#(i'm guessing because of how messy yesterday was)
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prael · 27 days ago
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An Oral Agreement
QWER Magenta x male reader
Masterlist word count: 3,008 Kofi(donations/commissions)
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She's equal parts infuriating and fascinating.
Magenta.
No last name. Or maybe that is her last name. Either way, that's all it said on the rental agreement and her bedroom door when you first moved in: Magenta. The letters were all lowercase like she was too cool for proper grammar. You know Magenta, in the Biblical sense (and it didn’t take long).
She's always in her room streaming or recording or...doing whatever it is social media influencers do when they aren't online. But she likes candles, fried rice and catcore aesthetics. She thinks pumpkin spice season starts September 1st and she loves reality TV. Not exactly the makings of a deep and spiritual connection.
Now, living with Magenta, well, it has its ups and downs.
There are some things that never get done around here without you doing them; she rarely cooks, which wouldn't bother you so much if she at least did dishes once in a while. It doesn't help that she takes long hot showers. In a house with only one bathroom, this can really put a cramp in your morning routine.
Magenta doesn't clean the place very often either. At first, you just let it go because everybody has their own ways of doing things, right? But after a few weeks of living together, you realised that she's just...not going to do it. Like ever. So then there's nothing for it but to either live in a constant state of messiness or bite the bullet yourself.
Sometimes you feel like you're not living with a roommate so much as providing lodging for some kind of freeloading spirit that passes through periodically.
When you first moved in, you were worried about what your roommate might think of you: would they be weirded out by your habits? Would they judge your taste in decorations? Would you get along? Would you have enough space for both of you?
Those fears melted away pretty quickly once you met her. You could tell from the moment she opened the door that day (and didn't even look up from her phone) that she didn’t care.
You soon learned that Magenta is messy but friendly. She stays up all night and sleeps during the day. She's everywhere online: Instagrammer, Tiktokker (is that what they call it?), live streamer or these days she’s even on the radio and TV. She doing something for one of those things right now, with her bedroom door closed and music playing faintly behind it.
You're standing in the kitchen, staring down her latest infringement. Now, these empty take-out boxes were here this morning when you left. They were also here last night, and yesterday afternoon, and...you get where this is going.
"Hey, you awake in there?!" you shout towards her bedroom but get no response.
With a sigh, you walk over to her door and knock. Twice. Then again, louder when you still get no response. Finally, you resort to pounding on it repeatedly until it suddenly swings open to reveal your roommate shouting, "What!?" You step back, slightly taken aback by how loudly she said that single word. Her eyes soften instantly, though when they land on you.
She looks good. Not even just in a 'good for someone who hasn't slept yet today' kind of way. Just straight-up hot. Magenta wears a faded pink crop top emblazoned with an anime character and little cut-off cotton shorts covered in cookie prints. The low waistband of the shorts hangs off her hips, exposing the start of a light purple thong that cuts diagonally across her hip bones.
"I think our apartment might get condemned if you don't clean sometime soon."
Your roommate leans against the door frame. She pushes some dark brown hair behind her ear as she says, "Can't you do it for me? Just this once?"
"Just this once?" you repeat, crossing your arms. Your lips curl into a smile as you ask back to her, "Can't you do it just this once?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm always reminding you to clean, and you never do it. So guess who does it? It's not the magical cleaning fairy—it's me."
Her eyes roll skyward so forcefully you imagine you can hear them squeaking in their sockets.
"Why are you giving me such a hard time about this?" she says. "This seems really petty."
"It's not petty," you protest. "I have stuff to do and I shouldn't have to keep picking up after my adult roommate." You say the word 'adult' laden with implications. She gets your meaning immediately. Her lips twist.
"oh, I get it," she says with a smirk. "I guess it's been a while since I gave you a little thank you. Well, I need to get this video finished, so could you maybe clean it up and come back here after?"
So there's the perks. Two of them actually, as she pulls up her pink crop top and flashes you what's beneath. A pair of purple lace bra cups strain to contain your roommate's ample endowment. Pale skin pours out from beneath them, flesh squeezing together into a deep cleavage that entices you closer even as you shake your head.
"You can't keep pulling tricks like this, Magenta," you say, trying desperately to hold onto your train of thought while also enjoying the view. It helps that you know those breasts intimately. Hell, you've worshipped those breasts. They've spilt around your hands, smothered your face and laid upon your thighs. You know what the soft warmth inside each cup feels like. And, God, they feel really fucking good.
"I really appreciate your help and everything," she says, her bottom lip suddenly pushing out into a cute pout that goes well beyond suggestive. "And I'd like to show you just how much I appreciate it..."
Your resolve lasts right up until Magenta runs a finger down one of her tits to tease along the edge of the lacy purple material. That's when you give up. There's no point in fighting anymore—she has won this battle (just like all others).
"Just go finish your work already," you finally say, letting out a sigh.
Magenta smiles and giggles, lowering her shirt. "Thanks. Love ya!"
With a wink, she slips back into her room. You stand alone for several seconds before shaking your head. Back to cleaning, then.
-
It's not exactly easy to focus on sorting the recycling into the correct bins when your roommate has just reminded you how nice her tits are. They're on your mind a lot, to be honest. More than they should be probably. Sometimes they're on your cock, though not as often as they should be. Probably.
You're counting your blessings that none of the neighbours are doing late-night recycling because then you'd have to explain why your face is red and your pants are bulging.
That doesn't stop the occasional glance towards your neighbour's house, where Mrs Kim likes to smoke on her front porch some nights. You think she smokes more than she should, but that's really none of your business. Her watching you from across the street, however, is very much your business, so you peek over your shoulder once in a while to check if she's spying. Again. Or still. Whatever.
One last box. The light outside is fading rapidly, but you can just barely make out that it comes from...the Greek place you love?
Oh. Oh no. Did she eat gyros and not bring you any? Damn, that girl knows how to be cruel!
When the recycling is finally squared away you dust off your hands. It's a symbolic gesture since all you've done is shove cardboard and glass into the right bins, but it makes you feel accomplished nonetheless.
Back in the apartment and lock the door behind you.
"There you are. Where have you been?"
"The bins, have you ever seen them before?" You mock while still fiddling with the lock chain.
"That was quick," comes her response. Your eyes follow the sound of her voice. Magenta is lying upside-down on the couch. She swings her feet lazily in the air while looking at something on her phone. Her dark hair cascades nearly to the floor. Those short shorts mean you can see most of her long legs. Then there's the curve of her hip, the crease of her thigh... "Get over here."
It's a rare occasion that Magenta voluntarily puts her phone down, yet she does just that as you walk over. The closer you get, the more enticing her position becomes: laying across the couch, head tipped backwards off the cushions to watch you approach her.
"So," she says. Her fingertips brush over the exposed skin of her belly. The fingers trace lines up and across her abdomen, moving between the edge of her shorts and her top. The motion catches your eye—and she knows it. "I owe you, don't I?" Her eyelids flutter innocently. Or rather, far less than innocently.
"For today? Yeah. Definitely." You clear your throat and try again, "For quite a few days, actually."
"Quite a few," she echoes in agreement. Her hand continues to crawl upward until it reaches the peak of her breasts rising beneath her faded pink crop top. The movement presses the supple skin together in a way that has you standing right in front of her before you even realize you've walked over.
She pushes them hard together before letting them settle back to normal. Gravity spreads them apart, flesh pouring across her chest from the tightly gathered fabric keeping them barely contained. She reaches out over her head, to you, and grabs you by the belt buckle. Pulls you forward until you are stood over her. Even though she's upside down, she makes such effortless work of unbuckling the leather strap that you barely notice. One second it's on; the next it's flapping loose.
It takes only two sharp tugs to force your pants and boxers down past your knees. Magenta doesn't waste any time reaching out to touch your cock, gently running her hands over it until she can wrap her entire hand around the warm shaft and pull you until you fall to your knees. Her head hangs right in front your your length, and you see the teasing sparkle in her eye even upside down.
Her hot breath hits the skin of your bare cock. Lips press a series of soft, wet kisses down from your tip towards your balls. Then back up again, trailing even more tiny pecks that leave your skin tingling. You let your cock nudge against her cheek, feeling it slide along the smooth skin.
With both hands wrapped around your cock, Magenta holds your tip right in front of her mouth. Her tongue sticks out from between her lips, slowly, methodically lapping circles around the crown of your cock.
"Oh, God," you mutter, and you need to hold onto something, anything. First, it's the couch, then it's her tits.
Your hand lands heavily atop the nearest swell of flesh and squeezes tight, pushing it further out of her crop top. She hums approvingly at the groping and wraps her lips around your cockhead. Suckles sweetly. Slurps noisily until spit pools at the corner of her stretched lips.
She lets gravity help guide your cock into her waiting mouth. The further you slip inside, the more she relaxes her jaw to accept you. But then she reaches up and pulls on your hips. You glide up against her grateful tongue. Until her nose meets your stomach. She gags. It's so fucking lewd.
The whole thing makes you squeeze her chest harder. So big in your palm and yet somehow always bigger than you remember. You forget sometimes just how incredible these tits are. When they bounce in a video she's recorded, you remember—but never quite how heavy they are when you hold them; the way they give to your grasp in exactly the right amount; or the way her nipple puckers just slightly as it stiffens beneath your kneading grip.
"You're so sexy like this," you say.
The compliment elicits an appreciative groan from Magenta. Her head moves with your hips now, bobbing to meet each thrust, spit dripping down her cheeks. The messiness of the sloppy blowjob matches her other personality traits frighteningly well.
With her head pinned and her arms on you, you're free to pull up her shirt and expose her. The dirty minx has taken off her bra, so the expanse of her milky skin greets you. You cup them in each palm, feeling the heft of them, squeezing them greedily. They push back, moulding into the shape of your desire, and she moans, a low guttural note vibrating right through your length.
Her body writhes beneath your attention. Her thighs spread outwards, feet rolling at the ankle in time with each gently guided thrust into her throat. Fingers squeeze you, scratching lightly at the skin above your ass to encourage you deeper inside her hungry maw. Deeper into her throat until she chokes—
You let up, panting, admiring the sight of her stretched out for your viewing pleasure. Her eyes flutter open, looking up at you from her upside-down position. The intensity in them draws you in again.
"Oh shit," you groan as you drive into her, plunging your cock balls deep until her purple-painted nails dig into the small of your back. You pump faster, lost in the warm embrace of her greedy sucking.
Magenta squirms beneath you, whining and groaning and bucking, begging you for more. Her cunt must be throbbing with anticipation. Poor thing wants your cum. You can tell.
You want her tits.
She gasps when you fully withdraw from her mouth. Her face is a fucking mess of saliva and smudged makeup. Before she can question you, you reposition yourself in front of her, straddling her beautiful face as you lower your rigid length between her breasts.
She's quick to pick up what you're putting down. With both hands pressing the creamy flesh of her boobs inward, she creates a tunnel for you to slide your dick into.
It feels as good as it looks. Soft pressure envelops your slick length, wrapping around the sensitive skin and creating a delightful sleeve for you to hump into. You can't get enough.
As soon as you hit a good pace, fucking your roommate's chest hard and fast, she starts giggling.
"What?" you ask.
"It tickles." Her laugh is breathy but not as loud as it usually is. "Keep going."
So you do. Thrust after thrust you plunge deeper, drawing more and more of yourself into the valley between her perfect tits. The more you use her, the further she parts her legs that run up the back of the sofa. Soft thighs splayed for nothing but display. Then, just as you start to admire them, she clenches them together. Your eyes trace down the pale skin until they arrive at her crotch where the bottoms of her cookie-patterned shorts have ridden up against her wet slit. She's gyrating her hips in all sorts of directions and rubbing herself against the material in some attempt to satiate her growing needs.
The soft flesh of her midriff jiggles between the thrusting into her tits and the twisting of her hips below. You can't stop staring. Fuck. How does this girl have every single curve?
At first, you try holding back—you want this to last longer. But after a few seconds, you realize you can't fight this feeling. Not when you've got such a good view. And certainly not with her nipples so hard under the press of your thumbs. She arches up when you pinch them, and you know you're done for.
And then, as if she can feel it by the way you're thrusting, she begins to coo and beg under you. She knows she's getting you close, and she wants it. Bad.
"Cum on me," she coaxes sweetly, the words barely audible over the slapping sounds. "I've been so bad, baby. You deserve to paint my body."
That's all it takes. That final little plea. Your eyes roll back, your hips snap forward and your cock explodes. Thick ropes over her body, the first reaching her thighs before you adjust your aim and finish across the plane of her belly. Soft curves take your load while she encourages you through soft, little pleasured mewls. You may have got some on her shorts, but you paint her stomach white before pulling up and jerking the final drops onto her chest.
"Mmmm, messy boy," Magenta laughs breathlessly as your cum drips down her curves. She lays there beneath you, her smile wide and wickedly innocent, one hand slowly running circles over the sticky mess on her tummy, smearing it across her skin.
After a few seconds of panting and trying to gather yourself, you climb off of her and sit back against the couch. She turns so her head rests in your lap, facing your spent and dripping length. Magenta teases you still by using her own fingertip to collect your seed and place it across her lips, then licking them clean while making sure you're watching. And fuck are you ever.
"So, about my room," she purrs, eyes twinkling mischievously up at you.
"What about it?"
"Well... It needs cleaning, and I was thinking—"
"No," you feign protest, knowing you've already agreed. "Just clean it yourself." Her negotiation will come next. You can see it on her lips. "I'm not doing it."
Magenta leans up and whispers, "But you might change your mind if you find out what's waiting for you beneath my shorts."
That damn purple thong, still visible at her waistband, calls you toward her like a beacon. "What's beneath your shorts?"
Her laugh is playful. A little shrug as her fingers toy at the hem of the garment in question. "Agree to clean my room and you’ll find out."
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dubina-dawkins · 1 month ago
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FORD MUSTANG '66 BACK SEAT
~2k words (i got carried away :p)
pairing: teen! dean winchester x teen!virgin! reader
> your uncle got you a perfect 18th birthday gift - white ford mustang '66, and dean is in awe. not only because of the car, but because of the birthday girl too
warnings/notes: smut, minors dni! f! masturbation mentioned, loss of virginity, fingering, p in v, unprotected (done by professionals don't try at home), softdom! dean, afab! reader, really fluffy and gentle, lots of kisses i mean how do they still breath, may be kind of continuation (but not a direct one but after some time yk) of my previous work with teen! dean and teen! reader, reader is hunter btw but this is mentioned less, no usage of y/n
REPOSTS WILL BE APPRECIATED
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"Are you kidding...he gave you that baby girl? Damn it, your uncle has taste!" Dean laughs, approaching the vintage car from the bumper, palms wide on the cold metal. He stares out the windshield, then walks around the car in a circle before turning back to you, one arm around your shoulders.
Your birthday was literally, like, a week ago? But since your uncle was busy, he didn't get you a present until yesterday. And today Dean was here on your call. Secretly from dad, of course. Sam's at school somewhere, so there's no need to keep an eye on the kid, so, uh...
"Uh-huh. A useful gift for hunters, huh? Especially since uncle let me hunt alone or with you now... Cool stuff. And even though I'm a bit of a machine builder 'cause I'm always helping him, I think I'm gonna need some help, you know..." You start, turning so that your fingers slip into his messy hair, and Dean laughs.
"If you want me to drive this hottie until you get your driver's license-"
"Bingo!"
Dean laughs, his hands finding a place on your ribs as he pulls you into a tender kiss. The touch of his lips on yours was always too gentle, and it was infuriating sometimes. Knowing Dean, he could have done so much more. Just cared, I guess?
You kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. Knowing Dean freakin' Winchester, it was easy to see that he loved you very much. Well, loved you as much as he could. Sometimes it was a fight, but not a big one - hell, you're only 18, what the hell is there to fight about?
Especially since you now had official permission for alone time - soon you'd be hunting together, which meant lots of adventure, blood, sweat, and lives saved. Sometimes that last point was purely functional, and yet. Just you and him.
You couldn't call yourself an innocent Christian girl. You hated the church, God and angels with all your soul after all you had seen and gone through. They're in, they're out, it doesn't make much difference. So sinning didn't seem like a bad idea. Especially when you're just getting back from a walk with Dean in the night, when he's running away from home in his father's car - let's just say he wasn't promised his own car until he was 21 - and the feeling of his hands on your cheeks, ribs, waist and hips still hangs in space...
Then your fingers traveled south, stroking first the lower abdomen, then the labia, then the wet passage, and finally up to the clit.... you could've sworn your panties hadn't been dry after any encounter with your boyfriend. Dean's wink or a glance at your neck, your waist, and you'd be drowning. God, why's he so pretty all the time?
"Okay, now..." Dean pulls back and walks around the car to open the door and land in the driver's seat. His eyes glisten, and you can tell he's enjoying this immensely. Somewhere along the lines of his favorite movies and listening to Led Zeppelin.
His strong palms grip the steering wheel, and he leans back to keep it at arm's length. And Dean laughs again, stroking the leather of the steering wheel with his thumbs. "Pretty one, that's for sure..."
You land in the backseat, and he turns to you, raising an eyebrow. Without even hearing his question, you smile and fold your hands in your lap.
"I can't get used to the fact that it's all, like, mine. And I'm kind of scared to sit in the front. I guess it'll pass with time." You don't have time to finish the sentence when he gets out of the car, and a few moments later he's standing in front of the open backseat door.
"Then I should join you," he laughs, jumping to you, putting his hand on your lower back. You shriek and laugh, pressing your lips against his. The kiss is long, sensual, and at some point Dean's hands move down to your thighs, spreading them wide, and he pushes you back against the seats, towering over you. When he pulled away from the kiss, you looked up at him wide-eyed, doubt flickering across his face instead of a smirk.
"Uh...I hope you've-...you've already had someone, right...?" he gently takes you by the hips, wrapping your legs around his waist, and you only blush.
"Well...no?"
Dean closes his eyes for a moment and frowns, stroking your thighs with his thumbs, the same tenderness he used to stroke the steering wheel of your Mustang. Yeah, well, considering you were a hunter too, you didn't have much of a chance for a relationship...
"Ah, so...I get to be first? Woah..." he'd be lying if he said it didn't excite him even more, but it scared him too. However, he smiles and bends towards you, not allowing you to give an answer, his lips pressed against yours again. He places one hand on your chin, gently, two fingers opening your mouth for his tongue as his other hand creeps down to your stomach, stroking it.
"God, you're so- aah, fuck..." Dean sinks down between your legs, unzipping the fly of your jeans and pulling them down your legs. When his teeth snag the elastic of your panties, you whimper, putting your hand on his head, and he laughs. "Shh, not yet."
He looks at your glistening, wet folds, and God, it means everything. Dean licks his fingers - though it wasn't necessary at all, you were fucking soaked - and gently presses his thumb against your clit. When that elicits a soft moan of his name from you, he chuckles.
"Are you okay, baby?" He whispers, kissing your stomach, and gently pulls up your t-shirt. He kisses your collarbones while his free hand works on the clasp of your bra.
But God, you're too good to respond with anything but a whimper. You take off your shirt, and he pulls off your bra, and for a moment he just stops, staring at you. A low growl escapes Dean's lips. "You're so beautiful for me, baby..."
He brings his hand back to your pussy, gently stroking the space next to your passage, and your already tight walls tighten around nothing. He whimpers at the mere sight, pressing his lips to your nipples. Every sensation is new, every touch sending shocks of pleasure through your entire body. You put your arms around his neck, one hand creeping up to his disheveled hair, the other reaching down to his back.
Dean throws off his leather jacket and flannel, leaving only a T-shirt, and the cold material of his amulet burns your skin as he leans in again to leave kisses on your skin. "It might hurt now. Tell me if you need me to stop..." But you both know that neither you nor he wants to stop it.
Dean rises to capture your lips again in a kiss, and his middle finger slides into your channel, and you let out a loud sob at the sensation. His fingers are different, feel completely unfamiliar. And it's too exciting, especially when he gently pushes his finger deeper, and your core squelches so lewdly that you blush.
"De...feels so good," you whimper, hugging his shoulders, your hands in fists clutching the fabric of his t-shirt. "I'm trying, love," he laughs against your lips, his finger stroking your walls in a circular motion, and you grind against his hand - at which point Dean presses his hand to your stomach and begins to move his own finger inside, discreetly adding his ring finger as well.
You arch your back, and he kisses your cheek. "So good, you're so good, baby. So good at taking me like a good girl," your walls clench around his fingers at his praise, and Dean groans at the sensation - the bump on his jeans getting noticeably harder as he muffles both his and your moans with a kiss.
You feel bratty, pulling your hands to his belt, and Dean growls against your lips. "Can you handle this? I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart," he pulls his own jeans down, tossing them off his legs somewhere on the back of the driver's seat, followed by his T-shirt. Your fingers stroll phantomly over his waist and hip bones as he slides his fingers out of you with a squelch of your walls, and you whimper unhappily.
"Please, Dean-"
"Shh, shh, shh..." He strokes your cheek, bending down to kiss your swollen lips again, and his free hand guides your palms to the waistband of his boxers, and you obediently pull that down, letting him away from the kiss. Your eyes widen as you stare at his erection, and Dean chuckles shyly.
"Whoa..." you lick your lips, and purely out of interest, you touch your fingers to the tip. His shaft throbbed, and Dean let out a high-pitched whimper as his precum began to glisten under your finger.
"Baby, let's not make any more comments," he picks up your hand, intertwining your fingers, and gently positions himself between your thighs. Dean can't resist the opportunity to rub me against your swollen clit, and you synchronously make almost identical sounds - something between a high-pitched moan and a sob.
"...Are you sure?"
"Dean, shut up and get to work."
He laughs, leaning down to your face again. "That's my girl."
And he pushes into you in one, slow thrust, inch by inch, swallowing your moans of pain and pleasure in another kiss. God, a little more, and your lips would have turned blue.
He pulls away from your lips, arching his back, and catches your hands in his, intertwining your fingers again. Dean hisses, squeezing your hands. "So fucking tight...just for me, huh...?"
He doesn't just fill you up - his hardness overwhelms you, and you feel complete for the first time in your life. Your fingers grip his hands as if your whole life depends on it. "F-fuck, it's so huge-"
"Believe it or not, you're the first person to tell me that," he leans to you again, kissing your cheek as his hips move and he begins his slow pace. His thrusts may be measured but they're precise, each time his tip taps harder on that most sensitive point inside you, and it seems there are more stars in front of your eyes than there are in the night sky.
"You're doing well, baby...So tight, so wet, so pliable, just, just for me..." He whispers into your ear as his thrusts become less controlled, more needy. Your walls quiver and his length throb more and more inside-you're both close, and that knowledge drives you insane.
"D- yaaah, Dean, I'm close-" He doesn't answer anything, just presses his lips against you again and roughly penetrates your mouth with his tongue, his palms gripping your waist hard enough to bruise it, but one hand does drop down between your bodies to caress your swollen clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
And this is it, you cry out his name, your walls tighten around his cock, and he hisses, with a loud pop of your bodies releasing his length from your heat.
But you don't let him out that easily.
"My turn," you grin weakly, your hand taking his erection in your fist, giving it a few quick strokes, and he fucks your fist like he's in heat, nuzzling his face against your neck, making a moan so pathetic it's even cute.
"I love you so much...Baby, baby, sweetheart, fuck-" He whispers frantically, and with one final thrust, shots of his seed crash into your palm, your side, and the leather of the seats. Dean wraps his arms around your shoulders tightly, pulling you close, his face finding its place in your hair as he exhales hoarsely. "So fucking much..." he says, breathing heavily, his voice muffled by your locks.
There were tissues in the glove compartment, right?
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a/n: still love my baby. still a tooth rotting fluff. your honor I'm sorry!! was working on reqs but i just thought of this idea and couldn't get it out of my head so that's it.......
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atxxzist · 1 month ago
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sweetest lies | c.s (final)
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prev // series m.list
pairing: choi san x f!reader
word count: 13k
warning: smut that i'm not proud of
a/n: it's finally here! only took like 10 years. apology if i missed anyone on the taglist, it's been forever
you know you're probably wrong. but even if you are, you don't wanna hear about it.
don't wanna hear about all the mistakes and choices you're making on a whim because you've already had enough of today.
you wish you were surprised when san is the first thing you see upon exiting your work building. at this point, it's really just irritating how predictable he is.
he showed up, of course he did. all the purposely missed calls and ignored texts practically an invitation--a mistake on your part.
hands in his pockets and a sullen expression on his face as if you've done him wrong, the beating of your heart louder the closer you are to him, whether you'd like to admit it or not.
he looks tired, even if it's evening and the sun is already faltering from the sky; adorned in his messy unbrushed hair and sweatsuit staring at you with eyes a mix of everything from annoyance, sadness, to anger--all of which you don't wanna deal with right now, if ever.
you suck in your breath and stop in front of him, thinking it's way too cliche if you just walk past him only to be pulled back by the grip on your wrist. so you let him talk.
though it feels like the longest stare-off before he speaks up, after finally picking up the hint that if he isn't gonna, you two might as well stand in unpleasant silence.
"what happened?" is all san says, because he honestly can't even begin to think of what to ask first.
why did you ignore all of his calls and texts yesterday? why are you standing before him now, looking the most pissed off he's seen you in a while when you also just sounded the happiest you've ever been in a while?
but most importantly, how did you all of sudden come to make up your mind so fast about the move? he swears, he was so sure just a day ago you were gonna stay. everything from your actions to body language, even if there were hiccups.
even if there were doubts in the smallest things you did or said at times that had him questioning the possibility for a second... he was still willing to bet you'd eventually end up staying.
"nothing happened. i made up my mind. that's it," you tell him, refusing to meet his eyes while doing so, because if you did, it's almost like you knew he's gonna be able to see through the lies.
either way, he sees through it. some of it, at least. standing unmoved in his spot and trying to make sense of everything.
"i just don't understand," he says defeatedly, probably one of the most vulnerable he's ever sounded. "i was really sure you were gonna stay."
and you'd lie if the way he said it doesn't make your heart pinch with guilt a little, inhaling another deep breath and hurling out words deprived of any empathy, "well you thought wrong."
you can tell he's taken aback by your response; the cold shoulder something he can take, but not when it's also met with harsh words he feels he's undeserving of.
"so that's it?" he says, shrugging with thinning patience and a tone no longer friendly and concerned. "you're just gonna leave?"
after everything. after he's tried so hard to change your mind, and after he was so sure he did.
"i guess so..." you mumble, looking to the ground, ashamed but also too prideful to back down now.
an almost never-ending silence sits between you and san until both of your heads shoot to the opening of the door to your workplace, one of your coworkers making a quick appearance before heading to their car.
san clears his throat.
"can i ask why, at least?"
the question brings an even bigger knot to your throat, because how do you even tell him the real reason at this point and not wanna run away after; losing all of your pride and dignity in front of the very boy you spent most of your life despising.
the same boy, who, you realized maybe you didn't hate so much and that you might even hold some more complex feelings for.
"because," you say, trying your best to sound convincing through all the lies you're about to spew, "i-i just think it's for the best."
it's then that san seems no longer angry or in disbelief, his face turning a softer expression that speaks as if he's come to an understanding, really taking your words for it.
"i see..." he says under his breath, staring down at the ground before looking you in the eyes one last time. "if you're sure that's what you really want, then i hope it works out."
your chest constricts just at the scene replaying in your head again; the defeated look on san's face and the eerie, guilt-stricken sensation you felt in the moment all coming back the same as before.
you down another sip of the drink in your hand, repeating the action every time the thought comes back, losing count on both the number of drinks you're on and the time.
occasionally, the irritating music from the shoddy bar does a good job of distracting you when the drinks isn't enough to overpower the mere thought that you're about to make one of the biggest mistakes of your life.
the bar is nearly empty, like if there weren't music playing, you'd be able to hear a pin drop. but you're thankful for the lack of pestering from guys twice your age due to it, given you're in no mood for confrontations.
it's only peaceful for a moment longer when the front door comes bursting and in arrives what seems like a rather large group of people, the chitters drawing yours and everyone else's attentions.
you groan irritatingly and finish the rest of your drink, considering this as the sign to go home for the night as you ring up the bartender for payment.
grabbing your purse and getting off the stool, you don't make it far past the group of newcomers before a familiar voice calls to you.
