#/...i just realized that gif is the PERFECT position for her to drain him in another way-- >: )

[keelt9]

Chapter 4

Masterlist

Breathless with my legs shaking every step, isn’t how I picture myself arriving in Barcelona, that’s what happened when you lost a flight last night. Thomas came with me to check apartments, with his clinic eye, after all, he’s an amazing architect.

I believed if I woke up early in the dawn, I arrived at the perfect time at the airport. I didn’t anticipate that multiple factors could ruin my plan, so I missed the flight; spending 3 hours at the airport waiting for another flight to Barcelona. 

Here I asked for a cab to drive faster to the hotel to leave my bags, but the receptionist took 20 minutes making my reservation, obligating me to get stuck in the traffic 30 minutes before the race started. I have one option, run.

When I arrive at the paddock the drivers are walking to the garage talking with their staff; Mercedes hospitality was the second-to-last building.

One of the PR girls, when she saw me almost with a lung out, giggled and screamed getting out of the building. “He’s already in the garage!”

You must be kidding me. I thank her running back, crashing with people avoiding a fall. 

All was worth it because I arrived when Lewis was about to put his helmet on. The drivers are already putting them on too, gloves, even some of them inside of his cars.

I jumped on his back, taking him by surprise. “Oh my lord.” He saw me when turn his head. “Why don't you pick up your phone?”

I get down and show it to him. “Out of battery.”

“Lewis it's time.” One of his mechanics told him. I pat his shoulders.

“Whatever, details we talk about later, now go.” Lewis clicked his tongue putting his helmet on.

“I'm not in the greatest spot.” It was an awful qualify, he barely reached the 13th position and the car hasn't been working as he expects so it's natural he feels so down.

“You always say, fight until the last minute, right? So go and fight. I'm already so proud of you.” Lewis hugs me tight before go.

The loud noise of the cars as they passed in front of the garage is usual, just this time the blue, yellow and red car stole a long glance from me.

Lewis was right, he and his team pushed until the last lap but simply reached the 5th position. As Lewis got into the garage talking with a few members of his team before going to where I was standing.

I opened my arms and he chuckled. “You did amazing.” He nods but doesn't say another word more than thank you.

“Go to the hospitality you look tired, I'll reach you when I finish here, ok?” He kissed my cheek. “It means a lot that you still come.” 

“In the winnings and in the lost.” He genuinely smiled this time before being dragged for his PR team.

I walk in the opposite direction of people who are walking to watch the ceremony. It's been a week of ups and downs with Thomas and I around Newport searching apartments along the work and flights have drained me of energy. 

I go to the upper part of the Mercedes building, ask for a coffee and unconsciously fall asleep on the table.

The soft movement on my shoulder makes me realize the cap I’m wearing over my head is the only thing that saves me from an embarrassing moment. 

“Long week?” Bono is sitting next me changing my coffee. “This is awfully cold.” 

I grab the coffee while taking a sip, and thank him. “Lewis?” Yeah, goddess liquid.

“Oh, he’s finishing the last interviews, I come for this too, but you look defeated. You should go to the hotel, I don’t think there is so much to do either.” Bono put my cap on before leaving. 

He’s right, I stand with my coffee going to the main door hoping to find my brother on the way and telling him I’ll be waiting for him for dinner in the hotel.

On my way out my hoodie got stuck in one of the boys passes so it made me stop turning around and take a step aside of the hallways trying to untangle.

“Great race mate, I’m sorry for the result. Hey… uh, where is Y/N? I didn’t see her today.” That’s definitely Max's voice, making my body tense.

“Oh, she’s been here, all the race.” Lewis answers like he’s pointing out the most obvious thing in the world.

The boy makes our passes untangle, he leaves me there eardroping. 

“I guess, I didn’t search…I mean notice her.” It’s like that should be a thought for himself instead of an out of loud answer.

“Yeah, congrats Max.” I hear loud crashing hands and steps approaching and others going down the steps.

I waited for Lewis to pass the small room where I was standing, for coming out pretending I just came inside looking for him.

Lewis narrowed his eyes. “Are you all right?” I choke my head. “You look surprised, even, you have a soft…” I realize my lips are coming up so I shake my head and take a deep breath.

I shake the cup of my coffee with extra whipped cream. “Bono made me a coffee.” 

Since I was a little kid Bono noticed the deep affection my brother had for me and even he started to spoil me as Lewis, becoming another old brother for me.

He takes a sip. “Oh my word. Too sweet, too sweet.” I giggle and try to put my words in order. “Go to the hotel, I have a few things to do. I’ll be there for dinner.” 

Lewis speaks being dragged for Rosa one more time, as she whispers to me “I’m sorry.” 

As I walked out of the paddock and the fresh air hit my face, reality did too. Why do I even take importance to those words?

“I’m crazy.” I speak to myself.

“You’re definitely stealing moments.” Lewis keeps scrolling in his phone, and notices that actually some people and reporters start to suspect that the girl running along the paddick is no one else than, Y/N Hamilton.

“Yeah, they have good eyes.” My eyes are on the waitress walking with my dessert. 

Lewis takes the last sip of his glass of wine. “Talking about good eyes.” 

My skin crawled just with the thought of Lewis could mention something about his talk with Max.

“The investor confirms the appointment, all seems perfectly right.” He laid back in his chair with a proud smile.

Here in Barcelona, Lewis contacted some people who could be interested in becoming investors of the refugee. Both of us refused to be in an office with the most formal and uncomfortable place, so he invited them to a casual breakfast.

“Don’t worry, we already sent them the advance of the past month any question they could have I’m pretty sure you can handle pretty well.” Every advance I send, makes it more real and makes me more excited.

The dinner was amazing but my body needs a proper sleep to recover energy and go to breakfast fully focused and concentrated. 

“You think I should wear a suit?” Lewis scoffed and pushed me softly.

“My god, it's breakfast Y/N and they aren’t that old.” I take a deep breath trying to relax. 

As we crossed the lobby we found Checo and his personal trainer, Jose; bags on their hands ready to leave, as another lift opened too; drivers, mechanics and some engineers, accompanied with a few girls ready to celebrate the results.

Checo greeted us on their way to the door. “Are you not going?” My brother asked, pointing with his head to the small crowd walking to the exit too.

“Family is waiting.” Checo jokes about Lewis should go, even Bottas is thinking about going.

“Yeah, you should go. I’m actually fighting to keep my eyes open.” I put my fingers over my eyelids making them laugh.

“LEWIS, YOU COME?!” Charles screams at the other side of the lobby holding the crystal door to Alex who waves her hand to me. “Y/N YOU SHOULD COME TOO, IT’S GOING TO BE FUN.”

I shake my head taking a step back. “Sorry! But have fun!” I push Lewis to go but he just replay the same as we watch them go.

“Big day tomorrow, right?” Lewis smiled at me, hugging me with one arm.

Checo and Jo cry out a big “Aw” saying goodbye to us.

“Oh, Y/N do you like Mexican food?” Lewis covers his face with his hand.

“I love it!” Checo keeps thinking for a second.

“If you’re not too busy by the end of the week, you should pass by home, I bet we can prepare something.” He makes a face playing with Lewis. “Yes, Lewis, you’re invited too.”

“Sounds great, we text you.” Lewis rolls his eyes as we walk to the elevator after the final goodbye.

“We?” He’s smiling, we both know I’m not ready to open up to other people, risking me to be vulnerable one more time.

“It’s Checo, it’s going to be fun.” After all, like Bottas, they’ve known each other for a long time. 

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!”

Mika screams, makes me realize I've been staring at the ceiling with her on the phone. 

“Yes, yes, of course.” We were talking about the next party and if I’m coming too.

“Are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressure.” I stand going to the window to get some fresh air.

“It's ok, I want to go.” My head is spinning around the same. “Mika I'm tired, I'll call you tomorrow ok?” I sit on the balcony watching the buildings and the night lights. 

The breakfast it’s the best idea by far, all developed in a full calm, and casual manner but with the formality a business needs, after all Lewis has right, the investors are Lewis' age and good friends of his.

“I must say Y/N you have us.” One of his friends said after they watched the sketch that I was working this month. “I’m in.” 

I see Lewis at the other side of the table smiling, ⅓. “This is spectacular, and a good option of location, focus on what it’s the main cause. Count me in, too.” ⅔

I have my fist tight tapping my legs. “Who’s going to be the face of the refugee?”

The last investor asks, watching the tablet in his hands. “The star of the family, absolutely.” My words put all eyes on me. “Roscoe.”

All laugh and he gave me the tablet. “That’s all I need. I’m in.” 3/3

“Well, that's the merit of a toast.” Lewis calls for a waitress as he winks at me. “This is going to be great, I can assure you that.”

After the breakfast Lewis makes us go back to the hotel, he has a call from the reception, one of the brands he’s ambassador delivers a special item for him.

“It’s going to be quick, but I can’t leave that on the reception.” Lewis says as we enter the hotel. “Wait for me in the cafe, I’ll be there in a blink.”

He runs to the reception as I walk there, taking my time to relax; I’ve been tense for the meeting, now with a good result I feel I take a huge weight over my shoulders.

I sit on the empty table near the big crystal door facing the lift so Lewis can see me easily. I close my eyes and take a deep breath lying back my head relaxing every muscle of my body. 

A nice girl comes closer to me asking if I need something. I say to her I am just waiting for someone, when I see one more time the lift, Max is coming out of one of them, bag at his back and cellphone in hand as another guy helping with his other bags.

The picture from last night, him in the middle of the drivers and girls laughing and talking so freely makes me feel it’s the right thing to do is taking my distance, like I've been doing all these time; making me move my eyes to my phone.

Apparently we don’t think the same, because by the time I lift my eyes one more time Max casually sits in the chair next to me, removing his bag and keeping his phone in his pocket.

That’s the multiple benefits about the sunglasses, the perfect cover all the time. With a barely raise of the corner of my lips I greeted him, didn’t say any other word, my sight stuck to my phone, pretending I’m busy on something.

It was the longest and quiet seconds of the day, until he cleared his throat speaking first, and put in front of me a small purple bottle.

I raised my eyebrows looking at him, my expectations were a serious face however he has a genuine smile on his face.

“It’s nothing weird or bad I swear.” He scoffed, shaking his hands in front of him. “But…you looked really tired yesterday and.” He lay back moving his cap, rushing his words. “Lewis said you were tired because you have a long week, so probably you didn’t sleep well...”

“You ask Lewis about me?” I interrupt his rambling taking the bottle, vitamin B6 and B12. 

“Well, not exactly, I just wonder randomly.” I nod slowly, but the warning sign on my head turns on too. “I…” 

It’s confusing seeing a guy who’s always been so direct and freely talks in battle with his own words.

“I’m always talking to you in the most awkward moments, it’s just… Have you ever been curious about someone? Like that curious that you can't avoid finding an excuse for coming closer.” 

People around him microphones on and cameras focus on him, it’s the only thing that comes to my mind.

“I think you have a better answer than me.” He scoffs like my answer it’s the last thing he expects. 

“I guess it’s dumb on my part to wish you joined us last night, right?” I definitely didn’t expect this answer. “I wonder what it feels having you there.”

What is happening? Perplex it’s my only feeling, but I see honesty in his eyes. The table turns because now I’m the one who's fighting to find some words.

“Ready!” Lewis entered the cafe clapping his hands and a big smile on his face. “Max, hi.” 

Max looks right to my face, smiles cutely at me before standing and greeting my brother. 

“I leave you, I have to go.” Max put his bag on. “Nice to see you again Y/N.” 

Lewis watches him go as I have trouble to recover myself, I grab the bottle and put it inside of my purse.

“That was…” He rested the importance, moving his head. “Whatever, let’s go, multiple things to do.”

“That was nice.” Mika is playing with her pen.

The weather in London it’s been kind of a troublemaker, some days a big sun on the top of your head while others a dark cloud and strong wind.

“I know, but finally we found it.” My hands raising to the sky leave it clear my frustrations for finding a home it’s finally over.

Last weekend with a no race week Thomas and I got on finding the perfect apartment; after a day of walking around Newport we found a nice house almost outside of the town. 

An old man, Richard, came out of it with a big red banner, “For sale.” Thomas dragged me to go inside and just took a look. Richard explains to us, the old house is where he and his wife spend a life together but years ago, her wife died and his daughter with his grandkids who live in France insisted he should come with them, and that's exactly what he’s going to do.

Thomas sees the house like a magnifying glass included in his eyes, I limit myself to see around until I find a back room.

“Oh, my wife likes to draw, so my kids adapted this room for her.” Big windows point to the backyard surrounded by brown walls and a big tree apple on the corner.

A few drawings are still on the wall. “May I?” Richards nods with a big smile. 

“It feels bittersweet.” He says as I look at the draw of two little kids playing with a ball. “Have to restart your life taking the golden moments with you, but the piece of a life too.”

His words touch deeply in my heart and he sees the emotion in my eyes. “But it’s worthy, new adventures waiting for us, right?”

I found Thomas in the kitchen, and said at the same time. “This is the one.”

Mika smiles. “So, he’s going to be in charge of the renovation?” 

Thomas offers me to make the house more 21st century, keeping the essence of the house. I agree with just one condition leaving the drawing room as it was, at the end of it.

“Indeed.” The waitress with our food walks and puts it in front of us.

The soft taste of butter and prosciutto is like from another world and by the way I open my eyes Mika knows and giggles. 

“I told you right?” She takes a sip of his coffee. “This place is a treasure.” Accidentally a few drops of her coffee fall in her medical uniform. “Damn.”

I gave her a napkin; the cafeteria is near to the hospital where she works, so everytime I’m in London I try to take my time and have breakfast, lunch or dinner with her in her free time.

“Yeah, you should go and wash this off.” I laugh because now the drops of coffee in her blue uniform look like drops of blood. “You’ll terrify Mrs.Collins with that.” 

Mika laughs because her next patient is a lady who at his 77, it’s skeptical about having to go with a cardiologist, Mika. 

“Wise girl. I’ll be back in a minute.” Mika stands for washing off the stains. 

After a couple of seconds, the buzz of my phone stole a glance from me, a reminder. 

Mika comes with a damp uniform but she covers it with her hospital gown. “Now, you take care of yourself without someone telling you.” 

“What?” She pointed to the purple bottle. “Oh, it’s just vitamins.” 

She grabs it and examines it from closer. “They're pretty good, though.” 

I bit my lip containing a proud smile. “Can I ask you a question?”  

Mika laughs, shaking her head. “All your malaise please make an appointment with my secretary and I’ll be pleased to assist you.”

I push her feet under the table.

“All right, all right. This is pretty clear, one in every meal.” I shake my head

“It’s not about vitamins. It’s about another thing.” Mika waits for me to continue. “What does it mean <be curious about someone>?” 

Mike frowned her eyebrows, and chuckled, not in a mocking way, like if I just asked the most obvious thing.

“Are you talking seriously?” A plain “yup” was my only answer, confusing her more. “Well, am, you’re interested in someone, maybe in their likes, hobbies, habits… I don’t know Y/N, is such a deeply-confused question.” 

I giggle, whispering and repeating her words. “I know, deep-confuse.” 

“Hey, don’t try to confuse my brain. I’m glad you finally are taking care of you. I was about to give you an IV every time you come.” Mika grabs my hand across the table and smiles. “Remember, a new beginning, a fresh new start.”

“I’m afraid.” I sigh. “I don’t want to…seeing me again like I did months ago.” 

The image of me standing in front of my mirror with red eyes shaking wondering what I did wrong, still wakes me up from time to time.

“Baby steps.” I laugh. “A great way to start.” 

I see the vitamins and the recalling of that night, seeing the post under the bottle with a careful and still messy  writing that just says. 

>Take one in every meal and drink water, please!

Put a genuinely  smile on my face, and softly shake my heart.

[cathyun]

i'd rather be with you

pairing: choi beomgyu x reader genre: light angst, fluff, comfort wc: 1.4k warnings: food mention, theyre both sad in the beginning :( summary: when beomgyu's plans for valentine's day gets ruined, y/n knows just the place to cheer him up.

You were comfortably settled on your bed while watching the saddest romance movie you could find online. Normally, you wouldn't do this on Valentine's day, but you had every right to grieve like this.

Beomgyu, your best friend, who you may or may not have been silently pinning on for years, made plans with someone. Although it hurted you, you never tried to sabotage him into not going to the date considering how happy he was while talking about how it happened in the first place.

He excitedly talked about it for days, you tried to match his excitement the best you could, although it drained the hell out of you. And now he's out there. Probably having fun with his date. You wished, you truly wished you were the one next to him. But you had let your fears take control, resulting in you never confessing your feelings for him.

You tried to keep these thoughts out of your head, but everytime you would close your eyes, the picture he sent with his outfit for today stayed fresh in your mind, making it hard for you to forget what you were losing.

"This isn't working." You sighed, closing your laptop and letting silence take over your dimly lit room. You stayed in that position for a while, processing everything that happened.

With your remaining strength, you picked up the tissues full of snot and tears, cleaning the mess you made when you had a breakdown.

The sudden ringing of your phone made you jump. Your favorite song made it easy to guess who was calling you. You picked up almost immediately.

"Gyu! What's up—" Your words were cut off by the sound of sniffling by the other end. Your heart felt tight when you realized he was crying.

Before you could even come up with anything to say, he spoke, "She never showed up." His voice wavered, "I would've understood if she was busy, but I saw her with someone else. They were kissing, Y/n. I... I don't know what to do."

When he was met with silence, dread started to fill his chest, "I'm sorry for dumping this to you so sudden—"

This time, it was you who cut him off. Wearing proper clothes now instead of your pajamas, you held your wallet and said, "I'm coming. Where are you?"

After Beomgyu sent you his location, you immediately left your apartment and ran where he was. You were quick to see where he sat, near the river he often visited when he wasn't feeling the best.

You catched your breath before silently approaching. The wind was cold as it blew softly against your skin, but you didn't mind it.

When you sat down beside him, Beomgyu didn't flinch, nor did he budge. Silence took over between the two of you, the crashing waves not too far from where you sat. Silence wasn't a rare thing between the two of you, in fact you both found comfort within it. But this silence is different, which is why you were quick to fill it with noise.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked gently, trying to tiptoe around the topic. He shook his head.

"I'm not that upset anymore, but it still kind of hurts." He let out a long sigh, "I want to forget about it." He replied quietly, still facing the river.

The silence was back again, until you stood up. He looked at you now, shocked at the sudden movement.

With a smile, you offered him your hand, "Let's go then."

He stared at your hand questioningly for a while, then he placed his hand on top of yours. Hands firm against your own, you wordlessly dragged him to a place where he can forget his worries.

"The amusement park." He said under his breath. It was the perfect place to forget and have fun.

The sight of laughing kids while they were on rides, couples trying to win each other stuff toys, food stands, the flashing lights, it was the greatest distraction to heartbreak.

"Yeah. Where do you want to go first?" You ask, looking around the place.

"I don't think we should..."

"Come on. It's still Valentine's day, let's make the most out of it."

He pondered about it, looking at you. In return, you gave him the best puppy eyes you could muster. He laughed lightly, shaking his head.

Such a small gesture made your heart race as if you've run a mile. "Alright, fine." He hummed in thought from beside you, looking through his choices. "I want to try the bumper cars."

"To the bumper cars we go!"

That's how you found yourself seated in a small car. As soon as you started moving, you made your way next to Beomgyu's car. When he wasn't looking, you bumped him from behind causing him to let out a yelp.

He turned to you, glaring playfully. "You better run, I mean, drive away." You only laughed, speeding up your car.

Beomgyu was quick to catch up successfully bumping against your car. He laughed at the look on your face when your car shook. You glanced at him as soon as you regained your balance, ready to curse him, but then you saw him wearing a smile.

Any other time, you would've immediately bumped your car against his. But you hesitated this time. Getting lost in his smile, in the way his eyes crinkled, in him. He looked so carefree in this exact moment and if you had a camera in your hand right now, you would've captured it.

Someone bumped you to the side, stopping you from daydreaming any longer. Beomgyu turned to the person who bumped into you, bumping his car into that person, avenging you.

"No one bumps them aside from me!" He screams playfully to which you laughed in response. "A little possessive there."

"I think I'm seeing two Y/n's right now." Beomgyu said as soon as he got out of the ride, hand tight against the railing. You patted his back, waiting for him to get over his dizziness.

"Yeah? Well, this Y/n is getting hungry."

"Me too, actually. I think I saw hotdog stands over there."

When you retrieved your own foods, you tried to find a place to eat. It was an easy task considering how most people were only here for rides.

Soon after you finished eating, you strolled around the park. You tried everything you saw, even the games you knew were rigged. Beomgyu even managed to win you a stuff toy, which totally didn't take him at least 5 tries.

You looked around again in search for the last ride you'll go on with Beomgyu to end the night. Turning your head to the right, you spot the perfect place.

You tap Beomgyu's shoulder, gaining his attention almost immediately. You grin when his eyes settled on you, "Ready for your last ride?"

Both of you stood in line for the ferris wheel, Beomgyu didn't utter a word, neither did you. When you both got inside, you were quick to ramble, "Okay, I know what you're probably thinking. A ferris wheel? How cliché! And yes, you may be right to some extent, but I think this is a good way to end the night. Besides it's really quiet up here—"

He laughed, stopping you from going any further. "It's fine, Y/n. I like this. I like it here. It's quiet and the view is amazing. Besides, you're here with me, that makes this ten times nicer."

