us.... both during the week we were supposed to be on our cruise.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, baby. I know how much we’ve been looking forward to it... but this project is so important and,” she stopped when she saw his face fall. “... and I supposed I can bring someone else up to speed and let them take the meeting. It’s just...”

“Oh, No!” he interrupted, taking her hand. “Baby girl, you worked your ass off on that proposal, and I’m so proud of you! No way are you handing all your hard work over to someone else at this stage. Besides, no one believes in it as much as you – and it’s too important. You have to be there. We’ll go on a cruise another time.”

Casey glanced at him with a playful smirk. “Did you put cancellation insurance on the trip like I told you to?”

The mischievous gleam in his eyes answered her before he did. “Have I told you how proud I am of you? And how absolutely beautiful you look today?”

“So, that’s a no on the insurance,” Casey laughed.

“I don’t care. We’ll lose the money. Or I’ll see if we can transfer the trip to someone else.”

“But it’s with your old Hopkins friends! I don’t want you to miss out, so I have the perfect solution. Ethan only declined so we could go together. But, if I can’t go, I can hold down the Diagnostic Team with Harper and Baz, and Ethan can go with you.”

“Uhm, no.”

“Uhm, yes. I already called the cruise line. They said we could transfer the ticket to his name. Plus, it would be nice for you to see your old friends together without your old ball and chain there.”

His lips pursed and he gave her with a reprimanding stare. “When have I ever referred to you as my ball and chain!”

“I’m teasing,” she reassured. “But come on, tell me it wouldn’t be fun for you and Ethan to go on a trip with your old med school friends? As much as I’ll miss you, it’s not such a terrible outcome.”

“It’s not terrible,” he groaned. “But I wanted a little romantic getaway with my wife, too. Ethan is no use to me there.”

“True. But you can cancel the romantic suite with the jacuzzi and change to a standard room, but go! Sammy and I will be fine, you get some friend time and will be back before you know it. All we need to do is get Ethan to agree. What do you say?”

“One condition. I get to Zoom in for your presentation. No way I’m going to miss watching my wife kicking ass.”

“Oh, but Hon,” she grinned, slipping into his arms and playfully toying with the lapels on his lab coat. “But then you’ll be all turned on and so far away... is that a good idea?”

“Sure is. Imagine how worked up we’ll be for the reunion when I get back,” he winked.

“So, then it’s a deal?”