"y/n?" you hear him through the now hushed music, turning to your side and meeting his wide but calm eyes.
"hongjoong?" you squeak, swallowing the knot.
it takes him only one glance over to conclude you're a mess, and especially in a place he knows you go to in order to relieve whatever stress and misery you're going through.
"what brings you here?" he asks calmly.
"i should be asking you that," you return, gaze scanning the surrounding and people that has turned such a snoozefest place into a rowdy one.
"had a small but successful showing with the band i'm in, so we wanted to celebrate and invited a couple of our close friends," he answers, much to a silence from you, prompting him to ask, "and you?"
"i wanted to grab a drink," you say, trying your best to sound casual but it's like he saw the buffering in your head when you tried coming up with an excuse.
he raises a brow, his response takes you aback. "you wanna talk about it?"
if you had heard such a thing a couple months ago, you would've scoffed and told him to leave you the hell alone. but currently, you're aware you don't have a lot of choices.
it's either you get some company, or rot in your room for the rest of the night. and maybe hongjoong's in a certainly good mood from the previous event that he's willing to hear you out, because despite the unresolved differences between the two of you, he has always been a good listener.
someone you used to come to all the time when you had problems.
after you say yes (with some hesitation and shame), hongjoong excuses himself, making sure to let some of the people he came with know regarding his whereabouts for the next few minutes.
you both occupy a booth in the far corner overlooking the crowd. hongjoong gets water for you and him because he said he doesn't wanna get buzzed just yet, and that you've had enough for the night.
"been a while, hasn't it?" he speaks, the sight of you across from him in some sketchy bar making him nostalgic.
you both used to do it all the time together; frequenting bars and getting drunk off your asses, seonghwa would have to come pick you guys up.
it's been about three years since the last time.
"yeah," you reply, voice low, because the realization hits you that it has been that long.
it doesn't only make you as nostalgic as him, but also downright depressed because while hongjoong has grown within these past years, truly following his passion and making newer, better friends, you're still in the exact same position you were from before. heck, it's even worse now.
"what's with the long face?" he breaks you out of the thought. "rough day?"
you sigh, mumbling, "pretty much." though you wouldn't even have to answer for him to know. he just does, able to read you like an open book.
he nods understandably and lingers on words he's been wanting to say, eventually giving in.
"hey, look, about yunho's celebration party... i'm sorry if i was a dick."
“fancy seeing you here,” a voice from behind makes you snap around, finding hongjoong with a cup in his hand and something amusing in his eyes.
“thought you got too good for this kind of setting.”
the roll of your eyes is apparent, and you don’t bother to hide it.
“i’m not here to get high or whatever, i’m here for yunho.”
“of course you are,” he snides, the tone and attitude all the evidence that you’re just wasting time talking to him, and that even after all these years, hongjoong still holds a little grudge for you.
"i was just... angry and upset at the sudden sight of you after having not seen you for a while and it all came out without much thoughts."
you shake your head, unfazed from the reminder of your encounter with hongjoong at the celebration party.
"no. i understand. not like i was any nicer that day anyway."
another silence ensues, but you know it's because there's so much to say, hongjoong might not know where you begin. you don't even know where to begin.
"i ran into seonghwa a while ago," you start again, following with a chuckle when you add, "i don't know what it is that i keep running into you two."
hongjoong chuckles along.
"maybe faith wants us back together, i don't know," he jokes, but your laughter fades slowly, turning into something of a light smile.
"i do miss being with you guys," you say, locking eyes with him that speaks more than words can.
not just the parties and crazy memories, but the smaller, meaningful moments--listening to the new track hongjoong just produced as you try not to doze off, being forced to help seonghwa build the lego set he just got, and even just doing homeworks and assignments together although you were failing most of your classes.
it was them who tried to get you back on your feet, and them who tried to uplift you when you were at your lowest.
thinking of it, they might've been there for you more than yunho ever has, because after starting college, almost every instances where you were crying or is a mess, either hongjoong or seonghwa, or both, were by your side.
"i miss it, too," hongjoong says. "we're still great friends, of course, but it's not quite the same without you."
because while you had your shortcomings (most of them related to yunho), you were a great friend nonetheless.
you shared the same sense of humor and you just get him, even in ways seonghwa couldn't; the two of you able to go on for hours just debating and talking about stupid shit.
you were also quite tough in your own ways and never allowed anyone to look down on your friends--not seonghwa's nerdy hobbies, nor hongjoong's occasional shitty tracks.
you can't help the wider smile that breaks out from his comment. hongjoong don't know how much you needed to hear just one thing positive tonight, or maybe he does.
"i'm glad you still ache for my presence," you say lightheartedly, bringing out a chuckle from hongjoong.
"don't flatter yourself."
you laugh the comment off, taking a light sip of water and darting your eyes across the room to the group that came with hongjoong.
"looks like you've been doing well for yourself."
hongjoong nods. "i'd say i'm not doing so bad. and you? what have you been up to?"
it's then that the smile on your face falls, hongjoong taking a notice to it right away.
"you look down tonight, and considering you're here, i can only assume you haven't been having the greatest of time. you know you can always tell me anything, but if you're not ready, i also understand," he says carefully and empathetically, the way he always would when he sensed you were upset.
you take a deep breath because though you haven't properly spoken to him in years, you know hongjoong to be the type to carry a secret to his grave.
"it's just..." you begin, "everything's going to shit lately." obviously.
hongjoong doesn't say anything and lets you carry on respectfully, knowing he's unleashed just about everything you've kept to yourself that's been dying to get out.
"you and seonghwa were right. maybe yunho does love me, but he wasn't in love with me. him and minjeong are together now, and i caught them the night of his celebration party. my parents and his are already talking about an engagement dinner and i don't fucking know," you ramble, watching hongjoong's eyes widen at the revelation.
"woah," is all he can say.
"yeah, i know it's a lot to take in and i'm just starting."
"not to be that person that's a know-it-all, but i kind of felt something was going on between them, too. like there was always a weird ass vibe whenever they were together."
"wow," you say, puzzled. "i guess it must've just been me who was a dumbass and didn't see the signs."
"to be fair, you were pretty full of yourself so it doesn't come as a surprise," he takes a jab, knowing you won't take it to the heart.
you just roll your eyes at the remark, but before you can continue the retelling of your unfortunes, he gets to it first.
"but that's not why you're here tonight, currently drowning in misery?"
you go tight-lipped at that, eventually caving.
"it's not."
this time, he leans in and rest both his hands on the table, never breaking eye contact with you and only making you more nervous about the confession that's to come.
what would he think?
through most of the times that you've known him and seonghwa, you practically spent it denying ever developing any sort of romantic feelings for san, even when they teased you relentlessly about it.
so how would he feel when you tell him that same boy is also the current cause of the misery you're going through?
"tell me about it," he urges in a calm and friendly manner that still makes you have to swallow down the tension in your throat.
"what happened with yunho was a couple months ago," you say, "it was hard. of course it was. but it would've been even worse... if not for san." you almost whisper his name.
"he really helped me during the time. it honestly was nice to be able to talk to just anyone about it." because you're sure hongjoong can already deduce the fact you don't have anyone else besides yunho.
"and it was nice," you continue, " until it wasn't."
"and why is that?" hongjoong asks, his tone slightly teasing though you miss it completely, too immersed in the retelling.
"because..." you linger, biting your bottom lip and no longer able to look hongjoong in the eyes.
"because you've developed feelings for him?" he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, immediately pulling back your gaze as you can only stare dumbfoundedly.
"it's okay. nothing to be ashamed of." he chuckles, making your brows pinch together. "can't say i'm surprised. did think it was only a matter of time."
"wasn't like i planned to," you say, slightly annoyed, because you have no idea what he meant by his last comment.
hongjoong shrugs. "lots of things in life won't go the way we always plan. you know now."
"but only a matter of time for what? for when i'll like him? i never even considered it until some times ago."
"no. i know that. i meant it was only a matter of time till you returned the sentiment considering he's been hung up on you for so long."
you're now even more confused than you were, answering him swiftly, "hung up? as in he likes me?" the response causing the loudest chuckle of the night to erupt from hongjoong, even if he knows he shouldn't be laughing.
you have such a warped view of love, having it ever being in the form of idealizing yunho, he's also not surprise you have no idea that the reason san follows and pesters you all the time isn't because he's doing it to be annoying and make your life harder but because it might've been the only form to get your attention, and he wants it because he likes you--romantically.
hongjoong caught onto that as early as his second encounter with san.
you have wanted to grab a quick snack and drink before your class in an hour and invited hongjoong along, the both of you caught up in a conversation and forgetting about why you even came in the first place, when a tap on the table makes you forget what you were gonna tell him.
"hi," san greets, glaring down at you and smiling even if you're already exasperating just at the sight of him.
hongjoong met a lot of people at the last party, a few he's already forgotten, but he remembers san fondly mainly because he couldn't keep his eyes off of you all night (and cause you went off on a tangent about him not leaving you alone).
wherever he, you, and seonghwa were going, he found the boy following; if not physically, then always with a watchful gaze.
"i saw you didn't get anything to drink so i got you your favorite," he says, settling down the cup of hibiscus iced tea that you shoot to with lasers in your eyes.
"i don't want it," you blurt, not even bothering to look at him as you say it, because he's done more than enough to annoy you this week alone. and now running into him here, too.
"but i got it especially for you, made with love." his voice high and cheery, paying no attention to the irritation seeping from your body language and tone.
you stand up from the seat with a sigh, telling hongjoong you'll be back and head for the women's restroom.
"what's her problem?" san questions, scoffing and taking the seat you were just occupying. "i was just trying to do something nice."
"i don't know. maybe she's just pissed from a certain dickhead following her around all week," hongjoong says sarcastically, san raising an eyebrow in return before he shrugs it off.
"nothing that i also didn't do the week before."
"a pleasant person you sound," hongjoong quips, the both of them holding a stare-off so strong, the tension could probably shatter glass.
"and you are?" though san says it calmly, there's an edge in his delivery that's testing hongjoong's endurance.
"someone that actually respects her enough to not follow her around like a creep."
san snickers from the comment, a smirk overtaking his face.
"you don't have to act all high and mighty when you're just sticking around for the chance to get laid," san snarks, the smugness and such childishness from a person making hongjoong see red, but he manages to contain himself.
"we're just friends, but you can think whatever you wanna think. something tells me you're dying to be in my position, though," hongjoong bites back, the smirk on san's lips slowly fading at the last remark.
because he's seen it, the way san looks at him and seonghwa with envy and resentment written all over him.
but despite the initial harshness of the encounter, san grew on hongjoong overtime and vice versa.
they weren't close by any means (mostly because you wouldn't have allowed it), but they were able to be within the same proximity and actually have a good time together; the young boy even sharing a few of his interests.
"yes, he likes you," hongjoong says, holding back the amusement as if having to reiterate it to a kid. "why else would me and seonghwa continuously tease you about him?"
"but it doesn't make any sense."
you swear you're not that dense, but you mostly just didn't consider it because of the way san is. he did nothing but consistently went out of his way to irritate you, only until the whole yunho and your sister shenanigans did you start seeing a different side of him.
"plus, if he likes me, then why would he sleep with other girls? flirt with them and kiss them?" just saying it brings back that same queasy sensation, similar to when you saw the girl back at san's place.
hongjoong thinks about it. he isn't san, but in comparison to you, he's had far more experiences when it comes to relationships and dating, so he can offer a theory or two.
"i can't say exactly because i'm not him, but my guess is, he doesn't see it as wrong necessarily because you two aren't together."
"but he's also dated people. he was in relationships," you tell hongjoong more passionately, as if demanding for an immediate explanation to this nonsense.
"people date and are in relationships with others they don't like or love all the time," he answers nonchalantly.
but it doesn't make you feel any better, nor did it answer anything.
"so he's just an asshole and this is a mistake?"
hongjoong sighs and face palms, shaking his head before recollecting himself.
"maybe. maybe not. but one thing for sure is that he likes you, and everything you just asked me now, he can answer it himself."
you let his words linger in silence, picking your head up again when he speaks.
"anything else you wanna get off your chest?"
you bat your lashes and bite your lips before telling him, "i-i also might've told him i'm gonna be leaving for japan although i haven't notified my boss of the final decision, yet."
hongjoong tilts his head and quirks his lips to the side, about to say something when someone in the crowd calls out to him.
"yeah i'll be there in a quick sec!" he yells back.
"it's okay, you can go," you assure, appreciative of his time.
he nods. "yeah, i'm afraid i can't keep them waiting any longer. but hey, i hope you figure things out with san and reach out to me if you want. my number is still the same."
"for sure," you reply with a smile.
"but you good? think you can get home by yourself?" he asks worriedly.
"yeah, i'm good. i can call a cab."
"alright. safe trip," he says one last time before standing up, but you stop him midway with a soft call of his name before he can disappear from your sight.
"i'm sorry... for what i said and did that day," you tell him, looking and sounding as apologetic as one can be, because you truly are.
he doesn't say anything until a few seconds later, the blank expression turning into a softer smile.
"apology accepted. i'm also sorry for that day."
"apology accepted."
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going off on your own without letting san know the real reason why might lead to one of the biggest mistakes you'll make. but you're not sure if going to his place right now is the right choice, either.
you make your way to the floor he's on, doing the best you can to shut out any images from the other day; standing in front of his door while your heart beats loudly into your ears and stalling even further to think of what he could be up to at 11 in the night.
he might be asleep, or he might not even be home--or there's a good chance he's relieving the stress of today's event the way you know he would, but you'd rather not think about it.
the press to the doorbell is slow and hesitant at first, but you ring it three times at least, standing still for a good minute; the anxiety and nervousness from before replaced by a strange disappointment that he actually really might not be home.
with a low sigh, you turn your back to the door in defeat, barely two steps out when it flings open behind you, bringing back the nervousness from before as you swallow down the knot.
"y/n?" he calls out, your back still to him.
and oh how comforted you are just to hear his voice again, even if it hasn't even been a full day since you two last talked.
you finally face him with batting lashes as you meet his eyes, seeing his hair is still wet and he has a towel hanging over his shoulder, he was probably in the shower when you came ringing.
"hey," you say quietly, your lips drawing a thin smile because this is really awkward. you've never been in this situation with san before, obviously.
"what are you doing here?" he asks softly. "i mean, not that i'm not relieved to see you, but just that... you know, what happened today." his voice thins out toward the end, like he isn't sure if he's supposed to be bringing it up this soon.
but you're glad he does.
"i-i want to talk to you about it... truthfully, this time," you tell him, biting back for a short second before continuing. "is it okay if i come in?"
he doesn't hesitate to nod. "yeah, of course." moving out of the way and widening the frame for you.
everything is and looks the same as last time you were here, duh, but the air is different. it could be due to the fight this evening, or that there's a clear change in your relationship with san and how you view him.
you don't know whether to stand or sit, fidgeting and watching san walk over and plop himself down on the sofa in front of you, a chuckle escaping him when he catches onto the sight.
"you just gonna stand the entire time, or?" he teases, prompting an eye roll in return as you sit down in the very same spot you've sat plenty of times before.
taking in his body language and treatment of you so far, you wonder if this is just how san is. that he copes in a way that seems as if nothing is really bothering him... or maybe he got over it, you don't know.
he seemed upset earlier, but anything can happen in a matter of hours.
the thickest silence enters only a moment after, and it's only fair you take the initiative since you came to find him, and it was also you that made it a problem in the first place.
"earlier," you start cautiously, "i wasn't in the right headspace at all."
you wait for a reaction from him before adding anything else, afraid you'll bombard him with too much at once.
"it's okay. i could tell something was bothering you, but it bothered me too because i could also tell you weren't being honest."
you almost wanna cower because just him saying it already makes you feel guilty.
"and a big decision like that doesn't get made overnight. you were fine the day before. something big must've had to happen for you to change your mind so quickly, right?" the way he stares so deeply as if searching for an answer; the desperation in his voice is felt and only worsening your guilt.
"yeah, something did happen," you say, not sure where to begin but beginning nonetheless.
his features twist, glaring at you with a mix of sympathy and curiosity.
"is it... about yunho?" he asks carefully.
san enjoys the time he spent with you; even more than he would have thought, and though you both didn't start off on the best path, he sees potentials in the relationship changing for the better--not even romantically (he don't know if that's possible), but to where you two could be friends for once in the 20 plus years you guys have known each other.
for a bit, it seemed like it was finally happening. but maybe in your head and heart, yunho will always occupy a special kind of space he cannot compete with, no matter how hard he tries.
"no," you answer, much to san's surprise, taking a long pause and then finally telling him what made you so upset that you considered moving across the sea. "i saw her when i was coming up to your place yesterday."
you have no idea how he's gonna to take it; if it's something to boost his ego or maybe he'll just laugh it off because it's actually so dumb, but you try to figure which is it gonna be, gaze never leaving his sight.
but san raises a brow as if trying to decipher what you mean, then it hits him.
"nari?" he squeaks.
yes, nari. the one you're sure is with him at most parties, and also probably the one he was with that one time you ran into him coming out of a bedroom looking all kinds of fucked up.
you've seen san with a variety of girls through the years, but she's easily the most recognizable.
san looks to still be in his thoughts, now attempting to piece together what is it about nari being here yesterday that could make you so upset.
and when you see his puzzled expression slowly replaced by a smirk that only gets bigger, you know he's figured it out.
"are you... perhaps, jealous?" he says, the slyest tone ever gracing your ears, raising the temperature on your cheeks as they probably burn a bright pink.
you're blushing because of choi san... just incredible.
when you're still to prideful to admit it, he gets off from where he was sitting and shamelessly throws himself down next to you, making you scoot over as a reflex, but he goes out of his way to close the space between you two.
he's so close now, face merely inches away and pestering you to answer while you refuse to meet his eyes.
"you were jealous, right?" he tilts his head, tone annoying but also flirty.
"shut up," you spit, finally facing him and able to pick up his natural scent from this angle, you actually can't believe you'd even think about how attractive he looks in a moment like this.
his showered hair, bare face, and the proximity that makes the scene much more intimate--
"it's not funny," you add, because the smirk isn't leaving him at all, and now he's laughing, too.
"it's only because i think you're cute," he says, now suddenly swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in even closer. "like i swear, you didn't give a rat ass about me less than two months ago. did i finally win your heart?"
it feels like he's deflecting, so you try your best to ignore the antics, persisting with all seriousness, "so are you gonna explain yourself?" you haven't cracked a smile even once.
the bigger grin on his face mellows out into a softer smile.
"we didn't do anything," he says calmly, much to a silence from you because you're hoping he has more to say than that, which he does. "i had her over because i wanted to talk to her about something."
"like... what?"
he snickers at such coyness that you're doing an awful job at hiding.
"that i think it's best me and her stop whatever we had going on."
you can only blink because it's not exactly the response you were expecting, asking in a low voice, "and why is that so?"
"because i had a good feeling about you, and that you were gonna stay."
it turns so quiet after, you think you can hear the footsteps littering outside the hall; san's answer making you feel all sorts of way, you're not sure how to react.
"i'm sorry," you finally say out loud, the look on san unchanging even through all of this. "it was just overwhelming in the moment and it was as if nothing could make it better... especially after everything."
"it's fine," he assures. "i just can't believe you made such a life-changing decision because of that. is it too late to take it back?" he's a mixture of being absolutely serious and half laughing.
"yeah, about that... i, uh, i haven't told my boss, yet."
because it is big, and it is life-changing, and maybe you were hoping there could be something else that could convince you to stay.
san stares at you in disbelief before he cracks out a chuckle again, shaking his head.
"you're crazy," he mumbles, the comment prompting an eye roll from you.
"you scared me so much," san goes on. "i don't know what i would've done if you really left."
there's a brief stare-off before you blank and move your gaze to the coffee table at the end of your feet, mind suddenly drawing back to the encounter with hongjoong.
"i ran into hongjoong before i came here," you tell him, his head perking with interests. "i was drinking and he came in with his group of music junkies."
san only listens, giving you the space to talk until you ask of him yourself.
"you know what he told me?"
"what?"
you chuckle lightly before you can even get the words out; san watching in amusement and pondering as to what you could find so funny.
"he said that you have liked me for a long time," you say, no longer afraid to look him in the eyes while your heart beats silently but loud to your own ears, hongjoong's words replaying in your head while you await a response.
“maybe. maybe not. but one thing for sure is that he likes you, and everything you just asked me now, he can answer it himself.���
san quirks his lips to the side and shrugs half-heartedly, his relaxed manner tells you he's just teasing you but honestly, san can be hard to read.
then he finally answers, after you're about to open your big mouth again, "i guess that's why i never liked being around hongjoong much, even if he's cool... the guy can be too observant."
he pretty much confirms it without saying so, a part of you relieved and then another now realizing you're gonna have to carry the conversation and decide what you wanna do with this... information. if you even have to do anything.
"since when?" you ask, just a little curious and wondering.
he hums and removes the arm that was around your shoulders this entire time to cross it with his other one as his back falls to the couch.
"to be honest, it comes and goes. but the very first time i remember liking you was actually when i first met you."
even at the age of nine, he thought you were the prettiest girl he's ever seen. the way you dressed and the way you always did your hair, putting it in a high ponytail or a bun; and the way you liked to wear red and black most of the times made it easy to pick you out.
he was too young at the time and didn't know how to go about having a crush on someone, so he might've done a thing or two to piss you off, and it also didn't help that you were an emo ass kid as hard-headed as a rock.
you didn't just treat him that way, but also everybody else. everybody except yunho.
he loves his brother and has more than a civil relationship with him now, but he just never really understood what was it about yunho that made him so special to you.
"i mean, of course, you were mean as hell, but it's complicated," he adds, shaking his head and snickering quietly at the fact.
but you're more fixated on something else he just said, reiterating, "it comes and goes as in... sometimes you would like me and sometimes you wouldn't?"
“yes, he likes you,” hongjoong says, holding back the amusement as if having to reiterate it to a kid. “why else would me and seonghwa continuously tease you about him?”
“but it doesn’t make any sense.”
“plus, if he likes me, then why would he sleep with other girls? flirt with them and kiss them?” just saying it brings back that same queasy sensation, similar to when you saw the girl back at san’s place.
"i guess you can put it that way?" his voice raises in pitch, as if unsure himself. "it's quite difficult to put in words."
"make me understand," you state in all seriousness.
because again, your biggest doubt when it comes to san is his ability to commit to you and only you. even if you wanna believe him, and he's proven himself the past couple of months that he can surprise you in good ways, what happened with yunho and your sister might've instilled some newfound trauma and trust issues.
you watch as he catches his breath and seems to linger on his thoughts for a few seconds more.
he starts, "there were times i really liked you, the feelings can be quite intense. like that one time when we both were dazed as hell and we kissed, it felt surreal. or whenever i think you look super hot in a certain outfit, the feeling also creeps up again. i also enjoy our banters, and pretty much any time we have a somewhat normal interaction, i would also get it."
you listen attentively with your stomach and chest doing something funny just hearing san speak about you this way.
"then there would be those times... times where you would annoy me and i'd think you're a total bitch. like when you insulted me in front of my friends or just the way you'd always flop around yunho like he's jesus or something. plus, my feelings and the chances of it actually happening are two different things, so it not being an exclusive relationship overall made it easy for me to do whatever i want."
“i can’t say exactly because i’m not him, but my guess is, he doesn’t see it as wrong necessarily because you two aren’t together.”
hongjoong pretty much got it spot on, and you suppose san doesn't owe you any allegiance. that would be ridiculous.
"well that's good to know," is all you say, still trying to process everything.
"what about you?" he asks coyly. "when did you start liking me?"
the question takes you aback, always so bold and daring, but now only staring back like a little deer caught in headlights.
"probably when i was most desperate, i don't know," you joke, a chuckle bubbling out of san. "no, but really, i think it's just when you were there for me when i needed someone the most."
you almost wanna cower because just talking about such a thing with san makes you feel cringe and embarrassed, and he sees it all over your face.
"that's nice to hear." he smiles, the sight pleasant to look at; the genuine happiness on him because you're saying so many nice things about him tonight.
there's a quick pause as you both think of what to say next, knowing what kind of questions and conversation usually follows, but not wanting to be the first to say it.
"so are you gonna be staying?" he changes subject, because you might not wanna get to that part, yet.
your eyes sparkles with something mischievous and playful, answering him, "well, i don't have much reasons to leave now, do i?"
he smirks and nods.
"yeah, i guess you don't." his tone changes the next and sounding much serious. "i was happy to see that it was you at the door. i was afraid this evening could've been our last meeting."
the reminder brings back a pang of guilt as you feel yourself shrinking on the couch.
"again, i'm sorry. just still trying to learn how to deal my emotions... efficiently at least."
"no, i understand. in the end, you came back and made up for it."
"i did." you smile lightly. you couldn't have done it without hongjoong.
there's a comfortable silence before san exhales and turns his head toward the kitchen, then back to you.
"have you eaten?"
you shake your head. "no, but i'm good. i should probably get back. i don't wanna be late to work tomorrow."
"i can drive you back, if you don't mind."
given you don't look like you're in the best condition, and along with a rosy scent he's always known you by, there's a whisk of alcohol that you've even admitted to, though you surprisingly look and sound more than coherent.
--
the car ride is quiet but comfortable as you both let the music fill the air. some songs you don't recognize, but it does goes perfectly with the night as san weaves through lanes a little too fast--something you'd probably yell at him for if you were in a more sober state of mind.
but tonight has gone so well and you don't wanna take any chances of ruining it.
he parks just right outside the gate of your parents place, unlocking the doors and snapping to you.
"here it is," he says.
"you not gonna go say hi to your parents or yunho?" you tease, considering his parents place and family is just next door.
"nah." he shakes his head. "it's too late, and i'm sure they already know i love them."
you smile and unbuckle your seatbelt. "alright."
he nods, and you both just sit there for a moment too long; the unspoken words and uncertainty as equally bothering to you as it is to him, but you're not sure how to bring it up.
you just know you don't wanna end the night without talking about it, at least.
"hey," you say softly, your voice quiet and blending into the night while san doesn't look away from you one bit. "i, uhm... i'll think about it, okay? i mean, if you want me to."
you're stammering and sounding the most awkward you've been all night (which is a feat), that san can't help but to laugh it off. and he knows you're not talking about the decision to stay.
"yeah, of course. take your time. you know i'll be here," he assures, always having a way to make you feel secure and listened to.
"i appreciate it," you mumble, sending him one last smile, about ready to head out. "thank you by the way."
he returns the smile and nods. "no problem."
"i'll get going then," you say, opening the door halfway and about to leave, but instead taking a deep breath as you turn to san, which surprises him.
he blinks in bewilderment. "did you--"
then it happens. a quick peck to his lips before pulling away to his stunned gaze, backing yourself out of the car and giggling.
"goodnight," you coo teasingly, shutting the door and waving him off.