A flustered smile made it's way to your flushed face, the poor stuff toy getting squeezed lightly under your hands. Your heart paced faster at his words. You wish he couldn't see how red you were right now. You redirected your eyes from him, placing it to the view of the city. It truly was a breathtaking sight, but it couldn't compete to the boy in front of you.

"Thank you, really. This means so much to me." He spoke, genuine with his words. "At first, I was really bummed out about what happened earlier, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I'd rather be hanging out with you anyways. So, thank you."

Although you didn't get to say how you truly felt for him in this ferris wheel where you both could share sentiments, you didn't feel any regrets. Maybe someday you'll get the courage to say it, but as of right now you felt content in this moment with Beomgyu. So, you settle with the response,

"Anytime, Beomgyu."

note: it's 3am here and i have morning class later so i cant proofread this rn, beware of typos and grammatical errors 😭 happy birthday, beom <3

[littlesheeneffect]

She's My Husband (Part 8) ❤️

Miles Maitland x yn (AFAB Genderfluid)

I was quickly set on the couch, Miles instantaneouslu fauxly checking me over as the red head stood to straighten himself. Miles' eyes never left mine as he did, an odd pleadfull passion in them that I'd never seen before. One I could only closely place on... jealousy?

As soon as he stood straight, the Bobby's began speaking with him, reluctantly pulling him to sit at the coffee table. Thus giving the ambitious mustacheod man the perfect opportunity to sit opposite me, and begin entertaningly visiting.

As time carried on, Miles was quite distracted with us. Him and they weren't talking of anything of much importance- just salaries, taxes, and home life really.

My fellow did a great job of entertainment on my behalf however, funnily, it turned out his name was Ginger. "Now, watch closely dearest- the coin shall disappear" he grinned, as he pulled a large coin from his pocket.

Magic tricks were always a beloved past time, and I must confess- never had I seen anyone perform them better than Ginger that eve. He used the most common things about us and charmingly manipulated them to his desire. Cards were by my favorite. In all honestly, I found I was enjoying myself.

The night carried on till about a quarter past seven, Miles warming the police a bit with liberal glasses of brandy. They had grown a bit tipsy and began telling about all sorts of odd things.

Ginger had grown comfortable with speaking openly at that point, and began telling me of who he was in relation to the case. "Oh no, I have met Aggie and Nina many times. I basically know all about gang. Yes, in fact Nina truly considered me for suitor before closing that cheap Adam." "Cheap Adam?" I nearly exclaimed, almost forgetting my role. "Yes, no offense intended but he is quite the jobless hobo in my opinion," he told emotionless. "I'd think not sir- Adam is a very good man and loves Nina very much," I stated much more collected.

Ginger just hummed in reply, before studying my face for a moment.

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, before he at long last muttered, "My- and to think you could possibly want to be a man." The blood drained from my face and I crashed into the realization that he truly knew who I was. The statement could've been a play, a fishing, or a an honest reaction to an abstract statement of Aggie's- yet, I felt the heat of my face increasing by the moment.

I quickly seen that he held the statement as true and continued on unaffected. "My dear, you only wish such things because you have never been truly treated as the lady you are." He grinned warmly at the end, and leaned in to stroke the side of my ever reddening cheek.

"Wh-whatever are you talking about?" I attemped to continue my role- a mix of raging anger and lustrious allure both threatening my continuance. He laughed lightly and retracted his hand. "You deserve a real gentleman y/n, this twinkle-toes Maitland boy won't be man enough for such lady as yourself. You need to feel like a woman, be treated so. You know that deep down, my lovey."

Though his advancing address was awfully attractive, I had never felt more infuriated and offended. For a moment, my act was gone.

"How dare you- and don't call me that," I exclaimed though the Bobby's were much too brand-ied to notice and continued talking to the ever bored Miles- who also didn't notice. "I'm sorry to razzle you my dear. I just couldn't help but tell you the truth of the matter," he cheekily smirked. I calmed myself a bit and said in reply, "The truth of the matter is I have a love and am quite comfortable with he & I the way we are- thank you very much."

He grinned and resumed his prior position, gracefully folding the cards between his hands impressively. "What is your role in this all?" I at last asked, though the question was quite dangerous in itself, I wantd to know.

He maintained his demeanor and stated, "Aggie signed me as her representative citizen to share the unfortunate news." I hummed in response, and looked about the room. Ginger then commenced to tell of one of his adventures during college to Africa, which to my frustrations- was very captivating.

Miles was beginning to grow quite restless as one of the cops dozed off loudly and the other went on about things. But at one point the Bobby took hold of his shoulder and began a statement that quickly captured Miles' attention.

"Laddie, the miss of yours..." he trailed off, causing Miles to gaze at me for a moment and back to the policeman interestedly. "... one like 'er only comes along once in yer life, boy. I see tha way you eye 'er. An' the way she looks to you. You love 'er, lad. And she thinks the moon o' you. Don't let that ever go. No ma'er want comes- an' let me tell you, after near thir'y years of bein' married, toubles are alway'a coming. But hold on to her lad, and she'll hold on ta you, and toge'er there ain't nothing that'll bring ya down. Not even death 'erself." Miles blinked and brokenly nodded.

"An, and" the Bobby added, "Bring her joy in the things that mat'er most lad. They aint jus' flowers, but holding 'er hand. Not jus' tha bed, but praying with 'er every chance ya get. Not jus' proper laughs, but huggin' 'er after tha bigges' argue'n you ever had in yer life. That's what gets ya through lad. Love'n no ma'er what."

With that he man stood and shook the other Bobby awake. Ginger started up and they bid us all a good evening as we walked them to the doorstep. "Ya mind what I said now laddie," the one Bobby turned to us, "Good nigh' miss." Ginger mischieveiously grinned a, "Till next time lovey," and they were gone.

Miles and I stood in the entrance in silent shock of it all for a moment.

"Well, am I exhausted!" I finally sighed. 'You don't say," he said almost question-like, as we finally tore our eyes from the door. "And my goodness dear, you should be an actor!" He exclaimed causing us to laugh as we both collapsed onto the couch into eachothers tured embrace.

...... To Be Continued.....

[psithyroz]

I've realized how much I've been distracting myself with worldly things lately, running from the pile of thoughts that might drown me.

But every time I pause, all of it comes to mind one by one, and I start to worry.

It's scary.

Always being on the positive side is terrifying—it makes you disregard feelings that need to be felt and instead shove them deep inside.

I don't think I have the right person to voice this to, so here I am, spilling everything again.

1. I'm afraid of what's been going on with Mom and our financial challenges.

I know how much it overwhelms her.

I want to help, but it's frustrating because I don't have the capacity to do so.

2. It frustrates me that I keep working hard without being able to save anything.

I gave money when Ellie was hospitalized, then offered some to Mom when she needed to settle something, and lent her more for compensation.

I'm having a hard time balancing budgets and limiting myself on things I want to do because everything seems to involve money.

It's like I'm working only to live but haven't used my money to achieve something.

3. I'm losing interest in work, tired of feeling like I'm not good enough and having to compete every time we have a campaign.

The worrying never stops, and I constantly feel the need to make everything perfect.

It's exhausting and draining.

4. I'm already in my fifth year at work, and I don't know what my next step should be.

Should I leave?

The thought of it terrifies me.

5. I'm almost 27 this year, yet I feel like I haven't accomplished anything in life.

6. I'm so scared of everything falling apart.

7. I'm frustrated with my brother's situation and that we kept on looking for solutions for him but at the end of the day that's his life to make decisions with.

I'm torn apart about the ideals of mine for him and my emotions because I am also aware that he doesn't want any of this too. He just has to try his best even more.

Identifying these feelings helps a lot.

I just pray I'll be able to see this through and do something about it. To my courageous self, let's acknowledge these feelings and take the next step to think about the solution.

—R., First Step, (8.24.24).

[overnightheartbeats]

She hated the feeling, knowing that Jack was currently reading her like a book. Laurel supposed the change was noticeable. After all, it was years down the drain, not just a couple of dates. Dimmed herself, not on purpose, but losing Eli was a gut punch. Stunned for days, and when she finally came out of it, she felt like she was dying inside. To a certain extent, she was right. Laurel didn't want to think of it, or even admit it, but it seemed that way. Eli had no problem calling it quits, and leaving behind everything they had built, all the years they had spent together. ❛Well, I wasn't going to be jumping up and down over a breakup. I'm taking my time, that's not a crime. Pathetic or not, why do you care? I'm still here doing my job, completing assignments. I'm not interfering with your delusional mission to sleep with Eli. So, how does this affect you? ❜ There was nothing worse than trying to heal while someone was in your ear reminding you of everything that went wrong. Patience wasn't a virtue of hers, so requesting patience from her while dangling this favor over her was just too much. ❛You don't know me, remember? Don't bunch me up with everyone else on their denial train. Fine, whatever. I'll pay you back whenever. ❜

Laurel stared at her dumbfounded. Her frown softened, struck by her observations - this was the closest Jack had come to accurate. It stung. ❛We just make a good team, that's all. There's no reason to disrupt that, we were friends before. We have that, and we have work.❜ At some point, she had to stop talking because all she was doing was digging herself a deeper hole. It just didn't help that this was probably the first time she was talking to someone about her breakup.

A double date, wait what? Her eyes widened in surprise, before she looked over to Mark, Eli, and then back to Mark. She shot Jack a look as she agreed to the double date. She looked way too giddy, everything she was saying earlier might be true. Jack on a date with Eli, and her stuck with Mark. What in the world was happening right now? Her eyes met Eli's, and she couldn't quite place what he was trying to say, but she still bit her tongue trying to not complain about this mess. They were alone for a moment, but she couldn't even look up at Eli. Impossible to meet his eyes.

Jack took almost no time to change and return, which oddly enough, Laurel was grateful for because it beat the awkward silence between them. It had been so many years since her and Eli had to deal with awkwardness, this just wasn't them. She glanced over at Jack, and Laurel couldn't deny that she looked good. Maybe she would succeed after all. Laurel rolled her eyes at the comment, why was she bringing this up? Was she trying to go dance or what? Her mouth felt dry at the mention of Panama, eyes darting briefly to Eli. ❛You're not suggesting we go dancing or something, right?❜ Without realizing, she took a step back, away from them, while Jack talked and reminisced about that trip. Her memory of Eli wearing that navy shirt with the sleeves rolled up didn't help. She didn't need any reminders of that trip, Laurel could still conjure up the picture in her mind, but Jack's description painted a more detailed, perfect version in her mind. And it hurt like hell. Laurel nodded reluctantly and looked away from them as she took his arm. Instead, trying to pretend she was looking for the fourth person in this dreaded double date. Maybe, he ran off to get the car or something. In this moment, she hated Jack for putting her in this position.

This day was full of surprises, the latest one was his words as he stayed behind with her. It took her a second to look back up at him, and it was a pleasant surprise to see him using his cap backwards, like before. God, she hated how he still made her feel. Laurel bit her bottom lip, the memory of Panama invading her. ❛Yeah, it was fun. Top five, the mission wasn't all that Eli,❜ she mumbled under her breath while undoing her ponytail and letting her hair cascade down. That way, they could walk away from this field and getting this over with. This wasn't a date, not really. So, she didn't see much point in changing into something more extravagant. ❛Same old really. Trying to get in your pants, plenty of fish in the sea or whatever. Nothing I haven't heard before. She did tell me about NSC though, apparently they have open spots.❜

❛Be that as it may, I'm not blind. The last few months you've gotten quieter. Reserved. I'm not dumb. You went from the golden flame flickering around because you had him to this. But things changed. You changed. You dimmed yourself for someone who had no issues dropping you. Don't you think that's pathetic? ❜ she snorted and rolled her eyes. ❛That's what they all say but bunch of them are actually in denial. Just because it's easier. I do. I'll come with it in due time. Patience. ❜

She looked at her and chewed her lip. ❛Because I'd wager you'd rather have him like this then not have him at all. If you switched then you wouldn't see him at all and that kills you. Pathetically, you know if you moved or whatever, that any chance of you staying in his life would be slim. If you don't have work then what else do you have? ❜

Following after her and catching the last bit she raised an eyebrow. A double date? ❛Really? ❜The shocked tone that her voice took on made her want to half chuckle and half giggle at the sudden outburst from Eli. ❛Looks like I don't even have to do anything. Guess I go change them for our double date. ❜ Eli gave Laurel a look to say Jack was gonna be going with Mark so to not say anything yet. He knew they had a dinner date later so this would just save everyone a headache. Jack giddily walked away leaving the two of them alone as she thought she had won this one. Though from the look on the guys faces she knew that her little game had just put into place something entirely more amusing. It was clear there was still something there if anything they were dumb to notice. Regardless Jack didn't care, end of day it didn't affect her. What did, was performance at the job.

Taking little to not time to get changed into a black and purple number she let her curls out of its constraints and walked back out. Make up still in tact as if she hadn't just sweated out on the field. She stood between them like a puzzle piece that shouldn't be there and grinned. ❛Did you guys know that the rumba is the sexiest dance ever? Second only to salsa. It reminds me of that op in Panama. ❜ She grinned when there was a reaction from Eli and continued on. ❛I wish we could go back. That was a fun trip wasn't it? ❜ Her shoulder bumped his as she took a glance at Laurel. ❛didn't you have that sexy little number? Yeah, wasn't it like one of those rolled up sleeves and a navy shirt. I thought you looked like a sailor. You in that elevator was one of the sexiest things I'd ever witnessed. Tell me, was that the first time using your teeth? ❜ Content with where she'd left the conversation she smirked and took his arm. ❛Shall we? ❜

Eli rolled his eyes and pushed his hair back putting his cap on the way he had it before. He slinked his arm out of her grasp and broke apart from her to hang back and wait for Laurel. ❛She does have a point. Panama was fun. ❜ It wasn't about the mission itself but what had transpired before and after. ❛One of my top five memories. ❜ He got quiet knowing how that couldn't possibly fix everything he had broken. ❛What kind of shit did you get today? ❜

[2-fast-2-curious]

You’re the Closest to Heaven that I’ll Ever Be

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Female Reader

Warnings: Somnophilia but not really, Matt talking to your pussy, mentions of unprotected sex

Author’s Notes: This is a kind of unconventional follow up but I hope you like it @eatommo​ 

Matt’s breath tickled the sensitive skin of your crotch. His nose prodded the area as he took a deep breath inhaling your scent and probably his too from the previous night. The room's air was still thick with the smell of sex from last night.

You heard the soft sounds of Matt’s morning voice muffled by your skin. “Good morning, pretty.”

You were about to respond when you realized the fact that he was speaking into your pubic area probably meant the question was rhetorical. You decided to keep your eyes closed and remain just below consciousness as you listened to Matt’s voice.

“Let me check you out, gorgeous. I hope I wasn’t too rough on you.” Matt’s head continued resting on your pelvis as his hand lightly grazed the soft skin at the top of your seam near your clit. Matt sighed as he felt you already wet and ready for him. “You’re already dripping so nicely.”

“And if I move down here…” Matt’s fingers moved lower from your clit to your hole, his fingers immediately finding the more opaque and viscous fluid that your body had pushed out in your sleep. 

You heard wet sounds and you assumed Matt had pulled his fingers away and was playing with the liquid. “You had me cumming so hard last night, I really pumped you full and but you were milking my cock and I just had to drain my balls inside of you.”

“Yeah, you took every drop of cum until you were overflowing.” Matt pressed a soft kiss to your pubic bone.

Matt’s fingers traced patterns on the tops of your thighs. “I think you wanted her to wake me up. You had her grinding you against my thigh, making me feel how wet you had gotten overnight. You knew once she did that I would have to come down here and spend some time with you.”

“I had her describe you to me the other day.” Matt said wistfully, his hand going back between your legs and rubbing the lips of your labia. “I know she probably didn’t do you justice, you know how modest and shy she is about things like this.”

Matt took another deep inhale. “I wonder how much longer she lets me do this before she stops pretending to be asleep.”

You shook your head in disbelief, you thought you had been pretty convincing. Your hands groped around and found Matt’s messy bedhead. You could think of a better use of his mouth that didn't include having a fake conversation with your private parts. You used your hands to move his head so he could be in the perfect position to do just that.

Previous Part

[corpseglider]

pairing .. corpse x girlfriend!reader (fem)

summary .. the time in which corpse really does propose

part one .. read here

the first sign.

“Now why exactly did you want to go to the farmer’s market?” You asked, eyebrows raised at your boyfriend’s beaming face. 

Corpse ran to the rose bushes, daisies, and baby’s breath—looking through each and every vendor’s selection. His eyes were sparkling with excitement at the sight of the various colors, his body shaking profusely.

You followed behind at a distance, giving Corpse the freedom to explore on his own. The market was overflowing with life. That life not necessarily being human life, but fresh plants and fruit.

Your pockets were drained quickly, all of the hard cash on you had disappeared into the hands of the kind vendors. Bags of homemade goods filled your arms, nearly falling over from how unbalanced you’d become.

“Oh, shit.” Corpse said, running up to you and taking a few packages into his own hands, giving you a little breath of relief. “You seem to be right at home here!”

He chuckled, his heart glowing in your company. The overall aura you gave off brought his life immense joy. You were the light in his darkness, the stability to his chaos.

The two of you now walked together, strolling between vendors and awing at the vast array of flowers. It was a peaceful moment, just the two of you together in a place that made you happy.

“Oh these are just beautiful!” You exclaimed, your eyes settling on a bouquet of small lilac alliums. The little blossoms were undeniably gorgeous, standing out amongst the others like stars in the vast night sky.

The little bouquet fit perfectly in your hands, complimenting your features nicely. Corpse took a mental picture in his brain, wanting to remember this moment showcasing the natural beauty that you possessed forever.

He studied the flowers, noticing the little petals and yellow bobs along with your beaming face. Without hesitation, Corpse pulled out his wallet, giving the vendor whatever price they were asking for.

“You’re the best, you know that right?” You pressed a soft kiss to Corpse’s cheek, loving how your boyfriend spoiled you. Gratitude was evident in your voice, the tone soft and thankful. “I love them.”

Corpse wrapped his arm around shoulder, hugging you to his side as you made your way towards your car. He kissed the top of your head gently before whispering in your ear.

“I love you.”

the second sign.

The house was silent, Corpse’s footsteps echoing slightly as he quietly shut the door to his gaming room. It was around four in the morning, he’d just finished a live stream, having stayed up all night to do so.

Exhaustion was all that was on his mind. He was itching to crawl into bed beside you and refill his energy. Just the thought of holding you in his arms was more meaningful than any dream he could possibly have.

Corpse tiptoed down the hallway, cringing as his phone began to ring. He frantically reached into his pockets, attempting to decline the call before realizing that it was Sean who’d been dialing him.

“Hey man.” He spoke in a low tone, doing his best to make as little noise as possible. It’d been a long week for you, and he didn’t want to disturb your sleep. “What’s up?”

Sean responded energetically, the time zone difference being evident between the two men’s attitudes. “Just calling to say what an amazing stream that was!” He exclaimed, his accent strong. “You really tricked us tonight!”

Corpse laughed, running a hand through his already unruly hair. “Yeah that was all luck.” He admitted, having no strategic meaning in any of his moves. “My lucky charm is home right now, that’s probably why I won.”

He could envision Sean nodding to his words, his friends being fully aware of how close his relationship with you was. “Y/N, yeah.” Sean answered, a little bit of a smirk on his voice. “How’re you guys doing?”

A smile rose on Corpse’s face, just the thought of you brought out his soft side. “We’re doing really really well, man.” Your boyfriend said, walking into your shared bedroom. “Thanks for asking.”

Sean sighed, most likely sitting back in his chair to get in a more comfortable position. “Of course, you guys seem really happy.” He paused for a moment, considering what he was going to say next.

“I was tagged under that comment you made on Instagram.” Corpse stopped breathing at his words, knowing exactly what he was referring to—but Sean continued on. “Was there any truth in that?”

The call was vacant, neither man speaking on the other’s behalf. Corpse took a deep breath, gazing at the girl who was fast asleep in their bed. “Definitely.” He breathed out, processing his words as he spoke.

“She makes me so happy, man. I just love her so much.” His voice was even quieter than before, Sean barely being able to comprehend what he was saying. “I don’t know what to do.”

Sean’s grin was so large it could be heard on the phone. He was so happy to hear that his close friend had found someone so perfect for him. “I think you know exactly what to do.”

With that, they bid their goodbyes, promising to talk again in a few hours. Corpse slipped into bed, finally realizing the steps he had to take in order to end up with the outcome you and him deserved. 

He pressed a kiss to your temple, wrapping his arms around you and closing his eyes. As sleep took over his senses, your’s were wide awake. Your face was flushed red, tears brimming your eyes.

You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the sound of Corpse openly talking about his love for you was too much to ignore. It was one thing to know that there was someone there for you—but to have him speak so highly about you to others?

That was love.

the third and final sign.

Corpse had been bouncing off the walls all day, his body overflowing with nerves. He’d been doing his best to act inconspicuous for the entire day, wanting to surprise you with his notion of a proposal.