“As long as Ethan’s on board, it’s a deal.”

~~~~~

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Ethan scowled.

Tobias turned to Casey. “See, what did I tell you?”

“Ethan, you can stop pretending you don’t like Tobias. You were our best man. You’re Sammy’s godfather. You practically live at our house on your days off....”

“That’s just to see Samantha,” he interrupted.

“You’re so full of shit!” Casey joked. “I know being curmudgeonly is your brand, but shut up and go! Are you afraid I’ll destroy the DT while you’re gone?”

“No,” Ethan insisted. “It’s not like I’m leaving Carrick in charge, for God’s sake.”

“Well, technically, you are,” Tobias teased. “She is Casey Carrick now, remember?”

“Yeah, the poor thing,” Ethan scowled. “But you know what I meant!”

“Come on,” Tobias cajoled. “It’s been a long time since you and I spent with the old crew. As much as I’d rather be with Casey than you, and, frankly, as much as they’d rather be with Casey than you... it’ll still be fun.”

Ethan’s expression softened as he stared into the distance. “We did have some fun times together in the past.”

“Sure as hell did,” Tobias agreed.

“And you don’t mind?” Ethan asked Casey.

“It was my idea! I’d love to be there, but this presentation is too important to me. Vivian promised she’ll help me with Sammy, and I’d be happy to know you two clowns are off having fun.”

“Sounds like you have it all worked out,” Ethan replied.

Tobias reached over and poked his friend in the arm. “So, is that a yes?”

“I may live to regret this, but fine. I’ll go.”

“Yey!!!” Casey clapped.

“See that,” Ethan smirked. “She’s already happy to get rid of you.”

“Shit!” Tobias laughed, “I’m shocked it took this long for that to happen.”

“Oh, God,” Casey rolled her eyes. “Just promise me you won’t push each other overboard.”

“No promises, babe. If he’s gone, one of us is up for a promotion.”

“Now, that’s premeditated.”

Casey shook her head. “I have a feeling I may live to regret this.”

Part 2

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Other tags in Reblog

#choices fanfic #open heart #open heart choices #choices open heart #ethan ramsey #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #playchoices fanfic #choices the stories you play #playchoices

[jadeee]

Vendetta Ch. 12, Part 2: The Storm

📰 read chapters 1 - 12 here!

Warnings: angst, swearing, & violence

Word Count: 4.8k

divider by @saradika ©️

Your heart beat in your ears as you approached the stand. Martin spent the last few weeks prepping you and the others for this moment. Day in and day out. When you woke up, you ran through your testimony and you did it again before you went to sleep. Everything led up to this very moment, so why did you feel sick?

Your hand rested on the leather bible as you looked straight ahead "So help me God."

Chris, Rocky, and Taylor had already went. The trial had been going on for a few days already and you were fine then. You knew what to expect but as Martin stood in front of you now, you clenched your hands in your lap. He locked eyes with you and nodded softly. You gave him a small nod back.

"What's your favorite thing about living in California?"

"Objection, your honor." Floyd's lawyer, Jack Fleming, stood "Irrelevant."

"Sustained, Mr. Martin get to the point." The judge glanced at him with tired eyes.

Martin nodded "Compared to living in New York, how's life different?"

"It's better. I don't feel like I have to look over my shoulder all the time. Or at least, I felt that way before Floyd came back."

"How has your life changed since that night?"

"I'm paranoid... I keep thinking what if the law doesn't protect us, again? What then? We could move but he'd just keep following us. Until we're dead."

"What did Floyd do to you when you were kidnapped?"

"He drugged me, tied me up, and threw me off the pier. He left me for dead."

Martin approached you, "Why did he want you dead?"

"To hurt my husband. For revenge."

Martin faced the court then held up a photograph and passed it around the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is a picture of my client's wrists the night they survived that attack. If you look closely today, you can still see the bruises."

Martin took the photograph back and set it aside then faced you "What do you want when this is all over?"

"... peace of mind."

He looked at the judge "No further questions, your honor."

Jack stood with a grin and walked toward you "Does that work on everybody?"

"I don't understand the question."

"Your pity-me-victim act. You're in the film business so it would make sense."

"Objection, relevance." Martin said cooly. 

"Sustained."

Jack raised his hand and smirked "My apologies." He stepped closer "I'm just in awe of someone like you."

You remained silent.

"Before you met Nicholas Valentino, no one ever heard of you. Then you show up and not only does his life change but so does my client's, except it's for the worst."

Your eyes wanted to look at Nicky's who wasn't too far off but you heard Martin's voice in your head. His advice from your various mock trials filled your mind: He's going to get under your skin but don't let him see you break. You look him dead in the eye and stand your ground. Whatever you do, do not break on that stand or we lose this whole case.

Jack faced the court "Ladies and gentlemen, what the Valentinos won't tell you is how they attacked my client and coerced him into a false confession."

"Objection, hearsay."

"Overruled."

Martin clenched his jaw and stared at you. You didn't have to look, you could feel it. Do. Not. Break.

Your new nemesis had his back turned to you as he grabbed photographs and held them high in the air "Floyd was attacked by the Valentinos. They tricked him into coming to their production company, alone and under false pretenses, where they beat him to a pulp. They even knocked his tooth out," he faced you "Isn't that right, sugar?"

"That's not my name."

"Answer the question." the judge glanced over at you.

"No, that's not right. My husband did invite Floyd to the company to discuss a business deal. Things quickly went south when Floyd went in for a punch. We acted out of self defense."

The judge looked at Jack.

"Y'know what's funny? The police department got that confession tape you submitted but towards the end it just stops. Almost like something's missing. What happened to it?"

"I don't work cameras so I don't know."

He squinted his eyes "So we should get someone from your staff on the stand?"

You stared at him and he snickered. "One last thing: along with that missing footage, my client has bruises that are synonymous to being attacked with a baseball bat and brass knuckles. Yet when we searched the scene, we couldn't find those. Care to tell me about that?"

"I don't recall brass knuckles. All I remember is fighting to stay alive.. twice, because of your client."

He nodded "No problem, your husband should know how to answer that question given his history."

You tensed at the mention of his name yet again.

"Tell me, he put you up to this?"

"What?"

"He tell you to sit here and act pretty? Let daddy take care of everything? Let familia handle it, right? That's what mobsters do."

"Objection, badgering. Your honor, this is ridiculous!" Martin waved his hand.