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it's crazy how just a week ago, there was a chance you were gonna be flying across the sea to go live in another country.
how much more sad and unhappy you felt; as if that was your only option left. but now already feeling two times better with your future looking a little more than just bleak.
you have surely told your boss you're gonna stay; the news a relief to him because it would cost a lot more resources having to find a replacement, as well as provide the proper training.
and you have surely talked to the landlord of the complex you were seeking a while ago that you're gonna take the place, after which she so kindly walked you through all the steps and what documents you needed to provide.
you just finished going over the contract with her the day prior, and all you need to do now is pay the deposit.
you should be able to move in by friday, she said.
when you told your family about the move, you weren't surprised they didn't seem to care all that much--your parents, at least. minjeong visibly took the news a lot harder.
even if you guys didn't have the best relationship growing up and aren't that close even now, the house's gonna feel a lot more empty now, she said. she's gotten used to you being around for more than 20 years now.
but you think a part of your parents are just relieved to finally have you out of the house and start life on your own after being with them for so long. you'd rather think of it that way, but after all, not like it's gonna matter all that much when you are moved out.
you also swallowed your pride and finally reached out to both hongjoong and seonghwa again (you're still a tad ashamed by the events that followed even if hongjoong had given you the green light).
you all have set up a time and place to meet up next month when you all should be available, so that's something to look forward to.
san has been helping you window shop for furnitures, recommending which he thinks is best based on his experiences and whatnot, though you made sure you tell him you want interior as minimalistic as possible.
clean and just overall simple.
you'll be moving most of the things from your current room to the new one, taking your bed that's an actual necessity with, so you'll worry about actually purchasing furnitures when you're finally moved into the place.
as for things with san, it's always a gamble regarding what's gonna go down whenever you do hang out with him.
on some occasions, he'd act completely normal and treat you as a friend similar to before. then more than half the time, he'd flirt and bring up the peck from a week ago, but never going further than that.
you feel as if you're both currently pushing and pulling and playing a game of who's gonna crack first.
"tomorrow," you tell san over the phone, currently ripping everything from posters to every pieces of decorations that might've been there since you were in high school, off of your walls.
it took a day later than expected to process all the paperworks and everything, but you finally received a call earlier that you can finally move in tomorrow on saturday.
yunho must've heard about it from your sister or san, because you definitely did not tell him nor have you even talked to him in a while. but he texted you this morning if you needed any help with the move, to which you kindly declined though thanked him for the offer.
he asked how you were doing and you said you were doing better. that you're excited to finally have your own place and for what's to come after that.
you and san seems close lately, you recall one of his texts at the top of your head.
yeah, a little, you responded.
"i'll be there, definitely," san replies back. "anything for you, my dear."
you grimace at the pet name and scoffs.
"and who said you can call me that?" you throw the things you've managed to gather into the cardboard box on the floor.
"don't act like you don't like it. anyway, i'll be there at 8 a.m. sharp."
"for what you just said, make that 7."
before you can end the call, you hear his laughter from the other line.
--
"and i want the t.v. stand over here... no! over here!" you talk to yourself, pointing to exact spots and ponder just how you want everything to be.
"a little help?" san's voice come from behind you, muffled by the box he's carrying until he plops it down near the kitchen, all out of breath.
"you're a big boy, you got it," you brush off the complaint, walking back to the bedroom and seeing your mattress flat on the floor, already huffing at the thought of having to build the bed frame back up again.
you hear the shut of the front door, san's voice piercing into the bedroom.
"that should be the last of it. for today at least."
you turn to head back into the living room, barely making it through the doorway when you thump against his chest, rubbing your forehead after as you look up at him.
"don't i get something for helping you out?" he says, tone sly and cunning, you don't even wanna admit what it does to your heart.
he's been doing this a lot more often--say things with the slightest innuendos behind them just to get a reaction out of you. or maybe he's trying to see how far he can push now that there's been a change of dynamic. kind of.
but you remain unfazed by his comment, keeping your ground and telling him, "if you come by later, i'll make dinner for you in return."
he looks over your shoulder to the unfinished bedroom.
"don't you need help with the bed frame?"
you shake your head. "i got it. plus, i've bothered you enough for today, so i'll let you go for now."
"i don't mind staying to help."
"no. i need some time to settle in. and, we still got a lot more work to do tomorrow."
he hesitates, but eventually gives in. that it's more about you needing this time to yourself; in a new environment and finally a place to call your own.
"alright. but if you need me, call me."
"i will."
he walks to the door as you follow behind, holding the door open for him while he now lingers in the hallway facing you.
"i'll come by later, though. i'm not forgetting that."
you chuckle and lightly roll your eyes.
"yeah, of course. and bring a drink or two. we'll celebrate."
"for you finally having your own place."
"for me finally having my own place," you repeat, a smile on your lips mirroring san's.
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you spend most of the day setting up the bedroom and assembling the bed frame, thankfully remembering where everything goes from the top of your head because you threw out the instructions maybe five years ago.
you unbox everything and attempt to place the decorations where you think they look best for now, shoving all the empty boxes into a corner after for the next morning when you'll have to take out the trashes.
the living room is empty. no couches, no nothing because you haven't bought anything; the area for now only consisting of a rug and a small table you brought from your previous room because you and san need somewhere to sit and eat on.
when you're sure you're done with all the unboxing for the day, you run for the grocery store just around the corner, grabbing a pot, a pan, other essentials, then the ingredients.
it's almost 5 in the afternoon by the time you start cooking, and though it's been a long day, something about it feels accomplishing. being by yourself, cooking in your own apartment and not having to worry about anything else.
it might be too soon to say, but you think you've made the right choice.
as the stew's just about to be done, there's a knock at the door that you happily skip to, flinging the frame open to no one other than san with a plastic bag around one of his arms.
"hey," you greet.
"hey," he returns, taking it upon himself to walk in as if it's his own home, a strong aroma hitting his nose immediately. "wow, it smells good in here."
"i did say i was gonna cook," you say, shutting the door.
"yes, and i brought a drink or two just like you said." he wiggles the bag in his arm, then peeking over the pot boiling on the stove. "whatchu' cooking?"
"kimchi stew," you answer. "but i also bought some ramen just in case."
"that's perfect," he says, walking over and setting down the bag of drinks onto the floor just right next to the small table.
"sorry. i'm still working on getting a dining set." you half chuckle at the sad sight of the current setup.
"this will do."
he works on setting the drinks: two simple bottle of sojus he got on the way here because tonight isn't about having fun or whatever. he wants it to be meaningful, maybe even sweet.
you place the still hot stew in the middle, going back to the kitchen to grab two small bowls and utensils, handing him his and finally able to rest peacefully across from him while the steam from the pot blocks your view of each other.
"so how is it so far?" he asks, being the one to start.
"good," you answer, the same time you go in with a spoon for a taste test.
"feels nice, doesn't it? like you have all the freedom in the world." san does the same, his eyes lighting up when he's able to digest the flavor. "wow. you're amazing, y/n."
you can't help but roll your eyes, still trying to slowly settle into the way he'd just casually compliment you with such sincereness.
"i'm glad you think so. but yes, it is like as if i have all the freedom in the world. for now, at least." you chuckle, and he follows shortly after.
"in a month or so, let me know how you feel again."
you nod to his words, the next minute an air of silence as you both busy yourself with the food and drink.
it's more than past 6, the sky outside turning a darker color and painting the neighborhood more empty.
you're just about done with swallowing the portion of your food when a thought crosses, being the one to start speaking again.
"were you the one who told yunho i was moving?"
he looks up from his bowl at that with blinking eyes, placing it down on the table and shakes his head, his mouth still full.
"why would i do that? then i'd have competitions for who's gonna help you move in."
you laugh at that, placing your utensils down and resting your hands on your lap.
"how's yunho?" you ask, because even if you don't wanna think about it, yunho has been a part of your life. someone you clung onto for a large chunk of it, and it wouldn't be realistic if you were completely over it within just the span of a few months.
you no longer want to be with him, and you no longer think of the what ifs, but it does sting and ache a little when the reminder of the events comes up once in a while.
still, you wouldn't change anything and any regrets you've had, you feel you've already made amends with; only hoping to not make any more.
"he's been doing good," san answers. "the best i've seen from him in a while."
you smile, mumbling, "that's good to hear."
you don't know if you could ever say it to your sister, but for what it is-- whether good or bad, they deserve each other. yunho and her.
they've always been more alike and compatible than you and yunho could ever be and it was something you struggled accepting for the longest time.
"what about you? how are you doing?" san questions, catching your gaze in his. "i know it hasn't been easy."
because san acknowledges it, too. how much yunho meant to you. that you used to see nothing and no one else but only yunho.
"better," you assure, a soft and comforting smile on your lips while you pause and hold the exact words you want to say, letting it go when you feel most ready. "better because of you."
you see san swallowing and his food and the chopsticks he was previously holding now forgotten on the table as he continues giving you his full attention.
"you were there for me when i needed someone the most, and you're still here for me. i don't know..." you practically murmur the last part, shaking your head and chuckling quietly, "i liked yunho a lot because it seemed he was the first person who accepted me for who i am."
you sound like a broken record at this point, but talking about it--your feelings, and especially to san helps you understand it better.
"i was too stupid and uncaring in the eyes of my parents, and too odd and indecipherable in the eyes of everyone else. kind of ironic, isn't it? i hated the fact people judged me without knowing me when i, too, judged you without knowing enough of you."
san listens and he knows this is it. you're pouring all of your heart out with nothing left to hide, whether it's things you've already said or haven't.
you ramble on, "i mean, i always thought some of them might end up liking me if they got to know me, and then that turned out to be true for you, too. i got to know more about you and i do like you..."
san feels his heart caving in, wondering if this might be it as well. a moment he's been waiting so long to happen but unsure if you wanted it as soon and as much as he does.
"is this a confession?" he tries his best for it to come out as light hearted as possible, an attempt to conceal just how on edge he actually is.
there's a pause before you answer, shaky voice and all. "i guess so."
but san doesn't celebrate his victory too early, yet; a "but" coming out of you quick enough to stop him.
"i'm just afraid," you finally admit to him the very thing weighing you down, and why even though you like him, you're just the slightest skeptical actually doing something about it.
"what are you afraid of?" he asks concernedly, desperate to resolve all and any doubts you have.
you take a short breath. "just the entire thing with yunho... i keep fearing the same thing will happen. when i texted you that night that i was going to japan, it wasn't just because i was jealous, but also because it made me realize if i was only replacing yunho with you. i know that's not the case because what i feel for you is different from what i felt for yunho, but i still can't shake it off."
you're talking so fast, you don't even catch the exact moment san's already moved from across you to right beside you, taking your hands into his and looking you in the eyes.
"i promise you that what happened with yunho won't happen with me," he says, passion in his voice wishing for you to believe him. "i will make sure it won't."
and you do want to believe him. end all the doubts and skepticism here, but you also wanna be honest.
"but the way you are, san... it makes it hard for me even if i wanna believe you. you change girls like you change your underwear. how would i know for sure giving this a chance won't be a mistake?"
you can feel the way san tenses up at the harsher words, maybe a hint of hurt in his dull eyes, but he gathers himself rather quickly for his turn.
"i understand. i don't blame you given i don't exactly have the best track record, and i don't know for sure if this is gonna be a mistake, but i do wanna give it a chance... if you want, of course."
he takes a short pause before continuing, "i've never been with two girls at once, and i always broke things off if i don't see it working out. and if i don't want anything serious, i let them know. but i've never felt the way i'm feeling for you right now for anyone else, ever, and it's something that i'm sure of the more i'm with you."
you blink at that, your stomach tightening and breath shallow, the scene much more intense and real than the first night when you two first talked about this mutual interest.
"i always thought that it was because we grew up together, and that definitely played some part, but i also grew up with minjeong and never really felt anything particular about her. i do like you a lot, so let the decision be in your hand whether you want more out of this or not. you already know my answer."
his grip on your hands has become looser with time, the food and drink now long forgotten, the only thing in your mind is the way he's looking at you and how important your next few words are.
"we can give it a try," you slowly and quietly answer, watching san's pupils go wide as he breaks out into a wide smile after.
"thank you," he manages to say calmly and coolly despite his body feeling anything but that.
he places a kiss to the top of your hand, prompting you to pull away in fake disgust and a laughter.
"i guess dreams do come true after all," he jokes, another one that makes you roll your eyes, feeling a little shy all of a sudden.
"well i'm gonna go wash my dishes," you attempt to switch the subject, grabbing your bowl and untensils and head for the kitchen.
san quirks an eyebrow and raises his voice from his seat.
"but there's still so much food left." he stares at the amount left, then back to you, getting off the floor himself to follow behind, watching as you turn on the faucet and completely ignore him.
"oh i know what this is." he smirks, overtaking your hand and turning off the faucet, finally getting a reaction out of you as you snap your neck his way. "you're shy."
you blink, swallowing a quick knot and shake your head.
"i'm not," you say, turning back to aim for the faucet, but san beats you again, a stare-off ensuing with amusement written all over his eyes.
"you are. is it because it's weird we're practically girlfriend and boyfriend now?" he tilts his head.
hearing the terms out loud definitely is weird, you can't even deny the fact, instead nodding your head that gets a snicker out from san.
"yeah, it's gonna take some time for sure." he smiles, and the volume and tone at which he says it almost like he's trying to seduce you.
you've just realized how sensual and close you guys are at this angle. your back against the sink and chest basically rubbing his own as he's cornered you into this state, gawking down at you with a look that makes you wanna cower.
the quietest air goes by with his head only lowering each second, and you realize it, too, that you wanna kiss him just as bad.
with a close of your eyes, his lips is on yours the next, still at first, then slowly moving in an attempt to find the perfect rhythm until you respond.
your hands find itself resting on the counter of the sink as the kiss makes your back dig into the edge. it isn't messy nor done sloppily despite how long san's been waiting for the moment again.
it's rather clean but passionate, giving san a kick back to the night he got to taste you for the first time even if you both weren't in the right state of minds, but it's one he doesn't forget easily.
both his grip has made way to rest at your hips, giving it a light squeeze and it doesn't take long for your arms to come up and around his shoulders, the scene taking a quick turn and you feel yourself losing your breath with each passing second.
when you both finally pull away, you nor san know how many minutes has gone by, only that his hair is already messy and tangled when you haven't even done much to it, and you're still trying to catch your breath.
you're the first to break into a small giggle with san following after, his grip still at your hips and your arms still around his shoulders.
"wow. that kiss already made me hard as a rock," san blurts, breaking the immersion as you roll your eyes.
"yeah, i can tell," you reply, shifting your legs slightly because the entire time, san's boner was pressing down on it.
he laughs shamelessly, proceeding to press only harder because he likes seeing your reaction, and he takes it you're fine with it because you're no longer fighting it.
"tell me, are you the type to have sex first date?" he asks, his head slightly tilted and honestly looking so attractive.
"not really," you answer. "but is this really a first date?" you say it with the tiniest slyness and coyness, a lot of initial hesitation but when you really think about it, there's no reason to not sleep with san at this point.
especially at your age and with the little experiences you have, it's about time. beside, you always hear it's good to know and discover your sexual chemistry with someone in the early stages, because often than not, incompatibilities in that regard can destroy a relationship perfectly fine in other aspects.
"you're right." san smirks, causing a small squeak from you when he snakes his arms aroud your butt suddenly and lifts you onto the counter, but you stop him before he can do anything else.
"wait. can we do this in the bedroom instead? i'd just prefer my kitchen to be, you know... clean, since this is where i cook."
he laughs, catching the way your eyelashes would flutter cutely and nods his head, helping you down onto the floor again.
"thanks," you say, barely able to fix the wrinkles of your pants when he grabs your wrist and leads you to the bedroom, proceeding to throw you down on the bed the softest he can as he hovers over you.
the current position a bit unreal because san never really thought it would happen.
"just out of curiosity," san starts, "have you ever slept with yunho?"
you bite your lower lip and shake your head. "never any penetrations. he always said that should wait till marriage."
it's not that you didn't wanna sleep with yunho, but the other way around it seems. and now you know why.
san quirks his lips to the side and accepts the answer.
"if i did, would you not want to sleep with me anymore?" you ask just for the sake of his response, mirth in your eyes and amusement hanging by your tongue.
he cranks an eyebrow and actually thinks about it.
"that would be kind of nasty, i'm not gonna lie," he says, much to a laughter in response. "so i'm glad that's not the case."
"yeah, thankfully," you say after, teasing him slightly.
the both of you stay still for a few seconds more before san takes it as a sign to lower his lips again to capture yours for another kiss.
he lets his body fall on top of yours gently, his weight heavy but nice as you're comforted by the warmth of his skin that makes you feel even closer to him.
you hear and feel him shift, lifting his left arm off the bed to find the end of your shirt and bury his fingers underneath to where the bare of your skin is.
you can't help the low whimper at the sensation of his fingers crawling on your skin and making way to where your bra is, flinching just the slightest when his entire hand cups the shape of your breast.
he breaks the kiss to look down at your already messy state, whispering, "always wanted to know how these felt." the comment making you bite at your lower lip again, something so alluring about the way he says it.
you take it upon yourself to sit up, san removing his hand to watch you undress your top, the way you do it so sensually and almost teasingly like a scene straight from some porn video.
he's almost too into the sight, he forgets you're actually in front of him all flesh and bones, until you've already rid of everything and calling his name.
your titties out and spilling, the actual thing better than he could have imagined. better than all those times he'd spend trying to make them out and just picture how your actual breasts look.
"fuck, you're so hot, y/n," he hiss, the frustration on him makes you giggle before he latches on with both his hands and takes a dive, one nipple in his mouth and the other one being fondled with.
a moan escapes your mouth at the wetness of his tongue circling one of your nipples, throwing your head back to stare at the ceiling and holding back an even louder moan when he squeezes your other one.
it goes on for a few minute at least; how he switches back and forth between your breasts and hand always on the other to make sure it's not neglected, whether he's groping it or playing with it.
"san," you call his name, his eyes shooting up to look at you with lips red from the service. you don't say anything, instead calmly getting on your knees and breaking the contact with san as he tries to guess your next move.
your gaze moves to his crotch area and he gets the message instantly, smirking in return.
he spreads his legs merrily as you crawl closer, one last look of exchange before you reach for the hem of his shorts, pulling it down along his boxer underneath just enough for his hard cock to spring itself out, his length sitting straight up and making you swallow a knot.
he adjusts himself enough for you to sit yourself between his legs, gaining the perfect access to do what you need to do.
with a careful grip, his cock is in your hold as you're stroking it up and down, observing the sight of him rolling his eyes and looking just so hot; all the more reasons you wanna have sex with him.
he isn't too long in length, but his girth is quite thick and just enough for you.
you get ready to take him in, lowering your head each passing second and stroking it faster until your tongue licks over the tip of his cock and he releases the sexiest moan ever as a result.
one of your hands still grip the rest of his cock while your mouth stays on the tip of it until you're there long enough, tilting your head to lick the side and and coating every inch of it before starting from the top again and taking his entire length in the best you can.
there's tears in your eyes the lower you go, but you also know just when to stop, coming back up just below the tip and going down again, repeating the action until you see san is a groaning mess of pleasure.
nothing but "fuck" comes out of his mouth, his right hand having found itself on a bundle of your hair, helping and guiding you as you give him the blowjob of his life.
he lets go and you pull away after some time, both of you huffing and puffing, smiles crossing your lips when both your eyes meet.
"jesus, you suck cock like you've done it a thousand times before," he comments, because his own is still recovering.
you sucked his cock as if yunho wasn't your only sexual experience.
but you only smirk and shrug, replying mischievously, "i have my ways."
he doesn't have time to think about that right now, though. all he wanna do is be inside of you. fuck you into the mattress and make you feel so good, and he's glad you feel the same with how you're already wrapping your arms around him and pulling him down as your back hits the sheet.
he kisses your accepting lips once more before breaking it to ask you, "you ready?" to which you nod and already starts pushing at the hem of your own pants, san helping you when he catches on, thrusting it until it's off all the way with you kicking it onto the floor.
san catches the light pink lace panties you have on, smiling to himself not long before you also throw that off, now left in nothing but to feel the most naked you have ever been in the presence of someone else.
you can feel san's length brushing the inside of your thighs and it only makes you wanna speed up the process, telling him you're ready.
he creeps his fingers to your opening to prep you up, sticking two in and the wetness already coating him that instant while a low grunt escapes your lips.
he takes it out with a pop and you pant, watching as he gives it a once over on his tongue, clearing all residues off his fingers before gripping his cock for your entrance.
it's suddenly as if you've forgotten how to breathe while you just wait for that delicious and burning stretch, groaning when you feel the tip enter, already leaning your head back as you squint your eyes.
then instantaneously and surprisingly, san shoves in his entire cock, the loudest moan yet leaving you and shortly accompanied by a passionate, "shit!" your arms digging into his shoulders already as you try getting used to the feeling.
your collection of dildos and vibrators nothing compared to the real thing as your back arches when he starts moving.
he thinks you look so sexy like this. under him and taking his cock so well. he'll fuck you, and he'll fuck you good for all those times back then when you'd always say you'd never fuck him.
for all those times you'd hurl insults his way and act as if you don't even wanna be in the same room as him.
but he's going to fuck you good, too, because he wanna love you. he wanna be with you and show you the love he's capable of; hoping this is a start.
he buries his face into your neck while he fucks into you, getting grunts and moans in response and he doesn't stop until he feels himself about to come, removing himself from your neck and hair to see the pleasure overtaking your face; a light smirk on your lips and eyes rolled back.
"i'm gonna pull out, okay, baby?" he whispers into your ear that you nod to, placing a kiss to your cheek after and getting up, pulling out of you and leaving your inside so empty now that you've come to love the feeling.
he pumps his cock a few times before shooting his load onto your stomach, your gaze fixated on it before he grabs both your legs and hangs it over his shoulders, going on to scoot you closer with a grip of your waist.
you're not sure what he's gonna do until you feel his warm fingers rubbing over the entrance of your vagina.
"can't leave you hanging," he says simply, his middle finger especially running up and down, then he slowly enters it along with his index as the sensation comes back even if not as fulfilling as his cock.
he keeps thrusting until your wall closes in on his fingers and a look of euphoria crosses your expression, pulling out sloppily and throwing his body down next to yours while you're still trying to catch your breath.
"how are you feeling?" he asks, moving a strand of hair covering your eyes behind your ear.
"good," you answer. "and you?"
"the best i've been in a while."
you both enjoy the temporary silence with the occasional breathing of the other person, staring back at the each other for what feels like a long time and a smile on both your lips.
san finally sits up and blinks down at you, offering a hand.
"let's go get cleaned up, and make sure you pee."
a relationship with san isn't gonna come without problems and challenges, but you suppose love is all about giving it a chance and putting efforts into it, and you wanna put all you've got and see where this goes.
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a/n: welp, girls or boys... i am not happy with it but i'm glad it's over lol. (taglist gonna look mad weird bc it was being a bitch / apology to anyone who got tagged like twice. also removed lots of ppl who deactivated)
taglist: @freeandrealme @shingene @cherrychristie @softie00 @crimson-mia
@hexheathen @lixpixstix @atinytease @turtash @moonseonghwa
@justineasian @sannie-pudding @itsokaytobedumb00 @nerdy-kimchi
@fannyxmh @acciocriativity @mel-the-mad-hatter @diorwoo @devilsmatches
@kyume02 @distvrbia @wonwowzers @endeav0rsb1tch
@sannwa @brown88 @eburneon @hotteokhatyu @yeosangsbiceps
@sankatchu @harusoraa @ad0rechuu @woojirang @revehosh
@byunniebaekhyunnie @nabi-sannie @gugggu6gvai @rockstarsanie
@shakalakaboomboo
@yeosangsbbg @yawnzshit @avantalem @lelaleleb @mountiiny
@svintsandghosts @kkayfan @arinyyy
@nevieatiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad
@nescaffei @vixensss @santineez
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barefoothighlander · 2 years ago
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The way you write ghost and like a specific reader is so good it has me going insane, on that I just read the cottage one where Simon admits to himself he loves sweet things and would it be possible to get a baker reader x Simon, with him often comming because he's hooked on their desserts but also how fine they are
something sweet
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this is possibly one of my FAV tropes, thank you!!
warnings: fluff, gn pronouns, mutual pining, mentions of food throughout, ooc!ghost, kissing, not proofread
People always assumed Ghost ate purely for nutrients, the majority of the meals he consumed on base or in the field involving all four food groups, centred on protein. The truth was he had to stop himself every day from eating entire sleeves of cookies, his favourite being the bourbon biscuits that his mum used to buy.
He had an insatiable sweet tooth, always having loads of sugar in his tea, sneaking into the mess late at night to steal sweets from the kitchen, if you were to search his pockets you’d find wrappers for candy littered throughout them.
He was less restrained when he came home, often buying some sort of treat to pair with his tea when he’d visit a cafe, he’d gone for a walk that morning and decided to explore a few shops, stumbling across a bakery that he’d never been into.
It wasn’t even a question of should he go in, the scent of baked goods wafting from the open door as he looked through the window, trays lined with pastries and cakes, he was practically salivating at the sight of them.
He felt out of place in the cafe, his eyes falling in various couples having coffee together, a few others set up with their laptops as they picked at their food.
“What can I get for you?”
He didn’t intend for the interaction to be awkward, he’d never stumbled over his own words but the sight of you, hair messy, sleeves rolled up, a mess of flour sprinkled over your apron as your wide eyes and bright smile looked back at him had him frozen.
“You look like a tea guy, earl grey?”
How could you possibly know that? He moves closer to the counter, doing his best to make his stride less intimidating as he approaches you.
“How’d you know?”
“Get a lot of customers, I’ve gotten pretty good at knowing what people like”
Heat flushed his cheeks under his balaclava, his eyes nervously moving from your face to the display beside him.
“What do you recommend”
You follow his line of sight, pursing your lips as you think over the options,
“The muffins are good, chocolatines are a favourite, personally I’m partial to the biscuits”
“Which kind?”
“Bourbons are my favourite, the empires are a close second”
He hums in response, “Those are my favourite”
“You have good taste”
He moves his gaze back to you, “I like to think so”
You huff a small laugh, your fingers tapping against the counter as you lose yourself for a moment in his dark eyes.
“So earl grey and some bourbons”
“Sounds perfect”
You swallow a lump in your throat, biting back a smile as you move to collect his order, you toss a few biscuits into the bag, placing the tea bag in a cup before pouring the hot water on top, capping it and handing the pair to him.
“I threw in a few other things I thought you’d like”
“That’s very kind”
His fingers brush against yours as he takes the items from you, the contact making the hairs on your neck stand up. You drop your gaze nervously, smoothing your hair before turning back to him,
“Have a nice day” You stop your sentence abruptly, your eyes squinting slightly at him,
"Simon"
"Have a nice day Simon"
It was less than 24 hours before he was back, strutting through the front doors, oblivious to the various shared glances between other customers, his sights dead set on you.
"Back so soon?"
"How'd you know?"
"Know what?"
"Those extras you gave me yesterday, that raspberry thing and those little chocolates, how'd you know I'd like them"
"I didn't really, just a guess, they're my favourites"
"You have good taste"
"I'd hope so, I'm the one that makes them"
In a moment of realization, he looks around, there's no one else behind the counter, no noises from the kitchen, it really is just you there.
"You own the shop"
"For two years now"
"That's impressive"
You tilt your head down to hide the flush on your cheeks, smiling, "I have something for you"
"You made me something?"
"Was hoping you'd be back"
It's his turn to hide his face, even behind his mask he's scared you'd see the pink tint to his skin, the way his eyes crinkle at the edges, you push a small tray toward him, a cup of tea paired with an assortment of treats.
"I am supposed to stay in shape"
"C'mon, try them" You nudge the tray a little closer
"Only if you eat them with me"
"Deal"
You turn to grab an extra fork, resting your elbows on the table as you portion off a piece of the small pastry in front of you, careful to create the perfect bite,
"Wait, you need to get some of the jam"
"You're telling me how to eat?"
"It has to be perfect"
You use your fork to push some jam onto his piece, nodding to yourself in satisfaction, he takes a quick glance behind him to see if anyone is watching before lifting his mask just slightly, revealing his lips, your eyes linger on them for a little too long, the soft arch of them, their plush pink tint.
"This is amazing"
His praise breaks your trance, your hand covering your mouth as you smile, hiding the food inside it, "I told you"
"You're right, I'll never doubt you again"
You let out a giggle and this time he can't hide his smile, a small dimple forming beside his lips as they curve, you could watch him smile all day.
"This might be strange but, what are you doing later," You ask with a breath of confidence,
"Working off all this sugar you're feeding me"
"What about you skip the workout and meet me here at seven?"
"I'd like that"
You bite back a smile, "Great"
You pack the remaining treats in a small bag, handing it to him before bidding him goodbye, your senses focused solely on him, completely ignorant of the line of customers forming in front of your eyes.