The weight of the ring box felt like tons in his pocket, weighing him down as he walked with you towards the view point. His heart was racing unevenly, thumping in his chest like a metronome.

Constellations sparkled above you, the sky filled with stars and little specks of dust. It was a moment under the perfect view with the perfect man. Your perfect man.

You stood beside him, holding his hand in yours as you pointed out all of the constellations that you knew by memory. Corpse was silent, humming along to your words and listening intently.

Before you knew it, you felt his grip loosen, your arm dropping completely. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, wondering why he would leave you absent of his touch.

A gasp escaped your lips as you turned, facing him underneath the light of the moon. Corpse was down on one knee, holding up nothing but the ring box that had formerly been stashed in his pocket.

He pursed his lips into a smile, opening the box to you. “It’s no ring made of fresh flowers,” he admitted, watching your facial expressions like a hawk, “but I hope it’ll do.”

Your eyes settled on the ring, noticing the beautiful and intricate design. The band resembled stems, wrapping around like vines—while the jewel itself looked as if it was blooming out of a flower.

That flower being identical to the flowers he had bought you at the market, weeks before. 

Tears were now tripping down your face, your hands on his shoulders as you nodded enthusiastically, accepting his proposal with all of your heart. “Of course it’ll do!” You grabbed his cheeks, kissing him over and over again.

“You are perfect for me.” You rested your forehead against his, shivering as he slipped the ring onto your finger. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Corpse laughed, thanking everything for the fact that he was lucky enough to have someone such as yourself in his life. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

[bangteamhyuk]

Seesaw (I)

Genre: Mature/Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Neighbors with benefits/Fuck buddies, Producer! Min Yoongi, Fuck girl! OC Y/N, Neighbors AU (a Spin-Off to “Moving On”)

Warning: NSFW! alot of kissing (torrid, soft, neck, and down under😉), protected sex (you can never go wrong with a rubber on, kids!), oral sex, mentions of alcohol, mentions of nipple pierce (pls don’t kill me 😣), mentions of cheating, appears to be pwp but i swear there’s a plot in this..so bear with me please😖, elevator buddies (lol. thanks ggukieland for mentioning this) to eventual lovers. I’m ending this in good terms 😌

Synposis: His outfits are always in black, and if not black then it must be in dark muted tones. You pressed the button on the elevator floor, and positioned yourself at the edge. You watched his back from a distance, and turned away if he moved his head. You were always the one who start your small conversation with him: From “good day” to “good night” to “that’s interesting (whatever it is you find ‘interesting’ from him, even though you were interested in him more than the item)” and other things. You and your little crush to your neighbor who lived on the 18th floor.

Until one rainy night, all drenched and cold, and your eyes smudged all over with kohl, you found him waiting for you inside the elevator. His body slacked on the edge, hair unkempt, his jacket barely settled on his shoulder while holding on to an empty bottle of scotch.

“Rough night?” he asked while you moved to the other side of the lift,  pressing the button from the elevator immediately closing its door.

“Yeah, seems you had one too?” you watched him attempt to position himself upright in amusement.

He drank from the empty bottle before he replied and realized straightaway that it’s been drained.

An idea came up to you suddenly and you asked: “I have more of that in my place. Wanna come over?”

A/N: Yoongi have been tormenting me of his visual for weeks and I just have to. Also I owe Producer!Min Yoongi to be happy. :( I hope you’ll enjoy “Seesaw” as much I enjoyed writing it. I decided to make it a mini-series because ideas are just piling up for the two.

And yep, mood song is “Seesaw” by Suga 💖

Word count: 7,190k

“Good morning” you said upon entering the elevator. You walked past him and placed your back on the steel wall for support.

“Good morning”  he replied, eyes blinking.

You opened your insulated tumbler to drink your freshly brewed hot coffee you made before leaving your apartment, when you noticed something particularly interesting from the lone stranger you’re with inside the lift. “Nice bean hat” you complimented.

“It’s a gift from my friend” he looks up at the elevator screen, monitoring what floor you two are currently in before it hits the ground floor. “That coffee smells nice, Ethiopian beans?” he turned his head a little to your direction, but wasn’t trying to look back at you particularly.

“No, Tanzania Peaberry” you took a sip and levelled your eyes to the decreasing number before the elevator digital screen until it hit ‘Lobby’. “Well, have a good day!” you smiled at him as you walked past his side. Yoongi let you leave first, like a true gentleman that he is.

It was always the same dry and small conversation. Always the same feeling whenever he is around. Your little crush on the man living on the 18th floor.

——

It started about two months ago when he was running towards the closing elevator, asking for you to wait for him before you could push the close button on the lift. Normally you would mind, and would even subtly push the button hard (about once or twice) so the lift would close quickly before the other person could even enter.

But not this guy, no. The way his eyes looked at you for a second, there was something behind it, something you couldn’t pinpoint exactly. When he reaches out for the door, you knew from that moment on, it was already over. He finally came in and pushed the ‘close button’ before you.

You were charmed.

“Thank you” he panted, as he tried to catch his breath from running and crouched down on his knees right when the elevator door closed. He was wearing a black oversized hoodie and dark blue fitted jeans and black canvas shoes, but were all dripping wet.

“Didn’t expect the rain too” You pulled out your gym towel from your bag. The one you didn’t get to use because, Matt, the cute guy your friend introduced to you during her wedding day, suddenly sent you a message asking if you had any plans for this afternoon.

Naturally, you cancelled your ‘gym day’ to trade it for one steamy workout session with him inside his car. Which leaves you now with your gym outfit and other stuff perfectly unused,  including your towel.

“Here” you handed it over to him, feeling sorry for the situation he was in. Wet and dirty from running outside the street. He turned to you, confused, unsure whether to accept the towel you were offering or not.  “Oh don’t worry, that’s a new one. I didn’t get to the gym today so it’s not used, like at all…” you smiled.

“Thanks” he bowed a bit and gently wiped his neck and face as he pushed the 18th floor button. He shook his raven short hair a little to his side and tapped it with the towel, hoping to reduce the water trickling from the ends of his straight hair.

You pushed 17th.

“New here?” you asked.

“Yeah, I just moved two weeks ago” he gently wiped each side of his cheek for warmth.

“Has anyone ever welcomed you here?” you took a quick glance at him and furrowed your eyebrows  then retracted “Well, besides the management and the security guard?” you snickered, eyes still fixed at the elevator buttons and its screen.

He chuckled at your query “No, unfortunately.”

“Bummer. Well, let that towel be the ‘first welcome gift’ then. From a neighbor” You shrugged then turned to face him and smiled.

The elevator bell rang, ‘17th floor’. You put your feet forward near the elevator door, arguing in your head whether you should ask his name or not. Usually, you don’t ask strangers for their name, especially the ones you just met. You barely knew anyone in this building, except your next-door neighbor who frequently complained about the noises you make at night.

And It’s not like he owes you anything either, so you didn’t expect that he’ll do it so casually… and yet here you are, hoping.

At least, maybe he could ask you a thing or two about you and say ‘thanks’ one more time? That’s just wishful thinking though. You suddenly remember that you did mention the towel was a gift, despite not bothering to ask if he wants it or not.

You began to worry even more, and wanted to ask if he really wants to even keep it. So, you turned around to meet him the eye and “Ah w—”

“Thank you, neighbor” he smiled and held the towel to his ear. The elevator door closes before you, stunned to see him smile. Yes, that damn smile. The kind where you forget where you live for a second, and you just nod. Leaving him behind.

“What’s your name?” you asked no one, and sighed. “Whatever… you’re welcome, neighbor” you turned away from the closed door in frustration and walked along the hallway.

——

Boys are like games. You liked it when they made you scheme so that they could find you interesting, and then trap them once they took the bait. And leave when it becomes dull.

Every so often, you try to lure in guys that interest you so that you could spend about a week or two with them, to fill in the gaps of your own boredom. You despised monotony, the way you hated commitments.

Though you were not always like this before, you once believed in ‘true love’ and ‘fairytales’, until you’ve had your heart broken a few times (mostly due to one-sided love) and then that was it. You’ve had enough. Back then, you were still young and naïve, thinking men will come and save you from this cruel world. You’ve seen it in movies, tv dramas and heard countless songs play about it on the radio, you were hopeful.

Yet no one came to save you, not even one. You came to realize that only you could save yourself from making your life any more tragic. Men are never the key to happiness. Love is not the formula in living a good life.

You looked at your own reflection and marveled at the beauty you created for yourself. And that was the thing, you saved yourself way too perfectly that you just don’t believe in love anymore. And out of nowhere, men were starting to line up.

Not like the teen romance kind of stuff, where they literally line up for you because you started to look like Gal Gadot overnight. More like, you don’t seem to care whether you get asked out or not, either way, men like you because you are a challenge. And who doesn’t like a challenge?

Because men are dying to see one day, that all the walls you’ve built for yourself would fall for them. They wanted to see a damsel in distress behind that wall.

Because men always like their ego stroke, and they always want to have the bigger prize. Unfortunately for everybody, it’s not Princess Peach who they want to save on top of a tower, they just want the game. That’s it, they want to see whether you’d fall for them or not. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s why you never let it. You refused to get too personal and you renounced commitments. You’re too proud.

Because for you, commitments are the epitome of prison. For you, commitments are just a disguise for convenience. In the same manner, convenience is a sugar-coated word for validation, caramelized to perfection.

And for whose validation? For men? Maybe then, they could make you do their laundry, cook them food, satisfy their lustful desires? Are those really an act of love or selfish desire to make their lives easy?  Clearly, your choice to keep yourself free from commitments isn’t an act of rebellion against sexims and double standards. It’s actually letting yourself be free from nuisance, which is what they call “love”.

That is why you remain in your stance, that you want men for your own pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. That you want to see them admire you, kneel if they must, before you. Cry desperately for your touch. Because you’re not giving any, not until a man who thinks the same way as you do, the ones who are smart enough to knock on your door and present to you his pure intentions.

Evidently, that’s impossible, with the way men are in this god-forsaken city? The closest thing you could ever meet to a perfect man is the cardboard stand of Park Seojun, smiling at the entrance of a restaurant beside you right now.

You pat the fabric from your dress, after looking at your reflection from the glass window. Joe, your officemate, from the Design Department, finally asked you out for a ‘little dinner nearby’.

“Y/N, you sure you want to eat here? We can go to some place fancier” he asked while he folded his long sleeves.

“Two seats please” you ignored his query as you grinned over the lady who took on the customer cue. She rolled her eyes upon seeing you again with another man.

Joe went to you close and whispered “Do you have any beef with the lady?”.

“Nah, we’re good. It’s her term of endearment for saying ‘welcoming back’. I’m a regular customer here” you winked at her “so I’m sure she’s delighted to see me every time” she groaned in annoyance and let you in. She remained polite by guiding you both to an empty table.

——

Obviously that’s a lie, because next thing you knew, you were already making out with Joe inside his car, barely reaching his apartment.

“Mmm” you shifted to his seat, knees in between his legs, as he unzips your dress on your back. You helped him pull the fabric down from your shoulder, exposing your lacy lingerie, exclusive for this occasion.

“Can’t you wait until we get into my place?” he parted, panting, leaving him breathless after that torrid kiss.

“I just wanted to give you a little preview with what I can do” you smirked, as you began to kiss his ears and traced it down his neck. “Will get there, don’t worry” you gently bit his ear lobe which made him groan in pleasure. Until, someone came knocking on his window. Joe moved from his seat to see who it was.

“Lara!” he immediately stopped and pushed you away.

“Lara?” you turned to face where he was looking, and to your horror, you saw Lara. Lara, your officemate and your best friend. Lara, who perfectly knew your history and the list of men you slept with. Lara, who stood by you even after office hours and saved your ass multiple times from your mercurial boss.

You didn’t have any slightest clue she was seeing this Joe from the Design department, yet you feel like you’ve done something terribly wrong.

You quickly pulled your clothes up, while Joe immediately left you in the car to talk to Lara.

“I can explain,” he pleaded, shutting the car door hard.

“I don’t need it” Lara shook her head and took a step back.

You pulled down the headboard mirror to fix your hair and lipstick for a moment and let the two do the talking first. You listened to them argue, rather faintly from the inside of his car while you tried to put on your heels.

After you gently pat your lips with your finger, you finally decided to leave the car and went to Lara so you could take on her side and put more misery over Joe, the canker cheater. Besides, isn’t it Joe’s fault that you are all in this muddling position?

“I always knew I shouldn’t be friends with a slut like you!” she spat a disgusted look on you.

Your mouth went agape, bewildered at her reaction “Excuse me? I didn’t know Joe’s seeing you”.  You were expecting that above all, she would understand the current situation, that it was Joe and not you who started out all this mess. Why does it feel like you’ve put gas in to the fire? When the one who deserves all these words is Joe.

“So, is it my fault now? That I didn’t tell you I’m seeing Joe?!” she scoffed and folded her arms. Now she’s starting to piss you off too.

“Because I don’t know Lara? We’re best friends? We’re not supposed to hide secrets?” you gave her a sardonic smile, which peeved her even more.

“Of course I should, the way you sleep with everyone’s boyfriend without being sorry? I definitely think I should” she bit at you, barely quivering from the words she chose against you. You must admit, that definitely hurt. Not the words she chose, not the way she barely quivered, but because it came out from someone you trust.

Lara, was the least person you thought who could inflict a burn to your already-distorted ego.

You sighed, forestalling the tears that were slowly looming around your eyes “Right, well at least I learned something about you tonight. Have a great night with Joe, I hope you two sort out things…” you pulled your bag from your shoulder and walked away but then you remember something.

You wanted to slap Joe in the face so bad right now, that the only thing that’s stopping you is the idea of an eventual ‘Physical Harm Outside Office’ complaint against you from the HR Department, well if you were careless enough to actually do it.

“There’s a thong hidden underneath your seat, which isn’t mine by the way. I only wear Kiki De Montparnasse, don’t I Lara? Well, those are Victoria’s. You know I dislike Victoria’s ” you declared, before leaving, not turning your head to face them one last time.

“We’re over Joe!” Lara screeched, as Joe pleaded even more, their voices turning inaudible as you moved farther away.

Of course, that was a lie. There were no thongs left inside Joe’s car. Just the friendship you lost with Lara.  And you wanted to retaliate hard, to put everything on equal footing. Except, it didn’t feel that way, because Joe took something away from you forever: Trust.

——

Someone knocked from Yoongi’s studio. “Excuse me sir, but Mr. Park and his fiancé are waiting for you at the lounge area?” one of the staff asked, sticking her head out from the door.

“Right, tell them I’ll be there in sec!” he pushed a few buttons on his keyboard and then left his seat to meet his visitors.

“Hyung!” Jimin stood up from his seat to meet him, together with his fiancé… Yoongi’s ex-girlfriend.

“Hey there kid!” Yoongi went to give Jimin a brief hug, and gestured to them to return to their seats. “Hey there” he nodded and smiled weakly to his ex, not that he’s sour or hostile towards her, but he was just in a tight position seeing the two of them together in one room.

“Hyung, I’ve been really meaning to ask you, but I know it’s pretty awkward considering the two of you well, you were once, you know” he scratched the back of his neck, trying to find proper words but decided to continue anyway “together… and I know this is sudden too, but we reserved a seat for you on our wedding day tomorrow, and hopefully as one of my groomsmen…”

Be there on their wedding day? Tomorrow? As one of his groomsmen? Is this a joke? He was baffled for a moment, but his face remained stoic. “I can’t. I’m sorry…” he nodded coolly.

Yoongi saw how she quickly held on to Jimin’s hand tight, to give Jimin comfort from the rejection they expected from him.

“We understand” Jimin breathed and faced the ground.

“It’s not like that” Yoongi lied. “You know that contract I just had for a soft drink commercial? Well apparently they wanted a full revision on the song, so I just had to finish it before the weekends”

“Oh” Jimin smiled shyly “that’s unfortunate…”

Yoongi turned to face his ex, who knew him fluently. He gulped and smiled weakly, hoping the message would come across to ‘Not tell Jimin’. She nodded, fully understanding what Yoongi had in mind.

He wanted to save everybody (especially her family who knew him for years, and their common friends who’ll come by) to see an uncomfortable scene on their special occasion: An ex on a wedding day.

Hours passed, and Yoongi politely offered to see them leave the office building while bidding them good luck for tomorrow.

“Excuse me, I just need to get this” Jimin took his phone to his ears and left them to receive the call from his manager. “Yeah, they’re there? All areas secured? Yeah, thank you. Hopefully, we can avoid paparazzi and obsessive fans at the wedding venue tomorrow…” Yoongi heard him say, his voice turning faint as he walked far.

“Yoongi” she quickly but subtly held his hand “Just say it…” she shut her eyes and pleaded him.

Yoongi knew what she meant, and even if he still feels something for her, he had to do it. “Don’t do this… I know it’s probably just wedding jitters, and maybe we really haven’t had a proper closure when we broke up, but Jimin is a good guy. He’s better. Please, be with him” he said softly, resisting to meet her eyes.

“I’m so sorry for leaving you that night, I should have stuck out to you then, and understand you, I really lo—“ she started to talk fast, while her eyes glistened.

“Stop” Yoongi, moved back, pulling his own hand away from her. “You made the right decision, and I also made mine. Everything falls perfectly, where it should be”  Yoongi bit his lip, maddened to hear her regret. For what? What good does it make to agree with her and run? To destroy a relationship right before their wedding day? He’s not dumb to take the bait.

After years of being left behind, years of putting him in the dark after she left, years of hoping that the two of them can get back together. Only to find later, by chance, that she was already dating his colleague, Jimin. “Stop!” he repeated, taking another step away from her.

Jimin ran back to her side, clueless of what just happened between her and Yoongi. “I’m sleepy, love” she yawned, trying to mask her teary eyes that started when she pleaded Yoongi to take her back.

Yoongi nodded “I’m sure you two are tired from all the planning. I really appreciate you two for visiting. Take care! I need to get back to the studio, client’s calling too!`` He quickly turned away and left, digging his hand in his pockets to hide his shaking palms. The thought of almost agreeing to take her back, right on the night before their wedding, sends shivers down his spine.

He needed a drink.

——

You fumbled on your wallet and realized that you left your transportation card on the office desk. Honestly, you thought you wouldn’t need it when Joe offered to drive you home. “Please, at least a change, at least a change…” you mumbled it like a mantra, praying something helpful would appear, but didn’t.

Even when you dug deeper in your bag, there was no spare change in sight, only your credit card. You didn’t expect the night to turn out so bad. Even worse, it was starting to rain. It didn’t have an umbrella either.

You paused in the middle of the street to cry, not being able to comprehend the series of unfortunate events. You watched the rain flushed down your makeup from a convex mirror hanging on a pole. Your eyes were starting to look like raccoons. Your favorite dress is already drenched and filthy from street dust and smoke. Yet you remained walking, hoping that if you continued to raise your hand every so often, a taxi would come by and let you in.

But even after an hour, no one bothered to let a rain-drenched woman into their dry and pristine car. Until it took you long enough to arrive at your apartment lobby, and you sighed in relief. You shook your head when the security wanted to ask what happened, and declined when the service staff offered you a seat to wait on the couch and bring you a towel. You just wanted to get to your home quickly.

And there he was, inside the elevator, your little crush who lives on the 18th floor.

You saw him drink the last drop from his bottle before he pressed a button, when his eyes widened upon seeing you in a poor state. You walked towards him.

In an attempt to look sober in front of a stranger, Yoongi fixed his posture and quickly pressed the ‘open door button’ and waited for you inside.

“Rough night?” he asked while you moved to the other side of the lift and watched you press the ‘close button’ from the elevator, immediately closing its door. His body fell almost instantly on the slight movement of the lift that shifted towards the upper floors. His body slacked on the edge, hair unkempt, and his dark denim jacket barely settled on his shoulder while he held onto his empty bottle of scotch.

“Yeah, seems you had one too?” you watched his attempt to reposition himself again upright, in amusement.

He drank from the empty bottle before he could reply and realized straightaway that it’s been drained.

“I uh” he gulped “I met my ex a while ago, and she pleaded with me to take her back right before her wedding day” he drunkenly confessed, and giggled to hear himself say it.

“That’s rough buddy…” you folded your arms and watched the elevator screen, as usual.

“What’s your sob story?” he asked, blinking as he tried to mask his insobriety.

“Oh this?” you momentarily look at your drenched clothes. “Well I found out the guy I was out with, ‘double-dipping’ me and my best friend”

“That’s even tougher” he chuckled as he peered on to his empty bottle, wishing that a drop would magically appear out of nowhere.

“I think we’re even” you watched him silently, trying hard not to laugh to see him in his drunken state, until an idea suddenly came up. You asked: “I have more of that in my place. Wanna come over?”

——

The moment you two stepped out of the elevator, you found your bodies pressed together.

Lips knotted on each other, wet and tacky. You moved back while he pressed you forward along the hallway. He then moved to force you up against a wall, pressing himself to you even harder.

Yoongi didn’t waste a minute and pushed his tongue in between your lips, and you reciprocated. You roughly brushed your hand towards his hair, and pulled him even closer to you and deepened your kiss. Whatever it is you two were doing.

He parted and pressed kisses on your throat, his fingers reaching down to your waist and clutched your bottoms.

It was so sudden, so fluid, that you almost forgot that you were still outside from your place.