You clenched your jaw. Do. Not. Break. Those sitting in the gallery became rowdy and the judge smacked the gavel "Order! Order!" He faced you "Answer the question."

"There's no question to be answered because what this man is insinuating is pure fiction. My husband would never do such a thing... unless you have any good questions, we're done here."

Jack slipped his hands into his pockets "No further questions, your honor."

You slowly rose from the stand and felt your legs go numb. As the bailiff helped you down, you heard Jack utter "Good performance."

The comment made your ears burn.

The judge tapped the gavel "Recess. Meet here in fifteen minutes."

You walked right past Nicky and the others and headed straight for the bathroom. You sat in front of the toilet until your knees felt raw. You felt like you had to puke but never did. There was a knock at the door of your stall.

"That better be morning sickness. I could use some good news, right now."

You chuckled at your husband's joke "Ha ha, very funny." You sniffled and wiped your nose.

"You shouldn't be in here, they'll call us 'rule breakers'."

"Who gives a shit?"

You looked over at his shoes which showed under the bathroom stall door. For some reason, seeing the black leather made you remember when you'd bought them and why. Although, you never bought them with the intention of wearing them to a court case.

Your hand reached up and unlocked the door. He stood back to let it swing open then glanced down at you with a soft smile.

"Hi."

Tears pricked your eyes "Hi."

"Why are you crying?" He sank down by your side and sat on the tile floor.

"I just want to go home."

"Okay, we'll go straight home after this is over. Then we can do the same thing tomorrow and the day after that. However long this damn case takes." He guided you to lay on his chest. 

"I'm gonna mess up your suit."

"I don't care." He caressed your back "Maybe it'll help our case. They'll call me 'loving husband'." 

When you laughed at his comment, he smiled at hearing his favorite sound for the first time that day.

"I could've choked that bastard with his own tie."

"Amore!" He pulled back and looked at you with shock and amusement. "In the courthouse?" He whispered.

You nodded and laughed. He wiped the last of your tears.

"He's gonna choke on his own words. Him and Floyd. We got a solid case, we just have to believe that."

You nodded again "You're right."

"And I could really use some of that gusto you had on the stand," he guided you back to his chest "pure fiction" he mimicked your tone from earlier.

You giggled at his impersonation of you "It was."

"I know," he rubbed your back. "I'd love to hide in this bathroom with you forever but we have to get back or we'll really be in trouble."

You nodded then started to get up but Nicky stopped you for a moment.

"What?!" You asked him. 

He studied your face for a second then kissed you "That's all."

After recess, there wasn't much action. The court simply reviewed the evidence and testimonies for that day before adjourning the trial for two days. That's when Nicky and Floyd would take the stand otherwise known by the media as "The Main Attraction". People did cling onto the fact that Dr. Parsons's spoke and backed up your testimony as well as Chris's. They even heard from Mr. Wilson who saw where you and Chris were kidnapped and how Nicky looked when he'd found out that night. There was also Officer Pratt who admitted his coldness on the case initially and that he should've followed Nicky's concern. What people didn't know, and even Floyd himself, was that Umberto was caught. He too would take the stand.

"Let's just stay inside."

"Are you sure? We aren't prisoners, y'know?" Nicky caressed your shoulder.

"I know but I don't want us to go out and be gawked at like we're some circus show. Plus, I know you testify soon and I don't want to put you on edge."

He sat up from the cushy pillows "I appreciate that."

"I know how things got when you heard about Maurizio and we never talked about it. Which I'm not forcing you to now, it's just... you seem a bit better and I don't want to ruin that."

"You wouldn't be ruining anything." his hand rested on top of yours. "You're right, let's just stay in today."

He glanced at you over his shoulder and you nodded.

Martin looked at his watch then back at Umberto.

"Forty five minutes, that's a new record."

Umberto remained silent and Martin sighed.

"As usual, thanks for wasting my time. Although, I do appreciate the silence. It gives me a nice break."

Umberto shook his head and smirked. "Don't you get it?"

"That you're stupid for not talking?" He nodded "I do."

Umberto scoffed.

"You could've asked for a deal."

"You wouldn't have given it to me."

"At least negotiate!" Martin chortled, "You're not even trying. You really think Floyd hasn't snitched on you already?"

He shook his head "I know he didn't."

"Oh really? Because you two are such good friends?" Martin leaned forward "No one gives a shit about you, so you're either going to cover your ass or let him walk all over it."

Umberto leaned back and crossed his arms.

"What'll it be?"

The two of you sat side by side. Nicky suddenly went quiet.

"What? Is it that bad?"

A slow smile spread across his face "No," he put his hand on his cheek "it just tastes like my mom's."

You shrunk back "You're kidding."

"I'm serious!"

You smiled softly and continued to eat the meal you cooked for the two of you.

As the hours passed, it seemed like you both forgot about your court case and all the other chaos that was happening in your lives.

You managed to sneak away while Nicky was reading a book and you set something up in a separate room. When you were ready, you made your way to him. 

"Nicky?"

"Hm?" He poked his head up to look at you.

"I want to show you something. Is now a bad time?"

"No, no, of course not." He set his book down then got up.

"Actually, you can bring that with you."

He scrunched his brows "Okay?" He grinned "What are you up to?"

You held his hand and led him towards the surprise.

"I've been working on something ..."

You both walked into the room and the tent made out of sheets glowed with the lamps you'd set up.

"It's kind of childish but I figured that's what we need right now." You let go of his hand and crawled into the makeshift fort you built then poked your head out. "Are you coming?"

He chuckled and crawled in and sat by you. He looked around at the pillows you carefully set up and the different snacks you brought. Stella walked in and sat in the middle of your fort. You scratched her ears then laid on a pillow, "So?"

"It's lovely." He laid near you and kissed your forehead. 

"I'm glad you like it."

You reached over and grab the book he brought with him. 

"What are you doing?!" He laughed softly as you reached over him.

"I'm about to read to you!"

He laughed softly while you settled back against the pillows with the book in your hand. You started to read and he kissed your temple, then your cheek and your jaw. You rested the book on your stomach, which his hand gently roamed over.

"Nicky," you turned and when you did so, he kissed you on your lips. His hand cupped your cheek as he pulled you closer to him.

"You really didn't expect me to make a move on you?"