It's a panicked few hours around the cafe, rushing to fill orders, tidying the kitchen, and attempting to find time to fix yourself up before Simon arrived.
The bell atop the door rang at 6:53, apparently, he was insistent on being early, he calls out for you, your voice echoing from the kitchen as he makes his way behind the counter.
"Hey, you're early"
"You're a mess" His eyes scan over your flour-clad form, your hair a mess as your palms dig into a circle of dough.
"Had to get some orders done before tomorrow, wanna help?"
"Not sure how good I'll be"
"Please, I could use your muscles"
"Alright," He rolls his sleeves up his arm, revealing his tattoo before reaching behind him to grab an apron, securing it around his form. You erupt in a fit of laughter as you turn your gaze to him,
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing just, never pictured you in an apron covered in tulips and daisies"
"You saying it looks bad?"
"No, you look perfect," You say, fighting back your laughter, "Okay, grab a piece and start pushing it with your palms, just like this" You demonstrate the move to him, his curious eyes watching intently as you knead the dough, sprinkling bits of flour on it.
"Got it" He places a circle of dough on the table, dropping some flour onto it before digging his palms in, quickly turning to you with worried eyes as his hand forces a hole in the centre.
"Maybe not so tough, try like this" You position yourself next to him, your sides pressing against each other as you rest your hands atop him, guiding them into the dough, your gentle fingers intertwining with his.
"Got it?"
He shakes his head lightly, "I think you need to show me again"
You laugh lightly, the sound warming his chest as you slowly release your touch, urging him to work, "That's better, I have to make some icing so I'll be over there for a minute"
You move from his side, wiping your hands on your apron before standing in front of the large mixer, he watches as you struggle to lift the large bag of powdered sugar, dropping his task to help you. He lifts the bag with ease, watching as you release a small breath of gratitude,
"Wait not all at... once" Your instructions come too late, he dumps the entire bag into the bowl, a cloud of sugar enveloping the room as you drop your head in laughter.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't know"
You raise your hands, palms to the roof as you smile, "It's okay, kinda looks like snow"
"Kind of"
His gaze softens as you close your ears, tilting your neck back and slightly sticking your tongue out, allowing the sugar to settle on the muscle, the sweetness dancing over your tastebuds.
You smile, lifting your head back up and opening your eyes, he's watching you with such adoration in his eyes, his heart swelling out of his chest, he'd never met anyone that maintained such a wonder in themselves, you were so warm, so kind, he'd always been punished for mistakes but the sight of you unknowingly creating a happy memory out of one of his mishaps has his brain rewiring.
He doesn't think, just reaches for you, one hand lifting his mask while the other grabs at your waist, tugging you into him, his lips crash into yours as if his addiction to sweets wasn't enough, you literally tasted like sugar, he couldn't get enough. His free hand moving to cup your jaw, his thumb swiping over the skin as you press yourself into him, your gentle hands settling around his arms as he holds you close.
It's intoxicating, his taste, his scent, tobacco, vanilla, and sugar, you had managed to escape the consequences of a sweet tooth until now, this was a taste you'd never get sick of.
He pulls back with a heavy breath, his chest rising against yours as he rests his forehead against yours, that beautiful smile beaming back at you as your flesh ignites under his touch.
"Kiss me like that again and I'll give you all the baked goods you want"
He lets out a laugh, a genuine laugh, one he hasn't heard in years before pressing his lips to yours again, smiling against your skin as the sugar settles around the two of you, cloaking the room in a soft white dust.
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stellar-constellations · 3 months ago
Text
Star Patient: Chapter 8 (FINISHED SERIES)
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WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), descriptions of self-harming, accusations of cheating, child death, death of major and minor characters, OC's are used throughout the story for plot and depth, reader is in denial and paranoid, toxic family dynamics, perversive thoughts, reader is bipolar (not saying that in a quirky way, like literally bipolar), religious comparisons, light mention of demons, stalkers, nonconsensual drugging, minor implication of necrophilia, possibly more to add.
Inaccurate canon-timeline and setting (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents). They also live in America (because I wasn't aware they lived in Europe prior to this series).
Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.
Incest is not Wincest.
Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:
Wordcount: 17,700+ words
Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, current chapter, final chapter.
Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!
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(Y/N) woke up from her sleep, tired and disoriented. She felt a warm presence holding her, and looked up to see Andrew. Andrew's hand was placed on her head, his other arm wrapped tightly around her body, holding her close in a protective manner. 
        (Y/N) tried to carefully sneaking out of his hold, but it was to no use. She didn't want to wake him up, so she just resorted to lying there. She looked at her clock, noticing it was 8 A.M, far earlier than she'd like to be up by.
        She looked over at Andrew and smiled. It's funny how she enjoys this practical stranger's company far more than she enjoyed Ren's, but I guess the difference between them is Ren was a stalker who didn't have any boundaries, and Andrew wasn't. 
        (Y/N) mentally gushed over his handsome face, resisting the urge to giggle as she saw drool on his lips.
        What? She's allowed to mentally enjoy the peaceful sight. Who cares if he's a murderer staying with her rent free and she murdered his sister. She doesn't have many peaceful things in her life, shut up and let her enjoy this moment before her life goes to hell once more!
        She remembered that her parents had spent the night, and that (Y/N) had express-shipped a package today for Andrew. 
        (Y/N) groaned, closing her eyes for a second before reopening them. She placed her hand on Andrew's arm, shaking him until he woke up.
        "Uh... (Y/N)?" Andrew muttered, sleepily. "Something wrong...?"
        "Morning, sleeping beauty." (Y/N) teased. "Ready to start today? We have a bunch of shopping to do."
        "To spend a day with you? I'm honored." Andrew hummed sarcastically, before reaching his hand out and touching her cheek, gently pinching and tugging it. "Let's get today started, bedhead." He smirked, before ruffling her messy hair. 
        (Y/N) smiled, standing up from her bed and stretching. She grabbed Andrew's crutches and handed it to him, standing near his side until she was certain he was up and balanced. 
        "I'm going to go change. Do you need a change of clothes?" (Y/N) questioned, rummaging through her drawers. 
        "No, don't bother." Andrew hummed, picking up his clothes where he left them last night. "I'll wear what I wore yesterday."
        "Okay... but I'm warning you, I meant it when I said that you're not going to be wearing the same clothes days at a time. After today, that outfit is going inside of the laundry basket and being washed." (Y/N) spoke sternly, holding her chosen outfit in her hands.
        "Got it, mom." Andrew teased, playfully rolling his eyes at her. 
        (Y/N) smiled, before walking into her bathroom and shutting the door, locking it behind her. They were only going out today, so there wasn't any reason to dress up in diamonds and bling. She changed out of her nightgown, putting on her bra and white shirt. She threw her dirtied bandages in the trash, before adding more gauze and medical tape to cover her stitches. She left her other scarred arm exposed, considering she was no longer bleeding and it’d be a waste of resources to cover it. She put on black shorts and a pastel purple jacket, a white star on the back of her jacket. She did her hair, adding in her signature yellow star hair clip before walking out of the room. 
        Andrew was done changing, wearing his black sweater and ripped grey jeans. His hair was messy from his bedhead, so she grabbed her hair brush and handed it to him.
        "Thanks." Andrew smiled, taking the brush and brushing out his black hair.
        Even with his hair brushed, it still stuck out in places, looking very fluffy and tempting to touch.
        Burnt marshmallow fluff... (Y/N) thought, staring at his hair. 
        Andrew handed her back her brush. She set it down on her bathroom counter, before looking over at him.
        "Are you ready? I have a surprise for you." (Y/N) smiled. 
        "Nothing bad, right?" he questioned, smiling.
        "No, no. Nothing bad." (Y/N) chuckled, placing her hand on his back as she guided him to the door. "It'll be helpful for you."
        "If you say so." He smiled, fighting back the shivers her touch gave him. 
        (Y/N) opened the door and guided him down her hallway. Rose and Frank were up and sitting at the dining table, 
        Frank’s phone sitting in front of them as they studied a digital map.
        “Good morning.” (Y/N) greeted, causing Rose to look up from the phone.
        “Do you know any good breakfast spots? We’re heading back to the farm now.” Rose spoke.
        “Morning, kiddo.” Frank smiled politely, before looking back at his phone.
        “Um… there’s IHOP? I like their crepes?” (Y/N) suggested.
        “Nevermind. I shouldn’t have expected you to know much about taste…” Rose sighed, her eyes drifting to Andrew, which seemed like an insult. 
        “Thanks, Ma.” (Y/N) smiled, more on the sarcastic end.
        (Y/N) guided Andrew to the living room coach for him to sit and rest his legs. She walked over to her front door and opened it, looking around before spotting a white package. 
        Thank God a porch pirate didn’t still this. This was about 300 bucks for a good quality one on sale. (Y/N) thought, crouching and picking up the box. 
        She carried the box inside, placing it down on the living room floor. She grabbed knife from her kitchen, cutting open the box and pulling out a plastic bag with something inside of it. Andrew looked curious, but was unsure if he was allowed to question her on what she bought.
        (Y/N) ripped open the bag, placing the object on the ground as she skimmed over the instructions. She got the gist, and grabbed the object, pulling it apart until it unfolded in a wheelchair. 
        “Ta-dah!” (Y/N) smiled. “I noticed you were struggling with those crutches, perhaps you had gotten used to wheelchairs at the hospital. I don’t blame you, they can tire out your arms quicker. I didn't want you having to apply pressure on your legs while they're trying to heal either.”
        Andrew smiled, placing his crutches down on the side as he looked at her. He was moved that she thought about his comfortability like that.
        "Thanks... but you didn't have to. I'm sure I could've managed." Andrew spoke, watching as she adjusted some screws and locks to keep the wheelchair from collapsing. 
        "Hey, don't worry about it. I want you to be comfortable." (Y/N) spoke. "Besides, we need your legs to heal after all." She added, testing out the wheelchair by placing her hands down on the chair, applying pressure to see if it’d collapse. “Here, test it out.” She smiled, turning the chair to his direction, wheeling it up to the couch.
        She placed her hand on his shoulder, her other hand wavering close to his waist in case he needed assistance. Andrew stood up using his crutches, before moving over to the wheelchair, sitting down on it. 
        “I paid extra for it to have brakes on it, that way you don’t have to burn your hands to stop.” (Y/N) explained, taking his crutches and resting them on the couch. 
        “Really now? How much?” Andrew questioned, tilting his head over at her.
        “Don’t worry about it.” (Y/N) smiled, ignoring the question. 
        “That’s a more fancy looking wheelchair than the movies.” Frank chirped, walking into the living room. “Hey, how’d you even break your legs? I’ve seen your legs move, so you’re not paralyzed waist down.”
        Andrew paused, looking over at Frank hesitantly.
        What’s he supposed to tell him? That he jumped off a building a few stories high? That’s a bit personal, and in a sense, humiliating.
        “A car accident about a week back.” (Y/N) jumped in, placing her hand on his back in a silent reassurance. “It’s was some shattering, but he seems to be healing up quick!” 
        “Yeah. It was a nasty car accident.” Andrew nodded, playing along. 
        “That sucks…” Frank commented, before looking down at his legs. “Does it hurt?”
        “Obviously it hurts, Frank.” Rose scoffed, entering the living room. “He shattered his bones.” 
        “Well, maybe he has strong opioids! Or maybe he’s superhuman, like Hulk or something…” Frank spoke.
        “I wish.” Andrew chuckled. “It hurts, but it’s not terrible…”
        (Y/N) looked over at him with a concerned expression. She had completely forgotten that he should’ve been taking pain meds, but Andrew looked to be the guy to tough it out (much to any nurse’s annoyance).
        “Hey, do you need any meds?” (Y/N) questioned. “I have some. They’re not the strong kind but they can help?” 
        “Nah, don’t worry about it.” Andrew smiled. “This wheelchair helps me a lot already.” 
        “If you say so…” (Y/N) muttered, concerned.
        “Oh, (Y/N). We need to talk before I leave.” Rose spoke, sitting down on the couch, gesturing for (Y/N) to sit next to her.
        “Yes, Mama…” (Y/N) nodded, a bit hesitant before sitting down next to her.
        “You boys go on git for a few seconds. Go outside on the balcony or something.” Rose ordered to the boys.
        “Why can’t we stay?” Andrew questioned, a sort of annoyance fizzing in his stomach and chest.
        “Cause this doesn’t concern the likes of you.” Rose scoffed.
        “C’mon, you heard the lady.” Frank spoke, before forcing Andrew out of the room by pushing his wheelchair, taking him out to the balcony.
        “So?” Rose hummed, crossing her legs together, placing her hands on her lap. “Tell me, how has your job been going babysitting?”
        “Nursing.” (Y/N) corrected, though she knew Rose said that on purpose. “And it’s been very fun. New things everyday. No repetition. There’s always something to do.” (Y/N) explained. “And of course, the kids are absolute sweethearts.” 
        “Right” Rose hummed.
        “I’m studying more. I’m continuing college and taking classes so I can up the ranks and be a pediatrician.” (Y/N) explained, crossing her arms. 
        “More money is good…” Rose nodded.
        “And you? Being a nurse?” (Y/N) questioned. “How is that for you?” 
        “Money is money, you can never have too much.” Rose smiled. “Besides, the farmhands have the farm under control. They do the work, get some pocket change, and get some money—you’ll be doing that soon too.” 
        “Is that so?" (Y/N) hummed. 
        "He wouldn't do good on the farm, you know." Rose spoke, her cold eyes trailing to (Y/N)'s. "He's a city boy—he doesn't know a thing about farming." Rose spoke, her fingers tapping her thigh impatiently. "But don't worry, I was able to ask around and I have some suitors for you. They grew up doing the farm work on their family farms, so they know how to care for the farm. They're only a town or two away from ours, so they don't know anything about your problems or what happened with Ren."
        It felt like a blood vessel popped as Rose said his name, causing (Y/N) to bite her tongue and her nails to dig into her palms. 
        "Don't you fucking talk about him." (Y/N) spat out.
        "Excuse me?" Rose exclaimed, shocked. 
        "I'm not going back home, I'm not going to inherit the farm, and I'm not going back to him so long as he breathes. I've already told you this, Mama." (Y/N) hissed. 
        "You need to let go of the past. You need to get over your denial and understand that you were the one that killed that boy, not Ren." Rose spoke, pointing her finger at her. "You just don't remember because you have that stupid fucking curse just like your father."
        "It's not a curse; it's a disorder." (Y/N) scoffed. "You're a nurse. The least you can do is understand what patients you'll have to deal with."
        "Whether you like it or not, you're going to take over that farm. You're the only existing (L/N) and my family name will not die off because of your selfishness." Rose spat. "The farm will be written in your name when I die, it'll be in my will. You're going to marry a farmer, and you're going to take over the farm until you produce a child with my last name who is actually grateful for the opportunities the farm gives them."
        "No, I'm not." (Y/N) hissed. "I didn't just move out of home to hide, I came here to be seen." (Y/N) spoke. "This is where I belong. Nursing is where I belong. My coworkers are amazing and they don't judge me like you. The kids are absolutely fantastic and so, so smart. So much smarter than you! Even the kids' parents are better than you when they throw fits because at least they care for their children's health!"
        "You're an attention seeker. You're selfish. You're incompetent. You're nothing without my last name." Rose hissed, clenching her fist as she stood up from her seat. "If you don't open your eyes and realize that soon enough, that boy is going to run away from you as soon as he can walk!" 
        "No, he won't!" (Y/N) exclaimed, sitting up from her seat. "Andrew's not going to leave me."
        I won't let him. She thought. 
        “You’re delusional if you think he’d actually stay with you as you are.” Rose laughed. “You’re practically nothing without the farm! No money, student loans—you’re nothing but the embodiment of paranoia and guilt. You have it worse than your father.” 
        “You are not going to disrespect me under my own roof, Rose.” (Y/N) hissed, clenching her fists.
        “I’m your mother.” Rose scoffed. “And I’m not disrespecting you, I’m guiding you! I’m trying to give you a good life and you’re being a brat about it!” 
        “Oh, excuse me for choosing what I want to do in my own life.” (Y/N) scoffed.
        “If you chose what you want, you'd be dead!” Rose exclaimed. “I have to make decisions for you because you’ll kill yourself otherwise!” 
        It stung to hear that, a piercing knife stabbing through (Y/N)’s heart that couldn’t be pulled out without causing more damage. It hurt to know she was such a burden, and it hurt even more to know that Rose was—in a sense—right.
        "I decided all of this; not you!” (Y/N) shouted, her arms opening up as she gestured to everything around her. “I left the farm on my own, I was homeless for months on my own, I got a job on my own, I made money on my own, I got into college on my own. I don’t need you to make decisions for me!” 
        “You have no experience in life, you can’t even commit to living your life!” Rose spoke. “You don’t know anything about life because you’re so close-minded. One day you’re going to wake up alone in bed without that little boy and wish you would’ve listened to me because that’s not a man out there, that’s a boy! He’ll leave you as soon as his legs heal, and you’ll come crawling back to me about how I was right, and that you’ll marry one of those farm boys and live a lavish life with raspberries and riches!” Rose blabbered, rambling on about her fantasy.
        “You don’t get to decide that!” (Y/N) spat out, her hands reaching out to grab her own hair anxiously, tugging on it from the claustrophobic pressure.
        “You can’t even talk to me like a normal person without freaking out! What makes you think that you can even make decisions for yourself if you can’t even take care of yourself?” Rose hissed, pointing her finger accusingly at (Y/N).
        “I am normal—I just have a few extra steps to me!” (Y/N) spoke, exasperated. “Mama, I’m not going to take the farm. I’m not going back. I’m not marrying those damn farm boys you want! I don’t need your generational wealth!”
        “It doesn’t matter what you say, it’ll be in my will.” Rose retorted.
        “You give me that farm and I’ll sell it!” (Y/N) hissed. 
        Rose’s face dropped, surprised, before it hardened once more.
        “You know, I’ve made plenty of decisions in my life; but marrying your father and having you was by far the worst. It haunts me to this day.” Rose spat out. “Your father has complicated my life, but you’re the one who's completely destroyed it.” 
        “Stop it, Ma.” (Y/N) spoke, gritting her teeth.
        “Even though you’re out of town, I still have to pay for your actions. It’s my family’s farm and reputation on the line. My last name is slandered because of you. I can’t even go to the grocery store without getting nasty looks. I’ve been kicked out of church, my own damn religion and identity rejects me because of your actions. Those pesky kids in town are burning my berry bushes and stoning my chickens and throwing rocks at my windows. I can’t talk to the other mothers, or even try to talk to Ben’s mother., all because of you and your father.” Rose spoke.
        Another stab to her heart, guilt overwhelming her. Even if she wasn’t the one holding the stones, she was still the target; Rose was just unfortunate enough to be caught in the crossfire. Even if it wasn't her fault, nobody will believe the freak show's daughter over the jail warden's son. 
        After all, you wouldn't expect your son to be a bad person until he is. Ren being the warden's son only gave him an advantage in life to break the law. Maybe his father believes that Ren could "straighten" or "stray the path" of (Y/N)'s away from the Devil (her disorder) to where she wouldn't be a freak. Either way, Ren will inherit his family's jailhouse just like (Y/N) will inherit her family's farm. A normal civilian can't vote for who inherits the jailhouse or farm, only the previous owner can; and it looks like Ren isn't being put off that will anytime soon.
        “Why don’t you move away? Start a new farm?” (Y/N) questioned.
        “Because I don’t run away from my problems, unlike you.” Rose hissed.
        No, that wasn’t the truth. The truth was Rose’s home was at the line. Her money was at the line. Relocating and having to renew all her crops, find a large enough piece of land with a similar climate, hire new and experienced farmhands; all of that would be too tedious for Rose's liking.
        “You’ve made my own home unsafe.” Rose spoke. “And I hope you die for it.” 
        “Please get out of my house, Mama.” (Y/N) pleaded.
        “House? House? You can’t even call it a home because you don’t have one! You’re welcomed nowhere!” Rose shouted. “Even after you took my home you have the audacity to claim you don’t have one! It’s right under your nose!”
        (Y/N) didn’t know whether to cry, scream back, or run. She felt nauseous and weak, any second longer and she might puke on the ground. 
        There was a feeling of fear too, even though there was no immediate threat. Maybe it was the fear of her feelings, or maybe it was just the urge to run again—whatever it was, it was overpowering.
        (Y/N) didn’t want to put her hands on her own mother, that’d be disrespectful even if she was being slandered herself.  
        Even if she hates her mother; she loves her too.
        “It’s time to go, Mama.” (Y/N) sighed. “Go eat breakfast with Papa.”
        “Don’t tell me what to do.” Rose hissed. “I’m going to go get lunch now instead!”
        So petty.
        (Y/N) mentally rolled her eyes, walking to the balcony to get the men.
        The pair of boys stopped their conversation, their heads turned to the door. They both had an expression verging on confused, concerned, and surprised. 
        “Papa, you need to leave. Me and Andrew have plans today.” (Y/N) spoke, opening the door.
        .
        .
        “C’mon, you heard the lady.” Frank spoke, before forcing Andrew out of the room by pushing his wheelchair, taking him out to the balcony.
        Andrew reluctantly turned his head to the pair of women. The pair held poker faces, but there was tension in the air even before their conversation started. 
        Frank opened the balcony and pushed Andrew out with him, closing the balcony door. They stood on the balcony together, looking down at the dirty city. 
        “I really hate places like this…” Frank sighed, leaning on the balcony railing. 
        “Uh… yeah. I guess it’s not pretty.” Andrew agreed hesitantly.
        Even though he did agree, he was more concerned of Frank throwing him off the railing 2 stories high. Sure the drop wasn’t too far down, but 20 feet is 20 feet, and if he lands on his head wrong, he’s not so sure he’ll get back up this time.
        Frank fumbled in his back pocket, before pulling out a box of cigarettes.
        “You smoke?” he questioned, shaking the box as an offer. 
        “Yeah.” Andrew nodded.
        Frank opened the box and pulled out two cigarettes, handing Andrew one. Andrew just realized that Frank was missing a finger, a clean nub where the bones should be. Andrew doesn't know what Frank works as, but he can only guess it's a factory or a manual labor job.
        Frank grabbed his Zippo lighter, flipping the cover and spinning the flint wheel till it sparked and fire appeared. He lit his cigarette, then Andrew’s.
        “If I smoke by Rose, she’ll chew me out.” Frank hummed, exhaling smoke. “She doesn’t like the smell. Says it sticks on my clothes. 
        The mention of third-hand smoke made Andrew pause, looking down at the cigarette he was about to put in his mouth and hesitating.
        “Actually… you can keep this…” Andrew spoke, smudging the end of the cigarette so it went out. “I don’t want to smell bad in the car with (Y/N).” He spoke, holding the cigarette out.
        “Thoughtful, huh?” Frank chuckled, taking the stick and placing it back in his cigarette box. “I stop caring about that 20 years ago.” 
        “You’ve been smoking that long?” Andrew questioned, surprised.
        “You're bound to pick it up after dealing with that woman.” Frank huffed. “(Y/N)’s got her moments too.” 
        “She does?” Andrew responded, surprised.
        (Y/N)? Really? He’d be shocked if she even raised her voice. Even when he was yelling and shaking her back at the hospital, she didn’t try fighting or talking back, just cowered.
        “Yeah.” Frank nodded. “Though, we all have our moments.”
        “What’s hers?” Andrew questioned before he could think.
        “What’s yours?” Frank retorted.
        Andrew opened his mouth to speak, before deciding to just shut up. Yeah, he’d rather not talk about his moments either.  
        “Touché…” Andrew nodded, crossing his arms.
        “Do you have any farming experience?” Frank questioned.
        Andrew looked at him funny, caught off-guard from the unexpected question. “No… why? Is that on the job requirement?” Andrew chuckled, making a poor joke. 
        “Rose has a family farm, and it’ll be in (Y/N)’s name when she dies.” Frank spoke. “So, Rose is pretty adamant on a guy who can farm.”
        “So?” Andrew questioned. “I mean, does (Y/N) even want that? Why is she even in the city as a nurse if she’s supposed to take over the farm?”
        “She doesn’t want it.” Frank smiled, taking an inhale of his nicotine, before exhaling. “Acres upon acres of land. Selling the land is hundred thousands, maybe even a few million. But selling the land with the family business included, that’s a guaranteed 5 million or more.” 
        If Andrew was smoking a cigarette, he’d be choking on smoke now—well, even without a cigarette in his mouth, he was practically choking on his spit, shocked.
        “W-wait—ack—really?!” he gasped, coughing. 
        “Yeah.” Frank smirked, proud as if he was the one bestowing upon his daughter a fortune. “But she doesn’t want it.”
        “Why?” Andrew questioned, his jaw dropped.
        Who the hell would reject that much money? He thought.
        “I don’t know.” Frank shrugged. “I don’t care what her reasoning is. If she doesn’t want it, she doesn’t want it. I’m not going to try and get an answer. Sometimes you just gotta follow what your heart says.” 
        Andrew looked over at Frank, before groaning. 
        “That’s… kind of stupid.” Andrew commented.
        “You just don’t have the heart to understand it.” Frank hummed, tapping the end of his cigarette, watching as grey ashes fell from the burning end of the stick.
        "Can I ask you something?" Andrew spoke up.
        "Is it stupid?" Frank questioned. 
        "Maybe?" Andrew chuckled, but his voice held a sense of nervousness. 
        "Shoot." Frank nodded his head Andrew's way, telling Andrew to proceed. 
        "Why do you stay with Rose?" Andrew questioned. "No offense, but she's kind of... a bitch."
        Andrew sure was bold...
        Frank hissed, gritting his teeth like the question physically hurt him. 
        "Ah... Sometimes I wonder that myself." Frank grumbled, raising his cigarette to his mouth, inhaling as he thought, before he blew out the smoke. "I think I stay because it feels natural." 
        "Natural?" Andrew repeated, confused. 
        "When you stay with someone for so long, their bad qualities just seem like qualities in your life." Frank sighed. "A routine builds, and overtime, you just follow that routine on reflex. Every bad thing just feels like second-nature to you... There’s not much for people like me in this world, so I have to take what I can get." Frank cleared his throat and smiled. "But hey, maybe that's just natural for me."
        Andrew turned his attention back out to the city, staring down at the people who walked on the streets, talking on their phones or window-shopping. 
        "No, I think I understand you." Andrew nodded.
        Sure, he can't relate 100%, but he thinks he knows what Frank means. If Andrew actually remembered what happened before quarantine, maybe he’d have a better understanding.
        What he does know from now, is that his past self was stitched to Ashley’s side; who sewed who together, he’s still unsure. 
        Ashley’s made him do tons of bad things as far as he’s aware of. He’s had to kill people, eat people, sacrifice people to summon demons; he doesn’t know where the bad ends and the good begins in himself.
        Maybe his past self was just used to Ashley’s ways too, that it felt normal just as Rose’s ways feel normal to Frank.
        But if that’s the case, where does (Y/N) fall in?
        Andrew sighed, a knife of guilt stabbing his chest as he stared out at the city.
        Jesus, where was Ashley? She was still missing. He hasn’t seen her in at least three or four days now. Or has it been a week? Shit, he can’t remember? Why can’t he remember how long it’s been? That’s his sister for goodness sake, where is she? Is she okay? 
        The mens’ attention were turned to the closed balcony door, they could hear yelling, but they couldn’t hear exactly what they were shouting about.
        “Don’t worry much about it, it’s not too rare for those two.” Frank sighed. 
        Pushover. Andrew thought to himself, his eyebrows furrowed as he contemplated if he should go in there or not. He’d rather not (Y/N) get hurt, and he doesn’t want any neighbors to be curious of them and accidentally discover his identity. 
        “Shouldn’t you do something? It is your family in there.” Andrew spoke up.
        “I believe that problem is their problem.” Frank hummed, inhaling his addictive substance. “I don’t have nothing to do with it because I’m not welcome in their girl talk.” 