“Oh, bless you two!” your 60 year old next-door neighbor cried, who just went out of her door. Fidgeting while she tried to close it and ran towards the empty elevator.

“I’m definitely going to receive a house complaint from the management tomorrow” you chuckled. You parted for a moment, and stopped by your apartment door. You quickly entered your password on your lock screen, while he continued to press kisses on your neck. You didn’t mind if he saw it, since you were pretty sure he’s too intoxicated to remember every number.

Upon entering your door, he quickly discarded his jacket and left it on the floor, he kicked the door close. You didn’t dare break the proximity between you and him, even if it bears as a challenge to move back while taking off your shoes from the threshold, and still manage to wrestle with his tongue.

He cut the kiss briefly to remove his own shoes, but quickly as a fox.  Like a clockwork, he continued where he left, back to hungrily pursuing your lips. You parted and watched your lower lip leave gradually from his soft bite. You smiled at him and began to trace kisses on his neck.

He closed his eyes and revelled from your touch. He then carried you over to your bare dinner table and hurriedly pulled your dress up, exposing your lacy underwear, while you helped him pull his shirt off exposing his pale chest. You pinched your lip, stared at him for a moment, all pleased to see him bare.

“What?” he nervously asked.

“Just thinking how I’ve always fancied seeing my neighbor naked come to a reality” you tilt your head, while your eyes remain focused on his chest.

“What a coincidence, I was thinking the same” he finally realized that you had a zipper on the back and pulled it down a bit.

“Careful, this one’s from Lanvin” you alerted him. He obediently followed and carefully pulled it down your waist. You gently pushed it away and threw it on the carpet.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if you had your dress in Versace?” you laughed at his remark.

“Oh, so you could sing that Bruno Mars song? Kinky”

He chuckled at your retort. You then realized how charming he looks up close, his gums flashed before you as he grinned.

“Uhuh…” and just like that he swiftly changed from cute charming to a seductive one, as he shifted his position and watched you react to his finger pressed beneath your cloth that was keeping a barrier between your skin down below and his fingertips. “You’re wet”

You breathed at the sensation and nodded “You know for a neighbor, you are pretty friendly. Yet I never get to know your name” you whispered in his ears and unbuckled his belt. You help him pull down his pants from your seat.

He smiled, seeing you fairly repay his effort by finding your hands gently brushing his length beneath the fabric of his underwear.

“Yoongi” he replied, a bit groaning. You felt his flaccid length grow stiff at your touch.

You turn to look at it, then his eyes “Y/N” you smiled as you pulled it down and began stroking it bare. Nice and slow.

“Nice to meet you… God… that’s it” he shut his eyes and breathed, as he unclasped your bra and began cupping your breasts.

“Nice to meet you too Yoongi…” he opened his eyes, his right hand shifted to lick his fingertip and stick it between your lacy fabric down to your nub, brushing it quickly yet soft.

“That’s… yes…” you shut your eyes at the sudden contact. You were sensitive. “You know we are 3 steps away from my bedroom, why don’t we continue from there?” you gave him a peck on his lips and pulled his hand away from you. You jumped out from the table and waited for him to follow you to your bedroom door.

He just stood for a while and watched you slip your panty down, he gulped at the sight and immediately followed.

——

“Yoongi!” your toes curled, as he pulled you even closer to him. You heard him growl a little underneath you. His hands under your butt cheeks, caressing it gently while he sticks his tongue out for a taste. Seeing stars was underrated, if you must describe how wonderful his tongue techniques were when you are receiving him.

“Yeah, that’s pretty” He parted and licked what’s left of you on his lip while watching you shiver beneath him, slowly coming undone. You lost count how much you orgasm with his tongue alone. He then pushed two fingers in you and slowly stroked it in and out, and watched you unfold for the nth time to his touch.

God, you almost forgot that he’s been pleasing you for almost an hour that you forgot to return the favor. “Yoongi, stop… lie down” you gently pushed him to the side, letting him relax on his back, and began rubbing his length.

“Y/N, it’s okay. I want in” he stopped you before your mouth received him.

“Right now? You sure?” you asked, as he chuckled at the query.

“I’m fully erect, Y/N. What’s there to be unsure of? Lie down…” he commanded, and you gladly obliged.

“The condom is on the bed side table, first drawer on the left.” You pointed. He opened the drawer, and found one. He gently opened the golden foil as you helped him pull the rubber out and placed it on him.

He moaned to the cool sensation “Mmm…” he placed both your ankles on each side of his shoulder as he slowly moved inside of you.

You shut your eyes and opened your mouth wide, surprised to feel something fairly sizable and immense. He rests for a second, letting you adjust to him.

“You okay?” he asked worriedly.

“I’m tough, and I like it rough” you panted.

He chuckled momentarily, but his face turned earnest when he began to thrust inside of you slowly. From a steady placid pace, it gradually accelerated, penetrating deeper into you as he moved further. He wasn’t just hitting your sweet spot, he was unearthing everything within you. To say you’re pleased is an understatement, he definitely did more than that. “God!” he started to move fast to an inconsistent pace and finally came.

You followed.

He pulled out, and rested on your chest.

You gulped and found your throat dry from all that just happened “Want something to drink?” you sat on your side of the bed.

“No more scotch, just water. Know what? Fuck it” he pulled you back to the bed. Swiftly changed his soiled rubber to a new one. He took another condom from your bed side table and immediately entered back into you.

Turns out, the night ended unexpectedly great.

——

🎵 Love me special… love me special… love me special🎵

Your alarm resonated all over your apartment. “Alexa, stop” you commanded, as you shift from your bed and was surprised to see a motionless body you don’t recognize on the other side of your bed.

You slapped your forehead upon realizing who it was on the other end. Your little neighbor crush, now with a name: Yoongi. The song continued to play, stirring the stranger from his sleep “Nngh” he lazily scratched his neck in annoyance.

“Alexa, stop the alarm!” you exclaimed, blinking at the thought of rousing him further from his slumber. You didn’t want the idea of little chit-chats on the morning after sex.  You disliked being demanded to answer questions like “how did I get here?” or “was sex good?”and etc., conversation like those are a total drag.

Regardless who it was, whether it was one night stand or a regular fuck buddy. You wanted to casually forget it by the day, then crave for it during the night. It is how you put up with stress from your work. You separate your professional life to your personal life, that’s how you endure having to face bullshit for years.

He turned around to see you put your clothes back. “Oh shit” he shut his eyes the moment his memories stirred him from his stupor.

“Morning. Look, I’ll go ahead? I’ll be late for work. You can stay as long as you like… but not too long… Whatever, just, don’t forget to take all your things on the way. I know where you live so don’t do anything funny” you put on your bra and underwear then quickly move to your open rack to take your satin robe with you to your bathroom.

“Wine” he sluggishly replied.

“I’m sorry?” you asked, you peered from the wall separating the bedroom and the baths.

“You were playing ‘Wine’. I made that.” He snickered lazily.

“Made what? Wine, this song?” you pointed to your speaker “It’s sung by a girl named Suran? Wait, are you still drunk? I have Tylenol inside the drawer– ” he smiled at the thought of you being kind and considerate. He then shook his head.

“No, I meant I produced that. I’m glad you like it enough to make it your alarm” he pulled down the duvet, exposing his bare chest. He sat up, but the brightness from your window made Yoongi squint his eyes.

“What are the odds”  you chuckled, but only for a while, because when you took your phone and typed in the song on your search bar you found his name, well his other name that is.

“Suga? Are you Suga? Who named you that?” you smiled, as you turned away from him towards your shower but stopped midway.

“You produced a song for Jimin?! THE Park Jimin? the famous idol? The one who won KMA, MAMA, and Daesang… you made those songs?” you swiped further and saw a ‘breaking news’. You narrated it out loud “Look, you know about this? ‘Park Jimin just married his long time non-celebrity girlfriend’…” then paused. You remember the conversation you had with him last night, suddenly grasping and putting things together “Shit, she’s the ex, isn’t it?” you went back to face him, waiting for his response.

“Yeah” Yoongi sat up, eyes still listless. “Isn’t it Dispatch worthy?” he asked sarcastically.

“No,” you replied dryly.  “You know what is?” you rested your arm on the doorway from your bathroom and watched him react “Park Jimin, has a piercing on his left nipple. That’s why you never see him wear a fitted shirt” you raised one of your eyebrows and smiled.

His eyes, which looked formerly lethargic, became wide and lively.

“Wait, what? How? When?” he opened his mouth in shock.

“He was still a rookie then I guess? Anyway it’s been years… and was very single at that… He loves that left nipple a lot, you know? That he came by too soon. He wasn’t that great to be honest, you were better, well more than better to be precise… and I guess that’s what made your ex regret her life decisions?” you shrugged as you watched him laugh hard at your remark. “So don’t be too bummed, okay? You were definitely better, and you deserve the best out there” you smiled and left him there on your bed.

“Thanks” he spoke softly as he watched you close the bathroom door.

That was the very first time you talked with someone you slept with, the morning after. And  the funny thing is, you never regret doing so.

——

You didn’t want to come, but you have to, it was such a horrible position to be sitting beside your now ex-best friend while you two try to remain professional at work.

It was the first time you weren’t left with a sticky note with a smiling face, nor placed a freshly brewed coffee for her, first thing in the morning on her desk. You were both working fine, but the relationship was beyond repair.

That night after work, you found Yoongi waiting in line to get a cup of java in one of your favorite cafes.

“Hey neighbor” he smiled. “Fancy meeting you here?”

“Well I was on the way home. Then I saw you. Have you eaten dinner?” you asked, you went beside him on the line.

“Is that an invitation or are you asking me out?” he squinted his eyes towards you, as you rolled your eyes.

“It’s the former. I thought it’s around dinner time by now, maybe we could share a meal? There’s a promo on one of the restaurants nearby…” you took your phone out to show him a copy of an electronic voucher they were giving for free online.

“Sure, I like promotions. The ones that don't require me to shell out a lot” he remained stoic, despite genuinely liking the idea of cutting regular priced foods.

“Exactly” you winked at him.

——

You brought him to a BBQ place, and saw him turn ecstatic to see them actually serving Kobe Wagyu Beef.

“I must admit, you know the perfect places to eat” he affirmed.

“Of course, I’m very particular in choosing my meat” you stared at him for a second, as he watched you chew a piece, your eyes still fixated on him. He gulped.

“Wanna come over to my place, after?” he asked.

——

UPDATE: Chapter 2 is HERE!

[angeldcgs]

fern's job had more than enough rewarding moments, but it could take a major toll on her health as well. not even just mental, as she'd often neglect her physical health in favor of prioritizing her patients and her work, which is in part why her sessions with arlo had become such a bright spot in her work. obviously her sympathy for his plight would sometimes lead to negative emotional effects after hearing him discuss a particularly heavy topic, but for the most part, she genuinely enjoyed getting the opportunity to talk and catch up with him. from a purely psychiatric standpoint, the way his mind functioned was fascinating, though it was fairly personal, as well. their senses of humor were well suited to each other, he was bright, clever— somewhat of an old soul, too, as many young people who'd been forced to grow up too fast were. she could tell there was something childlike about him mingling with that assumed-maturity as well, just a scared little boy tiptoeing around in a man's body, silently begging to he held and nurtured, like all children are. how could she see that, and not want to be the one to try and provide him that care? who else was going to take on the task? he looked a bit silly, spread out across the designer couch she'd had custom made in the perfect shade of cream leather, taking up every single inch and still just barely contained within its confines. once he'd gotten used to the breathing rhythm she'd set, she gradually adjusted the speed of the metronome so its ticking grew slower, instructing him to continue breathing in time with it. "you're doing so good, arlo, we're almost there... just keep breathing," as she said so, she took a loud, dramatic inhale for four slowed counts. "and hold... let it out— that's right, good boy." as she guided him into the deepening phase of hypnosis, it was as if fern could see the stress drain from his body, and it was refreshing to see him look so relaxed for once. "you're going to begin to feel heavier. that's normal, that's ok. don't fight it... just let yourself sink, alright? just sink right into the couch... don't be afraid of falling, i'll be at the bottom. i'll catch you." without realizing it, she'd leaned forward in her chair, elbows on her knees and her rapt attention still fixated on his form. "i'm gonna count backwards from five, and then i'm gonna catch you, ok? five... four..." each number became more drawn out until she'd reached the end of her countdown, pausing for a moment to see if she'd successfully put him under. "alright, i've got you... you're safe. if you wanna stop at any time, just tell me, and i'll bring you back to the couch. alright?" at every point, fern wanted to make sure he knew he still had control, wanting to make sure his first experience with hypnosis was neutral at worst, positive at best. "now, i want you to tell me about a time you felt really, really good about yourself. and 'good' can mean anything, it can mean confident, funny, smart, helpful, talented, kind... attractive, even. just one moment where you felt good about who you are as a person."

amusing fern was one thing, but making her laugh made arlo feel as though he were on top of the moon. she had the best laugh, the best smile too and to be the reason for either made working his part-time job to pay the session fee all the more worth it. it was impossible to miss her excitement, but that might have been because he had trained himself a little too well to read each shift in her expression, he wanted to be able to tell when she was pleased with him, or when she was concerned. her eagerness only made him more comfortable with the process, a professional like herself wouldn't have suggested something she didn't believe in, and if she was stirred by the concept, he could not fault the idea, even without having tried it. he gave a shy nod and watched as fern dashed off to look through her desk, his eyes drawn down once again to her legs with her hurried movement. he had been in her office plenty of times in the previous weeks, comfortable enough to talk about the most intimate of things and yet, it took him a moment to gain the courage to put his feet up on the couch. it was silly, but it felt disrespectful, laying down as if he were about to go to sleep mere feet away from his therapist. he shushed the anxious thoughts and positioned himself so his head was parallel to where she was sitting and his feet lay pressed against the armrest, it wasn't the perfect accommodation for his height but it worked. laying his hands on his stomach, arlo stared up at the ceiling, dark eyes nervously darting across the white plaster till fern began to speak and her steady voice lulled him back to reality. a pang of something twitched in him as she spoke, something that felt good but also sparked a sudden rise in guilt, but instead of ruminating on it he pushed it all aside and did what she asked, he focused on his breathing and letting his mind be clear of thoughts. it wasn't easy, he lived so much in his head that to be out of it in any way made him feel vulnerable, but that was the whole point, maybe now they would be able to get somewhere without him holding himself back. slowly, he found himself easing into a light, quiet place, it was impossible to tell how long it had taken to get there, or how long he had even been there in the first place, but all arlo could feel was a steady flow of peace washing over his body. something in him searched for fern's voice, but it wasn't him, not all of him, at least. it was almost as though he had been split in two, half of him allowed to rest while the other took the reigns and answered for the state he'd allowed his life to get into.

[munsnz]

Sand — Steve Harrington

TW: Cussing ??

Summary: Where plans were canceled with your best friend, bringing along you and her ex together aka Steve Harrington, remembering the huge dick he was in high school. Perhaps in the span of one day, you catch feelings for him but during a fun activity leads you and Steve together.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader

Lydineo Radio: Let The Sun In — Wallows

Masterlist — Requests are open!

“I thought Nancy was coming,” You mumbled as you walked towards Steve Harrington’s car, where he wore a pair of his black sunglasses along with a summer blouse, leaning against his car. You and Nancy both planned to head on over to the beach, somehow convinced that Steve was going as well, even if they broke up. It had been a year since the mall burned down due to a mysterious cause, now it was another boring summer all over again.

He smiled a little as he saw you trudge over to him, “Plans were changed little one.” Steve pat you on the head, making you feel like a child and you smacked his hand away from your head.

”Ew don’t touch me,” you groaned and crossed your arms as you stepped away from him. He laughs at the funny gesture and takes his shades off to show his chestnut colored eyes into the open. “So what are we supposed to do?”

”We can......” Steve trailed off, looking at you, “I don’t really know, we can both go?”

You cringed at his words and statement, giving a funny expression playing at your face, “Steve...... I hope you’re kidding me. I don’t even know you much. All I know is that you’re Dustin’s friend and you worked at the mall.”

”I see you’ve watched me huh?” He chuckles at your response and cheekily leans over closer to you, “Guess my beauty- Ow!” He groans to see you step over his shoe, to make him shut up.

”Look, Harrington,” You snap at him, while you take his glasses away from his hands and put them on your face, “I cancelled all my shit plans to come to this little stupid trip Nancy told me and I’m still going, but I’m not gonna let your dumb ego stop me.”

Steve rapidly shakes his head at your orders and ruffles his hair a little being in front of you, a sort of tint of pink welled up on his cheeks. Was he blushing? Seeing him at such flustered state, you rolled your eyes to walk inside the passenger’s seat of his car.

“So are we going-“

”Get in......Asshole,” You smile at him as you shoot a glare at him, making him follow your directions to sit into the driver’s seat next to you.

He sighs a little and turns to you while he turns on the car, “You know Y/N...... you’re a little scarier than I thought.”

Scoffing at such remark, you punch his shoulder, making him laugh nervously, “I’m sorry but I’m not usually this scary.”

”Oh thank-“

You shot a glare at him again, he jumped and turned to the steering wheel. “So where we off to? Maybe we could grab a bite before we go?”

”Sure that’s fine,” You crossed your arms and huffed, this trip was going to be one shitshow for sure knowing you had to be stuck with Steve Harrington.

-

”How come I’ve never heard about you at school?” Steve asks as he sips down the last of his milkshake, watching you, fidgeting with your fingers.

Looking up at him, you claimed while laughing, “Well, you were too busy with popularity. I was just a shadow!” You noticed his eyes turn away from you and you sighed, “I hope you’re not like that anymore. Or are you?”

He shakes his head at your question, being able to express that he was no longer that douchebag he was in high school, “No not anymore. Not everything is about popularity.”

”You learned it the hard way huh?”

Steve nods his head at your claim. It seemed like you could read Steve by his expressions and words he spoke. You had never and I mean never have spoken to Steve Harrington prior to the school you both attended to. Just click. It did.

”How do you know me so well Y/N?” He pondered, while getting up from the table, sliding the money onto the bill for the waitress, “We just met and you read me like a book.”

”I don’t know,” You get up along with him, and both walk outside to find that it was already 4 pm, “Oh shit, it’s late.”

”It’s really intriguing to talk to you,” He blurts out, while walking to his car. You looked up at him, with widened eyes, “I-I mean we took around two hours talking to each other.”

You glanced at him, shuffling over inside his car to avoid any eye contact with you. As you came inside the car, he turned it on, driving to the south where the small beach was near.

-

The wind blew on your face, sending your hair all over the place as you got out of Steve’s car. Somehow a bit of hair got into your mouth and you began to choke but calmed down, whipping the bit of hair out of your mouth. You watched from afar the tides came in and out at the sandy beach located a few towns away from Hawkins. The air began to cool, meaning the sun was going to set anytime soon.

”I guess you’re not much of a beach or summer person right?” Steve calls out from behind you, making you look at him.

He read you correctly this time and you joked, “It’s my job to read you, not yours.” Both of you grabbed a picnic blanket from his trunk and began to walk to the beach area. You slid your shoes off, to place your feet in the thick, warm, sand as Steve followed the same thing like you. In the windy silence, you both laid the towel under you. Getting comfortable, Steve turned on the radio, faintly playing Higher Love by Steve Windows (coincidence? I think not), there wasn’t that much people at the beach that same day. A couple of kids who were playing in the waves from afar, but that was only it. Another driven silence began, but bored out of your mind, you decided to take off your crew neck, where your bathing suit was under and head to the water.

Doing such action in front of him, Steve felt flustered watching you slide your sweater off your body, “Something bothering you Harrington?” You laughed at him, to stand up and lend your hand towards him.

”I.....” Steve trails off, grabbing your hand to stand up and run towards the water, “Last one there is a rotten egg!”

”You’re such a child, Steve!” You giggled and followed him to the tide running in and out. You were sadly the last one that got there, being splashed water at your face by him, “You’re gonna regret that Harrington!”

“I’d like to see you try Y/N!”

-

Who knew you were chasing Steve Harrington across the water to see him being thrown by the wave crashing, sending him underwater. He comes back to the surface to find you next to him, splashing water in his face, getting back at him.

”I told you I’d get you,” You paddled your feet to keep you at the surface, smiling at him to find his ‘perfect’ hair ruined in front of you.

But as you watched him squint his eyes because of the water in them. You felt something touch your leg, making you quiver, “Ah!” You shouted as you rapidly threw your arms around him, unaware of who you were holding on to. Caught off guard, Steve feels his heart skip a beat, feeling your skin on his, sending you both underwater and back up to the surface.

”What’s wrong?!” He exclaims, blabbing out the salty water that accidentally went into his mouth, while grabbing you too.

”I felt something on my leg,” You look around at the body of water around you, still latched onto him. Freezing in your position, the only sound you both heard was of the ocean, nothing else happened. But slowly realizing who you were hung onto, you watch him awkwardly to find him holding you as well, bringing a whole feeling of nervousness. Letting go, although you didn’t want to.

“Karma,” He chuckles silently, and covers his mouth. Realizing your stupidity, it was just seaweed roaming around. You move your hair out of your face and begin to swim away from him, but felt a slight tug by your waist, guessing who it was you paddled away faster and giggled even more.