Your shocked expression morphed into a smile.

"You're such a sweet talker."

"You love it though."

"I didn't say otherwise."

That day seemed like ages ago now as Nicky took the stand. Even though you weren't up there, your heart beat in your ears all over again. Martin approached Nicky and asked him the same questions you heard in your living room just last week. Nicky was even saying his answer in the same tone. He was cool, reserved, himself. How he did was a mystery to you still, despite knowing him inside and out.

"Nicholas, it's no secret you and Floyd have history. Some people still see you as the flashy guy from New York but that's changed. Tell me, how are you different?"

"I'm not. I'm still the same guy who'd go for a walk down the pier and watch the game. If anything, I'm less selfish and I've got my one and only to thank for that."

"Your spouse, correct?"

Nicky nodded.

"Will you tell me about the night they disappeared?"

"My spouse and cousin, Chris, went out to get something for dinner. They'd been gone for a while, about an hour, and I knew something was off. I had this feeling I couldn't shake... that's when I called Mr. Wilson."

"How did you know Floyd was behind it?"

"Because there's no one else in the world who would do what he did."

Martin nodded "Floyd not only attacked your spouse and your cousin but he also attacked you later the following morning. Can you walk us through that?"

"Sure," Nicky shifted in his seat "It was about two in the morning after I talked with the police. I knew he was going to show up at my home so I waited for him. Talking didn't last long so we got into it. He had backup, of course, and Chris was there. There was broken glass, Stella got involved and bit some of the guys, Chris got shot. That's when I took him to the hospital then I went to Goleta Pier shortly after, where I thought I lost my spouse for good... turns out they were home waiting for me."

Martin gave Nicky a half-hearted smile. "A few days ago, Floyd's lawyer talked about the confession tape that was turned into the police department. Can you explain why you decided to get Floyd's confession on tape?"

"Well, the police didn't bat an eye when I told them my spouse and cousin were kidnapped. There was no way in hell I was gonna let them disappoint me twice so I figured if we got his confession on tape, there's no denying it."

"Can you explain the missing footage from the confession?"

"That's when Floyd lunged at us and we acted in self defense. I didn't think it was necessary for people to see that. I didn't want to paint him as weak. After all, he's a big boy. He can stand up for himself." Nicky glanced at Floyd who was trying to keep calm in his borrowed suit.

Martin slid his hands into his pocket "I forgot to ask, what injuries did you suffer from your scuffle with Floyd? Dr. Parsons mentioned that you not only suffered physically but also pscyhologically."

Nicky's jaw clenched slightly and he nodded "I had some cuts and bruises but I had trouble sleeping... I was paranoid at times. I often shut people out and shut down. One day.. I felt like I couldn't breathe.. like the wind was just knocked out of me. I still feel that way sometimes."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Martin faced the judge "No further questions, your honor." 

He took his seat and said a silent prayer as Jack approached Nicky.

"How much did that suit cost you?"

Nicky buried his iconic smirk "Nothing, it was a gift."

"Oh, friends in high places?" he cocked his head.

"Objection, your honor. Relevance." Martin said in an annoyed tone.

"Overruled."

He tried not to roll his eyes as his nemesis proceeded.

"You've always been flashy, Mr. Valentino. Even before you moved to California. I mean, c'mon.."

"Style is subjective. I don't see how that's relevant to Floyd attacking me or my family."

"Oh, on the contrary. Y'know what I think," he inched closer to the stand "I think this whole thing is a set up. You did it for the money, the attention, the fame."

Nicky remained silent.

"No comment?"

He shook his head "Nothing you've said has been worth a response."

He scoffed and the judge rolled his eyes "Let's keep it moving, gentlemen."

"Apologies, your honor. Mr. Valentino?"

Nicky simply looked at him.

"It's no secret you've had a rough life. Especially, your childhood. You were involved in crime at a young age, were you not?"

Martin watched Nicky with a careful eye.

"Crimes such as?" Nicky retorted.

"Y'know," he shrugged "stealing, trespassing, typical stuff."

"Worst thing I did was steal a stuffed animal."

"That was for your sister, right?"

Nicky's eyes faltered for just a split second but you saw it from the bench.

"Sofia was her name?" The man moved closer to Nicky "Pretty na--"

"Objection, your honor! The defendant is attempting to rile up my client."

"Sustained." He looked down at Jack "Get to the point, quickly."

"I'm just saying, you'll do what you have to for the people you love. Isn't that right?"

"I think anyone in this room would agree to that statement."

"But I'm asking you specifically."

Nicky heard it the same moment you did. Do. Not. Break. "I love my family and friends, but if you're suggesting I'd go so far as to murder someone for them. You're wrong." I'd do more than that, he thought to himself but he said "It'd only hurt everyone in the end and what's the point in that?"  

The lawyer stood still and looked at Nicky like he was a stain that wouldn't go away. 

"Earlier, you said you beat Floyd out of self defense. How'd you do it?"

"With my hands."

"You use brass knuckles?"

He shook his head.

"Cat got your tongue?"

"No. No, I didn't use brass knuckles."

"So you, took down someone Floyd's size?"

"I defended myself."

"To the point where you knocked out teeth?"

"Objection, badgering." Martin said without even looking away from the scene.

"Sustained."

Jack hissed softly "Weren't you two friends at some point?"

Nicky chuckled in disbelief "Absolutely not."

"This man was like a father to you when yours couldn't even stand up straight. How dare you sit there all high and mighty?"

Nicky smirked and he shook his head "My old man was more than Floyd will ever be. He made an honest living, Floyd can't say the same... you think I want to be here? On this stand, in front of half of the city?! All I want is to be home with my heart, that's it."

"And you'd do anything to get there, wouldn't you?! Like lie to Floyd to get him alone under false pretenses just to beat him to death."

Nicky glanced at Jack then Floyd "I'm sorry you think you're going to get away with this."

"Don't look at him, look at me!"

He looked at him "I'm sorry for the both of you."

The judge spoke over Jack who started ranting and raving "You're done. No further questions for Mr. Valentino."

"But your honor, I'm not finished!"

"You should've thought about that before you started foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog."

You watched Nicky descend the stand and tried not to smile.

"You were glorious." You wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him.

"Hey," he chuckled "people will think we're celebrating." He hugged you back.

"Why not?! I have an idea. Let's go the park, just for a quick stroll. We could get some ice cream?"