        “Seriously?” Andrew scoffed, annoyed at Frank’s lack of concern for the pair of women. “If they fight so much, shouldn’t you be the voice of reason?” 
        “It’s not worth getting chewed out for.” Frank retorted, exhaling smoke. “Life works in mysterious ways. It’ll resolve or it won’t, it’s as simple as that.” 
        Andrew rolled his eyes. He’d chew Frank out himself if he wasn’t currently wheelchair-bound.
        “But… I’m worried for her.” Frank admitted, looking out to the city. “I’m afraid she’ll end up like me. Or worse.” 
        Andrew tilted his head to Frank, unsure if he should try and pry into that or not.
        The balcony door suddenly ripped opened, (Y/N) appearing there as she peered at the two men. Her face held a frown and her skin was pale. She bit her bottom lip anxiously, her eyebrows furrowed before she spoke:
        “Papa, you need to leave. Me and Andrew have plans today.” 
        “Right. I still remember.” Frank sighed, pressing his cigarette’s burning end to the balcony railing, smushing the fire out. 
        Frank walked back into the apartment as Andrew followed, wheeling himself inside. (Y/N) shut the balcony doors and locked them tightly, before looking over at her parents.
        “Well, it was lovely to see you again. Thank you for stopping by and checking up on me, it means a lot.” (Y/N) forced a smile, clasping her hands together. 
        “Anytime, kiddo.” Frank smiled, before it dropped. “Okay, well, maybe not anytime. I mean, we don’t want you getting hurt again. And gas is pretty expensive too…” 
        “I’ll make sure to be more careful for now on.” (Y/N) reassured. 
        “Let’s go, Frank. I want to get lunch now.” Rose huffed, grabbing her husband’s arm.
        “Be safe. I love you, Papa, Mama.” (Y/N) smiled.
        (Y/N) gave a goodbye hug to her father, before going for a hug from Rose, but Rose refused as she walked out the door swiftly.
        “Ah, you know her…” Frank sighed, before walking over and shaking Andrew’s hand. “You know, Andrew. You’ve been looking pretty familiar this whole time I’ve seen you, but I just haven’t been able to put my finger on it until now…”
        Fuck. (Y/N) and Andrew thought at the same time.
        While Andrew thought his identity and crimes were a secret, (Y/N) was aware of them; however, she wasn’t willing to turn him in, having a sort of strange pull from him to her. If Frank somehow knew about Andrew, then why is he telling them this?
        “I-I do?” Andrew stuttered, nervous as his face paled, a struggling smile painting his lips.
        “Yeah, you look like my future son-in-law!” Frank cackled, letting go of Andrew’s hand.
        Andrew practically deflated of air as it escaped his mouth, glad to have not had his suspicions right.
        “D-do I?” he chuckled, breathless as he got over his previous scare.
        “Jesus, Papa… Don’t go saying things like that.” (Y/N) breathed, releasing her own breath she had held in. “You might scare him off by talking about such topics so early into our relationship…”
        “I just had to have the last word.” Frank shrugged, smirking before he walked out the front door and down the apartment stairs. “Nice meeting you, Andrew. Stay safe, (Y/N). I love you, sport!”
        (Y/N) smiled, waving her hand as she watched Frank hop into his pickup truck, Rose sitting in the passenger seat with the AC blowing. Frank drove out of the parking lot as the couple watched them leave. 
        “So…” (Y/N) sighed, her forced smile dropping as she looked back at Andrew. “You wanna out now? Get some lunch then go shopping for some clothes?”
        “Yeah. Sounds like a plan.” Andrew nodded, smiling.
        .
        .         Andrew always knew the stereotype that girls love shopping. He recalls Ashley browsing through the Internet during quarantine, saving a link of a cute choker from Hot Topic or searching the web high and low for a cheap pair of Doc Martens. 
        He was under the impression girls liked shopping for themselves, but (Y/N) proved him wrong with how much shirts and pants she kept adding to their basket. 
        She didn’t like shopping for herself—she liked shopping for him. 
        Andrew had a basket full of clothes sitting on his lap, another basket hanging off (Y/N)’s arm as she held up a shirt, bringing it to Andrew’s chest as she pictured him in it, before she threw the shirt into her basket.
        “Jesus, (Y/N). Don’t you think this is enough?” Andrew groaned.
        He was being to understand why kids complained about back to school shopping with their mothers at Old Navy. If his legs weren’t broken and he was standing throughout this whole ordeal, he’s certain his legs would be cramping and he would sit down on the dirty public floor with no shame.
        “No way. You’re staying with me, so you gotta be set.” (Y/N) spoke, feeling the fabrics to make sure they were comfortable and that it matched her taste.
        “Maybe we’ll go to a few more stores after this.” (Y/N) hummed. “Like, we can go somewhere you’d be into. Perhaps you’d like those sarcastic shirts from Spencer’s.” (Y/N) teased, giggling.
        “Ha ha.” Andrew laughed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 
        He’s not sure exactly what his style is, he just likes being comfortable—then again, he kept rotating between two or three shirts a week during quarantine. Anything after quarantine, he doesn’t remember, so he doesn’t recall what his favorite clothing store is.
        “I can’t remember what my favorite store is…” Andrew admitted, a sort of sorrowful look in his eyes.
        (Y/N) noticed his gaze and halted her movement. “Well… we’ll just have to find a new favorite store.” She smiled. “You seem to like dark and comfy clothes, let’s try my favorite sweatshirt shop after this. They have sweatpants there are to die for! You might find something you like." 
        "Nah, don't bother..." Andrew muttered.
        He still felt a little iffy about this. It felt weird having someone spend money on him like this, much less someone he hasn't known for even a week yet—much less his former nurse who's now housing him. He already feels awkward enough having to bother her for shelter (even if she was the one that did suggest it), so he feels even worse having her buy him clothes. 
        (Y/N) heard his words, but willingly ignored him; either way, she was still going to end up going into that store, that was inevitable. 
        "Here, why don't you try some of these on while I continue browsing?" (Y/N) suggested. "Don't be afraid to tell me what you do and don't like. I'd rather buy you something you'd enjoy and wear, okay?" 
        "What? You're not going to help me change?" Andrew teased, smiling. "I am limited, you know."
        "Oh please, you changed into your clothes just fine this morning." (Y/N) spoke, rolling her eyes playfully at his teasing.
        "Worth a shot." Andrew shrugged, smirking before wheeling himself into the changing rooms, shutting and locking the door behind him. 
        (Y/N) looked around at the clothes surrounding them. Surprisingly, it was hard trying to find clothes or colors that fit Andrew's style. Having a white shirt causes a weird contrast between his hair, and not in a good way. Bright and vibrant colors such as yellows, reds, and oranges were an automatic no, it made him look far too pale. Blues and purples made him look a bit silly; a dark blue could work, but the plain color just matches his eyes poorly. It was like Andrew was made for boring, monochromatic colors. She relied on blacks and greys, but she was able to find a dark green flannel that worked. Flannels and sweaters seemed to be the only thing that looked good on him, which was pretty unfortunate considering he has such a handsome face. 
        (Y/N) pondered if she should stop at just clothes. She doesn’t mind getting cologne and bath products, maybe a pair of shoes too. 
        She started wondering what scents Andrew would be into. Mint, lemon, pine tree, a mix of all three? Maybe he likes more woodsy and musky scents? Or maybe he likes the more citrusy scents? Perhaps beach-like and sandalwood? Maybe an infusion of all? 
        (Y/N) heard the store’s bell ring, signaling a customer entered the store. She looked over at the door, her heart dropping once she saw who it was.
        “No fucking way…” she whispered to herself, almost hissing as she gritted her teeth.
        A mix of annoyance and fear brewed inside of her. She quickly looked around for a place to hide, before ducking into the clothing rack and hiding there. 
        Please, please. To anyone above listening to this. Please don’t let them see Andrew. Please don’t let them see me. Please don’t let them see us together… (Y/N) practically pleaded, looking up into the sky and pressing her hands together in a prayer. 
        There was silence for a few moments, followed by the store’s bell ringing; either signaling another customer entering, or exiting.
        (Y/N) peeked through the clothing, seeing nothing except a small boy and his mother shopping together.
        There was a few taps of what sounded like heeled shoes, before the clothing rack was ripped open, causing a surprised yelp to escape (Y/N)’s lips.
        The perpetrator's strawberry blonde hair glistened brightly under the store lights, her glossed pink lips in a wide smile as her eyes sparkled. 
        “(Y/N)!” Penelope beamed, smiling widely. 
        “H-hey, Pen…” (Y/N) smiled, nervous as she stood up fully from her crouched position behind the clothing racks. 
        “What are you doing there, silly?” Penelope questioned, opening the clothes wider for (Y/N) to exit.
        “I dropped my pen. It’s somewhere now…” (Y/N) lied, shoving her hands into her jacket as she stepped out into the aisle. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t important. I can just buy a new one.” 
        “So, what are you here shopping for in the men’s section?” Penelope questioned, smiling.
        “Just… looking for a new jacket.” (Y/N) muttered, coming up with an excuse. 
        “Really?” Penelope hummed, looking down  at the jacket (Y/N) wore. “I don’t… think that the men's section exactly matches your style? They don’t have much pastels or stars here.”
        “Just hoping I would be lucky.” (Y/N) smiled. “I just like the more oversized things, I guess.. They actually have pockets.” She spoke, before redirecting her attention back to Penelope. “So, why are you here in the men's clothing section?”
        “Oh, you know!” Penelope laughed. “My husband needs some new clothes so I’m just here looking for some. I know what looks better on him.”
        A nauseating pit formed in (Y/N)’s stomach as she forced herself to smile. (Y/N) forced herself to look down at Penelope's ring finger, but she couldn't find a ring on it. 
        (Y/N) doesn't like Penelope much, even if they do have a "friendship." She hangs out with Penelope outside of work merely for her social image, and so hopefully if she went missing, Penelope would at least tell the police. Though, with what Penelope's done in the past, it's hard to believe Penelope would even walk 100 meters near a police station. 
        “Husband, huh?” (Y/N) spoke, resisting the urge to cringe. “That’s lovely… Um, where is he?”
        “He’s at home. Don’t worry about him.” Penelope smiled, the corner of her lip twitching slightly, threatening to fall. 
        “Right.” (Y/N) muttered. “Well, nice seeing you…” She spoke, turning around to quickly walk away to the other side of the store, but Penelope grabbed her arm, stopping her.
        “Wait, I completely forgot to ask you! I’m so inconsiderate!” Penelope frowned. “How are you holding up? Are you feeling better after what happened?” 
        “Oh yeah… as dandy as ever.” (Y/N) forced a smile. “You ain’t gotta worry about me. I’ll be back at work in just a few short weeks.”
        “Speaking of work, Hailey’s parents stopped by recently.” Penelope spoke, causing (Y/N)’s smile to drop.
        “Crap, what did they say? How are they holding up?” (Y/N) questioned, suddenly interested in the conversation. 
        "Well, Mrs. Burnson didn't take the news well, neither did Mr. Burnson. But then again, who does take the death of their kid well?" Penelope sighed. 
        "Yeah, you can say that again." (Y/N) sighed.
        It's natural for parents to grieve over their children and become aggressive in those circumstances. Something as traumatic as that can drive anyone insane. The parents might blame themselves or the hospital staff. A few months ago, (Y/N) had to break the news of a patient's death to their parents. The child was three-years-old and died from a case of severe pneumonia. Promptly after receiving the news, security had to be called once the mother started choking out (Y/N). 
        Yeah, not so fun times. 
        "Oh, they were mad. After receiving the body and hosting a funeral a few days later, they came back to the hospital and barged through the front lobby looking for you, but they were promptly detained by security and the police came and arrested them." Penelope explained.
        "That's horrible..." (Y/N) frowned.
        Hailey's death was hard on everyone. It hurt pretty bad for (Y/N), but that's to be expected considering she was Hailey's nurse for three years. It would be worse on her parents. Even if the parents did constantly travel for work, (Y/N) still felt they should've visited Hailey more, maybe with their presence, Hailey's emotional health would've healed a bit. There are studies between depressed patients dying more often than those surrounded by family, friends, and support. But (Y/N) can't reverse time nor tell a parent how to parent, so the possibility of Hailey's death being different (or nonexistent) will just remain as a alternative outcome based on the events. 
        There's a possibility Doctor Ryan also feels a sense of despair or sorrow with Hailey gone, considering Hailey has been Doctor Ryan's patient for about just the same time as she was (Y/N)'s. When (Y/N) returns to work, she'll make sure to check up on him.
        "Hey, we should shop together." Penelope suggested, trying to lighten up the pitiful mood. "We couldn't hang out due to your accident, but we can hang out now that you're up on your feet!"
        "Oh, I would love too." (Y/N) smiled, looking away as she tried to come up with a lie. "But actually, I have to get home and cook dinner..."
        "We can have dinner together!" Penelope suggested, smiling.
        "Oh, but I'm put on a diet so it'll just be boring soup." (Y/N) added.
        "That's fine. I like soup!" Penelope reaffirmed. 
        "I can't because—"
        (Y/N) was cut off by the sound of the fitting room door creaking open, following by rubber grazing against the tile. Penelope's eyes traveled behind (Y/N), surprised. 
        God fucking damn it. (Y/N) thought internally.
        She sucked in a breath before turning to look at the wheelchair-bound male.
        Andrew's eyes focused on Penelope, a feeling of annoyance creeping up behind him..
        Why the hell was she here? Does this shop look like a damn hospital? Why was she here talking with (Y/N)?
        "These fit. Ready to go?" Andrew spoke, ignoring Penelope's existence.
        Andrew talking to her just confirmed that the two came here together, which looks pretty bad on (Y/N)'s part.
        "Yeah..." (Y/N) nodded, looking over to see Penelope's expression.
        Penelope's eyes were wide, shocked as she kept glancing at Andrew and her fellow co-worker. She fiddled with her purse strap nervously, before clearing her throat.
        "Um... (Y/N). You're aware of the hospital policies, right?" Penelope questioned, frowning. "What are you doing with a former patient? Having any sort of connection outside of the hospital is strictly frowned upon and can result in termination!" 
        "Penelope, I can explain." (Y/N) hissed, lowering her voice so the other shoppers nearby can't eavesdrop. 
        "I thought you said to leave him—"
        Right. Penelope knows Andrew's secret just as (Y/N) does. (Y/N) was barely able to convince (bully) Penelope using extortion to keep her quiet when she confronted her at the hospital. She had implanted the idea that Andrew might attack the other patients if either her or Penelope sent a tip to the police, but now that they were out of the hospital, in public with (Y/N) going clothes shopping for him like nothing was wrong—this would definitely look suspicious to Penelope. 
        Something needs to be done before Penelope's big mouth goes and tells someone who will go to the police.
        "Penelope!" (Y/N) snapped, her lips contorted into a strained smile. "Let's not talk about this here. We can discuss work later, yeah?" 
        Penelope's eyebrows furrowed, hesitant before she eventually sighed. "Okay, okay..." she muttered, nervous as she looked between the two. 
        "So..." (Y/N) coughed, clearing her throat as the tension between the three felt suffocating. "You said you wanted to hang out with us. We can go get boba." she suggested, although it sounded more like a demand. 
        "Y-yeah..." Penelope nodded. "Let's do that."
        .
        .
        The sky was grey, a storm brewing in the air and (Y/N)'s mind as she walked next to Andrew, Penelope at his side (she really didn't want to walk alongside Penelope at the moment). She had a medium cup in her hand, an oversized straw between her lips as she sucked a boba into her mouth, popping the fruity ball with her teeth. Her other hand rested in her jacket's pocket, making a fist as her nails dug into her flesh. 
        She watched as Andrew drank his own boba. He opted on going for the same order as (Y/N) did since he's never had boba before. He doesn't look displeased, so (Y/N) can only guess that he's satisfied with her order. 
        Penelope had a passionfruit slushie in her hand, strawberry and kiwi bobas mixed into her drink. Would that be considered an official and traditional boba, (Y/N) doesn't know nor does she care. She has other things to focus about. 
        (Y/N) observed Penelope's outfit. She wore a cute pink sweater with a white shirt underneath, and a blush red circle skirt with brown pumped boots. Sometimes (Y/N) felt envious of the way Penelope looks, how she can pull off an outfit like that. Whenever (Y/N) tries to wear something cute like that, it doesn't look cute, but childish. Maybe that's her mother Rose speaking, but it made it hard for her to put on outfits like that, only on special occasions such as when she greeted Andrew and helped him into her apartment; she always has an imaginary audience in public. 
        When (Y/N)'s not indulging in her feelings, loathing everything about the way Penelope walks to the way she talks and dresses, she's pondering how the hell she can get rid of Penelope before the girl yaps to someone about Andrew's existence.
        (Y/N) might've convinced Penelope that she would send an anonymous tip to the police to have Andrew arrested after leaving the hospital, but since Andrew was here in the flesh rolling alongside (Y/N), she really doubts Penelope will believe that now. She'll have to come up with another lie to keep Penelope at bay, but while she tries to conduct a new lie, she'll have to keep Penelope by her side at all times to prevent a slip-up. 
        "Here. This is my favorite sweats store." (Y/N) smiled, opening the door for Andrew and Penelope. "Have you gone here, Pen?" she questioned.
        She'll have to keep Penelope engaged in conversation so Penelope doesn't get lost in her head and come up with an excuse to leave. 
        "I can't say I have!" Penelope smiled, walking into the shop.
        "They’re great. Very comfortable.” (Y/N) spoke, entering the store.
        She tried to keep Penelope in small talk so that Penelope couldn’t leave, pretty much leaving Andrew to his devices (much to his dismay). 
        He stifled a yawn and looked at Penelope, annoyed before semi-looking around at the clothes. He was a bit tired, probably hitting a wave of afternoon sleepiness after having been shopping and grabbing lunch with the girls. Still, he couldn't help but he annoyed. 
        Just what the hell was so interesting about Penelope that (Y/N) had to stop paying attention to him?
        It was a sickening feeling, really. Even if he was an introvert, he wasn’t really used to being alone. With Ashley gone, he found himself thinking a lot more than, his thoughts seemed louder than ever—but (Y/N) helped ease those echoing voices. With Penelope around and distracting her, Andrew’s thoughts couldn’t have been more louder than ever.
        He imagined Penelope with a nail stuck between her forehead, nestled right under her bangs. Penelope looked pretty similar to that lady he killed in his old apartment using a nail gun, he’s sure he could find something lying around.
        No, that’s not good. He thought. Best just leave it be. Surely she can’t be around for too long. Eventually she'll have to go back home. 
        He can’t risk anymore attention drawn to him. Just being in a wheelchair in public makes him nervous, he’s more likely to stand out from a crowd, and he’d hate for a police officer to catch attention of him.
        By now, the police must’ve expanded the manhunt once realizing Andrew’s not in his home city. This manhunt could’ve spread to a few cities around, which means this city’s law enforcement must be up to date about his crimes and runaway. 
        Another thing that worried him is if he’s a target, then so is (Y/N). If the police know she’s with him, that could be bad. He can’t let her find out anything about him. If she turns him in, he’s screwed. If she doesn’t turn him in, then they’re both screwed. She’ll be charged with hiding a criminal, possibly even being an accomplice with the right (or for their case, wrong) detective. 
        Yeah, he didn’t like the idea of that being a possibility. 
        (Y/N) grabbed a bunch of random clothes from the hangers, not bothering to look at the sizes or patterns really, placing them down in Andrew’s lap. 
        “Here. Go try these on.” (Y/N) hummed.
        “Um… okay.” Andrew nodded, confused at her haste, but deciding to listen as he found his way to the dressing room. 
        (Y/N) waited a few seconds as Andrew entered and locked the door, before she turned her attention to Penelope. 
        “I figured we can talk more outside…” (Y/N) smiled. 
        Penelope looked over at the dressing rooms, uncertain if they should leave Andrew, before she eventually agreed. “Okay…” 
        They walked outside and looked up at the sky. It was starting to sprinkle, the sky turning dark at 11 AM from the rain clouds. It would turn out into a storm soon, that’s usually how the weather in this city goes.
        “Sorry. I just didn’t want Andrew to hear us.” (Y/N) sighed, making her way to the alley of the clothing store.
        “I don’t understand. I thought you said he was dangerous? Why are you hanging out with him? And why isn’t he in jail?” Penelope questioned almost immediately. 
        “I tried to go to the station.” (Y/N) lied, looking at the ground as small wet circles started to appear on the ground, clear crystals falling from the sky and impaling the earth. “But the police didn’t believe me. I wrote a police report and that was it. They didn’t call me or anything.” 
        “Drats…” Penelope sighed, putting her hands together.
        “It makes sense. They might’ve went a done a background check on me when doing the case. With my records, it’s no wonder why they rejected the case. They probably thought I was spouting nonsense.” (Y/N) hummed, crossing her arms. 
        “Still, they should take your case serious! Just because you’re bipolar doesn’t mean anything!” Penelope huffed, balling her fists.
        For a second, (Y/N) felt a pang of guilt lying to Penelope. Seeing Penelope so worked up on the behalf of her was almost admirable, before she pushed down those feelings.
        “Don’t worry too much. It’s just life.” (Y/N) sighed. “They’re just doing their jobs.”
        Penelope frowned, her expression showing her distaste in (Y/N)’s lie. 
        “I'm sure I can think of something quick to get rid of him." (Y/N) spoke.
        "Like what?" Penelope questioned. 
        "Well, he's a public store right now..." (Y/N) smiled. "When we leave, I can send an anonymous tip to the police station that he was here. They'll talk to the store owners and review the store's camera footage; hence proving he's in the city. That'll keep the police on their toes and look out for him. So the next time he's in public... bam! We got him!" 
        "Well... it's not the worst idea." Penelope hummed, before a smile made way on her face. "Yes! That works! Men like him shouldn't be on the streets!"
        "Problem solved." (Y/N) smiled. 
        She's officially convinced Penelope to lay off the situation. Now that Penelope is under the impression that (Y/N) secretly has everything under control, she doesn't have to worry about Penelope anymore; so long as Penelope keeps her big mouth shut.
        Still, there's always a lingering threat that Penelope could spout her mouth to the wrong person and have (Y/N)'s secret close. (Y/N) will just have to keep a close eye on her then. Penelope only talks about other people's wrongdoings, never her own.
        "But... what if he kills someone? Either tonight, or tomorrow?" Penelope spoke up. 
        "He's wheelchair bound." (Y/N) scoffed. "I'd like to see him try to run and stab a person."
        "Guns exist!" Penelope retorted.
        "If that's the case, then the police are going to be on alert." (Y/N) tried to reason convince Penelope to stay out of it, to stop thinking logically. 
        "But then we're useless!" Penelope snapped back. 
        "Excuse me?" (Y/N) questioned, offended and confused.
        "Don't you ever wonder why we do this? I mean... right now someone else could die, so the people we saved are suddenly unimportant... because we couldn't save them all..." Penelope frowned. "No matter how many people we save, whether it's 100 or 1000, it's irrelevant when we can't save just one." 
        "And?" (Y/N) questioned.
        "And it hurts!" Penelope hissed, an ugly grimace on her pretty face. "It hurts knowing we couldn't save them! It hurts knowing I couldn't of been good enough!"
        "Penelope, we are humans. We're not a God that can heal people!" (Y/N) spoke, rolling her eyes.
        "Well, I'm scared!" Penelope shouted. 
        There was a pregnant pause, the two of them staring at each other. (Y/N) stared at her with confusion, frustration, anger, and a sense of betrayal. 
        Penelope was a threat.
        "Why?" (Y/N) prompted cautiously.
        "Why? Why? Because this job sucks!" Penelope hissed, stomping her foot. "I hate our job, that's why!"
        "Why?" (Y/N) hissed, slowly starting to circle Penelope's body, before standing behind Penelope.
        Penelope turned to face (Y/N) as (Y/N) blocked her exit. (Y/N) planted herself in the middle of the alleyway, that way if Penelope tries to run, (Y/N) can stop her.
        "I'm scared! Don't you get it? We're constantly exposed to these shitty patients who just whine and whine about their fucking pain. They have the audacity to cry and cry about a broken pinkie when there's people dying alone in their hospital beds. There's homeless people from the streets looking for shelter so they purposely hurt themselves just for shelter and food! This is really the kind of reality we have?" Penelope shouted. "And all the druggies! All these assholes purposely hurting themselves so they can get prescriptions from their doctors for opoids, fucking drugged up and killing themselves for people dying who actually need that medicine!" 
        "The bedside manner! Having to act nice to these assholes that hit and shove us to where we need to have security to strap them down on the bed so they don't attack us! They verbally abuse us constantly. And we're constantly exposed to fucking unsanitary crap! Shit, blood, piss, vomit! If I have to wipe one more old man's asshole after a shit, I'll snap! We're exposed to flus, viruses, infections, all this shit that can kill us too; and people act like we're doing the bare minimum! That we're there to give them their medicine and lunch like a fast food order and that's it, oh so easy!" Penelope hissed, grabbing her hair and tugging on it, stressed out. "And their family members constantly berating us. 'took you long enough to get here' and 'can't you hear the buzzer' and shit. I have seven patients with seven different problems and seven different lives to keep alive, all piled on me 12 hours for the night and I have to make sure nothing happens to them or me! Because we're always understaffed cause nobody wants to be responsibility for another person's life and I don't blame them!"
        "We can't even date! We're gone all night so that intimacy of sleeping next to our partner's are gone! We sleep during the day and we're up at night; on our days on and off! Agatha in cardiology has a whore of a husband because while she's out at night saving lives and risking her health these strangers; he's saving his balls from being full! I feel sorry for Hannah being a single mom and a night nurse! Poor girl gets 2 hours of sleep and her kids hate her because she's always sleeping or working!" Penelope spat. "And the harassment. I'm sick of picking up towels middle-aged men purposely drop so they can get a view of my ass! I'm sick of getting groped by adults with teenage hormones! I'm sick of their constant attitude, acting like "the customer is always right" like it's a damn McDonalds! I give these damn patients more respect and care than I give myself these days! Here we are, slaving away, working 12 hours a night, driving home and disinfecting ourselves in the shower and eating freezer dinners, before getting 4 or 5 hours to sleep, then waking right up to go back and serve these entitled assholes. When's the last time one of them said 'please' or 'thank you?'" 
        "Then switch to children. Come work with me." (Y/N) reasoned. 
        "I can't! I'm scared of what I'll do!" Penelope hissed, tears welling up in her eyes.
        "Do what?" (Y/N) questioned. 
        "Because I killed them!" Penelope snapped. "I killed Barron Dixon and his mother! You know it and I know it!"
        Barron Dixon. Six years ago, he was placed in Foxlord Hospital Psychiatric branch after suffering a manic depression episode; the same hospital Penelope worked at. Penelope was Barron's night nurse, but his mother suspected something off about the nurse.
        Once Barron started developing weakness in his muscles and retrograde amnesia, not being able to recall how long he was in the hospital, his age, or his birthday; his mother grew suspicious of the nurse. Mrs. Dixon stayed overnight in the hospital, hiding in the patient's bathroom until she caught Penelope in the act. Penelope had been lacing Barron's puddings with Rohypnol, a date-rape drug that's completely odorless and tasteless; so Barron never suspected a thing. 
        The next day, Mrs. Dixon was found dead in the hospital room, stabbed 52 times with a dull object that was later identified as Penelope's key to the medicine cabinet. Barron's body was never found, but it's safe to say Penelope stole the body after cameras caught her parking her car behind the hospital and dragging a black trash bag out, throwing it into her backseat. What she does with Barron's body? (Y/N) would rather not know. 
        The only reason (Y/N) knows about Penelope keeping Barron is that Penelope weekly goes to clothing stores and buys more clothing for Barron's dead body as he rots and ruins the clothes she keeps buys. Penelope is under the impression that Barron is with her till death do both part, or at least, until she finds a new victim; hence why she's still a nurse. But it seems the guilt must be keeping up with her for her to snap like this. 