Now here was the place you were going to have a lifetime with this guy you barely know. This new friend of yours seemed like someone you have known for years on end. Just something about it, clicked.

-

After a shit ton of messing around and unintentionally flirting with each other, you grew exhausted. The swimming and running all over the place drains one out. Now you were splurged onto the warm sand, with a ton of mixed emotions everywhere, eager to try something different.

”This may sound weird but you’re cool.”

”I know I am,” Steve scoffs, laying shirtless under the towel and crossed his legs while you sat up, dusting the sand away from the seashells you both found lying beneath the sand. Another silence grew, the sound of the waves become louder, you were in the reality instead of that pretty daydream with him. You weren’t attracted to Steve. Correct?

Of course you were though, shockingly. But with such courage you sighed, watching the sunset turn into a deep shade of orange and purple, “Wanna do something weird?”

”I like weird,” Steve sits up, placing his arm onto his bent knee, “Tell me.”

You had never been such an outgoing or confident person, it seemed like you were more into the shy part of things. As you breathed out, you mumbled, “How about if we talk about the person we like the most? We write it down in the sand, and run away.”

”That’s weird.”

Whilst you were annoyed, you furrowed your eyebrows at him, “Steve I just said it’s weird-“

”I know I know,” He says, standing up and grabbing a stick from far away, “What are you waiting for?”

-

Scribbling an S, then a T and E, V, E, you finished, but panicked slightly knowing he probably didn’t like you. And no, it wasn’t a cliche thing. Or was it?

”I’m done,” You hear Steve’s voice make you jump nervously, signaling this would most likely be the end of your friendship. Wow, just one day in and poof! There goes another bond away from your life.

“Let me look at it first!”

Fear in his voice, he almost shoved you to turn away from the only letter you saw, “Hey! No I go first!”

”No let me!” You pushed him a little and jumped to look over his shoulder, but he was too quick and moved enough to block your sight to see the name.

In a fight, you still couldn’t see the pair of letters, and pushed each other around, in fear to know the other’s reaction of it.

“Asshole just let me-“

Oh God.

That boy knows.

He saw his name written, from behind your short height. Oh shit you were doomed for sure. It was surely impossible to love someone by day one. But this, this was different. Feelings were all over the place, as you noticed his eyes widened at the sight of the letter that spelled his name out.

You clicked your tongue and flinched a little before you would usually get rejected, “It’s a prank I’m kidding! I’m so funny right?”

Steve awkwardly looks around, putting his arms behind his back and stepped away for you to see YOUR NAME. Oh god you knew it was some prank. You watched and still saw his serious face driven by the silence, perhaps he wasn’t joking.

”Oh man,” You cross your arms, watching the letters printed on the sand being destroyed by the incoming wave, washing it away from existence, “We’re just pranking each other right?”

“Uh-“

”Just say it!” You walk over to him and spin away from him, “We should just go home, it’s getting late anyways.”

”I-“

You continue blabbing more nonsense about your summer and how this idea was just one big mistake. Steve knew you wouldn’t stop anytime soon so he stops you by grabbing your shoulders, catching you off guard. Wide eyed, and flushed face, he mumbles a little, “It’s not a prank, I wouldn’t play with love like that.”

”Love?”

”Yeah......” He trails off, watching you intently at the somewhat attraction he had for you, “I-I uh....I know this is fast. I don’t expect you to say yes which is totally fine I’m sorry I’m rushing this I-“

“I like you too Harrington,” You confidently move away for him to see the letters clearly written STEVE on it. Shocked, Steve snaps out of his thoughts to find you put an arm around him and look at him. “So is this the part where we admit our true feelings then realize we are actually in love after getting to know each other in the span of a day and we kiss under the sunset?”

Steve watched you cheekily grin at him, and nodded slightly, “I suppose-“ He was cut off by your lips pressing onto his, automatically bringing his hands on your waist, holding you closer to his body like glue. Both of you continue to move your lips in sync, realizing, maybe this boring and mistaken trip was all written in the sand.

[headheartbellarke]

JEALOUS | Luke Patterson

Requested by anon: “5 times Luke gets jealous and one time he doesn’t have too. Luke x reader?”

PAIRING(s): Mercer!fem reader x Luke Patterson WARNING(s): angst, fluff WORDS: 2.3k SUMMARY: Five times Luke Patterson gets jealous and one time he doesn’t have to.

A/N: hi! sorry this took so long, lol. school sucks. :/ i promise im gonna be posting more frequently from now onwards! anyway, decided to make y/n alex’ sister, bc i’ve been wanting to try it for a while. hope u like it!! <3 also, song used is carry me by kygo ft. julia michaels.

1.

The first time that Luke Patterson feels that scorching, smoldering rage in the pit of his stomach is when he notices Y/N Mercer stare at his bandmate, Bobby Wilson, for the entirety of their hour-long Literature class.

At first, he doesn’t understand why he feels this way: Y/N’s just as much Bobby’s friend as she is his. Well, not really – Luke likes to believe that he is the one that she is closest to in the band, other than her brother, Alex, of course. Sure, Bobby and Y/N are friends – they say ‘hi’ when they pass by each other in the hallway, she helps him out with his Physics homework when he asks, and he asks her how her day’s been – that sort of friends. They’ve never really interacted more than it was required, and Luke knows that if Bobby wasn’t a part of their band, Sunset Curve, or if Y/N wasn’t their drummer’s sister, those two wouldn’t be friends.

Anyway, he thinks that maybe it’s because they are supposed to be partners, working on their assignment together – and instead, she is choosing to abandon him and stare at one of his best mates, instead. He thinks that maybe he’s mad because she promised him that she would help him out with this assignment, which is particularly hard, and now, it feels like he’s ditching her.

Instead of thinking about why he is so bothered at the fact that Y/N is staring at Bobby, Luke chooses to elbow her instead.

“What?” She whispers, a blush covering her cheeks.

“Can you focus?” He snaps as she rolls her eyes and opens their textbook.

“You’re annoying.”

2.

“Alex, Alex, Alex!”

“Luke, I’m sitting right beside you – you don’t need to yell.”

“There’s something that you should know.” Luke whispers, conspiratorially. Alex, who’s sitting beside him on the couch in the garage where they rehearse, leans forward, intrigued. “What?”

He points at Y/N, who’s sitting in front of Reggie in the opposite side of the room, strumming a guitar – Reggie’s teaching her how to play. Unlike her twin brother, she’s not naturally gifted in music, which is pretty evident from her occasional frustrated huffs, and the obviously off-key tune. Rather, science is her talent, and has always been. The top spot in their class has been permanently occupied by her ever since their first exam as freshmen.

“She!” Luke whispers. Alex furrows his brows. “Yes, I know that she has no musical talent whatsoever –”

“No, no, no. I mean, yes, she doesn’t have that – but you wanna know what she does?”

“I have a feeling that you’re gonna tell me even if I don’t wanna know.” Alex mutters.

“She has a crush on Bobby!” Luke scrunches his face, a disgusted look taking over.

The drummer raises his brows and bursts out laughing. “Really, dude?”

“No, no, no, I’m not lying, okay! I’ve seen her stare at him!”

He raises his brows. “So? She stares at a lot of people.”  

“It wasn’t that way, okay? Last week, in class, she was ignoring me and staring at him. Plus, yesterday, when you were god knows where, she and Bobby were having a conversation. An actual conversation! I’ve never seen them talk that much. They were nerding out over Star Wars!”

“Dude, are you…” Alex pauses, looking around, “… jealous?” A smile spreads over his features.

Luke’s eyes widen, and he looks horrified. “What? Me? Jealous? Huh? Me? How?”

Inside, he is panicking. He hadn’t considered this possibility. Is he jealous? No, that can’t be. Y/N – he’s known her forever, and he is supposed to think of her as his sister. He does think so. He’s sure. He can’t – he doesn’t like her. She’s just… Y/N. Sure, he’s always thought that she’s beautiful. And smart. And so, so kind. He’s always admired her. OK, he might have had a little crush on her. But, in a totally harmless, admiring way! (In the way everyone seems to like Winona Ryder these days. Nothing more than that. Absolutely.)

She’s just Y/N.

Y/N, who’s always there for him after he has a bad day. Y/N, who’s the first person he hugs after playing an intense show. Y/N, who’s the only person who can understand his silence. Y/N, who makes sure that he knows that she appreciates him. Y/N, who he knows like the back of his hand.

Before Luke can panic any further, Bobby enters the garage, and Luke notices her attention immediately shift toward him. They exchange a smile, and Luke feels that rage, yet again.

He falls back on the couch, locking eyes with Alex, who is silently watching with a soft smile on his face.

“I’m not jealous.” He says weakly, and Alex nods – but he knows that it doesn’t convince either of them. His friend lays a hand on his shoulder, whispering, “It’s okay.”

3.

By the time the next month rolls around, Luke is positive that he’s jealous: so, he’s resorted to not thinking about it, her or even interacting with her – which is hard considering that she’s always around.

Now, he feels like shit. For their junior year, they are supposed to do a report on a Victorian era novel of their choice, with a partner. He and Y/N were supposed to partners – they had decided months ago and have also done previous assignments together. But now, since he hasn’t even dared to look at her in a month, she’s now doing the report with Bobby, of all people.

As he watches Bobby and Y/N sit next to each other with their arms brushing, he feels that rage again, and curses himself. Could he not have behaved like a normal person? He knows that she is confused as to why he’s suddenly ignoring and avoiding her – she has even asked her brother about it. But Luke had threatened Alex that he would tell everyone about his crush on Reggie if he even said a single syllable.

(Although Luke knows that he would never.)

He sighs, dramatically, and searches for someone else to pair up with, ignoring the way his heart clenches at the realization that he may be losing her.

4.

“Luke?”

He looks up and feels a rush in his veins.

“Are you… mad at me?” Y/N asks tentatively, standing at the door to his bedroom. Her eyes keep flitting between his face and around his bedroom, and he hates the fact that there seems to be an ocean between them.

“Uh…” He scratches the back of his neck, not knowing what to respond. She looks down at her feet, biting her lip and Luke feels a tug on his heartstrings at that. It’s been so, so long and he has so, so much to tell her, but he doesn’t know how to bridge the gap that he created.

He builds up his courage and says, “Yeah. I was kinda mad at you.”

Her eyebrows furrow, and panic flows into her e/c eyes. “What – what’d I do?”

Luke inhales sharply and wonders what he’s gonna say. It’s not like he can say that he was jealous of the fact that she liked Bobby, nor could he say that in the past month he has realized the fact that he may have a tiny, little crush on her and had to avoid her at all costs because she will never like him back and it’s too embarrassing?

He clears his throat. “Uh. It’s because you promised that you would do the English project with me but you’re doing it with Bobby.”

“But I’m only doing it with him because you won’t even look at me! Why won’t you?”

“I… You also ignored me for Bobby the other day?”

She throws her hands up. “What other day?”

“When we were working on the Shakespeare thingy!”

“I was not – now you’re making –”

“Forget it. Just go home, Y/N.”

A look of hurt flashes over her eyes, but she quickly clenches her jaw, and stands straighter, masking her emotions. “Asshole.”

She walks out his door, slamming the door shut behind her.

For the rest of the day, Luke lies on his bed and stares at his ceiling, and when Reggie comes over, he tells him that he’s ruined everything. Reggie lies beside him and asks softly, “You okay?”

“I think I like Y/N.” He whispers.

“We know.”

His lips part and he says in disbelief, “Alex told you?!”

Reggie shrugs. “He didn’t need to. Everyone can see the way that you look at her.”

Luke sighs, too tired to argue.

“Hey. It’s just a date, alright? It’s not like they’re getting married.”

Luke props himself on his elbow. “What?”

“Y’know, Y/N’s really picky –”

“What date?”

Reggie’s eyes widen. “Y-You didn’t know?”

Luke raises his brows, urging his friend to continue. He purses his lips and says, “Y/N and Bobby are on a date right now.”

Instantly, Luke feels as if his world has drained of every colour. Reggie looks uncomfortable, and whispers, “I thought you knew.”

“I, uh, I didn’t. Obviously.” He whispers, falling back on the bed again. His heart physically hurts, and he can feel tears prick at the back of his eyes. Mostly, he feels anger – at himself, and regret.

As jealousy claws its way to the surface, Luke mutters, “I hate Bobby.”

5.

Luke sits cross legged on the floor of the garage, with a Spanish guitar perched on his lap. His hands dance over the strings, trying to find the perfect melody for the song he just wrote.

Writing songs has always been his way of dealing with his emotions, especially when they got too intense. Right now, the situation with Y/N is exactly that.

His eyes dance over the notebook in front of him, and he closes his eyes, trying to forget everything that’s happened in the past couple of days.

“Cause I don't know how we How we got so far, you and me Almost like there's oceans between us, us So I need to know Could you carry me? Back into your heart again Could you carry me? Right into your distant hands Could you carry me? Right back to where we started from Could you carry me?”

“That’s beautiful.”

Luke’s head turns sharply to the side, and of course, it’s her. He clenches his jaws, and says, “What are you doing here?” He hates the fact that she looks so pretty, wearing a beautiful red sundress.

She bites her lower lip, and says, “We should talk, Luke.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

She giggles. “You’ve always been the jealous type.”

He raises his brows, opening his mouth to deny whatever she was about to say next, but she raises a hand to stop him. “Alex and Reg told me. They said that they’re tired of seeing you mope every day.”

“I –”

“Hold on. So, for the past month, you’ve been mad at me because you thought I like Bobby?”

Luke lowers his head, choosing to stare at his open palm instead.

“You ignored one of your best friends for more than a month because you were jealous, and you were too much of an idiot to tell her the truth?”

“Well, you don’t gotta be so mean about it.”

She laughs. “Luke. Bobby and I – we’re just friends, okay? I was staring at him because I really liked his hair. And you have to admit it – it’s nice. I actually asked him for his shampoo, too. But, well, you and him both thought that I liked him. That’s why he asked me out to the movies last day. But... uh, well, it didn’t work out.”

His heart races at the last sentence. “Why?”

“Because I like you, Luke. I always have. I thought I could like Bobby, I really did – but all I could think about last night was you.” She shrugs, and Luke feels like he’s falling. He thinks that the universe is playing a prank on him, but when he sees her crimson tinged face, the vulnerability in her eyes and her fiddling with her hands, he allows himself to feel the slightest amount of hope.

She looks down, continuing, “I, uh, I always thought that you only saw me as your best friend’s little sister. I didn’t ever think that, you know, that there could be something more. So, I kept it to myself and only Alex knew. But, last night, Reg came over and they were screaming for a while, about you and me, so I went to find out what happened, and they told me that you, uh, liked me too.”

Reggie. He must have told Alex that Luke was ugly crying on his shoulder.

“Please say something, Luke.”

He releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I – I feel like you’re pranking me.”

She grins. “No. No, definitely not.”

“Y/N, god, you have no idea how difficult this past month has been for me. I mean, I never realized that I liked you that much until I saw you with him, you know? I always thought that I had a tiny, little crush on you but I never… and I thought that Alex would kill me if I did anything, but he’s been oddly… nice about all this.”

“He’s just tired of hearing me talk about you.”

“Probably. But yeah. I think you’re brilliant, Mercer. And I really, really, really like you.”

She jumps a little, and whispers, “I really, really, really like you too.”

“Do you maybe wanna go to the movies with me?” His wide grin matches hers.

“Only if we watch part two of Father of The Bride.”

“Deal.”

+1.

Luke watches Bobby smile at Y/N, looking at her as if she’s put the moon in the sky. Although, this time, he doesn’t feel the rage. He doesn’t need to, really, with Y/N’s hand wrapped in his, and the ghost of her lips still lingering on his.

 requests open! as always, feedback is highly appreciated <33

[annoyingloverbear]

ASANO GAKUSHUU X READER HEADCANNONS

Before you ask......don't ask. Yes I like assassination classroom too.

This is a HC about Y/n and Gakushuu attending the same high school.

Ohh boy do I tell you this boi fell hard for you.

And by 'fell' I mean literally fell.

It was one of those rare occasions his father being the disciplined father he is made Gakushuu walk home from school just because he didn't eat his roasted asparagus in dinner last night.

He didn't really mind tho. His home wasn't that far and he liked to see what's going on in the outside peasant world sometimes.

As he was passing a convenient store, he heard some commotion in the alley behind it.

He ignored it and started to walk his way, but he saw a glimpse of a grey uniform skirt and snapped his head towards you.

He saw you, clad in Kunigioka's grey uniform and surrounded by three tattooed bulk men.

"Come on little girl, just keep us company for some karaoke. You see my friends and I we all are really bad singers and would love some help."______"What makes you think I'm good at singing?"________" Oh I can tell you are naturally good at it little bird! Your angelic voice is like as sweet as honey to my ears."________"Back off."_________"What?"________"I said back off you pathetic excuse of a human being before I break your willy and shove it down your throats."________"YOU STUPID BITCH!!!"

He raised his hand, but before he could even swing you neck sliced him in the throat and kicked him down there. He clutched himself as you once again kicked him in his ribs and hope that the blow was enough to keep him down for a bit. You grabbed your heavy aluminium water bottle (those things hurt guys😭 not that I've been hit by one but I accidentally hit myself. it's a great, heavy yet non-obvious self defense tool so carry one around👍) and swung it towards one of his friends. A sickening clang could be audibly heard as you hit him in the head and Congratulations!! You eliminated one more player.

You turned around and swung it towards yet another person who skillfully twisted and yanked your aluminium bottle away from you. This person was similar to your build and was standing in a defensive position, so you kicked the only thing available to you, his shin.

You were surprised as you heard a rather boyish yelp as your victim fell to the ground and grabbed his aching leg. Only then you realized......

Shit it's the previous headmaster's son.

"Oh no!! I didn't mean to kick you are you okay?"_________"I'm fine thank you."

You moved your hand towards the part of his leg which was sprained and saw that he flinched. Clearly he was in pain and seeing that he took care of one of the guys who was hitting on you felt bad so you took him to your house to treat his injury no matter how much he refused.

That was it. That's how he fell for you.

He expected himself to fall for someone who was at the same level of genius as him, but apparently he was wrong.

Why you ask he fell for you? Because you were the only one who can kick his ass purple and speak sweet words to him at the same time.

Seeing that you were an average student, not too good not too bad, he didn't really have a problem with sharing his feelings for you with someone.

The first one to notice it was not Ren, but Karma. Or you could say that Karma found his theory to be correct as he eavesdropped on Gakushuu telling Ren about how he felt for you.

Ren, knowing his manipulating skills encouraged Gakushuu to manipulate one of the teachers to transfer you from class C to class A.

And so you did.

Gakushuu, Ren along with Karma and you. This was a particularly chaotic classroom.

You weren't really complaining, as your grades got better the day you stepped in the class. But you can't shake the feeling that ten pairs of eyes were watching your every movement.

(And lol that was so true😂)

Gakushuu only respectfully watched you and your subtle movements. The way you'd chew on your pencil or nails when you were stuck, the way your eyes turned big round and innocent every time you didn't understand a concept, the way you'd pick on your peach fuzz on your face when you were anxious. Every single habit, every little thing he loved about you, he would have it memorized. Heck when he was feeling stressed out about his future company finances (yes he's planning big) he would pick on his own peach fuzz and smile like an idiot as his heart relaxes and flutters at the same time.

Ren however, watched for your responses to guys. Every time the handsome professor walked in, (admit it, we all have one at some point in our life😏) you would sit up straight, your spine rid of any slouchiness from studying. The way you would cross your legs so your skirt rides up just a bit, and the way your gaze turned sly and your smirk naughty, yes this boy is serious about helping his best friend. Heck he would even come up to you and talk to you to get some type of reaction towards him, but figures out you didn't really like him (ouch!😢)

But Karma stared. And by stared I literally mean stared. Bore holes in the back of your head by staring at you too much. He didn't understand that a guy as corrupt as Gakushuu would fall for a disheveled angel like you. It's not that you weren't beautiful, but the combination of scary principal's son and a smol fluffy bean didn't seem very safe. At times you would even find Karma behaving as an older brother to you. And you weren't one to complain but rather happy that someone in here truly cares for you than judge you for your grades.

Add 7 other girls who were suspicious of you and that's all the people who keep staring at you during the time you're in class.

Every morning you hand in your homework, it was always Gakushuu. You would hand in your homework, he would scan it once and turn around to check others'.

But you knew better than that.

After school was over, you would make your way to the hallway but a strong grip held you back.

"We need to work on your Social Studies. You suck at it."______"But shuu!!!"_______"No buts. Get in the library and wait for me there."

He would drag you to the library and make you study your worst subject (which isn't fun at all🤢) but he would make it a LOT easier for you to understand.

Of course Ren gave him some tips to flirting. Hold her pinky, look in her eyes, compliment her and yada yada yada yada yada......

He did try one of them, but he almost had a heart attack from his heart beating so fast that he decided not to listen to his minio- I mean friend anymore and do it his way.

And honestly he loves his way!!

He loved the cute nicknames you made for him while you whined for him to release you. He loved it the way your face lightens up when he explains there was an easier way to solve an equation.

All the nervousness is his system had vanished.

He also got to the point where when you got an obviously easy question wrong, he would pinch your cheeks while grinning wide.

This made study time a lot easier for you.