"Hm... it is a nice day out." He surveyed the blue sky.

"We wouldn't advise that." An officer stepped forward and spoke up.

"C'mon, you've been trailing us for months now. The case just started about a week ago and we're still safe. We can go out to the park for just a few minutes."

You pleaded and felt Nicky's thumb stroke the back of your hand. "You guys will be close?"

The officer nodded and looked back at the other officers who were with him.

You and Nicky walked hand in hand eating your ice cream cones and basking in the sun.

"How are you not messing up your lipstick?" He glance over at you.

"It's a skill. Plus, you can mess it up later." You teased.

He made a flirty face and bumped shoulders with you which made you smile. He wondered if he could make you do it again.

"I really love when you do that."

"What?" You finished off your ice cream cone as he looked at you "What?!"

"When you do anything..."

"I don't believe you."

He chuckled and finished his ice cream cone "Why not?!"

"Because that's so unrealistic," you laughed and he smiled. That was twice now. Maybe he could go for a third time. "So, all I have to do is breathe and you're obsessed?"

He cupped your cheeks in his hands and looked at you tenderly "You don't have to do anything to make me love you. It just happens. I look at you and it just happens, like breathing or blinking or.." he tried to find the words.

"Like eating?" You chuckled.

"Yeah," he chuckled "like eating but all of my favorite foods could never equate to you."

You held onto his wrists and went in for a kiss.

When he was about to duck down, he had that feeling again. The one he spoke about in the courtroom except this time it was back. He noticed something far off or rather, someone. It couldn't be. It didn't look like him but why was he pointing a gun at your back?

Nicky wrapped his arms around you and switched places with you. You shouted as you fell to the ground then blacked out when you heard screaming, running, and a pop. He was lying on top of you.

"Nicky?" Your breathing picked up when he didn't answer "Nicky?" Your voice cracked.

A handful of officers rushed towards the two of you. You wrapped your arms around him and your hands felt wet. When you pulled them back, you saw red.

"No, no, no," you sat up slowly and let him lay in your lap. "Hey, hey," you held his bobbing head in your hands. "Nicholas? Nic-- Nicky?!" You tapped his cheeks and he moved in his half conscious state. The officers surrounded you and the rest was a blur.

Minutes later the ambulance showed up and you rode in the back, holding his hand whenever the paramedics let you. You relished in it since you knew you couldn't be with him when they took him back to the operating room.

Rocky and Chris were there as soon as he went into surgery. You immediately broke into tears when you saw them. They both hugged you and you felt your legs give out. If it weren't for them holding you up, you would've been sprawled out on the floor.

Eventually, the tears stopped flowing. Chris got you something for your eyes since they were hot from crying. Rocky got you something to drink.

"It's my fault. I wanted to go to the park. If I didn't--"

"No, don't do that. He wouldn't want you to do that." Rocky rubbed your shoulders "C'mon kid, it's gonna be alright. It's gotta be alright." 

And just like that, the tears came back and you buried yourself in his chest. He rubbed your back as you released heaving sobs for what felt like the seventeenth time. Chris came back with a cold compress but set it aside when he saw Rocky holding you close and letting you cry into his shirt.

Moments later, the sobs had reduced into sniffles and puffy eyes. Chris sat with you in the lobby while Rocky went to the chapel. You let the cold compress rest on your eyes. Seeing black felt odd. It made you wonder: What Nicky was seeing right now? Was he out yet? Was he okay? You sniffled and tried not to cry again.

"I need to see him." Your voice cracked.

"They'll get us when he's ready," Chris took your hand in his and you cried again. His own eyes filled with tears as he heard you whimper and sob into your free hand. Rocky gave you a hankerchief earlier but it was soaked.

Chris noticed you weren't using it, so he gave you some tissues he jammed into his pocket earlier. The gesture made you cry more and you held your head in your hands.

When you managed to barely compose yourself, you stepped away into the restroom. You looked in the mirror and noticed your eyes were practically swollen shut from all the crying you'd been doing. You created a pool of water in your hands and let your eyes rest in the cool for a few moments. Before you left, you wiped the lipstick off of your face. The crimson red did nothing but remind you of your husband's blood on your hands. There was a knock at the door.

"One second," your voice faltered as you scrubbed the last of the lipstick off.

"It's Rocky. Nicky's awake." 

You ran to the door and flung it open, nearly knocking Rocky in the head and sending him to his own hospital bed. 

"Where's the nurse? I want to see him."

"I know. C'mon," he held your hand and walked past the lobby. Chris stood and joined you two to see Nicky. The nurse approached you as you started to cross the threshold.

"He's still out of it, so only one visitor at a time."

You nodded and looked back at Chris and Rocky.

"What are you waiting for?" Chris asked you.

Rocky gestured for you to go first "He could care less about us right now."

You pressed your lips together then walked into the room. You sat down in the chair next to Nicky's bed and noticed his tossled hair, flushed skin, and the IV in the back of his hand. Where was his wedding ring? 

You looked around and saw it in a small container on the table next to you. You opened it then heard him move slightly. When you looked back, you saw him opening his eyes. He smiled softly at you, his eyes still half shut.

"Hi, amore mio."

"Hi," you gently rubbed his wrist and kissed his forehead. 

His eyes opened some more "Why'd you take off the lipstick?"

You smiled then started crying again.

He offered you his hand but you just rested your head on his arm. He caressed your shoulder since that was as far as he could reach.

"I was so worried about you." You kissed his hand then slid his wedding band back onto his finger.

"Are you proposing to me?" He chuckled then clutched at his side and grimaced "Mmph, don't make me laugh."

"I wasn't being funny." You sat on the edge of his bed and he looked at you. 

His eyes opened up some more as they adjusted to the light "Can you stay here?"

"Of course I can, but Chris and Rocky want to see you and it's only one visitor at a time."

"Stay a bit longer. They'll be alright."

You bent down and kissed his forehead. A tear fell from your eyes and landed on his skin.

Author's Note: This was heart-wrenching but also one of my favorites to write. That lawyer Jack is really something, huh? Also, I'm debating on how I wanna write the next chapter since Floyd will be testifying and Nicky will definitely wanna be there although he just got shot {he's so stubborn, he'll probably hobble in there}. I think the next chapter will be the last! Knowing me, it'll be another two-parter haha 🥂until then, take care!