        There were no police reports regarding the incident. Foxlord was kept on close watch, but they laid Penelope off without reporting her to the police. In cases like that, having a crooked nurse destroys trust in a hospital brand, so the hospital covered up the case. In fact, the only reason (Y/N) connected the dots was looking at Penelope's resume via Treegrowth hospital computers (the hospital they currently work at).
        Sure, it was illegal looking up those documents, but everything the hospital does is illegal.
        Treegrowth hospitals do everything illegal, even the nurses and doctors are convicted criminals who've served their time in prison or are escaping the law. Penelope is a murderer who escaped the law by moving across the country. Doctor Ryan is a recovering drug addict. Ruby from dayshift is a convicted felon who murdered her ex-husbands for life insurance. (Y/N) is a nurse who previously was framed for the death of Ben Rivers, and now a current murderer for the death of Ashley Graves. All the nurses and doctors are freaks or criminals, but now she fits right in. 
        Of course, their patients are unaware that all the doctors and nurses are criminals; it gets covered up just like every other hospital case. 
        Treegrowth hospital is also famous for their organ harvesting ring! Well, infamous in the Black Market, that is. When a patient dies, they pluck up the organs and sell them; it's possible Hailey's heart and kidneys are floating around on the dark web. The ring is in connection with other hospitals nearby too, even branching out to other cities. And alias, the pyramid scheme of money laundering! While some patients donate to the "children in need" and the "patients that need liver transplants", in actuality the money is going to the imports and exports of the hospital. 
        The organ harvesting and money laundering is a department (Y/N) and Penelope have agreed to stay clear of in the hospital; but they're still just as guilty, being aware of the wrongdoings yet refusing to do anything about it. 
        Penelope stays for love. (Y/N) stays because it's her dream job, even if the job didn't choose her. 
        "I know." (Y/N) sighed. "We all know, Pen. We know you killed them, and we don't judge you for it." 
        Well, that's a lie, but it won't hurt to lie in a situation like this. 
        "I killed her because she tried to get in the way of our love. And I killed him because he didn't want my love." Penelope admitted, tears welling up in her eyes. "And I'm scared because if I do it again, how do I know I won't get away with it? I can only have so much luck before it runs out."
        "It's okay, Penelope." (Y/N) smiled. "It doesn't matter what you did in the past."
        "Will it be wrong if I do it again?" Penelope questioned. 
        (Y/N) stared blankly, surprised. How was she supposed to answer that?
        "I... what?" (Y/N) questioned, shocked. 
        "How much money will it take for you to give me Andrew?" Penelope questioned, fidgeting with her purse strap. 
        "You want... Andrew?" (Y/N) repeated, surprised.
        "When you weren't looking, I poured some Rohypnol down his boba straw. He was too busy looking at you to notice." Penelope explained. "It'll get him off the streets and out of the public, so he wouldn't hurt anyone. I'd keep him in check. Just how much for you to keep quiet?"
        A sickening feeling arose in (Y/N)'s stomach, shocked as she stared at Penelope with a blank expression. She placed her hands in her jacket's pockets, feeling around before grabbing her pocket knife. After Ren, you can never be too safe out on the streets. Honestly, she should've broke hospital protocol and keep the knife in her scrub pockets to try and prevent Ashley's attack; but now's not the time to think about that.
        "But you, just keep getting in my way. You took over as his nurse, even having the nerve to visit him constantly during our night shifts, so he was brainwashed by you, refusing for any other nurse's care and love." Penelope hissed, reaching her hand into her purse.
        That's dangerous territory. For all (Y/N) knows, Penelope could have a pocket knife too. Or she could have a gun. Hell, she can even blow some powdered Rohypnol into (Y/N)'s face, and it would blind her and it wouldn't take too long for that to knock her out. 
        "I'm really sorry. I don't mean for you to get hurt again, but love is just a wonderful feeling." Penelope smiled. "You should know, right? That's how you feel about Andrew, right? It's why you won't turn him in..."
        "Penelope, we don't have to do this." (Y/N) frowned, taking a step back for space as Penelope took a step forward.
        "There's a difference between a man and a woman who kills. A man does it for power, but a woman does it for love. All throughout history, men have killed just because, to take and take. Well, I'm tired of being the one to give and give constantly to these scum, I want to take too." Penelope spoke. "I want that love all for myself; but another woman into the equation just won't do. It doesn't matter if it's a poly or not, there will always be a duo, and there will always be a better woman. If there's no other woman, then I'm always the better woman—so you have to go." 
        "How can you even call yourself a woman if all you seek is male companionship? A real woman knows how to take care of herself on her own. You're a woman, not a child." (Y/N) spat, frustrated.
        Like she had any room to talk when all she does is sulk and puke.
        "You think you can just do what you please? There's consequences, and it'll chase you forever! Whether you're good, bad, or in between, there's always a toll to pay! Who says you can avoid it?!" (Y/N) hissed.
        "Who says you can avoid it?" Penelope questioned, before lunging at (Y/N). 
        She pulled a pocketknife out of her purse, recklessly stabbing the air before (Y/N) jumped back and pulled out her own pocket knife.
        “Penelope, stop!” (Y/N) shouted, but Penelope didn’t bother to listen.
        Penelope ran up to (Y/N) with her knife held high in the air, causing (Y/N) to use her free arm and grab Penelope’s forearm. (Y/N) stabbed her knife in Penelope’s wrist, before roughly tugging down and splitting the skin and fat in half.
        It wasn’t her first knife fight after all.
        Penelope let out a scream, dropping her own knife. (Y/N) quickly covered her mouth so nobody nearby could be alerted, before kicking Penelope over onto her back and climbing on top of her body.
        “Stupid bitch! Ungrateful! After I gave you the opportunity to just let this be too!” (Y/N) hissed, stabbing her pocket knife into Penelope’s chest, mimicking her actions with how she killed Ashley.
        “Nothing but desperate whores nowadays! Can’t you find your own man?! He wanted me first, so he’s mine!” (Y/N) snapped, grabbing Penelope’s pocketknife and holding it in her other hand, before stabbing Penelope.
        (Y/N)’s knife went into Penelope’s chest, then Penelope’s knife into Penelope’s chest, until (Y/N) dragged the knives from her chest to her stomach, gutting her open. 
        “Always hated you! I always hated you! I always knew you dragged down our team and you'd be one to quit! Nothing but a pretty face! No brains! I knew you’d pay one day, but you just had to piss. Me. Off!” (Y/N) shouted, before the knives dove into Penelope’s lifeless face.
        Die without love. Die without happiness. Die without honor. Die alone, that’s all she could think of when she looked at Penelope. Nothing but pure, unadulterated rage.
        First she takes a helpless man and his mother’s life, then she has the audacity to try and chain Andrew down to her? To try and buy him like he was a product—like he could ever be hers?
        (Y/N) panted, wiping the blood from the knives off on Penelope’s skirt. 
        The rain poured harder as (Y/N) took a second to compose herself, before letting out a groan. 
        “Jesus... What’s with all the crazy chicks now? What happened to elegance?” (Y/N) groaned, collecting rain water and rinsing her bloody hands using the water.
        She looked around for a place to hide the body. She can’t just leave the girl out in the open, especially because she's unsure if she left any evidence or DNA on Penelope, and she can’t just walk around with a dead body in her arms.
        She contemplated on a dumpster, before realizing she’s might’ve left evidence of the murder on her. She sighed, annoyed before her eyes landed on a public clothing donation box. 
        (Y/N) looked around cautiously, dropping Penelope’s purse onto the ground, before quickly picking Penelope’s lifeless body up. She opened the box’s hatch and shoved Penelope inside of the hatch, repeatedly pushing and pulling the lid before she finally sunk in with the donated clothes and shoes.
        She took off her bloodied jacket, placing it into the clothing donation. This way, it wouldn’t be suspicious if her jacket had blood or if there was any of (Y/N)’s hair on Penelope, because now everyone’s DNA from inside the clothing would be left on Penelope. It’d be nearly impossible for the police to track (Y/N) down once the donation truck comes to collect the clothes. 
        (Y/N) could almost laugh at her luck. In fact, she did laugh. She dedicated a moment to laugh about what just happened; about Penelope slipping a drug into Andrew's drink without her knowing, about having to kill her co-worker, about shedding yet another person's blood on her hands.
        The bodies just keep piling up. 
        (Y/N) looked over at the purse Penelope left. She wiped the rain from her face and crouched down to the ground, opening the purse and looking inside. There was Penelope's phone, her pink wallet, a small bottle of Ibuprofen, her make-up pouch, and perfume.
        (Y/N) picked up the perfume bottle and scoffed. 
        Ah, a woman's beauty is another's poison. (Y/N) thought, thinking back to Ashley, before placing the perfume bottle back into the purse. 
        She looked closer into the purse before spotting a hidden pocket. She unzipped the pocket and found a small box of Rohypnol. She also found a small snack-sized bag of white powder, which must've been crushed Rohypnol tablets. 
        (Y/N) contemplated what she should do with those. In one hand, she’s a bit uncertain leaving the drugs in Penelope’s purse considering just anyone can steal them; and she’d rather not have someone with bad intentions take them. On another hand, she didn’t want to carry date-rape drugs, even if their intended use is for helping with insomnia.
        (Y/N) sighed, before pocketing the bag and box of tablets into her own purse. She’ll just keep it for insomnia, like how it should be used for.
        (Y/N) closed Penelope's purse and grabbed her pocketknife instead. Her pocketknife was a plain one with a black handle, she never thought of personalizing her own pocketknife, she never wanted it to be traced back to her. (Y/N) washed off the pocketknife where the blood that didn't wipe off on Penelope's skirt was left, then folded down the blade and pocketed the knife. She glanced over at Penelope's pocketknife and admired it. 
        It was a regular blade, but the handle was beautiful. It was a rose gold with a small, plastic red rose on the center of the handle meeting the blade. (Y/N) folded down the blade and tapped it against her palm, thinking before ultimately deciding to keep it.
        It’s not like Penelope would be able to use it anymore, and it’d be a shame to throw out a pretty knife.
        She walked back into the store after double-checking there was no blood on her. Once she walked into the store, she looked around for Andrew, before realizing he might be unconscious in the fitting room. 
        She walked to the fitting rooms and knocked on the one she remembered him going into. After hearing no reply, she figured the Rohypnol kicked in and opened the door.
        Andrew sat in his wheelchair, a black sweatshirt on him that belonged to the store as his head laid tilted to the side at what she can only assume is an uncomfortable angle for his neck. 
        (Y/N) smiled, relieved to see him alright and relatively unharmed. 
        She had saved him.
        (Y/N) walked in and closed the door behind her, sorting out all the random sweatshirts she threw at Andrew earlier. She grabbed the dark and monochrome ones in his size that fit, and placed the rest in a neat, folded pile. 
        She walked over to Andrew and gently shook him, though she really wasn’t expecting a reaction. After receiving no response, she removed the sweatshirt he tried on and replaced it with his old sweater. 
        She placed the sweatshirt in the pile with the ones she intended to buy, then looked at herself in the mirror. 
        She was soaked from the rain, and her hair was covering her face like a wet dog. Her face looked pale, and she could still feel her heart trying to calm itself after her previous attack. Her nerves were going haywire as adrenaline pumped in her veins.
        Two attempted murders in one week. (Y/N) thought, sighing. Not only that, but if I kill another person this month, I’ll be an official serial killer.
        She moved her hair out of her eyes and sighed. She looked over and Andrew and took note of his sleeping face.
        She’s never gotten the opportunity to see him up close like this. Sure, she slept next to him last night, but she didn’t bother admiring him much; she was more focused on going to bed and having her parents leave her apartment in the morning.
        (Y/N) reached her hand out, noticing how her hands trembled as she placed her hand on his hair.
        It was surprisingly soft, shocking considering how messy and uncoordinated his hair was. Her palm went lower as it rested on his cheek, her thumb tracing a soft line under his eyes.
        She always thought he had pretty eyes. Even with his eyes closed right now, she can still picture the vibrant green of them inside her head. His eyes were hooded and there were eyebags under their eyes, but those bags were far less present than the ones he had when he first arrived at the hospital, so he’s been catching up on his sleep.
        Her eyes trailed down to his lips, her palm following as her thumb rested on his chin, just shy under his bottom lip. He had pale, thin lips, but she recalled him having a lovely smile and a confident smirk. 
        She could feel his slow, constant breaths, relaxed from the Rohypnol. 
        She felt how warm he was compared to her and couldn’t resist wrapping her arms around him, seeking out his warmth.
        God, that feels so good. (Y/N) mentally sighed, melting into his chest. 
        Her posture felt uncomfortable hunching over him, so she got on her knees and continued to hug him.
        His body heat was a wonderful contrast to the cold rain outside as Mother Nature kept punishing the city. It felt even better than last night, and it felt almost like a reward for protecting him from Penelope. 
        (Y/N) smiled, embracing the warmth as she left out a contented breath. She cradled his face and closed her eyes, pressing her forehead against his, a gesture that would've been intimate if he was awake. 
        Right. He's still unconscious... (Y/N) thought, opening her eyes as she re-evaluated the situation.
        "Oh, God. What am I doing?" (Y/N) whispered, a pang of disgust and even fear seeping into her chest.
        (Y/N) forced herself up from the ground, letting go of Andrew and sitting down on the fitting room bench. 
        Am I just as bad as her? (Y/N) questioned.
        She's killed two people just like Penelope did. Is she Penelope in this situation? Is Penelope Mrs. Dixon in this situation; trying to break them apart? Is Andrew Barron in this situation; just caught in the crossfire?
        Will he die from her too? 
        Will he upset her just enough to where she'll snap again? 
        (Y/N) didn't want to know the answer to that. She stood up and opened the fitting room door, wheeling Andrew out of the room and walking to the cashier with him in toll. 
        She grabbed two grey jackets on her way out, one to replace the one she had to throw away, and the other to keep Andrew dry from the rain outside. She grabbed a few sweatpants in Andrew's size too, just to make sure he has enough. She walked to the cashier and stood in line, before checking out.
        "Sorry, he just has a little sugar crash, so he's taking his afternoon nap. I kept him out too long, haha!" (Y/N) laughed, smiling when the cashier questioned if Andrew was alright. 
        She wheeled Andrew to the front door, before grabbing one of the jackets she bought and putting it on Andrew, flipping the hood up so he'll stay dry from the rain, then doing the same with herself using the other jacket she bought. She exited the store and mustered up all the strength she could, dragging Andrew into the passenger seat and buckling him up. She folded his wheelchair and put it in the backseat along with the shopping bags before hopping into the car. 
        I'll go get groceries tomorrow instead. (Y/N) thought, looking over at Andrew as she buckled her seatbelt.
        She turned the radio on a random jazz channel, keeping the volume low so it wouldn't disturb Andrew in case he woke up from the noise, and she drove back to her apartment. 
        Once arriving, she took the time to grab her kitchen knife Ashley stabbed her with, along with Ashley's gun and her strange occult charm. She threw the knife in her sink and washed it, then placed Ashley's gun and occult charm in her bedside drawer along with Penelope's Rohypnol and pocketknife, hiding them there. She then managed to retrieve and drag Andrew up her apartment complex steps and unlock her front door, entering the apartment and dragging him to their bedroom. She placed him on their bed and took off his shoes and socks, tucking him into bed. She almost contemplated giving him a goodnight kiss, but not even she was crazy enough to do that. 
        She took off her shoes and was about to change into her pajamas when her phone rang. (Y/N) immediately lunged for her phone, grabbing it and accepting the call before Andrew could wake up.
        "Hello?" she whispered, exiting the bedroom and walking to the living room where she could speak louder.
        "Hello, this is Starworth Hospital. Is this (Y/N) (L/N)?" a woman's voice questioned.
        Starworth Hospital? (Y/N) thought.
        She's not familiar with that hospital, it must be one far away from her. What are they doing calling her?
        "This is her." (Y/N) hummed. "Can I help you?"
        "We regret to inform you that Mr. Frank (L/N) and Mrs. Rose (L/N) have passed away in a car accident."
        "P-passed away? What do you mean they're dead?" (Y/N) questioned, shocked.
        "They were deceased upon arrival. They were involved in a car accident at a gas station and were unfortunately unidentifiable; however Starworth County Police were able to identify them using the surveillance cameras and transactions made at the counter." The woman spoke, as if she was speaking with a paper in front of her face. "You were listed as their daughter under their emergency contacts. We're sorry for your loss." 
        (Y/N)'s heart dropped, spiraling into confusion, pain, and guilt.
        "Is... is there anything I have to do?" (Y/N) questioned. "Do I need to drive over there or... or anything?" 
        "Usually we would request you to come and identify the body, but I don't believe that's possible considering they have third-degree burns and are burnt to a crisp." The woman spoke. "The car crashed into the fuel station right next to them while they were refueling their car."
        Ouch. Talk about breaking the news lightly. 
        "A bill will be sent to you in three weeks. You can use our website to pay once receiving the bill, there will be a QR code to scan." The woman explained. 
        "Excuse me? Pay for what?" (Y/N) scoffed. "You didn't do anything! You said they were dead once arriving to the hospital!" 
        "Someone has to pay for the ambulance." The woman responded. 
        "Yeah? You can take that bill and shove it up your—" there was an audible click, the woman hanging up.
        Well, now she knows how her patient's families feel.
        "You stupid fucking cunt!" she hissed, grabbing her living room vase and flowers.
        She was about to throw the vase against the ground, but remembered Andrew was just next door in her bedroom. She carefully placed the vase down, grabbed her shoes and keys, and exited her apartment, locking the door behind her. She hopped into her car and slammed the gas, reckless swerving out of the parking and speeding down the roads. It took her an hour before she spotted the familiar sight of the forest amongst the heavy rainfall. 
        She parked her car and stormed out into the forest, not bothering to grab a flashlight despite how dark it was. (Y/N) trudged through the heavy mud forming on the ground as she shoved bushes and tree branches violently out of her way. She finally made it to Ashley's gravesite, recognizing the scenery as she looked down at the ground. 
        "Is this your doing?" she shouted. "Is this your damn demon buddy? Was you dying apart of your contract with them or something? Is this you trying to get back at me? You stupid bitch, answer me!" 
        She stared at the ground, waiting for a response. Waiting for a pale hand to shoot its way up from the ground, or a giggle, or anything—but as always, she received nothing good. Nothing that told her Ashley was here. 
        (Y/N) grabbed her hair and tugged the ends violently, frustrated. 
        "Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!" she screamed, ripping a few strands of her hair out until her head ached and a headache formed. "I can't! I can't!" she shouted, crouching down on the ground.
        "Why can't you just leave me alone?! Why can't everyone just leave me alone?!" (Y/N) cried out, a few tears escaping her eyes before she started sobbing.
        "I'm sorry, Ashley. I'm sorry." She sobbed. "I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to lash out. I didn't mean to kill you, or Penelope, or Ben, or mama and papa or anyone. I just wanted to be something bigger and better than myself, but I can't even do that. Not even a job or a lover or a friend." 
        It hurt, it hurt worse than any stab wound or cut or pill she could endure. Her chest ached, her stomach felt sick, her throat burned, her eyes felt tired, her nose was stuffy, her leg ached from her injury, her arms stung from her injury and self-inflicted cuts, her mind throbbed, and her heart ached. 
        Whatever excuse she tries to put it, it's still her fault in the end. It'll always be her fault. 
        "Please, just make it stop..." she cried. "Haven't I given enough? Haven't I atoned enough? Haven't I saved enough? Haven't I hurt enough? Why isn't it enough? Why isn't anything enough?"
        It's too much. It's too much. It's too much. It's too much. It's too much.
        She stopped crouching, rising up as she walked further in the woods, finding the forest path and following it as the rain punished her back and the thunder scolded her. 
        She made her way until the ground reflected with the lightning in the sky. She had reached the forest's lake. 
        She sat down on a wet bench that showed a scenic view of the lake, but she wasn't concerned about the lake. 
        She thought about that small room she grew up in alone, affection-starved, and hungry; a punishment for being born.
        She thought about all those times she was shoved up against school lockers, or tripped in class, or wads of gum stuck in her hair; a punishment for being a freak.
        She thought about those hospital walls, the numerous markings on her wrists, the empty pill bottles scattered around; a punishment for wanting death. 
        She thought about that courtroom, about being sentenced guilty, and those days she spent starving herself and force-fed through a tube in jail; a punishment for having Ren love her.
        She thought about escaping Ren, about living in her car homeless as she tried to make ends meet; a punishment for wanting freedom.
        She thought about receiving that sketchy email from Treegrowth Hospital, meeting Doctor Ryan and Penelope, and Hailey and many many other patients dying; a punishment for following her dreams.
        She thought about that first spray of perfume to Ashley's eyes so she could blind her, that first stab into Penelope's wrist so she could harm her; a punishment for standing up for herself.
        And now, the rain punishes her back for standing out here alone, and Mother Nature weeps with her as she cries. 
        Sometimes, it still feels like she's trapped inside that room; except this time, she's the one that locked herself in it. 
        She stood up from the bench, walking to the edge of the lake, and stepping a foot in. The water was freezing and cold, but what it promises makes her feel warm. She took another step, walking deeper as it reached her knees. Soon it reached her hips as she looked up at the moon, witnessing her ultimate—and hopefully final—death. 
        She looked at the trees, watching as lightning lit the sky and showed the vibrant green of the forest.
        There was a picture shoved in front of her eyes, an image of a male with black hair and vibrant green eyes, a soft look in his eyes as he held her tight, whispering to her.
        (“That video showed Hailey saying that she wanted you to get better, right?”) he spoke, his hands cradling her face as his thumbs wiped the tears from her face. ("She knew you weren’t feeling good, even when she wasn't doing good herself She cares about your health. Do you think crying would make her happy?”)
        The image changed to them on her bed watching a movie on TV, his arm around her shoulder as her head rested on his chest naturally. It provided a sensation she never felt before, one that burned her chest, but it didn't hurt for once. It felt soothing, comfortable, and she couldn't help but want more.
        Andrew.
        "Andrew!" she gasped, before being submerged under water at a steep drop.
        She quickly swam back up to the surface, coughing and spitting out the water she swallowed, before peddling back to the edge of the lake, crawling out and lying down on the ground, coughing and panting as she stared at the stars as they laughed at her.
        She didn't care about their mockery though.
        I want Andrew. She thought, forcing herself up off the ground.
        The autumn air mauled her skin as she ran, ignoring the ache in her leg as she followed the path and got off track, running back to her car.  She hopped in the driver's seat and started the car, speeding out of the forest. 
        She'll pay a visit later and apologize to Ashley, but right now she didn't want Ashley, she wanted Andrew. 
        She sped back to her apartment, an hour drive taking 30 minutes as she speeded. She made it back and parked her car, almost tripping on the steps from her haste as she almost broke off her key in the keyhole. She practically ripped the front door open, her eyes meeting with Andrew's panicked ones.
        He was out of his wheelchair, no crutches in sight as he leaned against the couch, tears falling down from his eyes. Every door in the house was open, and every light was on along with pillows and blankets scattered on the living room floor. It looked like he was trying to find her. 
        "(Y/N)!" he exclaimed, out of breath and panting, seeming to have had his own episode himself. 
        "Andrew!" she smiled, glad to see him awake and well.
        (Y/N) shut the door behind her, locking it before rushing over and running into Andrew's arms. He stumbled before falling back, but luckily he fell onto the couch. He didn't hesitate in reciprocating her hug as he wrapped his arms tightly around hers. 
        "(Y/N), where the hell were you?! I don't remember falling asleep or coming back home but I had a nightmare and—Jesus, you're so cold and wet." He spoke, lifting her legs up and placing her down in his lap. "Baby, what happened? Where were you? It's dark and raining outside, what were you thinking?"
        "Oh, Andrew. It's been so terrible." She cried, pressing her forehead against his. "I-I feel so terrible and lost. I'm so scared. My parents died and she's dead too and—" she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tighter as she nuzzled her head in his neck. "Please don't leave me too. I need you, Andrew."
        Andrew's heart broke and mended at the same time. Seeing her crying and scared hurt, but seeing her need him felt better. 
        "It's okay... I won't leave you. I'm right here." Andrew breathed out, calming down as his arms held her waist, pulling her tightly against him as he shared his warmth with her.
        Suddenly, his nightmare felt almost silly in comparison to seeing her like this. Just like when she was in the hospital with him, he felt bad seeing her like this. It felt like a foreign sight seeing tears fall down her cheeks. 
        "Hey, you're really cold right now. C'mon, let's go get you warmed up." Andrew spoke, his hands rubbing up and down her arms to try and warm her up, though her wet jacket blocked the touch.
        (Y/N) nodded and stood up from his lap, a feeling of annoyance creeping up on his immediately after. He wished his legs could just heal up faster, he hates having to rely on her so much, he wants her to rely on him for a change.
        He wanted his legs to go back to normal so he could be able to carry her without having to have her get off his lap. He wanted to be able to walk side by side with her and hold hands while doing so. He wanted to help her reach the high shelves in the supermarket. 
        He hated having to look up at her to talk or speak, it was a blow to his ego and felt insulting to his masculinity. He wanted to be able to look down at her for once.
        Andrew got up and led (Y/N) to the bathroom, turning on the warm water and setting out a towel for her. (Y/N) went and grabbed a nightgown from her closet along with a sweatshirt and pair of sweatpants she bought Andrew today, coming back and resting them next to the towel. 
        "What's that for?" Andrew questioned, noticing the extra outfit just as he turned off the bathtub faucet. 
        "Why don't you stay with me again tonight?" (Y/N) suggested, swallowing her nerves. "I'd rather not be alone tonight... and you said you had a nightmare. We can comfort each other."
        Andrew's eyes widen, a rare blush dusting his cheeks as he looked at her surprised. He looked over at the bathtub, before back at her. 
        "Y-you mean... you wanna bathe together?" he questioned. "And sleep together willingly?" 
        "Jeez, you make it sound like I'm asking you for 1,000 bucks." (Y/N) sighed, crossing her arms, ignoring the cold shiver that went down her spine. 
        Oh no, this was much more than 1,000 bucks. This was priceless. If anything, he should be paying her for this. 
        "Only if you want to though. You don't have to feel pressured or anything, I don't want you to feel pressured because you're living with me. I'd feel bad if you were uncomfortable with this..." (Y/N) spoke, adverting her eyes from his.
        "Oh, honey. I'm far from uncomfortable. That's lightyears away." He chuckled, causing a smile to form on her face.
        "Well, that's good to know at least..." she smiled.
        "C'mere." He spoke, reaching out and grabbing her waist, pulling her flush against him. "So, you gonna help me change now?" he questioned, smirking as he asked her that question for the second time today.
        "You're insufferable." (Y/N) giggled.
        "Worth a shot." He shrugged, smirking. 
        He let go of her waist, much to her disappointment, and grabbed the hem of his jacket (Y/N) put on him earlier while he was asleep, lifting it up before she quickly adverted her eyes.
        "Hey!" she exclaimed, her body turning 180 degrees as she covered her eyes. "Y-you can't just do that in front of me!"
        "Oh, so you get flustered about seeing me undress but not asking me to bathe with you?" Andrew laughed, a genuine one as he undressed. 
        "Leave me alone..." (Y/N) muttered, suddenly feeling nervous about the situation at hand. 
        There was a moment of doubt, but it was washed away as she heard a splash from behind her. 
        "The water is warm. No need to be shy." Andrew spoke. 
        She could practically see his wolfish grin.
        "Can't you close your eyes?" (Y/N) huffed, turning her head towards him carefully, a mixture of gratitude and disappointment to seeing nothing exposed of him in the bathtub.
        "If that's what makes you comfortable." He sighed, pretending to act like it was a big deal when it wasn't. 
        "Wait, here..." (Y/N) spoke, reaching into her bathroom cabinet and pulling out a bottle.
        "Bubbles?" Andrew questioned, reading the label as she handed it to him. "Strawberry scented too. Yummy." 
        "Don't eat it." (Y/N) huffed.
        "I won't. Promise." He smiled. "I have a better snack here in front of me. A whole course meal." 
        His words caused her cheeks to flare up as she looked away from him.