You weren't aware that he was like that for and with you only. Only you made him feel that way.

But you found out soon when he got TOO comfortable one day and let it slip out.

"Y/n I think I have a crush on you."

As soon as he said it, blood rushed to your cheeks and drained from his.

Both of you were staring at each other for a hot minute before you broke the silence.

"You're kidding aren't you? I'm not even that smart or that much of a genius in anything. I- but-"

"Y/n I know that. But it's just something about you that I love. I- I can't express in words how much I adore you."

You were starstruck.

Asano Gakushuu. THE Asano Gakushuu likes you!!!!

But you still refused to believe yourself AND his words. Wondering if he was turning into a playboy like Ren.

All you could say was "Then show me."

The library was quiet and you two specifically picked up a spot away from other students, the librarian and surveillance cameras so both of you can goof off. Who knew that this was also the perfect place to kiss?

He gently took your hand as he first stared at your eyes and shifted his gaze to your lips. You acted confident as if you knew how to kiss but god knows you kicked the ass of your first boyfriend before he could even hold your hand.

His gaze stayed on your lips as he licked his and visibly gulped. You wanted to throw a snarky remark but seeing the boy was as edged as a cat you wouldn't dare.

Bringing one of his hands up to your cheek he slightly tilted his head as he came near you before stopping right where your lips weren't touching his but you could feel his minty breath. Obviously waiting for you if you were okay with this, you decided to close that painful space between the two of you.

As soon as your lips touched his, he was in charge. This wasn't a particularly deep or fast kiss. You weren't digging your tongues in each other's mouth but rather just moving your lips to each other, as if giving silent yet intimate messages to each other. His lips slightly glided over yours, and you definitely knew that the way he was kissing you, he was an expert hidden within an amateur. The kiss wasn't heated or passionate in any way, but it was sinfully sweet.

It lasted for about a minute, but felt like an eternity.

Pulling away he stared at you again softly before saying "Thank You" and intertwining your fingers with his.

You were too shocked to react to anything. You were an average student. You got into fights. Your mom always yells at you to behave. Your dad keeps telling you to improve your temper. Why the hell does this boy like you?

He noticed you were staring at him the same way you stared at the blackboard during class when the professor was teaching the quantum theory for the first time.

Now that this boy had finally kissed you, he was bold enough to reach out his thumb and running it over your lower lip before popping it in his mouth.

"Pineapple flavoured lip balm, huh? I thought strawberry was the preferred choice when it came to anything for girls. Including......" his eyes lowered to your legs which felt like they were bare naked in the tiny skirt.

"Shuu!!!! Don't stare at me!!" You shoved him away as he laughed and you covered your face with your sweater paws.

"I'm sorry dear. You are just so adorable I couldn't help myself." He said while stroking your hair.

Little did they know a certain playboy on the other side of the library was paying attention to them the whole time and a redhead was poking his head from above one of the bookshelves.

[katehuntington]

Title: If The Bunker Had Windows Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x female reader Words: ±5250 words Description: When a Djinn case doesn’t go as planned, not everyone makes it. Dean, who is burdened by guilt, holes himself up alone in his room for days, until Y/N comes in to check on him. Will the girl who was his perfect world be able to pull him back from the darkness? Warnings: Angst/comfort. Mutual pining, some fluff. Description of canon typical violence and supernatural creatures. Mentions of injury, death and alcohol abuse. Depression, refusal to eat, grieving, crying. Satisfying ending. Author’s note: A one shot that will punch you in the feels, according to my betas @winchest09 and @deanwanddamons. Always grateful for you girls helping me out! And to my readers, I hope you enjoy my reading, thank you for your support.

     Serenity floats through the halls of the Men of Letters headquarters, like the morning mist on an autumn day. If the bunker had windows, the sun would have shone diagonal beams through the glass, warm and welcome, but instead it’s the light from the vintage table lamps that give this home its glow.

     Y/N moves down the hall towards the galley, her sock covered feet softly padding against the marble floors. Despite her stealth approach, Sam is waiting for her to appear in the doorway, his eyes already lifted from the tablet that lays flat on the mahogany table.      “Morning,” he greets, continuing to swipe through news articles, in his search for a case. “Coffee’s brewing.”

     She descends down the two steps and sets foot into the kitchen, the aroma of roasted beans flooding her senses. The night hasn’t been without worries and all the more without sleep, so she can use a good dose of caffeine.      “Thanks,” she returns.

     After pouring herself a generous amount of the dark beverage, her thoughts wander off to the other inhabitant of this oddly cosy concrete structure. Dean’s absence is obnoxiously evident, the air not filled with grumpy mutters before he had his coffee, neither with a lame joke that he found on the back of the cereal box, that only he finds funny.      With a deep sigh, she turns around with her favorite mug in her hand, resting against the counter. “Has he come out of his room yet?”

     Sam’s jaw flexes, the tall giant with a gentle heart glancing over. He doesn’t even have to shake his head for Y/N to know the answer. Shutting her eyes for a few seconds, she takes a sip from her hot drink, burning her tongue, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the pain she knows Dean is in.

     It’s been three days since the brothers returned from a particularly tough hunt. She remembers Sam’s voice hollering through the bunker, and she instantly realized that something terrible had happened. When she found the Winchesters in the garage, Dean leaning on his sibling and barely able to stay on his feet, the air was stolen from her lungs. His skin was paler than those of the spirits she has faced and he seemed barely conscious. His eyes beheld an emptiness that faded the forest green of his irises, leaving nothing but a shallowness that reminded her of death, even though his heart was still faintly beating.

     A Djinn had gotten to him, and by the time Sam found his brother, strung up to the ceiling of the monster’s den, he was barely alive. It was too late for the young college student who the hunters were hoping to save, her corpse dangling in shackles next to Dean, drained of blood and life. She was all but a grim memoir of their failure, a reminder of the fate that would have befallen the hunter, had the younger Winchester sibling not found him. 

     Back home, Sam and Y/N carried Dean to the infirmary and thankfully got a hold of Castiel, who came to the rescue as fast as he could. The angel might not be at full power, but he was able to pull his friend away from the reaper, who was without a doubt waiting to claim his soul like the vultures that they are. 

     Even though Cas glued the shattered shards back together until Dean was physically whole again, something inside him remains damaged beyond repair. The mighty hunter, who faces his enemies head on and with guns blazing, who laughs Death in the face, is defeated, and there is not much the cosmic being can do to change that. A broken body is much easier to heal than a broken mind.

     Y/N puts her empty coffee mug aside and exhales, coming back to the present. “Did he eat, at least?” she wonders, a desperate hopefulness in her pitch.      Again, Sam shakes his head. “He left dinner by the door without touching it. I’m sorry.”      The younger Winchester doesn’t have to apologize, after all, it’s not his fault that the food was left untouched. Yet, he knows their female companion had put a lot of effort in making Dean his favorite burgers, hoping it would persuade him.     “It’s okay, Sam,” she assures, forcing a smile.

     While the younger Winchester brother returns his attention to his tablet, Y/N takes a moment to collect herself. She then turns to the kitchen counter and crouches down, taking a large frying pan from the lower cabinets. After lighting up the stove and carefully placing a second ceramic pot on the fire, the bunker’s second best cook opens the refrigerator and collects a carton of eggs, milk, bacon and cheese.

     Sam watches her move around the galley, his brow furrowed. “What are you doing?”      “I’m making Dean breakfast,” she states, matter of factly.      The hunter sighs, pity evident in the soft exhale. “Y/N--”      “I have to try, Sam.” She cuts him off, the tremble in her voice noticeable. 

     Their eyes meet when the woman glances over her shoulder, still stirring the milk and eggs in a bowl. The younger Winchester is well aware that this meal will most likely end in the trash like the others, but he understands why she feels the need to take care of his brother. It’s her way of letting Dean know that she’s not giving up on him, no matter how thick the fog grows in the mind of the tormented hunter. It’s her way of keeping busy and doing something, anything, because watching from the sidelines while someone suffers, is not in her nature. Especially not when that person is Dean, the man who she cares so much for, more than she would like to admit.

     Sam’s lips press into a thin line, the corners reaching up slightly. The crow’s feet by his eyes wrinkle and become a little deeper, despite the brown hair that frames his gentle expression. She and Sam have been friends for a long time and often don’t need words anymore. With just a look, he explained that he sympathizes with her, and that he’s thankful for her efforts. 

     She returns his small smile and focuses on her cooking again, laying out the bacon into the hot frying pan, watching the meat as it starts to sizzle.

     Twenty minutes later, Y/N walks down the hallway towards the dorms, a tray in her hands decked out with scrambled eggs, french toast and a fresh cup of coffee. Before the first room on the right, she halts, staring at the golden ‘11’ on the wooden barrier in front of her. Contemplating if she should leave the warm meal on the threshold or not, she looks down at her feet.      “Dean?” she calls out, hesitant. “Is it alright if I come in?”

     Her question remains unanswered, only fueling her doubt. Is he sleeping? Would she be crossing a line if she enters? Of course she wants to grant him his privacy, but he has been cooped up in there for three days now, without food, without social interaction. There have been many times when she was worried sick about the hunter who has already endured so much, and these past days only add to that count. What is the right approach here? Give him more time? 

     Closing himself off and pushing down the agony is his go-to coping mechanism, and although it isn’t a healthy one, she always respected the space he needed to move past the pain. She’s used to him being quiet, taking the Impala for late night drives, drinking more than usual and sleeping less. But at least he came out of his room, at least he ate. Now, everything is different.

     Before she can reconsider, she balances the tray in one hand, freeing the other to reach for the brass knob. Carefully, she pushes the door ajar, allowing the light from the hallway to bleed into Dean’s room. The state in which she finds the resilient soldier, who courageously charges into battle and has won wars on strength and will alone, almost brings her to tears. He’s in his bed, curled up on the far left of the mattress, leaving the empty space next to him vacant. His back is turned towards her as he lays in a fetal position, the comforter pulled up over his shoulder. The darkness that surrounds him only seems fitting for his frail state of mind.

     Y/N isn’t sure if the older Winchester brother is even awake, since he fails to respond to her presence, but she steps into the shadows nonetheless.      “Dean? I brought breakfast,” she announces, softly enough that if he is sleeping, her words will not wake him.

     The broken form in the bed shifts slightly. She might not realize it, but Dean has heard her, and has done every single time she has brought him something to eat. Her light footfalls passing his room, the hesitation on his doorstep, the soft knocks on the wood, the sigh when she turned away again. A part of him was glad she never came in before, yet at the same time, he was fighting the urge to call out, craving her company, her touch. Anything even remotely close to the way she was with him in his dreams, when held captive.

     “I’m not hungry,” he croaks, his voice failing after not having used it for so long.      “You’ve got to eat something,” she tries again. “It’s been a couple of days.”

     The beaten hunter turns into his pillow, leaving the woman who intends to make him feel better by the door. A shuddering breath falls from her lips, one laced with disappointment and frustration. He should be used to letting people down by now, but it still stings. Struggling to not give in to his own longing, he opens his weary eyes and stares at the empty bottle on his nightstand, the whiskey it once beheld long gone.

     Dean expects her to leave. It would do him justice, because he doesn’t deserve such kindness. But instead, he can hear her shuffle closer. She makes room on the side table, putting the remnants of his self medication down on the floor, the glass thudding softly on the stone surface, and sets down a tray. The smell of bacon fills his nose, and even though his stomach growls in response, he is sure the food would turn to ash in his mouth. Nothing can still the hunger that this perfect dream stirred up. Nothing can fill the hole in his gut that has only grown larger since Sam pulled him away from the world created by the Djinn he was supposed to kill. 

     He gave in to a fairy tale, even though he is well aware they are make-believe. He couldn’t leave that utopia, because for once, he just wanted to be happy. Instead of stepping up and slaying the monster at the end of the book, he was selfish, weak, and a girl died because of it.

     His self-destructive chain of thought is interrupted when the bed dips down, Y/N taking up the small space on the edge of the mattress. Her delicate hand reaches for him, moving his tousled hair from his forehead, running her fingers through his light brown locks. Closing his eyes, he swallows with difficulty, biting down to keep the tears at bay. He doesn’t want her to see him in this state, to see the fucked up train wreck that he is. 

     “Talk to me,” she says softly, her whisper breaking the silence, but Dean shakes his head.      “I can’t,” he returns, hoarse. “You should go.”      She stands her ground. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

     The tired hunter doesn’t have the energy to argue, and for a while, they just are. Dean on his side, huddled under the comforter, Y/N right next to him, one leg pulled under her, the other dangling from the edge of the bed. The motions of her gentle caressing almost lulls him to sleep, but he doesn’t allow unconsciousness to take him. The second he drifts off, he will be faced with either the same old horrific nightmares he has gotten used to, or return to the dream that will never be. Waking up from either will be too devastating for him to handle.

     Wishing she could offer him any kind of solace, Y/N allows her thumb to rub his temple, cupping his handsome face gingerly. The action draws his weary eyes to meet hers for the first time this morning. The slight improvement should be a relief, yet it is anything but. The sorrow that swims in his gaze breaks her heart.

     “It isn’t your fault,” she offers, her words so soft, that if the room hadn’t been draped in silence, the hunter would have missed it.      Dean looks away, however, shaking his head slightly, unable to accept her comfort. “It is. I could’ve snapped out of it.”

     The woman by his bedside furrows her brow, her expression soft and sympathetic. Why does he expect the impossible from himself? Why does he have to rescue everyone on this earth? No one can live up to that, not even the hero that he is. It’s a burden too heavy to bear for any being, a responsibility that sets him up to fail, because he can’t save them all. He would always beat himself up, whenever they would lose an innocent during a hunt, but this time there’s more to it. This time he can’t get up.

     “A Djinn put you under. How could you have known it was a dream?” she says, trying to help him see that this blame is not his to take.      “That’s the thing,” he sighs, the air that flows from his lungs substantial with regret and remorse. “I was aware it wasn’t real. I just… I didn’t wanna wake.”

     Without pausing, her gentle touch traces the scruff on his cheek as she analyses his words that raise so many questions. If he knew what he was experiencing was indeed a fantasy, then why didn’t his hunter instincts kick in? Coming back from a coma as such is anything but easy. Yet just like with a vivid nightmare, once one realizes the terrors are nothing but a manifestation of their deepest fears, they can fight their way back to the surface. What could Dean have possibly seen that would keep him from coming home?      “What did you dream about?” she wonders.

     His focus turns in a thousand yard stare, as if he can see it all again. Every reason that made him decide to lay down his weapons when the creature captured him. Every experience that was so tentative, that he was ready to swap that reverie for reality. Every vision, every touch, every smile, every laugh. Every wish come true. It is right there, just out of reach, displayed behind the glass that encases his memories, reminding him of what will never be.

     “Mom, Dad... they were alive,” Dean begins, the recollections causing his eyes to shimmer. “Your parents too. Sammy was married to Jess. She was pregnant.”

     Y/N listens to the fallen hunter breathlessly, trying not to blink, because she knows it would force the tears to fall from her lashes. Slowly, it begins to dawn on her why he couldn’t find his way back. 

     “There were no monsters, we didn’t hunt. Sam was a lawyer, I owned an auto shop. We had family barbecues, dinner during thanksgiving. It was…” he lets out a shuddering breath, drops brewed by bittersweet reminiscence rolling down from the corner of his eye. “It was simple, peaceful, without the constant worry. No sorrow, no regret. And you, the way you were smiling… I’ve never seen you glow like that.” 

     He breaks away from the perfect vision, glancing at the woman who he got to call his in that dream. The woman who he lived with, in a house by a lake, with a back porch looking out over the water. The woman who he married and gave him two beautiful children. The woman who he loves, and in that perfect world he allowed to love him back.

     Dean tries to swallow down the painful lump that obstructs his throat as a hint of a smile tucks at the corner of his mouth. He could tell her all that, but it wouldn’t do her any good. In fact, that illusion might break her, just like it broke him. Instead, he allows a final sentence to fall from his lips, but the emotion that has closed around his airway only allows a whisper.      “We were so happy.”

     Tears find their way down Y/N’s face, leaving shimmering pathways in their wake. Not a word has left her, not even the smallest sound. She doesn’t trust her voice to ease his dreadful affliction. 

      It makes sense now, why he couldn’t bring himself to pop that bubble. What Dean experienced, it sounds perfect. It is the definition of heaven, not just for him, but for all the people he cares about. It shouldn’t be a surprise to her that the selfless man only wants what’s best for his family, eliminating his personal desires, but it moves her nonetheless. Their happiness, her happiness, is Dean’s.      It’s only then that his choice of words begins to settle in her conscience.      “We?”

     Confusion adds to all the emotions that pass by in her misty eyes like frames of a silent film. The hunter’s gaze meets hers again, and he’s not sure if he should be terrified or relieved when he sees that puzzlement transition into comprehension. The puckered lines between her brows even out as her mouth opens slightly, her eyes growing larger, boring into his soul.      “We were together,” she realizes.

     Dean doesn’t have to confirm, it wasn’t a question after all. She has figured it out already, and that conclusion now hovers between them, neither of the two knowing what to do with the revelation.      “Doesn’t matter,” he eventually whispers. “It was just a dream.”

     The downhearted conclusion has Y/N tilt her head to the side, watching the man who she has loved ever since she met him. The memory is one she holds dear, the wide grin he flashed after witnessing her taking down two vampires with a machete, before he and his brothers even got the chance to make the kill. She didn’t think she needed saving, but when his emerald greens took her in, she felt a warmth flair in her heart. He did in fact rescue her that day, and now it was her turn to rescue him. Y/N breathes in, because in order to do so, she needs to be brave. 

     Her left hand reaches for his, which is holding onto the pillow under his head. She takes it, unfolding his clenched fist, and laces their fingers together.      “It doesn’t have to be,” she speaks softly.

     For a few seconds Dean beholds their entwinement, astounded by the gesture. Is she doing this because she feels sorry for him? Because she’s worried that her resentment would send him further into the dark? But when he glances up at her, the look she gives him stuns the hunter. There’s no pity, nor desperation. All he sees is a softness in her beautiful eyes, a calmness that tells him that it’s alright, that she knows, and that she feels the same way. 

     “Y/N...” he utters, unable to let go of her hand, but not ready to close her palm in his a little tighter. “We can’t. It’s only gonna end sad and bloody.”      She shrugs at that, running her thumb over his rough skin, the motion soothing them both. “Maybe,” she agrees, “but denying this, not giving in to what we feel, isn’t that worse?”

     His chest rises and falls slowly, his focus now locked on their hands again, while the woman still seated on the side of his bed holds her breath. It’s almost as if he’s too scared to look at her, aware how fragile this moment is. They are at a crossroads, and depending on the direction he decides to take, this instant might remain just that, a jiff, or it might be the start of something new, yet terrifying.

     “I don’t want you to get hurt,” Dean sighs, fresh tears glistening though his long lashes.

     Swallowing with difficulty, Y/N looks down, sniveling. She can feel him slipping through her fingers like sand in an hourglass, every passing second taking the battered hunter further away. But before she loses him all together, she strengthens her hold.      “I know you don’t,” she acknowledges, “but having to look back at some point, realizing we missed our shot and watched that ship sail by, that would cause me so much pain, that I--”

     The whimper that falls from her lips, draws his gaze up to study her expression. She’s crying silently, her mouth firmly closed in a thin line. The woman who goes out her way to make him feel better, is breaking in front of him because of his doing, and it hurts him more than anything he has felt in the past three days. Instinctively, he frees himself from her hold, only to take her small hand in his palm, protectively wrapping his fingers around hers. The reassurance gives her just enough strength to continue her plea.

     “After everything we’ve been through, the losses, the sacrifices. Hell, multiple apocalypses…” she begins, barely able to grasp how many battles they have survived. “We deserve this.”

     There is not a doubt in the hunter’s mind that Y/N has earned all the happiness the universe can offer, but him? No, he hasn’t. People have died because of him, lives ruined, families torn apart. He has made too many mistakes, and no amount of good deeds could set the record straight.      “Why would you wanna be with me?” he huffs, shaking his head slightly. “I’m such a fuckin’ mess...”

     Y/N takes him in, the man who has never believed he was good enough for anything. There is not a monster on this planet that could hate Dean more than he hates himself. If only he could see how Sam looks up to his big brother, how proud he would have made his parents, if they had still been alive. If only he could see her, and know how much she loves him.

     Taking a bold step, she begins to lower herself, leaning towards him. The action is rushed, afraid that the coward inside of her might alter the course, but once her lips meet Dean’s, she stills. She can sense him freezing against her and panic jolts through her body, the fear of rejection almost having Y/N pull back herself. But then he eases, his mouth moving with hers. The kiss is short and light. Neither of them intends to deepen the touch, the gesture adding enough depth to the situation as it is.

     When she opens her eyes, his are still closed. Almost as if he was still in the Djinn’s hold, and can’t let go of the bliss that surrounds him. A small smile adorns her soft features as she waits for him to look at her, which he only does when she lovingly brushes her nose against his.

     While his focus bounces over her features, taking in every perfect imperfection that makes the woman before him so unmistakably her, he mirrors her smile. No one wants to disturb this precious moment, but Dean has to let out the breath he was holding for some time. He shifts his head against the pillow, watching how Y/N pulls his hand closer, pressing her lips to the knuckles, lovingly. 