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#nicky valentino vendetta #fictif nicky valentino #fictif nicky #nicky valentino fictif #nicky valentino #nicholas valentino #nicky tatw #fictif tatw #fictif two against the world #nicky valentino x mc #nicky valentino x reader #madebyjade

[eruden-writes]

Room & Board - Part 8 - (Tabaeus x Reader)

Anon submitted this prompt: For the prompt submissions a vampire that feels guilty after feeding/attacking someone so they leave obscenely valuable ancient artifacts as payment/an apology?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 (coming soon)

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After the ordeal of dealing with Jemma and setting up a cage for the gliders, the following weeks, ironically, were quiet.

Or maybe you were just so laser-focused on finding a house, nothing else permeated your thoughts.

Tabaeus and you continue the established feeding schedule. They still ‘snacked’ when they could get away with it. However, they did honor your denials. An unforeseen benefit of the sugar gliders was Tabaeus wasn’t prone to lonely wanderings to find you when you went to work. It was honestly a relief. The day after he brought the new furry family members home, you’d been so concerned they’d show up again. It was almost eerie when they didn’t.

Your real estate search also eventually bears fruit.

The house you find, the one that calls out to you, is an old house, built in the 1800s, with four bedrooms and two bathrooms. A lovely shade of blue, with a large porch and fenced-in backyard. There’s even two stone gargoyles that keep watch from the stoop.

It is located downtown, in an older part of the city. Which essentially means a diverse neighborhood filled with old homes, remodels, renters, and homeowners along with families, childless couples, and singletons.

With two stories, plus a basement and attic, it’s roomy enough for your - grudgingly - growing family- …er, roomateship? Plus there’s a detached garage and roomy kitchen with plenty of storage for appliances. Off the dining room, a greenhouse is attached. The basement is unfinished, which means Tabaeus is less likely to sleep there, but the freezer the previous owner left behind made up for it.

Strangely, it has been on the market for the better part of a year. Either no one had placed an offer or the owner was excessively picky. Regardless, you contacted your real estate agent and asked for a tour. You and Tabaeus walked through the house, pointing out little things you liked and little problems that would need fixing.

By the end, however, the two of you agreed it certainly felt like home. From there, it had been back-and-forth discussions, inspections, and negotiations. It looked like the closing was on the horizon. Which meant gathering the additional funds together for the house and closing costs was needed.

That led you to your current undertaking with Tabaeus. Which entailed the two of you bumbling about in the local sewers.

“Why in the world do you have a cache of treasure here?” It’s not the first time you ask the question and it likely won’t be the last. Every inch of your body is covered in clothing, plus a mask to fight off the stench of the sewage. The acrid scent still manages to get into your nose and you’re certain you’ll have to burn the clothes once you get back to the apartment.

Tabaeus throws you a look, as if to say ‘Are you genuinely asking that of I, your amnesiac vampire friend?’ Their expression is no less stormy than yours.

They are dressed in just as much as you, in a dark hoodie, their hair tucked under the hood, and long pants and boots. Only their red glowing eyes are visible above their mask. An odd comfort, you realize.

Your expression doesn’t falter and they sigh, shoulders slumping as they turn their flashlight back down the corridor. “I honestly do not know. I just know it is here.”

“Well, hurry it up. We’re not even supposed to be down here.” You hiss, jumping out of the way of a rat scurrying by.

“Patience,” Tabaeus sighs, swinging their lone beam of light to and fro. They’re mumbling to themselves, their gloved hand tracing the wall. There’s no way a hidden compartment or room is down here, you think. There’s literally no way. The city would know about it! And if the city knew about it, it would’ve been pilfered a long time ago.

Something pinged at Tabaeus’s memory as they started to stride with more purpose. You followed after them, weakly hoping this wasn’t an utterly useless endeavor. It would just figure that, once you pursued a house, your vampire patron would run dry in finances. Or just not be able to find their literal treasure trove.

You’re not sure how they managed to do it, but you watch as Tabaeus’s touches a certain spot in the wall and twists a nearby knob. For a breathless second, you tense, waiting to hear the clatter of broken pipes or heightened water pressure. But you hear the sound of metal and rock shifting and your eyes widen as an entryway slides open in the wall.

Tabaeus glances to you over their shoulder, a teasing smirk in their voice as they hold out their hand to you. “See? The universe rewards those who hold their tongue.”

You accept their hand, but shoot them a sharp look. It only makes their smirk broaden as they turn to lead you through the darker-than-pitch corridor. Your heart pounds as the world around you turns to deep shadows. There’s no way to spy any silhouettes or make out faint shapes of pipes or gaskets. It’s all so dark. And quiet. You don’t even hear the skittering of rats.

It grows even darker as the door slides shut behind you. You jerk, turning to look, but only see a blanket of black. Fear dances in your stomach.

Sensing your apprehension, Tabaeus gives your hand a squeeze. “I am here.”

“I know,” you mumble as you turn back around, your face flaring with embarrassed heat. Their presence is part of the problem, though. They are a vampire. They feast on your blood. And though you two have grown closer, more amicable, you’re worried where this all will end. It may not be tomorrow or in the year or even in ten years, but Tabaeus could always turn on you and then go on with their life.

Whenever you think of the disparate lifespans between you two, you find yourself wondering if you made a mistake.

“I believe this is it,” Tabaeus says, rousing you from your thoughts. “Shield your eyes a moment.”

You do as they say, before you listen to Tabaeus fumble in the dark. There’s a click and you see lights flash behind your eyelids. Carefully, you squint open your eyes, letting them slowly adjust. After a few rapid blinks, your eyes widen.

It appears to be a huge corridor, with a tiled ceiling - plastered with cobwebs - and arching buttresses. Thankfully, it seems relatively dry, with no oozing sewage to squelch underfoot. It’s not until your eye catches the dip in the floor, where railroad track is laid, that you realize this is an old train station or, perhaps, a closed section on a route. You take a few steps farther down the line. The lighting casts a slightly yellow tint on everything in the vicinity. And there is certainly a lot in the vicinity.