     “I’m a mess too,” she admits. “I’m just as scared, Dean. But, together it might just get a little more bearable. I know I’m just a fraction of that dream--”      “- Y/N.” The hunter stops her then and there, pushing himself off the mattress on his elbow. He might not think of himself as worthy, but he will not stand for her effacing her own purpose. The interruption silences her instantly, her wondering eyes still glossed over with emotion, awaiting. Now it’s his time to be brave. 

     He doesn’t let go of her hand, nor of her gaze. He doesn’t let go of the woman he wants to spend his remaining days with, no matter how many or how few.      “You are so much more than a fraction,” he expresses, heartfelt.

     Having made up his mind, Dean sits up and reaches for her, the warm shade of green only hooded by closing lids when his mouth finds hers. He allows himself to graze over her soft lips, drinking in the one person who he has longed for, but never expected to be with. The sensation that erupts in his stomach once the kiss intensifies is the equivalent to a firework show, the bright colors and sparks lighting up the black skies. Euphoria overwhelms him, the same sense that flooded his conscience when the Djinn lured the hunter into that heavenly hallucination. This is a dream too, and yet it isn’t, because this, this is real.

     The kiss leaves Y/N breathless, yet she is able to sense his warm hand coming up her side and sliding around her back to settle between her shoulder blades, hugging her tight without ever removing his lips from hers. Finally, they are here. After months, years of denial, they are ready to give themselves to each other. Sometimes you need to lose all that isn’t, to appreciate what is. 

     She has to pull every string not to cry in elation, but can’t stop the drops of emotion from rolling down. When Dean feels the wetness against his own cheeks, he reluctantly breaks the connection, cupping her face worriedly.      “Hey…” he hushes.      She shakes her head, dismissing his concern, and laughs through the tears. “I’m okay. I’m just - I’m so happy right now, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

     A twinkle reaches her eyes, making it impossible for Dean to look away. He never thought he would be able to witness her so content, let alone have her admit it out loud. Not in this world, anyway. An image of the custom made dream forged by the Djinn pushes itself to the forefront, Y/N on the porch of their house, comfortable in his arms, absolutely beaming. When he awoke from that coma, he thought that the illusion couldn’t be further from reality, but he was wrong.      “I’ve seen that smile before,” he says warmly.

     Y/N grin grows even wider at that, but before she can ask what the man who she just revealed her affections to means, a rumble rises from Dean’s stomach, causing them both to drop their gaze to where the sound is coming from. Once she realizes what caused it, she giggles, and it’s the greatest harmony Dean has ever heard. 

    “You must be starving,” she comments while wiping her tears, hoping he will finally take in some food after having gone three days without it.     “I could eat,” he admits with a chuckle.      “Well, it’s a good thing I made you scrambled eggs with cheese and extra bacon then.” She straightens her back and shifts to the edge of the bed, taking the tray with both hands. “Scoot.”

     Dean pushes himself up further and sits back against the headboard, his mouth watering when Y/N sets the platter over his lap. Only now does he realize how hungry he truly is. He picks up the cutlery and cuts off some toast, overloading it with egg before he has a mouthful, the delicious meal still warm on his tongue.      “Take it easy, okay? Wouldn’t want you to get sick,” she says kindly, reaching for him and rubbing her thumb over his stubble.      He looks up at here before taking a bite of the strip of meat, his eyes having gained some of that boyish sparkle again. Relieved by the sight, Y/N watches him, glad that she finally managed to get his spirits up. 

     “You want some?” Dean checks with his mouth full, pushing the plate of bacon in her direction.      She frowns at that. “Since when do you share food?”      “Since now, and only with you,” he admits. “Don’t tell Sam.”

     They share a laugh and continue to eat in silence until the dishes are so clean, they barely need washing. The pair leave the darkness of room ‘11’, Dean heading for the showers, Y/N turning the corner towards the kitchen. With a spring in her step, the giddy woman makes her way through the hallways of the enormous building. The tray in her hands feels much lighter, and not just because of the cleared plates she’s carrying. 

     With a smirk on her lips, she hops down the steps into the galley, finding Sam by the fridge, who is restocking it with the groceries he just picked up. It’s not until he notices the empty dishes which she sets down on the counter, that his gaze shoots up to their female companion’s joyful eyes.     “He ate?” he asks, hopeful.     “He did,” Y/N smiles, dropping the plates in the sink. “He’s feeling much better, he’s freshening up now.”      The younger Winchester continues to stare at her in awe, stammering something intellectual, before he pauses and blinks a couple of times.      “What happened?” he can’t help but wonder, surprised by his brother’s improvement.

     She remains silent for a few seconds while she runs the tap and adds dish soap to the hot water. What took place in his room is hard to explain. It required a long list of events, building up to this disclosure. It involved Dean opening up about what he went through, comfortable enough to share his grief and let it out. It included them both being fearless after being scared for so long. It comprehended two individuals, growing together, taking a leap to cross a gap that seemed impossible to overcome. 

     “He let the light in,” she states simply, meeting Sam with a meaningful smile.

     Grateful, the tall hunter huffs in astonishment, before he closes her in a hug and presses a kiss on her hair, not needing words to tell just how appreciative he is of her presence. He  assists her and takes up the task of drying the dishes, the two friends working side by side to finish the chore. They are storing away the plates, the noise of the china being stacked in the cupboards allowing Dean to wait in the doorway without being spotted just yet. He’s freshly showered, wearing his dark grey robe over comfortable clothes, leaning against the post and taking in the woman who has turned his life around. 

     If the bunker had windows, the sun would have shone brightly. The late morning rays would come in through the portals to the outside world, illuminating their home. The beams would have been warm and healing, burning away sadness and discomfort, like it would melt the snow on the last days of winter. 

     But the bunker doesn’t need windows.      The bunker has her.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page).

[ffangirlingsince2001]

Nothing Alike: VII

Description: Geralt of Rivia has been tasked with taking out a fellow Witcher who has decided to settle down in a town. She has no intention of leaving and Geralt is forced to take matters into his own hands.

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: VIOLENCE, gore, smut, language, sadistic reader

MASTERLIST

She was silent for three days. Plotting and planning while the prison cart jostled her around like a sack of vengeful flour. Geralt tried to talk to her. He asked her if she was alright. She only ignored him, offering him the most persistent cold shoulder he had ever encountered.

The man dressed in the fancy suit also tried to talk to her. He apologized, he dragged her from the cart, and he threatened to cut off her fingers, but she never uttered a word. Even as the knife was held over statuesque fingers, she didn’t utter a word, the cogs in her mind only spin faster.

He didn’t actually cut off her fingers; it was more difficult to sell a slave when she didn’t have fingers. However, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his fingers around her throat until her lips turned blue and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Even then she didn’t speak, so, in a fit of rage, he threw her back into the cart and ordered them onwards.

On the fourth day they pulled into a town and she was sitting up straight, the mask of an exhausted, weak prisoner covering that of a bloodthirsty mastermind.

“It’s a wonderful morning, don’t you think?” she asked through trails of crocodile tears, Geralt was so surprised she was finally speaking that he was unable to answer before the cart came to a bumpy halt in the center of town.

He was surprised about the number of people milling around a slave trade but at the sight of their streets and the gnarl to their smiles, he realized this wasn’t just the black market, this was a black city. Slashed across every home was a stripe of red paint, marking their payment to those above them. And as they were unloaded from the cart, shackled, and bound he found the payment.

Children and women were shackled just the same as they were, heads hung low as a man in a hood brandished his whip through the sky. They all seemed to flinch in unison, waiting for the thin wire to meet its mark. He and Y/N were added to the line, but she didn’t seem at all worried. It hadn’t seemed to sink in that it was too late. Any plan she had was nothing more than a suicide mission.

“Don’t,” he whispered, hoping she would listen, begging whatever god was listening that she would heed his word. She didn’t react, but the smug pep in her step never faltered. She was practically skipping as they led them towards city hall.

She definitely hadn’t listened.

At the steps of the building, a man who he presumed was the auctioneer, was collecting weapons from the wealthy. It seemed this auction had problems with unhappy customers. He eyed the iron as he was pushed past, wishing that at least one had fallen into his hands.

Once inside the building there were at least a hundred more wealthy individuals, watching with apt fascination as the prizes of the day were led around the room. Each slave was positioned against the wall. A time for the buyers to shop around, see what was worth spending their money on. And it seemed Y/N was the most interesting thing they had seen in a while. A crowd quickly gathered around her. Geralt strained to hear what they were saying, even seeing her reaction would have been enough, but the crowd was too large and a man who apparently hated Witchers was standing in front of him.

“I’d only buy him to kill him,” he informed whoever was willing to listen. Geralt eyed the scrawny man and had to refrain from rolling his eyes. The only thing that man looked capable of doing was pouring himself a drink at the local tavern. “You hear me Witcher, I’m gonna kill you.”

Geralt rolled his eyes that time.

It wasn’t until half an hour later when the crack of the whip sounded, and the slaves were moved to the stage. Somehow Y/N had ended up at the end, the prize of the evening. She looked solemn and a soft crocodile tear was rolling down her cheek. She even sniffed to add to the whole charade. Frankly, it was more ridiculous than the man who had spent the last half hour threatening him.

He stared out into the crowd as the few dozen slaves before them were sold off. Children sold for more than adults, and women sold for more than men. Every time the gavel slammed against the oak podium the slave winced before being dragged off the stage and handed to their purchaser. Some children sobbed for their mothers and the men fought, but the women were always quiet, resigned to their fate.

And then it was his turn.

Geralt was shoved to the front of the stage and caught the eye of the man who had been speaking to him throughout the viewing. He was clearly itching to rid the world of a Witcher. The moment it was open his hand was in the air and Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf, Butcher of Blavikan was sold for three gold pieces. It seemed witchers were not a popular purchase among the wealthy.

Truly, an insult to his life.

He was roughly dragged out of the room, but he wasn’t going to leave her behind, no matter how much she annoyed him. He struggled against the hold of the man leading him towards his buyer but something blunt caught him in the back of his head and he was on the ground, blood leaking from his scalp. The world grew dark and then there was nothing.

When Geralt awoke he was sure he was dead, and while that was inconvenient, he couldn’t help but chuckle about how mad the man who had bought him would be that he hadn’t been able to deed himself.

Hell was certainly not what he had expected, though he wasn’t sure he had really expected anything other than darkness. There was no fire and no brimstone; in fact, it was rather chilly. He was covered in blood, and he wasn’t entirely sure who it had once belonged to, it certainly wasn’t his, there was far too much of it. Hell seemed to be the same room he had been killed in, an annoying reminder that he had been bested by a clobber to the back of the head. The room stunk of death, and he wondered if it was his own corpse. He sniffed his arm, just to check.  

And then he heard what truly made it hell.

“Planning on getting up anytime soon?”

His head shot up, making the room spin, but the fact that his hell contained the Witcher he had made the mistake of latching to his belt made him question if mercy had ever existed.

She was covered in blood too, far more than he was. She was absolutely soaked, and he wondered if the blood in his hair was hers. The hell version of her had no similarity to the whimpering act she had been displaying moments before his life was cut short. She looked unnervingly smug, like she had won some wonderful prize. Maybe tormenting him was her prize.

And then he noticed the bodies.

One hundred bodies were spread across the floor, completely drained of blood, their wealthy white clothes no longer worth a cent. He swept his eyes across the carnage and then back to Y/N, and then to the auctioneer who he hadn’t noticed until now.

This wasn’t his hell; this was her heaven.

“I saved you one,” she announced, her voice snapping the silence in half. He only shook his head. It felt unnatural to speak hear, like he would be haunted if he dared to say anything in the presence of the once lively room. “Suit yourself,” she shrugged before turning towards the auctioneer who screamed beneath the gag she had once worn. She tossed the sword she had been holding to the ground and slunk forward, “More fun for me.”

Geralt looked away just as she dug her fingers into the auctioneer’s eyes. The screams were agonizing, echoing off the puddles of blood as he begged for mercy. That was all Geralt could make out through the terror, the word ‘please’. Had the sound not been so awful he would have laughed at the irony. After listening to the pleas of those he had sold, ignoring them with a grin, the last words the man would ever say were in perfect symmetry. And then with a gurgle he hit the floor, silent once more.

He allowed his eyes return to the Witcher as she stood in all her glory. She hopped down from the stage and wandered towards him, swinging the keys about her pinky finger. She unlocked his shackles and watched as he slipped around in the blood.

“Come on, you need a bath,” she informed him as she headed towards a door with minimal carnage.

“We need to leave.” She spun around, a dangerous glint in her eye.

“And why is that?”

“Someone will have alerted the authorities?”

“Who? The slaves I freed or one of the corpses? Or maybe you’re going to tell them?”

“You could have missed one,” he said ignoring her accusation.

“I didn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Would you like to count the bodies? Because I did, before the auction as they groped me and gawked at my face while I stood on their pedestal, and then I counted them again as I removed their organs from their pompous chests. Now have you counted someone I might have missed, or are you going to join me for a bath? Even if you do leave now, you’re a walking target. Who are they going to suspect, the man covered in blood or the one who recently had a bath?” He didn’t respond, simply followed her up the stairs and into the small apartment above the auction house.

She stepped into the bathroom and smiled at had once been a wealthy man’s bath. The water had heated the water, tendrils of steam beckoning him forward. He watched as she shed her clothes. Even the skin beneath her clothes was stained crimson. Her dips and curves sunk into the water, instantly muddling it with her sins. She turned around, moaning at the feeling of warmth.

“You’re not scared, are you?”

“Of what?”

“Me.” It was a taunt, a ploy to get him in the water, and he knew it. It got him in the water, nonetheless. He quickly shed his clothes and joined her, sinking beneath the steaming surface. Beneath the water he opened his eyes and was met with equally golden eyes. Blood was drifting off the pair like the steam above them, swirling around like liquid rubies to match her treasure chest eyes. He quickly surfaced, the water burning his eyes, and watched as she scrubbed away what remained of her fun.

“How did you do it?” He didn’t want to know.

“When one of the men grabbed me, I stole the knife he had snuck in. The rest was as easy as gutting a pig. I let them buy me and the moment they removed the shackles, he was dead. No one noticed until the doors were locked, and then they were all mine. Each one of them begged for mercy and I only laughed, mercy for those who rape and pillage, certainly not if I’m the executioner.”

She seemed so pleased with herself, like she had eaten the best feast in her life, not killed a hundred men and women. He didn’t feel sorry for them, quite the opposite, but that didn’t change the fact she had killed them with a smile. He knew she had killed before but seeing her in action made it so much more real, so much more sinister.

“What happened to you?” he asked her softly and she quirked an eyebrow.

“Did you not hear me? I killed them, Geralt, they couldn’t have touched me if they tried.”

“No, not today. Before you could kill with a smile.” The smugness faltered.

“Some of us are just born this way.”

“Liar.”

“It’s none of your business.” She had the dangerous glint again, but this time it was directed at him. When he didn’t continue to pester it faded and she approached him slowly, still stained hands pulling her forward until she climbed into his lap. Something deep within him said he shouldn’t, but it died the moment she kissed him.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. Her fingers tanged themselves in his hair and a spare hand lined his length up with her entrance. She sank onto him without warning, the pair groaning in unison. She snapped her hips forward, lips still pressed to him as she fucked herself on his hard on. He bit her shoulder and she howled with delight, nails digging into his scalp.

The act was almost like a murder of its own. The pain and the release felt just as damaging as a knife wound. She was a banshee as his hands found her hips and slammed her against him. Water spilled across the floor as they rocked their own hurricane through the bath. He wasn’t sure when her orgasm ended and when the second began, but he did his best to match each peak of pleasure. It wasn’t until after the third that she slowed her angry pace. She nuzzled her face into his neck, hips still pushing forward with the help of his hands.

“You’d kill me with a smile,” she whispered, and he stuttered, but she kept the rhythm going. “If you could bring yourself to do it, you’d kill me and grin all the while.”

“Y/N-.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not the first.” The questions flooded his mind, but he remained silent as a soft moan filled his ears. She was close again and he joined her as her muscles tightened and then released with uncharacteristic softness. She pulled away, clearly not in the mood to say anything more. “We should head out soon.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m bored.” She’d had her brains fucked out and she was already bored. Typical. He climbed out of the bath after her and waited for her to return after the promise of clean clothes. They quietly dressed and then she led him down to the stables where Roach was waiting patiently. He climbed on and hauled her on after him.

And then they left it all behind.

Taglist: @stuckupstucky @aurora-sweet @holyhumorliteraturelight @dreams-of-sunlight-and-starfire @auds24

[rogue-durin-16]

THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part II/VII)

"candy floss"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @sarcasticallywitty15 @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @leovaldez37 @missmulti @weasleywh0r3s

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: grief, feels, brief mention of Fred x Reader ig?

A/N: I decided to name the parts bc why the fuck not so keep an eye on the titles 👀. This story is based off this convo and these headcanons. If you wanna be tagged in the next parts tell me, and enjoy <3

Prologue :the aftermath

Part I : sleepless nights

Part III: shock therapy

Part IV: wrong name

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The moment the last group of customers decided it was time to call it a day and exited the shop, I left the till counter and grabbed my wand from my pocket, instantly turning the sign in the door so it could be read from outside 'closed'.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned against the multicolored wooden rail.

I was drained.

The shop helped our minds to get distracted and stray from the grief, yes, but it was also exhausting.

We had been subconsciously overworking ourselves to the point where it was borderline self-destructive.

It didn't help that I was throwing myself into comforting George, either. I could not be blamed for doing that, though; he was broken.

A part of me, the rational one, knew he would pick up the pieces and build himself up again, it would just take a lot of time.

There was another part of me, though, that depressed, drained part, that was beginning to think he would never heal by himself —maybe he wouldn't heal at all— but still held onto the hope that, if I tried hard enough, I would be able to mend what had been broken in him.

A terrible idea, really, because I started to dismiss in its entirety my own miserable, damaged state.

And George, ever the caring, sensible one, would have noticed that; he would have made me realize I was not doing nearly as well as I thought, he would have talked some sense into me, but he wouldn't— he couldn't, because George was lost in an ocean of grief, trying so hard not to drown that he wasn't able to notice I was trying to aid him from my very own sinking boat.

It also seemed to be working; he was more animated, slept more soundly, and his smile was a bit brighter even —at least the one he had for me.

"Rough day?" My eyes, which I didn't know I had closed, fluttered open at George's voice.

"Very."

He walked to me with a tinge of guilt in his face. "You know we can switch places, right?" I had been working as the public face of the shop since we had reopened, and George had taken on the task of doing the paperwork and shippings instead, showing up from time to time to help me and to let people know there was still a Weasley running the business.

I had been the one to suggest this, since I knew George had compromised with reopening only because of me, and he was clearly not ready to put up a sociable, positive attitude for dozens of people every day.

"Nah, it's fine like this." I assured him with a reassuring smile.

He measured me with his eyes for a second; I couldn't really tell if he saw through me or not. "So I was preparing the today's shippings," he rocked a tiny purple basket I quickly recognised in front of me. "I found this in the back of the stockroom."

"Are those—?"

"Candy floss cupcakes, yes." A year and a half ago we had bought five baskets of candy floss cupcakes from Honeydukes per George's request in order to unsuccessfully try and implement them.

"Are they even edible anymore?" I couldn't help but laugh.

"I hope so?" He chuckled too, tearing the film covering the sweets. "Thought we might as well finish them."

My eyes travelled from the basket to him and viceversa before stating, "well I'm hungry so..."

"Same here." He was the first one to pull out a pastel colored cupcake, though he handed it to me. "Wanna get food poisoning together?" Laughing, I gave him a nod as he grabbed his own cupcake. "At the count of three?"

"One"

"Two"

"Three." We said in unison right before taking a bite of our respective madeleines.

I frowned at its surprisingly good flavour. "Am I delirious or are they actually edible?"

"Dunno," he shoved the rest of his cupcake into his mouth with a shrug. "maybe we're just starving."

"Go big or go home, I guess." I finished my cupcake before leaning on the basket to pick another one. My head snapped up with my brow quirked when I heard a soft chuckle. "What?"

"Nothing." George shook his head, motioning at the stairs. "Shall we sit down?" I followed his lead, sitting on the stairs and waiting for him, who had stepped towards the drinks aisle to grab a couple of juice bottles, to do the same.

We stayed there, eating and drinking in a comfortable silence until the basket was empty and our eyelids threatened to shut.

"I think we should head back to the flat." He spoke, leaving the half empty juice aside so he could stretch.

"I'm gonna learn how to cook." I stated, getting up. "We can't get by based on most likely expired sweets and whatever is in the Leaky Cauldron menu."

"Aight." He mimicked my actions, picking up the stuff we left on the stairs. "We will learn the basics tomorrow." He got behind me and began to gently push in the flat's direction. "But now we're gonna get some sleep, miss."

I would be lying if I said my heartbeat didn't pick up when his hands landed on my shoulder blades and made their way to rub both my arms reassuringly.

I would be lying if I denied I leaned back when he did that, letting myself get closer to his chest.

And I would definitely be lying if I said I didn't crave going back to my room so I could cuddle him all night.

One Week Later

"—right in the cauldron, love." I pointed at the cauldron besides me, giving a sweet smile to the kid in front of me, visibly going to be sick thanks to the free sample of Skiving Snackboxes.

"Y/n!" I spun around at the loud calling of my name above the shop's racket. I was able to discern a long, red mane flowing fast towards my position right on time for the owner to wrap her arms around me.

"Glad to see you too, Ginny." I laughed, trying not to lose balance due to her enthusiasm. "How come you're here?" I questioned, pulling away.

"We heard you were open." Harry walked up to me, appearing from behind the girl, "And thought we'd pay a visit to our friends, right?" Ginny nodded, looking around while Harry gave me a quick, yet comforting hug. "Where's George?"

I motioned up to the small office, redirecting the couple's eyes to the second floor. "Doing paperwork—AH!" I jolted when a pair of hands tickled my sides, my head snapping to see the towering ginger standing behind me. "Speaking of the devil."

"I thought I saw Gin through the window," George explained, his hands lingering on my waist for long enough to his sister to stare, before pulling Ginny into a tight hug. "And came down to check if she was distracting my employee."

"You got her all bored here, mate." Harry pointed out, a light joking tone in his voice.

"And you're the one supposed to help with that?" George rolled his eyes dramatically. "Pfft... What a world we live in." With the said, he gave the boy a side hug. I heard Harry murmur an 'We missed you' before they pulled away with a pat on the shoulder.

My gaze landed on the youngest Weasley, whose welled up eyes were trained on her older brother's half smile. I only averted my eyes and waited for her to discreetly wipe away the unspilled tears while Harry and George catched up.

By the letters she had sent me, I reckoned the last time she had been near George, he had been lifeless; seeing a glimpse of who was once one of the most cheerful, funny and charismatic people in her life, was probably poignant to Ginny.

I hadn't realized she had moved closer until I didn't hear her soft voice. "Thank you." I offered her a confused smile, though deep down I knew what she meant.

Two Days Later

George was having one of those days.

We both knew it was coming soon; it had to happen sooner rather than later, since he had been in a surprisingly good mood for almost a week. I suspected seeing Harry and Ginny had brought back the events of the Second of May.

I suggested to close the shop for the day, since he was unable to move out of bed; he refused to do so, but I convinced him to stay in the flat and rest —it was Tuesday, anyway; I wouldn't have to handle many customers.

Due to that, when I saw Hermione, Ron, Bill and Fleur entered the shop, it was understandable that I hadn't become the happiest person in the world.

I greeted them, there were hugs, kisses, and even a joke or two, and when Bill asked about George, I excused him without giving much detail.

They understood.

Fleur was the one to restart the conversation, lightening a bit before requesting a tour for the shop, since she had not yet been there.

It was when we reached the love potions that Hermione, using the fact that Fleur was very much interested in the product, held my hand and pulled me aside.

"So... how are you doing?" The frown in her face, the fact that she was whispering, the squeeze her hand gave mine, let me know she had read me the moment her eyes met mines.

I sighed with a shrug.

"You can tell me." Could I? "No one's asking you to put on a happy face, Y/n." The girl assured me, her eyes digging into mines. "It's not just George, we all lost—" she shook her head at her own words before correcting herself. "you lost him too."

I lost him too.

I bit my lower lip to stop it from quivering.

The memory of Fred's broken smile as his corpse laid on the stretcher, that memory that haunted my dreams, appeared vividly before my eyes.

My lips started to burn with the ghost of that kiss he gave me before we split up, him with Percy and me with George; it hadn't been meant to be a goodbye kiss. It was meant to be a good luck kiss.

I covered my mouth to muffle a sob, and Hermione's arms were quick to be wrapped around me, reassuringly rubbing my back.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

I saw them entering from Y/n's balcony; I wasn't emotionally ready to face them all at the same time, but when I didn't see them exit, I figured Y/n hadn't been able to dismiss them.

I decided I owed to them all to bite the bullet, so I threw on a shirt and the first trousers I grabbed, cleaned up a bit and left the flat.

With a deep breath, I made it to the second floor and mentally prepared myself to go down to the first one.

As I began to climb down, though, I noticed Hermione and Y/n talking in private, closer than the others to the stairs.

I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but all my senses were automatically focused on Y/n whenever we were in the same room; she just stole me away from reality.

"You lost him too."

Hermione's words visibly triggered something on Y/n.

'Something', as if I didn't know what they had triggered, as if I didn't know what— who was on her mind.

I guess he was always on her mind, though.

What was left of my heart shattered in a million pieces when she broke down to tears —for several reasons—. "I miss him." She whispered in Hermione's shoulder. "I miss him so much."

If I had any tears left, I would have cried my eyes out right there. Had I been so selfish that I had disregarded how she was feeling? So blinded by the light and love and warmth she was constantly giving me that I had forgotten about her grief? Was I that bad of a person, that I would have rather live in the illusion that she had not lost the boy she was dating?

My mind told me I didn't want any of those questions answered.

"George!" As Ron yelled my name in surprise, Hermione and Y/n pulled away, the latter rubbing her eyes while both of my brothers jogged upstairs to hug me. "Ginny told us you're open—"

"But Y/n said you weren't feeling well." Bill finished, squeezing my shoulder. "We only stayed a little longer for Fleur to see the shop."

"Yeah, we'll come back tomorrow," Ron assured me. "So you can rest and..."

My brother's voice sounded further and further with each word; I felt myself drifting off, getting lost in my own mind and gravitating towards the same thought over and over.

She deserves better.

[yutahoes]

Otou-Chan

Yuta Nakamoto x Reader (Y/N) Smut

(Chapter Six)

Summary: 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐰𝐚 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚’𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬.

Warning:  Matured Content, Smut, One Night Stand

Word Count: 3.6k

(I suck at writing smut. 😭 I don’t even know why I’m doing this. Kill me now.)

Masterlist

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️

6. That Hot, Romantic Parisian Night

On the cab, Yuta had made a point that he wanted her as he didn't shy away at the bulging arousal getting evident on his pants. "Why are you so embarrassed?" he asked while looking at the driver who was obviously checking if the two are going to fuck in his car. "This is because of you so you have to be proud of it." Oh, she thought, come to think of it he has a point. They're both consenting adults and it's normal, they're in the city of love. "He might just be curious about why I'm not fucking you merciless in his car."

"You know, with all the cab fare you wasted, you can buy a car here in Paris or even rent one," she claimed when he fished out some cash to pay the driver, making Yuta laugh. "It's my last day in Paris, maybe next time I'm here," he said while guiding her inside the posh hotel.

Some people were greeting him and (Y/N) wondered how rich Yuta is in reality, maybe he really is a CEO. "Rich people," she mumbled while shaking her head as they enter the elevator.

When it stopped on the top floor, (Y/N) was again in awe. Damn, Yuta is really wealthy. His hotel room is really spacious, like a real house and even their house isn't as big as this. "Feel at home," he said as he opened the stereo for some slow songs and opened the lights for her to admire the room more.

"This is amazing and I thought my hotel room is really great, this is just superb," she claimed as she eyed the tall windows, overlooking the streets of Paris at night. She wanted to draw this scene before her, her hand itching to get a pencil and a piece of paper. "You are one wealthy man." she complimented that made him smile, moving closer to her. "You're lucky I'm not some hooker who's here to get your money."

She gave a little yelp when he pulled her closer and held her waist. "I'm glad you aren't." He kissed her, the same French kissing that they did earlier but now, she wanted to melt at the way he holds her. Yes, she isn't a hooker but she felt like one, his own personal hook up.

He pushed her on the couch, not breaking away his lips from her that made her grab the back of his hair. Fuck, Yuta and the things that his mouth can do. She is so wet that she wanted him to touch her immediately. Well, it's not like this was the first time to have sex with him but when he removed his dress shirt, she was suddenly self-conscious about how perfect he is. "Shouldn't I shower first?" she asked when Yuta went back to attacking her neck. He gave her a hum of disapproval, licking her sweaty skin as if proving a point. "Yuta." she moaned that made him look at her, eyes hooded with lust.

Once again, he sucked on her neck that earned a moan from her, arousing his sexual desires. "You sound so sexy calling my name," he mumbled as his hands caressed her back, feeling the hook of her bra. "I want to fuck you so bad that you'll only remember my name." He nipped on her ear, eliciting a throaty moan from her. Damn, his words were so powerful that she could feel the dripping wetness on her core. "I can do that, right?" he asked while staring at her, waiting for a confirmation that made her nod.

In no time, he carried her inside the bedroom and threw her to the bed, completely removing his dress shirt that she was ogling at his toned body. Damn, he has such an erotic body and even his abs were visible. God, he is so fucking hot that she'll definitely just cum by watching him strip. Yuta removed his pants then crawled on top of her, touching her leg going up to her thigh under the skirt. His mouth was on hers in a rough kiss and the girl moaned when he cupped her sex, letting his tongue slither inside her mouth. "Lace," he mumbled when they broke off the kiss and she smiled at the thought.

"Red to be precise," she claimed as she sat down to remove the upper part of the dress, revealing her red lace brassiere that made him smirk.

"God, you are so hot," he exclaimed then kissed the spot between her breasts that made her moan. She arched her back as he touched her stomach, south to where her dress ended. "I want to do a lot of things to you," he mumbled as he gave her stomach butterfly kisses.

"It's all yours, Yuta. You can do what you want with it." That was the only invitation he needed to remove the dress off from her and revealed the red lacy wet panty that he was yearning to see. He wanted her, so bad. And with how she smelled and looked, she might have wanted the same thing.

Although he loved the red lace on her, he slowly removed her underwear that made her groan. "Stop teasing and fuck me, please," she begged that made his sanity go down the drain. Quickly, he pulled down his boxers to spring his hard cock free. (Y/N) gulped at the anticipation, he looked bigger than when they had sex on the plane. But when he entered her, she realized the reality of it. Yuta Nakamoto is really big in size that he filled her up almost immediately. "Fuck, Yuta!" she screamed and he smirked, pushing his cock deeper into her.

All the teasings were so worth it at how amazing he felt inside her. He started jerking his cock at a steady pace, pushing her body down the mattress. His mouth attached themselves to her neck that made her moan, giving supple kisses on her sensitive skin. "Oh God!" she shouted when she felt his tongue trail to between her breasts.

Instead of removing her bra, he pulled them down and gave one nipple a suck. Her hands were pulling his head closer as she bucked her hip, sending him deeper into her. This was so hot and by far the best sex she had, topping the airplane one which was caused by him as well. Yuta was so good, never faltering his thrusts that sent her on edge. "Aaah." she moaned, feeling that coil in the stomach as her walls tightened around his cock.

"Fuck baby, you are so tight," he mumbled before moving to another nipple to play and suck with.

"Yuta, I'm..." she started, shaking at the sensation engulfing her.

"I know baby." he mumbled before thrusting into her one last time that she shouted "Daddy!" while getting an orgasm. "Fuck!" the guy shouted, groaning as he jerked into her. "Say that again," he begged as he felt himself edging towards his orgasm.

"Daddy." she moaned and with one last thrust, he came inside her. (Y/N) giggled at the newfound information, he has a daddy kink.

"Do you have some kind of a daddy kink?" he asked that made her laugh, she was thinking of asking him the same thing.

"Well, you called me baby so it just clicked. Do you?" she asked as he rolled beside her.

The guy started rubbing his cock with his hand and she was surprised at how fast his little buddy recovered. "You sounded so hot shouting that."

The girl smiled. If he's ready for another round, then she's dead set on making this night as memorable as possible. "Then I want you to be rough on me daddy," she said in a low voice, holding his cock too tight that he groaned.

Yuta smirked and sat up, "On fours, baby girl." And the way he said it, with the dominance, made her so wet that she obliged almost immediately. Taking her from the back, he almost moaned when his cock sank in inside her wet pussy hole. "Fuck, you are so wet. You wanted Daddy to take you like this?"

(Y/N) had always hated the idea of a doggie position since it wasn't satisfying enough but here is Yuta proving another thing. Fuck, the way he slammed his cock on her made her moan nonstop that she concluded that it takes skills to fuck in this position. And damn it but Yuta Nakamoto is obviously at the top of this sex food chain. "What's wrong baby girl? You lost your ability to speak at how amazing daddy is fucking you?" he asked that made her scream at the dirtiness of his words. Fuck, she does feel slutty now that Yuta is like this. "Am I wrecking you, baby?"

"Yes, daddy!" she shouted as a wave of orgasm enveloped her for the second time tonight. How long is he going to make her cum like this? But she isn't complaining, she loves it when someone takes her rough, and maybe she is really becoming a masochist just like what Jungwoo would often say.

Breathing hard, he pulled out of her after he came and let her lie on the bed on her back. He started kissing her, sweat forming between their bodies. "Are you alright?" he asked and she nodded, cupping his face for a kiss. "I'm sorry for being rough though. Fuck, I didn't know that it turns me on when someone calls me daddy," he confessed while kissing her chest. He started giving her body butterfly kisses while muttering words like 'You're so beautiful.', 'You are so pretty.' 'You are so hot.' and 'You are so sexy.'

The guy smirked when his finger felt her wetness. "You are so wet again. If we continue this, we'll be fucking the whole night," he claimed but he was already jerking his cock to make it hard again and she was in awe at how fast it grows for her.

"Maybe that's what I want," she mumbled. Yuta parted her legs, his cock sinking inside her and giving her the third round of their sex marathon.

On usual occasions, (Y/N) wouldn't even stay this long in fucking but Yuta is so good that she doesn't want to miss a moment with him. His mouth was on her breasts, sucking it like a baby that made her moan non-stop. Her sound turned him on so much that he thrusts into her harder and deeper, wanting her to feel the orgasm. "Oh, God. Yuta!" she screamed as he kept slamming into her, making her see stars.

This was the third tonight and Yuta isn't thinking about slowing down. "Fuck, you are so tight," he muttered, pushing her closer to him if possible, letting his whole large cock enter her sensitive pussy. (Y/N) could almost feel his cock in her stomach, hitting some new place that no one had ever discovered yet. She is so tired because of this guy but he seemed like someone who had a really high sex drive. "Oh God, baby." he groaned just as he came inside her, filling her up.

By now, she should have hurried to the comfort room and remove all the cum in her body but she knew that she's safe now and Yuta's looks would be a blessing if she gets a child because of this. Fuck, she thought, although she is safe, what if she does get pregnant?

The guy heaved a sigh as he lay down on the bed, pulling her body close that they were hugging. Well, that's just great. After tiring her out, he's now cuddling her. He doesn't really look like a cuddler at all, she's even ready to leave since this is a one-night stand but he doesn't even let her move even an inch away from him. "Do you want something?" he asked in that low voice that made her look at him.

"Can I at least pee?" she asked but he pulled her closer to him.

"No. I want you to keep my cum just for tonight," he said in an authoritative voice that made her look at him. What the hell is this?

"Yuta, I can get pregnant," she stated, as a matter of fact, surprised that he smiled and hugged her.

"Then I'll take responsibility for you. Be my..."

But she didn't let him finish and sat up that startled him. "I have to go," she said and was about to stand up when her legs gave in, trembling at how tired she is that made her fell back down the bed while muttering a curse.

"Is it that good?" he asked then stopped when she glared at him. Yes, it was but he didn't need that much ego boost anymore. "Can't you at least stay for the night? I'll bring you to your hotel tomorrow morning, I promise," he said in a soft voice that made her look at him, contemplating the offer.

There were lots of pros and cons to staying the night. Who knows, they might end up with another round of intense sex once his cock is recharged. And not to be so slutty, but when sex is that good she'll definitely not miss on the opportunity. Yuta smiled when she decided to went back to bed, "I'm tired, I'll just leave tomorrow."  

He giggled as she turned to face him, pulling her close to feel her skin again. Yuta had serious issues with cuddling, she thought. "God, you smell so good," he mumbled as his nose was just by her breasts, his breathing tickling her skin and making her hot and bothered once again.

She laughed at what he claimed, she smelt like cum and sweat combined, then stopped when she felt something poking her leg. "Seriously, Yuta?"

The guy just chuckled then hovered above her that made her roll her eyes, the pros and cons of staying the night are actually happening right now. "You are so fucking hot." he complimented before rubbing his semi-hard cock on her wet clit, making her moan.

Damn it, her body is liking it. At this rate, he's going to fill her up with too much cum that it will definitely make her pregnant. Is this what this is? Maybe he has a breeding kink and really wanted her to get pregnant. His mouth started getting busy with her right breast as his hand was playing with the other one, rubbing the nipples that earned a sigh from her. His other hand was scattering the wetness of their mixed cum on her pussy, making it glisten with her wetness and his cum from earlier.

In a snap, his cock was inside her and thrusting at a speed that makes her moan. Her fingers found his naked back, scratching the skin. "God, you are so fucking good," he muttered, not faltering with his thrusts. This is too much, (Y/N) thought. How can one guy make her cum like this repeatedly? Yuta is indeed a sex monster.

She heaved a breathy sigh when she came, really sore and tired out of her own wits. "Yuta..." she called breathlessly and she glanced at the still hard cock that he was jerking, "I'm really tired." He laughed and kissed her lip that made her body warm once again. Oh, God.

"Then go to sleep already. I'll just soften my buddy over here," he claimed just as she tried to fight the sleepiness.

"Can I fuck you?" he asked and she smiled, obviously tired.

"Whatever. Be my guest." Yuta fucked her as her eyes drifted to sleep, not caring if he stops fucking her or make her reach orgasm again.

Yuta had discovered a lot about himself lately. First, he was easily turned on by a woman screaming his name, the same woman who made his insanity drop low when she called him daddy. Second, his cock has a really short refractory period and who would have thought that he could cum this much in one night, his stamina really is no joke. Third, how can he get turned on by a sleeping person naked in front of him? He kept on fucking her, cumming on her body then licked every drop that made him repeat his actions from earlier, fucking her. And although she's asleep, he loved how her body was reacting to him, loved how tight her pussy is and how wet she becomes at a simple touch.

He breathed heavily as if running a marathon when he came once again, his body shaking both at the height of the orgasm and the cold. Someone could die of too much sex and he felt like a murderer with the state she's in. Luckily, she's still breathing. "I'm cold..." he heard her moan in her sleep as she scooted near him. Yuta pulled the blankets up to her body and she snuggled on it while humming in delight.

God, she is beautiful and he wanted her so bad, wanted to see her face every day and every night. He smiled at the thought of falling in love with a complete stranger, a girl who he only had sex with and never really knew her name. Will they still be like this when they get back to Korea? Will he even defeat his record of sex marathon with her?

Instead of sleeping, he wanted to stare at her much longer, trying to etch her sleeping figure on his mind. What if she doesn't want the proposal he wanted to ask her? She was sure about declining him earlier and that made him nervous.

Damn it, he's Yuta Nakamoto. And not to be cocky or anything but girls want him, not him desperately wanting a girl who doesn't seem fazed by his appearance. But in the end, the tiredness loomed in stronger that he ended up sleeping, hugging her frail body and feeling her warmth in the cold night of Paris.

--

The sunlight was up when (Y/N) opened her eyes, feeling the soreness and stickiness on her body. Fuck, how long did this guy fuck her last night? How many times did he come inside her? Standing up, she can feel her legs wobble. Is that how good he is? Well, he is in fact, no question about that. But enough is enough, a one night stand is enough to discover how wild she is and Yuta in bed.

Instead of heading to the bathroom to take a bath, she decided to wear the clothes that he had given her last night which were scattered on the floor. She needs to move and leave fast before he could wake up.

Before she could even hold the doorknob, she turned to look at the guy with who she just spend the night. He looked really amazing, his white toned body lying on the bed and snoring soundly as if in a deep sleep. He must be tired as well. Well, who wouldn't? He really showed his wild side last night. She could smell sex and sweat, as well as her crinkly clothes that are evidence of being thrown on the floor that the people were looking at her when she left the hotel. She looked like a hooker who just came back from intense sexual activity.

When she reached her hotel, she started showering in warm water and that's when the marks on her skin started appearing. She looked like a bruised person who just came from a gang fight because of the redness of her skin. Trying to rub it off, she recalled the night with Yuta, making her unconsciously touch her wet core.

Fuck, just thinking about how he thrusts into her had made her horny. All-day, she can't stop thinking about him and the things that he did and can do to her. What if she accepts to be his girlfriend? Maybe this will be an everyday scenario for her. Can she live like that? Maybe not. So it might really be a good decision to decline his offer.

She stayed in the hotel the whole day, sleeping then ordering food from the nearby restaurant. (Y/N) doesn't really want to go out now since her body is really sore and all. A day in Paris wasted just because of last night but she didn't regret it as she started updating her manga with Yuta in mind. Fuck that Japanese guy for invading her mind like this. She wanted to see him again, to thank him properly but it can lead to other things especially with the state she's in.

All in all, she didn't get to enjoy her free time in Paris. First, the weather is shitty that she can't have the freedom to walk the streets of Paris which was her goal. Secondly, a certain Japanese guy took all her time and energy. But she doesn't hate it, wanting to meet him again in fact and that's why she was silently praying as she waited for her seatmate in the airplane. When a girl, probably younger than her, sat beside her, she lost all hopes. Will she ever see him again? But knowing his line of work, it's not possible to have their roads cross again. Maybe, this really is a one-time Parisian romance. And she's happy that she felt it like this.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️

Chapter 5 / Chapter 7