Furniture, racks of clothing, mannequins, shelving. It’s a mishmash of things from different decades, perhaps even eras. You try to peer down the corridor, but the haphazard piles seem to go on forever with only carefully carved paths between their bases. The mingling scent of dust and mildew hang heavy in the air, along with rotting wood, but there’s perfumes you wouldn’t expect. Faintly, you wonder if there’s colognes or potpourris in the mess of miscellany.

Tabaeus suddenly appears again at your elbow and you jump with a yelp.

“My apologies,” they say, offering you an awkward smile. At some point, they had lowered the mask they wore and it hung beneath their chin. In their hands is a large wooden box, an ancient latch on its side.

You nod to it. “What’s in there?”

“Replenished funds!” With a flourish, they open the lid to show off the contents. Inside are more gold coins and jewelry and gems. Much of it looks about the same time period as the other payments you’ve taken from them.

“Why don’t you live here?” The thought strikes you quick and you glance around again. It is roomy and, with a little bit of elbow grease, you’re certain it can become a livable place. Heck, there was probably an old abandoned train car somewhere further down the track. “I’m sure there’s enough things to live comfortably and you could probably head up top for… food, when you need it.”

You stumble when you think of what Tabaeus would have to do to survive in this place. Without thinking, you rub at the spot on your neck that has grown bruised from multiple feedings. The courage to let Tabaeus feed from somewhere else has yet to take root.

“There are a number of reasons,” Tabaeus admits, closing the wooden box. Their shoulders hunch a little as they gaze about, their fingers playing with the latch of the box in their arms. “It is grimy and dusty. Not to mention rather isolating.”

At that last point, they wince. You can’t help the curiosity needling through your thoughts. Thus far, Tabaeus hasn’t mentioned other vampires nor anyone else for that matter. Even if his amnesia was a result of a long sleep, you think there’d be someone they’d remember.

“Besides, I have found I quite enjoy being in the presence of others. Especially you.” You focus on Tabaeus again. They smile crookedly at you, their red eyes flickering from your gaze to your reddening cheeks. More than once, Tabaeus has admitted to enjoying how your cheeks color.

Needing to break up the sudden warm heaviness surrounding you two, you scoff, “That’s me, your little blood bag.”

That draws Tabaeus’s eyes back to your own, an ember in their red depths. “You’re my amata trinkaĵo, actually.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve been upgraded to a drink instead of a bag,” you snort and roll your eyes. Tabaeus had actually taken to calling you Amata on occasion. And each time, you shot them a dirty look. In return, they’d only grin.

This time, however, Tabaeus’s smile is soft and a little sad. They notice your stare and instantly reel back, clearing their throat as they cast their eyes about.

“Can you hold this? I might be able to find other little bits that are fairly valuable,” they ask, holding out the wooden box to you. With a nod, you relieve Tabaeus of the crate, grunting as you realize how heavy it is. They don’t seem to notice your struggle as they turn, off to investigate further.

“Do you think you’ll remember anything if you poke around here?” The question comes so sudden and soft to your lips, you almost think Tabaeus didn’t hear it. But, they did, and they stop suddenly, turning their eyes back to you. It’s a roundabout question that you hope will stir their memories or a nugget of information to research. “There’s got to be tons of memorabilia here.”

“I… do not know.” A complicated expression creases at Tabaeus’s face, their eyes drifting from one item to the next. It wasn’t a complete refusal, though, and they wander toward an old wardrobe. You watch as they pull out the drawers and shuffle through them. Papers, knick-knacks, photos. Picking every little thing up and examining it carefully.

“Some things stir memories,” they admit, after a long few moments. You perk up, edging closer to them, though your loot weighs you down. Tabaeus tilts a photo toward you and you squint, looking over an array of faces frozen in time. “I feel I know these people. As if I grew up with them, but I cannot tell you their names or what year this was taken in.”

They flip the photo back into the drawer it came from, before pulling out another paper. It looks like a letter, typed up on an old-timey typewriter. “And this here. I recognize the name Reginald Taylor. He was a chemist at a general store on Gooseberry Boulevard. Where that is, though, or how long I knew him, I have not the foggiest.”

With a sigh, Tabaeus drops the note into its home drawer. With another look cast about the corridor, creases of wretchedness continue to mark their features.

“What is it?” You start to lift your hand to touch their shoulder, before realizing you’re still hauling the gold around.

“There are many bad memories,” Tabaeus shakes their head, taking a few steps away from you. Their expression is strained and you think you see their eyes growing glassy, wet. “Deaths by feeding and other means. Blackmail. Extortion. Cruelty.”

You’re not sure what to say, so you just remain quiet. Though your mind races with questions and theories.

It’s when Tabaeus speaks again, their words making your stomach lurch, your worries solidify. “I… I do not believe I am a good person.”

“What?” Without thinking you take a step closer. Your heart pounds and a spike of adrenaline has made you grow hot. A small fear of betrayal lashes in you - they said ‘am’ not ‘was’ a bad person - but you hold it down. “What did you remember?”

At that, Tabaeus’s eyes dart to your face. A pained expression crosses their features briefly, before they manage to push it away. Their eyes draw away from you, their shoulders hunching. “Must I speak of it?”

Boldly or foolishly, you take another step forward. Your voice hardens. “Am I in danger?”

“No, not from me,” Tabaeus startles at the accusation, their eyebrows drawing upward. “Never from me.”

You press on, ignoring how a nervous flutter at those two words joins the pounding of your heart.“ Do others pose a danger to me?”

Tabaeus’s lips pressed together, looking sad and wretched. Once more, their eyes flicker away from you, their fingers fidgeting with each other. “That I am not sure of.”

“I would appreciate knowing whatever you know, Tabaeus.” They flinch at the hard sharpness in your tone, but it’s something that has to be said. Your mind is going a mile a minute, trying to confirm Tabaeus is a threat or make excuses for them. The longer you look at the misery dancing on his face, you sigh. “The memories may not be yours. They may be that of those you’ve fed on. Or maybe you have some sort of tactile memory powers.”

That makes curiosity cut through their gloom. “Tactile memory powers?”

With a shrug, you try to explain as simply as possible. “It’s like the ability to see memories tied to an object.”

“Have you heard of such things?” Skepticism has Tabaeus’s eyes narrowing, obviously not believing you.

“I mean, in comics and stuff.” Now it’s your turn to shrug. You’re suddenly aware that you’re still holding the box of valuables, your muscles aching from holding it. “You’re literally a vampire, so I figure we keep our options open?”

“That is true.” They do not sound convinced, though. Their dismal gaze scans the room, the furrow between their eyebrows deepening.

An awkward silence falls between the two of you. Tabaeus quietly wanders off after a polite amount of time, digging through items on the far side of the corridor. Still holding the box of treasure in your hands, you’re not entirely certain what to do. Carefully, you set the valuables down on a larger trunk. After letting your arms rest, you decide to poke about the area yourself.

Half of your brain is looking for valuables or anything of interest. Any old little oddity or fascinating book or strange gadget. The other half is looking for information on Tabaeus. Photos, documents, anything that may lead to information.

“I know you are searching ways to kill vampires.” Tabaeus’s words, coming from behind you, makes you freeze.

You spin around, staring wide-eyed at Tabaeus. Suddenly, you are very aware you are underground, in a hidden place only Tabaeus knows of. Without thinking, your eyes dart around, hoping to scope out an exit. However, your brain starts wondering if the mounds of items are hiding dead bodies in their depths. Are those bad memories that keep Tabaeus from living here actually the souls of his victims?

“My apologies! I did not mean to startle you. I am not angry about it, I understand the need to protect yourself,” they rush to explain, their own eyes widening as they realize how worried you were. You believe they would raise their hands in supplication, if it weren’t for yet another box in their grasp. Warily, you stare at it, wondering what it could hold.

“I recalled this being here. Tied to those awful memories.” Tabaeus mumbles before you can ask. Slowly, as if they were approaching a scared animal, they hold the box out to you. It takes you a breath to realize they’re offering it to you to take. With lips pressed tight together, you don’t take the box, but instead flip the lid open.

As you look at Tabaeus, a rush of confusion swarming your brain, they look away. Their shoulders jerk, as if to hunch in on themself, but holding out the box keeps them from performing the action.

“What is this, Tabaeus?” With a shaking hand, you reach into the box and pull out a wooden stake. It’s old and gnarled looking, but there is a heft to it that isn’t like other modern day wooden items you’ve held. There’s other items in the box, as well.

Herbs and vials, bits of silver, a cross, a mirror, bound bags of who-knows-what, and more. At the very bottom, under everything, is what looks to be a notebook - perhaps a journal - with a crackling leather cover.

Their answer surprises you. “From what I remember, this is a vampire hunting kit.”

“Why would you have this here?” It didn’t make sense to you. Why would they have things around that could kill them? Though a small, dark part of you answers.

“I may have killed a few vampire hunters in my time.” Tabaeus shrugs, as if taling about murder is no big deal. Though, you wryly suppose it’s more self-defense, if these hunters were trying to kill Tabaeus. Your momentary amusement is gone when they voice what that dark part of you guessed, “Or perhaps it is just something all vampires keep. In case eternity becomes too great a burden.”

You gently place the stake back into the box, closing the lid with a snap. “And why are you showing me this?”

“It is yours. For your protection.” It is not a threat, you realize. Their words are too soft, their eyes downcast, their body language submissive for them to seem dangerous. “A token of my sincerity that I will never hurt you, but if I ever do, do not hesitate to use what is in this box.”

The logical, paranoid part of you snorts derogatorily at the statement. There were any number of ways a sly vampire could sully a vampire hunting kit. The wrong herbs, fake silver, tap water in place of holy water. And it wasn’t as if you hadn’t left Tabaeus alone for long swaths of time for them to concoct such a ploy.

You had already begun stashing a cache of items at home and planning to grow anti-vampire herbs in your new greenhouse. Getting stakes was even easier, you’d found out, after being pointed toward the varieties available in the camping eisles. Nothing in lore said it had to be a wooden stake.

It is a struggle to believe Tabaeus would put together a fake vampire hunting kit. It seems too maliciously conniving. But, you suppose, if this was all an act, you wouldn’t know what Tabaeus would or wouldn’t do. Now would you?

Although, you are very curious to know what was in the journal. That is the only reason you relieve them of the box and offer up an uneasy smile to them, “Thank you, Tabaeus. I appreciate the understanding.”

For once, they do not reply. They merely nod, humming an acknowledgement, as their gaze refuses to meet yours.

“We should head back home. I’m sure Bjarka and Liuva are missing you.” You attempt to lighten the mood, balancing the much lighter box on your hip. With an nod to the heavier treasure-filled box, you ask, “Can you take that one? You’re stronger than me.”

With a silent nod, they shuffle to the other box and heft it in their arms. You can’t even tell if it weighs anything to the vampire. There’s no strain to their muscles, no bowing of their back.

Tabaeus finally looks at you and opens their mouth, as if to say something. But it instantly snaps closed and they look away from you.

“What?” You take a step closer to them, cocking your head as your free hand lightly touches their arm. The touch draws the attention of their eyes. Slowly, their gaze travels up your arm and tingles follow their path.

“Will you miss me?” Their words are soft, almost lost under the buzzing of the overhead lights. “When we part, I mean. Whenever that is.”

You raise your eyebrows, trying to ignore the heavy grief painting the air around Tabaeus. “Are you planning to leave me?”

“No.”

There’s no ‘not yet’ or any other implication they ever thought to leave you. Just a simple ‘no.’ You wonder how far into the future Tabaeus has thought, has planned. Are they thinking just a week ahead? A month? A year? Ten years?

The thought brings a rush of conflicting sensations, warring for dominance in your chest. Overwhelming emotions make you feel the slightest bit dizzy. Abruptly, you pull your hand from Tabaeus and turn back the way you came, crisply saying, “That’s better to ask when your leaving is inevitable, don’t you think?”

You feel Tabaeus’s eyes on your back. It makes those rush of contrary feelings spike and you swallow down uncertain tears. Finally, their feet start to shuffle after you and they say, a little defeatedly, “Yes, I suppose you are correct.”

The two of you walk in silence, both carrying your own heavy baggage as you traverse the dark. When Tabaeus turns the lights off behind you - your hand already on the fabric of their jacket to be guided out - the forgotten world of items is plunged back into darkness.

You can’t help but feel the two of you carry much more than the two boxes out of that place, though.

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