        "Just get those bubbles made... yeah?" she hummed. "And don't look." 
        "Jokes on you, I know what reverse psychology is. You want me to look." Andrew teased.
        "Andrew!" (Y/N) whined. 
        "Okay! I promise I won't look." He spoke, his fingers crossed behind his back. 
        He turned back on the faucet and poured some bubble formula into the stream as she undressed, though he stole many glances with zero shame. He was only a man after all, but he could control himself. 
        "Okay..." (Y/N) spoke, removing her socks and undoing her bandages on her arms and leg.
        "Ready?" Andrew hummed, closing his eyes again. 
        "Yeah." She nodded.
        She turned around and looked at the slightly-pink foam from the bubbles, before looking at Andrew to make sure his eyes were closed. When she confirmed they were closed, she entered the bathtub and sat down in front of Andrew, her back facing him as her leg hung over the edge to prevent her stitches from being wet. 
        "I'm in. You can open your eyes now." (Y/N) sighed.
        "You sure look comfortable." Andrew chuckled gesturing to her leg. 
        "You should be doing this too. You still have stitches on your ankles." (Y/N) retorted.
        "You're such a worrywart." Andrew teased.
        "They could get infected." She bit back.
        "Well, it's a good thing I live with a cute nurse." Andrew smiled. 
        Her heart stammered at his compliment, she tilted her head to look back at him. 
        "Liar." She muttered under her breath.
        Andrew heard her and smiled, amused. His arms reached out and wrapped around her waist, before pulling her back into his chest.
        "H-hey! What are you doing?!" she gasped, feeling his warmth directly behind her. 
        "Don't worry so much, pretty. It causes wrinkles." He teased.
        "Well, I didn't know my looks were the only thing important about me." She huffed, her hands nervous settling on his.
        "You sure know how to bite back at everything I say, huh?" he sighed, albeit the smile on his face showed how much he enjoyed their little bickers. 
        His thumbs played with her hips, drawing circles on them as (Y/N) relaxed her head on his chest, the scent of strawberries in the air calming her down.
        "Should've brought my speaker in here and played some music." (Y/N) sighed. 
        "How romantic." He chuckled. "I can just hear George Michael singing 'Careless Whisper' to me right now." 
        "Classy." She hummed sarcastically.
        "What? Don't like his song?" Andrew questioned.
        "No, I'm really hearing Jo Stafford right now." (Y/N) chuckled. 
        "Ew. Oldies." Andrew teased, before musing over it. "...What song?"
        "'I've Got My Love To Keep Me Warm' sounds really fitting right now." She hummed thoughtfully.
        "So I'm your love?" he inquired, a playfully smirk on his face.
        His hand reached up and held her cheek, tilting her head towards him more. He pressed his forehead against her intimately, looking into her eyes with this fond expression on his face, one she could hardly believe was real. She reached her hand out and held his wrist, smiling.
        "Well, you did meet my parents..." she hummed, before a pang ached her heart, remembering her parents' death, though she hid that thought in the back of her mind.
        Andrew looked down and noticed the lines on her arm, his smile dropping. "Hey..."
        Shit, (Y/N) mentally scolded herself, her arm dropping.
        She just had to lift that one up. 
        "Hey." He spoke, his voice more firmer as he gripped her wrist tighter to prevent her from hiding her arm. "What's this?"
        "It's nothing." She lied.
        "What's this?" he said firmer, his eyes hardening as he looked down at her.
        "Nothing, I was just being stupid!" she snipped back, trying to grab her arm back. 
        "(Y/N). (Y/N), stop." He huffed, fighting her for her arm as she failed at hiding it. 
        "Drop it." She spoke defensively, tears welling up in her eyes.
        "(Y/N), honey." Andrew sighed, his gentle voice making her melt as she resisted fighting. "Baby, these are fresh. What happened?"
        "They're from yesterday." She corrected.
        "Stop avoiding the question. It's still fresh." He huffed. "What happened?"
        "I can't..." she muttered, looking away from him shamefully as the tears from her eyes fell.
        "C'mon, don't cry." Andrew mumbled, dropping her arm as both of his hands cradled her face. "We talked about crying; it's not pretty on you."
        "I can't help it." She sniffled.
        "So let me help." He hummed, his thumbs wiping away the tears. "What's been going on?"
        "A lot." She spoke.
        "Don't be vague. Speak." Andrew spoke, before noticing her hesitation. "I only wanna help you, baby. I don't like seeing you hurt." 
   "I don't wanna tell you yet..." (Y/N) muttered. "You won't like me anymore."
        "Honey, I'll still like you no matter what." He smiled reassuringly. "You don't gotta worry about silly things like that."
        "I-I still don't wan-na tell you yet..." she hiccuped as he wiped the remaining tears from her eyes.
        "Fine..." he sighed, a bit disappointed but not wanting to pry into her business. "Then tell me when you're ready, yeah?" 
        "Okay..." she nodded.
        "But can you at least promise me you'll stop this?" he spoke, his eyes trailing down to her arm to gesture to it.
        "I can't promise that." She frowned. "It just... happens sometimes." 
        "Well then come to me." He spoke. "I'll help you."
        She adverted her eyes, feeling guilty for making him worry.
        "I'm sorry..." She muttered.
        "I'm sorry too." He mumbled.
        "For what?" she questioned.
        "For not being there for you." He spoke. 
        "Andrew, you've barely known me for a week now." She sighed. 
        "So? I'm bathing with you right now. I get to eat meals with you and I get to shop with you and sleep with you at night." He spoke, before smiling. "We're dating now, remember?" he teased, recalling the words she used yesterday to try and explain their fake relationship.
        "Y-you really believe it?" she questioned, surprised. "You really wanna... you know...?"
        "I don't think I'd be here in the tub with you right now if I didn't." He chuckled, before pressing his nose against hers. "Yeah, I wanna be with you. I wanna always be with you." 
        "You can't possibly always be there for me." She pointed out, pouting.
        "But I wanna." He admitted. "I wanna always be there for you. I need you." 
        Her heart stammered as she looked away from him, nervous. The air was hot and humid, and the heavy scent of strawberries practically drowned her; but she wouldn't want this any other way.
        "You're stupid..." she mumbled, her finally defense being let down.
        "Stupid for you~" he cooed teasingly, coaxing a giggle out of her. 
        His eyes softened as he watched her laugh. One of his thumbs rubbing circles on her flared cheeks as his other hovered next to her bottom lip.
        "You have a pretty laugh." He commented, his eyes watching her lips before meeting her eyes. "And you have a pretty smile. Keep smiling for me, yeah?"
        "You have pretty eyes." She hummed. "Green like Mother Nature; nurturing." 
        "How poetic." He chuckled, smiling. 
        "I really like you, you know." (Y/N) admitted, her arms reaching up and grabbing his wrists, drawing small circles on them. 
        "Like me enough for a kiss?" he teased, although he was hopefully.
        "You want one?" she questioned. 
        "Well, I certainly wouldn't mind." He purred. 
        She giggled, before moving her face closer to his, her eyes looking at his endearingly before they looked down at his lips.
        "I've... never actually kissed anyone before..." she admitted. "So forgive me if I'm bad."        
        "I doubt anything could be bad with you." He hummed. 
        She smiled, raising her hands to rest on his cheeks, before holding her breath and kissing his lips. 
        It was short, sweet, and sincere. It's a serendipity that he managed to live and stumble into her hospital, and get assigned to her specifically despite being in a separate hospital branch, otherwise this might've never happened. She has him spellbound; and vise versa.
        She parted her lips from his, nervous as a hesitant smile resting on her face, yet she still smiled for him. 
        "So...?" she inquired. "How was that?"
        He hummed, pretending to muse, before quickly bending down and stealing another quick kiss from him.
        "Hey!" she gasped, flustered. "We agreed on one kiss!"
        "My mouth slipped." He lied, causing a chuckle to escape her lips.
        "Liar." She laughed.
        "It was perfect." He smiled. "You're perfect."
        "Now you're really lying." She scoffed playfully.
        "I'm extremely serious." He hummed, before lifting his hands. "See? My fingers aren't crossed."
        "Oh, then I guess you must be telling the truth." She hummed sarcastically. 
        "I am." He hummed, watching as she rested her head back down on his chest.
        They stayed quiet for a few minutes, before he spoke up.
        "Feeling better?" he questioned.
        "I'm on Cloud 9." She sighed, before adding. "And I changed my mind. It feels more like '(They Long to Be) Close to You.' that's by The Carpenters"
        Andrew chuckled, smiling. "Well I change mine too."
        "What do you change it to?" she questioned. 
        "'Unforgettable.' Nat Cole." He spoke. "Because you're unforgettable." He cooed, resting his head on her shoulder. 
        "Dummy." She smiled, closing her eyes and enjoying his warmth.
        This is what she longed to come home to every night. This was something worth living for.
        "You wanna get out now? Get to bed?" Andrew questioned.
        "Five minutes more." She smiled, quoting Frank Sinatra. "I'm comfortable..."
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And chapter 8 is finished! I've concluded that the series is coming to the end soon, we have about one or two more chapters left! Don't be down though, there will still be more Andrew content and you guys get to vote for the next series once Star Patient is done!
Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!
Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for requests!
Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, current chapter, final chapter.
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94 notes · View notes
luveline · 1 year ago
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JADE THE EDDIE ZOMBIE AU WITH SHY!READER IS EVERYTHING I COULD HAVE WISHED FOR! could I request eddie cuddling the reader for the first time? maybe shy!reader gets an infection from her injuries or gets sick and he has to cuddle her to keep her warm??
thank u! eddie zombie au —you and eddie get to know one another and share a shy cuddle. fem!reader, 1.4k
tw throwing up/ vomit mention 
You're in the kind of pain that makes you nauseous whenever you move, and medication isn't making it better. Eddie —your saviour, and your new friend— keeps you doped up generously, but you're terrified to take the strong stuff and he's not eager to give you anything too sedative anyhow. 
"I don't want you to think I'm being selfish," he says, laying on the floor next to the dusty couch that makes for your sick bed, "but I don't know what dose is right, especially when you've had half a bottle of Tylenol in two days. And you had that rum. I should not have let you drink that." 
The rum numbed the pain quickly, but mixing alcohol and painkillers is a terrible idea. You'd been in agony and couldn't have cared less at the time, meanwhile Eddie's adrenaline wore off and he confiscated the bottle. Two hazy days later and you're not feeling any better than you had. It's concerning.
"I think I feel sick," you confess. 
Eddie sits up. When he looks at you, it's with all the care and concern of someone who's known you for years rather than days. "How sick?" 
"Just… sick." 
He holds up his hand carefully. "Can I?" he asks. You nod, and he presses his knuckles to your forehead, moving it an inch lower as he feels for your temperature. 
Eddie frowns. "Alright, not great." 
He eases your shirt up your hip. You're shy, sure, but his touch feels disarmingly intimate, his fingertips barely touching you as he peels the medical tape away from your gauze. He's already changed it twice. Your wound is messy even with his frankly impressive stitching. 
How come you're so good at them? you'd asked him. 
Well, I– I played this game with my friends and we made costumes, sometimes. Guess it came in handy. You know, it's funny, I had to give myself a couple of stitches a while back and it was Shelley-esque. 
Maybe 'cos you couldn't feel them… How are we going to take them out? you'd asked. 
His easy smile abated. Um. Well, we'll figure that out.
Eddie peels the gauze from your hip. "Don't look." 
"What?" you ask, looking down. 
Eddie puts his hand in front of your face. "Don't look, I don't want you to panic again." 
"Is it worth panicking over?" you ask. 
"I don't think it is, but if you see it you'll panic because it's your cut. I think I'm gonna wash it again, okay? Does that sound cool?" 
"I can do it," you say. 
"You don't do it, that would require looking at it."
"I can't look at it," you insist. 
Eddie does the strangest thing, a short line stroke against the uninjured skin beside your wound. He's trying to comfort you, you realise. 
This is why you wouldn't mind being friends with him. If he was going to murder you, he probably wouldn't have bothered saving your life, and he's been really friendly, even when you puked up your dinner yesterday and he had to help you change, too weak from blood loss to do it yourself. He made you more dinner afterwards, too, heating up a can of something on a camping butane fire. 
He's a nice person, you think. A good person.
Eddie washes your wound with water warmed and then left to cool over the camping fire. He pats it dry with a cotton pad, shushing you sympathetically when you whimper. "I have an antiseptic," he says gently, "a real one, not just the rum. We'll put some of that on and let it breathe, yeah?" 
"Whatever you think you should should," you say. 
"Okay. Sit tight. It might hurt again." 
The antiseptic is cold, and it stings for a few seconds where the warm water hadn't. When he's done, Eddie wipes his hands clean and folds your shirt up to keep the cut unmarred. 
You relax, Eddie diligent at your side. He unveils a pack of goldfish snacks he'd been saving for a special occasion and won't listen to you when you refuse them, opening them and pouring a splash of them onto your chest. "They're birthday cake flavour," he says. 
"Don't give me your nice food," you say. 
"Why not? I'm happy to do it. Just eat them. Unless you don't like them? I'm eighty percent sure I have twinkie, and there's a tiny Hershey's bar. Do you like chocolate?”
You eat some of his snacks and reject everything else he offers you. You only get up to use the bathroom (a bucket you'd rather not talk about). Eddie brings you some more warm water and a cloth when the sun sets to wash and sits in the kitchen of the pizzeria to offer you some privacy. 
The staff room feels scary without him. You've known him for not even three days, and already you're worried he's going to run off without you. Considering you'd probably die if he left you now, it's a typical reaction, but he's being so nice. You'd been fucking tired of dragging yourself from one place to another; having someone else waiting on you is a miracle. 
A reprieve. 
"Eddie?" you call. 
"You okay?" 
"You can come back. I'm done." 
"Awesome," he says, quick to turn the corner. He checks that his wagon and bike are still connected before rolling them to the back of the room. With everything done for tonight, he secures the room, hooking a chair under the door handle, and pushing a half filled water tank in front of it. 
"Need anything else?" he asks, crouching in front of you. 
"No," you say gratefully.
"Okay." He sits down on the floor, laying back, your bodies in line and apart. "Tell me if you do." 
You puked on his blanket, too, and he hadn't been able to wash it. He took all the gross stuff, your ruined clothes, blood and vomit covered, and chucked it outside far from the building.
"I'm really sorry about… making such a mess," you say, turning as onto your side as you can manage. 
"Don't be sorry, you couldn't help it." 
"Did you–" You lick your lips quickly. “There's room up here. Not a lot, I know, but you don't have to sleep on the floor. It's getting cold." 
"I don't wanna squish you," he says. 
"I can handle some squishing. You've done so much for me, I don't like that you're on the ground." You clear your throat. "If you want to. I don't mind," you mumble. 
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable." 
"It's okay," you say, shifting as far into the back of the couch as you can. It's nice and wide but he'll have to lay on his side to fit. "It might be nice. It really is cold." 
As soon as you've said it, your skin flushes with heat. Embarrassment has you staring resolutely at the wall, more eager than you want to be as Eddie sits on the couch and eases onto his side, legs straight, arms tucked in. It's never going to be comfortable. 
"You can touch me," you say. "It's fine."
Beyond his grazing fingers, you haven't been touched with anything akin to kindness since before the apocalypse began. You want it badly, so badly that his arm pressed over your waist makes you cringe at first. 
"Kinda awkward," he says. 
"I don't remember the last time…" 
You turn your head toward his but close your eyes. Eddie sighs, his body heat already seeping into your side where he's cuddling into you. His arm relaxes over your front, and you relax in turn beneath him. 
"Me neither," he murmurs. "Don't let me hurt you, okay? Push me off if I get too close to your hip." 
You agree. Things are strange for a while, the nerves of being close to him strangling any pleasure, but eventually Eddie falls asleep, his face falling into the slope of your shoulder, and you wrap your arm around his waist to keep him from falling on the ground in his sleep, and the strangeness melds to bone-deep relief. 
It's very, very nice to be held by someone. 
Eddie's curls tickle your face. He snores in his sleep. You try your best to ignore it. 
457 notes · View notes
swiftiewillwrite · 7 months ago
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caramel iced coffee -
a spencer agnew fanfic
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pairing - spencer agnew x reader
warnings - none! slight anxiety for like a paragraph :)
a/n - hello!!! ive written a ton of fanfics but only published two, and this is my first published on tumblr! hope yall enjoy !!
You stand behind the counter, muscle memory making your fifth pumpkin spice latte in a row. Oh, how you love fall. Even during your least busy time of day, you still get to spend what feels like forever on overly complicated drinks.
You hand the last one to a teenage girl, looking very apologetic. You give her a smile.
“Next!”
Woah. the man who now stands in front of you was definitely gonna fuck up your work day. He wore thinly framed round glasses and had messy curly hair, plus a beard that you found all too attractive. You attempted to compose yourself. “What can I get you?”
The man stared blankly for a moment, then responded. Must've not gotten a lot of sleep last night. “Uh.. what do you recommend?”
“Oh! I guess I'm kind of a sucker for anything caramel, do you want something hot or cold?”
“Really just make me your favorite, I haven't done this in a while.”
“What, ordered coffee?” you joked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“Ooh-kay, name for the order?”
“Spencer.” (god, why is it always the s names?)
“Alright Spencer, that will be 5 bucks, just tap or swipe or do whatever, and I'll have that ready for you in just a minute.” you smile, not letting the customer service voice falter, ignoring the unholy visions of what you wanted this man to do to you invading your mind.
You set to work on another overly complicated drink. Usually you would be complaining your ass off to yourself right now, but youre the one who subjected yourself to this. You're too weak when it comes to cute customers.
Working alone on slow days was your favorite kind of shift, because you got to play your own playlist. Today, that was a bit more of a curse as you notice Spencer humming along.
As you placed the lid on the cup, you looked up to the booth where he was waiting. He looked away immediately, as if he had already been staring. You hoped that he was.
Walking out from behind the counter, you set the cup on the table in front of him. “Here you go,”
He smiles softly, uttering a soft thanks. You made your way back to the counter, watching from a distance as he collected his things and walked out of the cafe.
God, you had never wanted a new regular more.
The next morning, he was back. Looking up at the door as the bell rang, you saw him once again. Spencer was wearing a graphic tee, revealing tattoos you hadn't seen yesterday. You felt a smile creep up your face, but a pit form in your stomach with no discernible cause. Before you could get too lost in thought, though, Spencer was at the counter, ready to order.
"Hey,” you smiled, “Are you ready to order for yourself today, or want another surprise?”
He let out a soft laugh, a sound that made your heart leap out of your chest. “If it isn't too much of a burden-,” he started, the last word dripping with sarcasm. “-I would enjoy a surprise drink.”
You sigh dramatically, “Fine,” drawing out the word with childlike brattiness. “Here or to go?”
Spencer said something he never could have if actual thoughts were going through his head:
“Here, but only if you sit with me while I drink,”
Holyshitholyshitholyshit- “Keep trying, maybe you'll get there eventually. Your total is 5.25.” You joked, a smile on your face covering your internal freak out over the fact that you just rejected the hottest guy you had ever seen.
And try he did. Every day, without fail, he came into your cafe, ordered his usual (your usual) and asked you to sit with him. And every day, you were too afraid to say yes.
"Are you sure that you don't want something new?”
“Give me the drink, please.”
You raised your eyebrows at him, but got to work making his drink. For the first time in three weeks, he stayed near the counter as you made it. As you let the coffee brew, you leaned on the counter, looking at him.
“So.. why are you always here so early? Like; this is earlier than all my other usuals,”
“You have other usuals? Wow, and I thought I was special,”
“Yes, I have other usuals. But you might be a favorite.” you smiled at him softly, and he returned the look. “Answer my question, though. Why are you here at like.. Six every day? How early do you work?”
Spencer looked slightly uncomfortable, then spoke. “I actually don't have to be there until 10 most days.”
“Hmm?”
“Well, I work at this Youtube comedy company, and so the first time I came here was a shoot week, so I did have to be at work by 7 to set up. It's just that when that week ended… I decided to just always get here early.”
“Wait, what company? Also, why? Why not just come later?” you questioned, trying to silence the hopeful voice in your head saying that you were the reason he kept coming back.
“It's less busy at this time. I get to actually talk to you.” What.
“Oh.. that's really sweet, man.” Man? Why would you say that- “I like talking to you too. So where do you work?”
Spencer looked slightly reluctant, but you tried to not read into it. “It's called Smosh,”
You perked up. “No shit? I was obsessed with Smosh when I was younger. Like- I got home from school every day and immediately pulled up whatever was posted that day,” you notice him looking down, and poke his arm, near a tattoo of a thwomp. “Why didn't you want to tell me?”
Spencer looks up at you. “Hmm?”
“You tried to change the topic. What's up?”
He purses his lips, then softly says “I didn't want that to be the only reason you like me. Or- like talking to me. Sorry.”
You open your mouth to respond, to tell him his worries were wrong, but are interrupted by the sound of the bell on the door. You look up and see your favorite coworker. “Hey Zoë! Can you watch the counter for like.. Two minutes for me?”
She raised an eyebrow at you and the man standing next to you. “It's about to get really busy.”
“I know, I know, just- please?” you looked at her, and she must've seen the desperation in your eyes, because she responded-
“Fine. Just be back soon. Love ya.”
You looked at her like she had just saved your life, and turned back to Spencer. “Wanna talk at a table?” Spencer just looked at you like you had grown a second head, but nodded. When you sat down, you started talking again. “I really like talking to you. And I did before you told me you have my childhood dream job. I like your humor and your laugh and your hair. I like your taste in music and movies and I like you.”
Spencer took a moment to collect his words. He couldn't find any, so he just leaned across the table and kissed you. A million thoughts raced through both of your heads, until you heard Zoë cough at you from behind the counter, and pulled away.
“Sorry.” Spencer apologized. You shook your head with a smile, and asked if you could put your number in his phone. He handed you the device, and you pondered for a moment before you put your name in as ‘beautiful sexy perfect human’. You texted yourself a “hey” from his phone, and added his name as ‘spenner’. He took his phone back, immediately letting out a “Shit! I have to get to work.” When he saw the time, and standing up to leave.
You frowned, but as he walked out and let the door close behind him, you sent him a simple two word text.
spenner
bye cutie
He was still close enough that you could see him smile through the window when he opened his phone. You turned to the counter to get back to work, when Zoë asked you:
“Was that Spencer Agnew?”
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yourpicasso25 · 5 months ago
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I will tell you a secret...
It's an easy but important one. So, question: Put 2 (or more) French people at a table. What are they going to talk about?
Fashion? It would depress most of us, especially not rake thin women 40s or older (and swimming costumes are NEVER to be mentionned, it's bordering on hanging offense)
Politics? first, we're irritable and sorta cranky by nature... but we're not crazy (mostly. Sorta)
Any ideas? (no peeking, and tell me what you guessed in the comments)
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Done?
So let me tell you: Put 2 or more French people around a table, and what they will talk about is:
What they are eating right this minute, what they ate (any day any time from yesterday to 25 years ago), what they will eat in the more or less distant future.
Food (and drinks because they are related... no seriously) is a very VERY important business in France.
And one key element of that are the markets
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Most small towns have permanent markets, mostly build in the 19th century in glass and iron structure like the Pavillons Baltard in Paris
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There are permanent foodstall, jams and delicacy homemade cakes ans speciality local produces (and fish, of course!)
Then there are Market days. Twice a week.
And those are IMPORTANT days, people.
Because it's the place where you find the best produce, the tomatoes that graw up 2 miles away and the local honey that you can be pretty sure is actual bee vomit and not artifially colored glucose sirup (I was sooo angry when I learned that one)
So I'm giving you TWO markets. The everyday, business as usual one AND the market day one when everyone goes there with a couple of baskets to refuel both stomachs and conversation topics.
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Next is this place, a big old town building
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It has a shop downstair shop and a local on the first floor (I'm thinfing Yoga), a NPS lodging, an a big duplex appartment... with terrace, if you please.
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The owners are well traveled, and settled in Voegel because they couldn't even dream to have that kind of flat in Paris (more like a broom closet)
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There is an office, a VERY teenage girl bedroom with all sort of pop idols posters (mom despair... what happened to her little girl? Puberty, m'am), the aging (NOOOOO!) couple bedroom and a smallish but aquequate bathroom.
And a somewhat messy kitchen.
I'm getting vibes of a couple of 50 ish, Bobo Parisien, quite artistically inclined and maybe a bit snobbis, with limited artistic success so dad works as local newspaper photograph and mom mans the shop and gives yoga classes on the side.
Their daughter litterally CAN'T WAIT to leave that backmater island do go to University on the continent.
Isn't it funny how history can repeat itself sometimes?
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day-drawn-blog · 1 year ago
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Part II : Slow burn ❤️‍🔥
Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight
I feel your breath on my neck, the soft caress as cold as death
Your blood like wine, I want it in, oh darling make me drink and make me feel
- I want to live
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Tags: angst, fluff, sadness, angst, fluff, then maybe eventually smut because I do love that
Pairing: Astarion x Reader -- Set in Act I
Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon
Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight
Part III : Maybe tonight, I'll rest in peace
Part IV : There is much to do and I still want to live
Part V : Our futures bound, our bodies known
Part VI : These ain't my sins, I'm not to blame
Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours
Part VIII: your blood like wine invites me in
Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance
Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die
---------
Next day, you woke up early and you remembered the rollercoaster your heart had been through. And your little secret. Ah, you almost forgot. So caught up were you in your pining you ignored the safety of those around you, and the resolve you had made last night to help and protect those around you. And right now, nothing posed more of a threat than a blood sucking vampire posing as an ally. You did not quite trust him yet. After all, you did not know him well at all.
You left your tent, resolved to confront him.
To settle this issue as best as you can on behalf of those innocent of his real identity. You spotted him next to his tent. His messy curls, even more disheveled in the morning. But his countenance brighter than yesterday. You wondered if it was the effect of the favor you did him. Somehow a part of you felt happy, that you made a difference to him.
You broached the subject.
"Can we talk?" He looked up surprised. "About your... condition. I was curious how we were going to feed you from now on."
His eyes widened.
I guess he did not realize you would confront him about this first thing in the morning. But it has to be done, sooner the better. Before everyone else wakes up. "How... how are you?" He managed, flustered. At least he has it in him to be polite and ask, you thought. You approved of his shallow charm. Now to the point.
"I am alright. But I am worried." "You have my word. I will never put any of us in harm's way. And if I ever do, I will ask, first" he flashed his cheeky grin. You almost gave in. And then suddenly, rustling behind him, startled you both.
Shadowheart walked out of his tent.
You were completely blindsided, Astarion was more embarassed and looked away.
Shadowheart was surprisingly, normal. "Good morning. Are you guys planning breakfast? I heard talks about a meal, or something... " she drawled in her usual charming manner.
"Ah yeah.. something like that.."
you managed to say, and decided to drop it. Before your heart shattered into pieces again, you decided, you walk away.
You wished you could leave them at camp.
So you didn't have to be distracted by those two as you navigated such dangerous lands. But, you all always travelled together and at least there will be other people, to distract you, from Shadowheart and Astarion's intimate moments together, where he held out his hands, to help her on a step. Or she cast her guidance and radiance to protect him, or where he took out a threat with his sneak attack before they ambushed her.
You felt weaker in combat that day.
Several times, Karlach had to protect you. You almost got knocked down, and she had to help you up. Thankfully Wyll had your back too. You felt terrible how much you let this matter get to you. Back at camp, exhausted, and down to your last breath, you decided to put him out of your head once and for all. You needed to wash up, and rest.
This was not serving you.
As you sat in your tent that night, going over the events of the day. You felt tears come up. You wanted to be the one being protected. Looked after..by him. To be important enough.
To be valued and loved, by him.
Dammit. Why should you put him on a pedestal like this. Better start thinking really hard how you could avoid that from happening again. This was your only way. Should you ask them to stay behind at camp the next day? No ..you need every ally you can get fighting for your life.
Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by approaching footsteps. You were confused, you thought everyone had gone to bed early that night, tired from all the ambush you had faced that day. So who was it? And why were they coming inside your tent?The tent flaps parted, and you saw a familiar tall silhouette.
You stopped breathing in surprise.
You both stared at each other for a few moments before he broke silence. "I am sorry to disturb your rest, the hour is late. Terribly, and truly" and it seemed like he was second guessing himself and walking back out again. Then he stopped and turned around "You see, this was my first.. I had never drank from a ...thinking creature before. Cazador... my master, would only ever let me feed on rats. "
Where was he going with this?
"Would you be so kind, as to grant me this favor one more time? I completely understand if you don't want to, and this is, well very embarrassing for me to admit" You could see his ears turn red as he shiftily looked anywhere but at you. "But ever since last night, I have not been able to forget... how you tasted". "I could do anything for one more time...please?" And he looked at you with his eyes full of endless misery, that familiar pleading voice and gaze...
You were weak against that but you were annoyed.
Who does he think he is. Does he think himself so charming that he can just waltz into your tent, demanding you donate your blood for free while he went back to Shadowheart right after? You did want to be the hero to those that needed you, but this is just taking advantage of you. You liked him a little less at that point. You were fully resolved to turn him down. After all, this felt wrong, not just to you, but to Shadowheart as well.
You got up.
"I am afraid, Astarion, I will have to turn you down tonight. Isn't Shadowheart waiting for you? What will she think of your absence?"
"She doesn't know. No one does. And I would like to not tell everyone, as long as I can, if you help me. You are the only one, who knows. And if everyone were to find out, I am afraid they would not show me the kindness you did. I would be cast aside. And left to fend for myself."
For all the outward intimacy between him and Shadowheart, you realized, they were not after all, close at heart. What did you expect. Did you expect him to be someone that would allow himself to fall in love with someone or genuinely love and care for someone other than himself? Your first impression of him, was right. The suave and snooth bad boy, with a thousand charms was after all, just that.
You sighed.
Battling with your moral dilemma. You wanted to cave, and earn his trust even more, and maybe a bit of affection. But was that really the right way to go about it. To exploit his weakness? You couldn't. You needed to save everyone. Even the ones that were too proud to admit they needed saving. You sighed again.
"Astarion, I would like to help you. However I cannot, be your only source of.. sustenance. This will affect me in battle. And I thought we agreed you would feed on our enemies, since they are as good as dead, as you said."
If he was disappointed he did not let it show.
"But of course. I only just wanted a little bit. You wouldn't even feel it. I promise. It will be a gift, that I will never forget" He looked at you with his intense gaze that sometimes betrayed the storm raging inside him you suspected. "I understand..." His countenance fell. He was pained. "Have a good sleep. I'll see you around in the morning" And he turned to leave.
"Wait"
Dammit. You cannot turn him down. Or anyone. When they genuinely seem to need your help. But did Astarion really need you? Or was he being greedy? Were you being deceived? Probably. Behind the facade of one who seeks your help is someone simply using you. You felt that. And yet, you were drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.
"Yes, you can...again, tonight. Only a little bit"
"Really? You would?" Genuine surprise in his voice. He quickly stepped in and drew the tent flaps shut. He took your hand and suddenly took the lead. Taking you to the back, gestured to you to sit. You sat down, he knelt in front of you, lifted your arm like last time, with both his hands, gave it a kiss, and looked at you one more time, as if to ask for your permission one last time, and when you nodded, proceeded to bear his fangs at which you looked away.
It didn't hurt, nor did it last longer than a few minutes. Afterwards he drew away, and sat down next to you, as if sated to his utmost. A grin across his face like last time. you looked at your wrist, and the two little dots where his fangs had pierced your skin. The ones from last night were fading. Tonight's red. He looked at you looking at your wrist. "Does it hurt?" He seemed...guilty.
"Let me wrap it"
He proceeded to tear a bit of linen from somewhere nearby and tie it around the bite marks. Hiding your doing, I see. This is no act of kindness. You felt your resolve melt. You felt glad to have been of use to him. But also sad, he was about to leave. And go back to shadowheart. You had served your role. He had used you, and no longer needed you.
Thank you ...you whispered to him
Part III : Maybe tonight, I'll rest in peace
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otherone12 · 5 months ago
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I Never...
Jealous!Mikey Way × Reader
-> Masterlist
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A/N: Hey!! Again, nobody ask me for that, but i had THE idea. I was listen to my favorite playlist and “Mr. Brightside” started play. I thought about how it would be interesting to write about someone that's not Gerard… Well, here's a Mikey imagine. (Frank × Reader fic coming soon)
Summary - You start to date Mikey, and when you meet his friends and his brother, he starts to be a little too jealous, and that's become possessive and scarry.
- Word Count: 1.672
- Warnings: Possessive!Mikey
- Ps: This is just fiction, if you don't like this kind of fic, don't read it.
- Ps2: They/them pronouns!
- Ps3: I'll not use y/n…
- Ps4: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language ... sorry if i wrote something wrong.
___________________________________________
1st person POV
Mikey and I met two years ago in our senior year, we became really close while we have the same classes and he was my partner at chemistry class. We like the same movies, the same bands and we’re both ‘the weirdos'. The connection between us was so intense then after some months our friendship turned to something a little more serious, and three weeks ago he asked me to date him. I said yes, of course. 
   We always hang out anywhere, just to enjoy each other’s company, smoking, drinking and talking under the moonlight. I can’t explain how it is to be with him, I just want that what we have will never fade out. 
   I’ve never met his family or friends, probably because we're too busy. They are a band, and i have a job too, so when we find free moments we want to be alone together, just him and i. Anyways, yesterday Mikey invited me to meet his friends and his brother. I’ll not lie, i was so fucking nervous about that, because i know that they come at first than me, so if they didn’t like me, it’s all over.
   There was I, at the front door of his house. I felt my stomach churn with nervousness. Mikey talks a lot about how much he cares about them and how amazing they are, but I couldn't stop overthinking at the possibility that they will hate me. 
   I heard footsteps and the creaking of the door soon after. 
- Finally! - He looked so excited that I forgot about my anxious thoughts for a second. - I’m so glad you're here… I haven't shut up a second about you since we set up this..
   He came close to kiss me before I could say anything, his cold hands on my hips made me shiver, but I got used to this a long time ago. 
-Well, i didn’t stop to think about it too… like in an unhealthy way, but  i’m fine now, i guess. - I smiled at him and he held my hand.
- I’ll be there with you, don’t need to be nervous, babe. - The kind look behind his glasses calmed me down. I wasn’t calm enough, but it helped a lot. - Can we come inside? 
- Yeah… I'm ready. - I laughed and he closed the door behind us, still holding my hand.
   Was not my first time at his house, though at the last time, the house was empty, and I wasn’t about to throw up white nervousness.  
  We walked to the living room and I saw three guys sitting on the couch. The first one to get up to say ‘hi’ has a black messy long hair, and was wearing a Star Wars shirt, I knew the moment I saw him that he was Gerard, Mikey’s brother.  
-So, this is my brother Gerard. - Mikey said, and Gerard shook my hand with a friendly smile.
- It's awesome to finally meet you! - Gerard says - Mikey talks A LOT about you. Like... all the time.
-Probably not as much as he talked about YOU. - I said and we giggled.
- I think you talk too much about anything… - The second guy started, he was shorter than the others and had a lip and a nose piercings. I deduced that it was Frank. - He is supposed to be the quiet one, right?
- Why don’t you go fuck yourself? - Mikey turned a bit red, which is really cute. 
- Calm down, guys. We don’t need to fight… not now, not here, neither with an audience. - The last one seems to be the ‘dad’ kind, with an amazing curly hair, I was sure that was Ray. - I’m Ray, and he’s Frank. It's incredible to meet you.
   We spent the whole afternoon talking, laughing, knowing each other better and eating some snacks. But I felt that Mikey wasn't enjoying that as much as the rest of us. I just wanted to know why.
Mikey’s 1st person POV
Don't get me wrong, I loved the fact that they were getting along, but the way Gerard was talking with MY partner was, at least, too much. The giggles and arm touches…
What if they liked Gee better than like me?? I mean, It's not without reason, he's an incredible guy, but I saw them first, HE HAS NO RIGHT TO STOLE THEM!
They're so excited… what if-
- Are you kidding? That's one of my favorite comic artists ever! - Why did they seem so close to him? They just met! - I have like… about twenty of his comics in my collection.
- NO WAY! You need to show me. - Gerard never gets along with people by the first conversation, maybe they had met before, maybe he was hanging out with them and just pretending they don't know each other. - And I can show you mine, if you want.
“Please say ‘no’” I begged in my head. I felt weird thinking this, but who wouldn't? Gerard is not the kind of guy who could do this, but anyway he is doing it right now.
- Sure! - Their eyes were glowing, and i can't help but feel my stomach in knots and my blood boiling with the idea of my brother at their house. - Maybe the next time Mikey goes there, he brings you too. So you can see my whole collection.
I was trying to focus In any other thing, but i couldn't, because when Gerard finally stop to fucking flirt with them, Frank came up and started to do the execly the same thing.
- So, you said you're learning to play guitar? - NO FUCKING WAY. I squeezed their hand tighter, which made em look at me confused - Ray and I could teach you some nice rifs.
My mind sounded like an off air TV, just noises and disjointed voices that made me want to scream, I stopped hear everything that was said in that room. I'm not this kind of guy, but when you love someone, you start to want to keep everybody far from them, right?
That conversation seemed to take days, but when it finally ended I was glad. I didn't say a word.
1st person POV
Mikey and I were walking outside the house, ‘cause he insisted on taking me home.
- Mikey, babe, are you okay? - He normally is the quiet one, but he was extremely quiet - You were acting a bit different… Did I say something wrong?
- What? No, I'm fine, and you did nothing wrong. - He didn't look in my eyes and kept walking. - And… you liked them?
- Yeah! They're awesome… - I forgot how nervous I was before meeting them, they’re nicer then Mikey told me - but are you sure that you're okay?
I took a pack of cigarettes from my purse and lit it up with my red lighter. The twilight was so shining and we were walking together. This should be the best way to finish this day, but Mikey was upset with something, I know him enough to be sure of that.       
- Uhum… - He took a drag from the cigarette in my hand - And about bringing Gerard with me the next time I go to your house…
He halted his walking and looked directly at my face. Mikey opened his mouth to start to talk, but I didn't let him.
- Wait… is this about him?
Mikey took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes in anger.
- It's not about HIM, but the way he was talking to you - He sighed and his voice seemed to tear out his throat - And the way Frank talked to you… was just too much, don't ya think?
- Not at all… - I cannot believe that he was jealous. He's not that kind of guy, and why with his friends? - You know that I'm all yours, but I really don't think they're flirting with me or something. We just have a lot in common.
He came closer to me fast and grabbed my hips, narrow enough to make me a bit scared.
- But I think so… - His trembling and insecure voice, combined with a harsh tone I had never heard before, made me swallow hard for fear and concern. - You are so damn naive.
- I- I actually don't think so, Mikey, but-
- You know fucking nothing! - He spoke a little too loudly as he pushed me against the wall, people around us started to steer, but he didn't seem to care.- They WERE being too "friendly" and if you are still saying that they were not, I will start to think that you liked this!
- DUDE! - If he thinks that I'm the kind of person who accepts this kind of thing, he's wrong. - Calm down…
I tried to let go of his arms, but he held even more tight. I could scream for help, however I really love him, and I know we can go back to normal.
- Sorry… - He let me go and scratched the back of his neck nervously - I don't know what happened to my head… I swear, I'm never gonna do this again. Please don't leave me.
He broke in front of me, the anger turned into tears in his face. The desperation in his eyes shocked me and I couldn't react for a few seconds.
- Please say something, babe… 
   The lost puppy eyes… I couldn't help but compare it to how out of it he was moments ago.
- I'm not gonna leave you, Mikey. - I took a deep breath and held his face. - But, please, talk to me, instead of letting things get this far. 
   I kissed him softly and he barely reacted.
-I promise…
Mikey’s 1st person POV
   I know I promised them that I would leave this alone and talk to them instead of acting that way, but I followed them everywhere. After this day, I couldn't sleep well if I was not sure that I knew exactly where they were. 
   This probably sounds a bit creepy and obsessive, but I swear, I never.
___________________________________________
~ So... that's it. I TOTALLY would write a pt2 of this.
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starrgaziinggg · 11 months ago
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FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS | LEE MINHO
PART NINE -> epilogue (6k words)
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"JEONGIN!"
There's moments in life when you're genuinely terrified. Like when you used to get called on from your scariest teacher with no clue what the answer to the question was. Or when you wake up in the middle of the night after hearing a loud noise and can't move a muscle for hours afterwards.
Now is one of those instances. You feel yourself practically jump out your skin when you hear Seungmin screech the younger boys name, taking your sunglasses off of your face instantly to catch a glimpse of the commotion.
How naive of you to expect a relaxing, stress relieving getaway with your friends. How naive indeed.
"You've crossed the line this time, kiddo," Seungmin seethes, traipsing round the decking in search of his target. "Where the hell is he?"
"Fuck me if I know," you say lazily, placing your sunglasses back on your face and settling yourself into your sun lounger again. You and Hyunjin had an ongoing competition to see who could get the best tan over the course of your week long holiday, and you'd be damned to waste precious sunbathing time whilst he was at the shops to get breakfast for everyone.
"Gross, don't say that," Seungmin grimaces, chucking you a bottle. "You're burning up, idiot."
You scoff, pulling your sunglasses off for the second time of the morning and dumping them beside you. "Am I really?"
"Yes," Seungmin responds, placing his hands on the railing that oversees the beach you were staying at, looking out to catch a glimpse of Jeongin before giving up and practically falling on top of the lounger beside you. "Unless the aim of the competition you've got with Hyunjin is to see who can look the most like a lobster by the end of the week, I'd lather up."
You sigh, picking up the bottle he'd handed you and rubbing the sunscreen into your arms and chest. "Why are you so mad at Jeongin, anyway?" You ask him, intrigued as to what had interrupted your morning detox. "And why did you think he'd be here?"
"He's a dumbass," Seungmin says, kicking his feet up on the sun lounger as if that explains anything. "And I thought he might be here since you're the only other person still at the resort."
"Everyone's gone?" You ask, closing the lid to the bottle and chucking it into the shade.
"Felix, Chan and Changbin went down to the sea front whilst Minho, Hyunjin and Jisung were at the shops. Jeongin must have gone with them," Seungmin explains, shaking his head. "I'm seriously going to kill him when I find him again."
"I swear if you don't explain what he's done, I'm taking your name off of the lease," you say, throwing him a side glance as you settle back into a comfortable position.
"You can't do that," he mocks, as if you would ever actually take his name off of the lease to your new apartment. You'd just signed it two weeks ago, with Hyunjin and Felix too. It had been stressful trying to find accommodation for your final year of uni, as you weren't entitled to on campus accommodation in fourth year. When Seungmin brought the idea of sharing an apartment close to campus with Hyunjin and Felix to you, it had been an obvious yes.
Sure, living with three boys was probably going to be a nightmare, but you'd just lived with Seungmin for a year and he'd practically kept you afloat, so no matter how messy Felix was or how late Hyunjin stayed up, you figured you could handle it.
"He left my flip flops outside in the scorching sun yesterday," he finally says, offering you an explanation. "I specifically told him not to, because I'd seen online that the brand can partially melt in extreme heat - and who would have guessed? I now have a pile of goo on the ground."
You can't stifle your laugh, giggling openly. It was just such a classic Jeongin move you'd come to realise. He was nothing short of a little shit when he wanted to be. "They can't be a very good brand if they melt in the sun."
Seungmin scoffs. "They weren't made for over 40°c heat. Plus, I may or may not have bought them from a dodgy website," he complains, though you know he's over exaggerating. You could put money on the fact his flip flops were only slightly damaged. "He knows exactly what he's done as well. He'd written an, 'I'm sorry, Seungmin' note right on top of the goo pile for me to wake up to this morning."
You laugh openly this time, shaking your head at your friends actions. "Unsurprising."
Seungmin hums. "Yeah, I'll get my revenge at some point," he assures you, turning to give you an evil grin. "He's gonna hate choosing me as a roommate for this trip, I swear."
The resort you were staying in abroad, found by Chan (of course, as the self proclaimed 'dad' of your friend group), had large apartment like rooms that joined together and allowed you a private stretch of gorgeous white sand beach. Each room had a balcony area overlooking the beach, which you were currently taking full advantage of.
"I thought you chose Jeongin as a roommate?" You ask, turning on your side to properly face your friend.
"Jeongin is the least gross out of everyone," Seungmin answers with a grimace. "Other than you, of course. But you're rooming with your lovey dovey -"
He doesn't get to finish his taunt, as the front door to your room flies open. "Honey, I'm home!" Minho shouts, walking through the slide doors onto the balcony. His flip flops patter against the decking before he flops down onto the edge of your sun lounger.
"You're not trying to steal my girlfriend, are you Seungmo?" Minho questions, tilting his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose.
"It wasn't funny the first time you said it, and it's still not funny now," Seungmin responds, making Minho chuckle. Since Minho had popped the big question a couple months ago, he hadn't shut up about you being his girlfriend. His friends, that had now easily become your best friends, were constantly telling him to shut up, especially Seungmin since he spent the most time with you.
"Boo hoo," Minho says lazily, moving himself on your lounger so he was nestled comfortably in between your legs.
"What did you get from the store?" You ask him as he lays his head on your chest.
"Some meat and stuff so we can have a barbecue tonight," he responds. "Snacks, alcohol - some tampons for you."
"TMI," Seungmin winces, though you knew he was only doing it for show in front of Minho. You'd spent a year living with him and he couldn't care less about your period.
"A woman's menstrual cycle is natural," Minho mocks, laughing when Seungmin puts his fingers in his ears.
"Shut up, Jesus," you groan. It was bad enough you'd had to go on holiday while you were at the end of your period, especially in a group of guys, but your boyfriend felt the need to show how 'cool' he was about it in front of your friends, which made him decidedly uncool.
"Anyway," Seungmin says, attempting to stray the conversation away from your menstrual cycle. "What's Hyunjin and Ji up to now?"
"Said they were dumping their shit in their room and meeting the other guys at the beach for the day," Minho explains, stretching his limbs as he looks up at you. "Thought we could join them?"
You him, nodding. "Yeah, sounds good. Seungmin?"
"I'll need to borrow a pair of your flip flops, Minho," he says, and you take that statement as a form of agreement. "Jeongin has decimated mine."
Minho chuckles, pulling himself up from off your chest to sit at the edge of your lounger again. "Fine by me. There's a spare pair sitting on top of my suitcase."
Seungmin grins, getting up to put on Minho's flip flops. "I'm gonna go get changed into swim shorts, I'll get you guys down there?"
"Aye aye, captain," Minho responds, shouting through as Seungmin walks out your room, leaving you and Minho alone on the balcony.
He bends down towards you, leaving a chaste kiss on your lips. "Hi."
You giggle at him, using your hand to shield your eyes from the sun as you look at him, pulling your knees up to your chest. "Hi. Thanks for the tampons, by the way. I forgot to ask for them."
"Yeah, I figured you'd forgotten," he replies lazily, tapping your knees with his fingers. "Not a problem for the best boyfriend ever."
You chuckle at him, shaking your head. Minho had voiced his concerns about not being able to be enough for you, as he'd never been in a proper relationship before, but you'd assured him you'd be able to work at it together. And here you were, happier than you'd been in a long time.
"You look pretty," Minho states outwardly, and you smile knowing he means it. You'd come to realise he didn't give out compliments easily, so when he did it made your heart melt. "Last I saw you, you were a zombie in bed."
"Yeah, well, we were up late last night," you say, which makes Minho snicker. You whack him on the arm. "Don't be crude."
"Says you!" He laughs, grabbing your hand to stop you from whacking him again. You take a second to eye him up - shirtless, in just a pair of swim shorts and flip flops, you thought about how lucky you were that your boyfriend was perhaps the hottest man on the planet.
"Stop eye fucking me," he says slyly, narrowing his eyes at you.
"I'm not eye fucking you," you counter, crossing your arms. That turns out to be a mistake, when Minho's eyes go straight to your boobs.
"You know," he starts lowly, moving closer to you to push a strand of hair behind your ear. "We haven't countered period sex yet, but if you -"
You don't even need to whack him for that one, because he gets hit in the face with a blow up beach ball. Cackling, you catch a glimpse of the perpetrator.
"Get a room!" Hyunjin shouts, laughing maniacally as his bleach blonde hair flies out around him, and you just know Minho's going to kill him for that.
"We have a room!" Minho shouts back, throwing the beach ball back to Hyunjin which he catches, walking up to your balcony from the beach, shirtless and dripping wet. You assume he's already been in the sea.
"Maybe use it?" He says cheekily, and you roll your eyes. "We're gonna play volleyball, get your asses out here."
"I refuse," you say, throwing your hands up with wide eyes. "Not after last time."
Hyunjin giggles, remembering your game on the first day you'd arrived, and how your bikini top had come undone whilst you tried to save the ball. That was not one of your finest moments.
"You can be umpire," he says, tilting his head. You look towards Minho who shrugs, so you turn back to Hyunjin and nod.
"Fine," you say in defeat, standing up off your sun lounger and grabbing your phone and the keys to your room, so you can lock the front and sliding doors and jump the barrier of your balcony onto the beach.
The boys are all round the corner from your balcony, their towels laid out on the sand with some beach umbrellas propped up. Jeongin and Felix are chasing each other up and down the coastline with water guns, whilst Jisung and Seungmin are sprawled lazily out on their towels, taking refuge under the umbrellas from the blazing sunshine. Chan and Changbin are setting up the volleyball net.
As you, Hyunjin and Minho walk towards them, Felix and Jeongin abandon their fight, dropping the water guns by the boys feet.
"Didn't think you'd want to play after last time," Felix says breathlessly, giving you a cheeky grin when you hit him with your beach towel.
"We collectively agreed to never speak about it again," you seethed, listening to the other boys snickers. You choose to ignore Minho's smirk. "Besides, I'm reffing, and your teams already in the minus points."
"Why?" Felix groans, pouting at you.
"Attitude and bad behaviour. Ref rules," you throw back, placing your beach towel down and making yourself comfortable. Minho bends down to give you a peck, ignoring the guys cries of PDA and Jeongin covering his eyes before he calls team captain and the boys split up into two groups. Minho calls the second team captain and gets first pick, choosing Chan instantly.
They were unsurprisingly competitive, as you'd come to find out. If their beer pong tournaments were anything to go by, their volleyball games were even worse. You'd had to settle a multitude of arguments by half time alone - Jisung claiming Changbin was using foul play and Seungmin purposefully making the other team laugh to lose their attention.
Minho's team won in the end, which you could have seen coming from a mile away, since Chan practically carried any team he was on in terms of sports games. By sunset, half the guys had left to shower and the other half were setting up the barbecue, leaving you and Minho alone by the beachfront.
You watch the tide slowly make its way in and out again, the sound calming as Minho lay reading beside you. He's motionless, save from the periodic turn of the page of his book and his thumb swiping over your thigh when he found a comfortable position to hold his book with one hand.
The sun was slowly starting to set, the orange and pink hues of the sky mixing together like paint on a palette. When Minho turns the page to his book again, you pull your sunglasses off of the bridge of your nose to study him.
"What you reading?" You ask him, and he seems to finish the last sentence before looking over to you.
"A book," he says slyly, keeping his thumb in the middle of it but closing it over to look at you. He probs himself up on one arm.
"Oh yeah? Though it was an oven mitt," you reply sarcastically, rolling your eyes.
Minho raises an eyebrow at you. "Oven mitt?"
"First thing I thought of," you shrug, lowering yourself so that your lying flat on your back, closer to him. He looks down at you with a half smile. "But really, what book is it?"
Your boyfriend rolls his eyes as one hand pushes his dusty brown hair out his face, turning the cover of his book around to show you.
"How to deal with rude people with a smile," you read the title aloud as your eyes scan the front cover. "Is this a step by step guide?"
Minho chuckles, shaking his head as he pretends to snatch the book away from you. "No - if you must know, it's one of my favourites, and I'm rereading it and annotating it so I can give it to you."
You blink a couple times at his words, not really comprehending what he was saying. "You're going to gift it to me after you've annotated it?"
"Yeah," he replies, and you watch his ears tinge red - his tell. "After everything that happened with your ex and Sooyun, I just...I dunno. I read this when I needed to, and I thought you could benefit from it as well."
Minho will never let you live it down if you cry in front of him about this, claiming his superiority from his heartfelt gift, so you force a brave face. A smile comes naturally to you at the kind gesture.
"I love you so much, did you know," you say easily, shaking your head almost in disbelief. Minho had opened up to you more than you'd ever thought he would after making your relationship official. He told you about his family; his parents who he loved but did not spend a lot of time with due to them frowning upon his decision to drop his medical degree to pursue dance, how his cats meant everything to him and more...
This just felt as though he was sharing another little part of himself with you.
"What about you, then?" He says, unable to take the compliment without getting somewhat flustered as per usual. "You were reading something earlier in the week."
You hum, turning and digging the book out of your beach bag. You gently throw it onto his lap, watching as he inspects it like you had done his before handing it back to you.
"A poem book?" He says curiously. "'A mouthful of forevers'. Any good?"
"I love it. I've never been a big poem fan but this book...I dunno, her poems really speak to me."
"Okay you freak, read me one," he says blatantly, lying down flat on his back like you and crossing his arms, staring into the sky. He turns to you when you don't reply to him. "Please?"
You choose to ignore his shit eating grin when you open to one of the pages in the book you had dog eared.
"Love Poems, by Clementine Von Radics," you start with a huff, already feeling your tummy flutter under your boyfriends smirk and watchful eye. "I want to kiss you. Like big, fat kisses. Or angels. Or stars. Or something. I don't know. Love poems never make sense to me."
You pause for a second to catch your breath and sneak a peak at Minho as you do, and he's carefully watching you - a serious expression on his features as he nods at you for you to continue.
"Poets say things like Your teeth are flowers or Your eyes are miracles. But you aren't miracles. Or flowers. You are some sweet boy with a good smile and a shaky heart. Come kiss me. I'm in love with the miracle of your body—beside my body."
Minho stays quiet for a second, contemplating your words, and you can't help but feel sheepish.
"I like it because it reminds me of you," you say, although Minho's one of the smartest people you've ever met and you'd be damned if he hadn't already guessed that. "It's like - humans are never supposed to be these amazing, wondrous, beings. But you're you, and even though you will never be this unrealistic perfected poet concoction of a man, you have already shown me what perfect feels like. Because, I guess to me, perfect is good and bad things coexisting in this one little life with you."
There's not another second to babble on, because Minho's easily caught your lips with his own after moving swiftly so that he hovers over the top of you. He keeps himself propped up on an arm beside your head as he depends the kiss slightly before pulling away.
His hair tickles your forehead as he breathes, shaking his head at you. "You know I love you too, right?" He says lowly, dark eyes shifting between your own. "I don't say it that often, but I am so absolutely in love with you and sometimes I just have to sit with my thoughts because I have never known what I have done to deserve you."
His deep words make your heart fill and your grin crack. You figure you must be looking at him maniacally, but you don't care - not when you lowers his head to kiss you again, the feeling one that you will never take for granted. After these months you still feel the same butterflies you felt after that very first time.
"You're sooo in love with me," you can't help but to tease when he pulls away again, watching when he shakes his head with a chuckle. "You're practically on your knees for me."
"I could be later, if you quit acting like a brat in the middle of our nice moments," he says, tilting his head and placing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose. "Now, come on, cause -"
The distraction of Hyunjin and Jeongin making sex noises and kissy faces is one that you surprisingly enjoy, since it firstly means that Minho doesn't notice the way your cheeks are the same colour as your sunburn and secondly, that dinner must be ready. You successfully rope Jeongin into helping you pack up the beach stuff when Minho ends up in the midst of a physical fight with Hyunjin, the two men hollering and rolling around on the sand like children.
Whatever the issue was, you could assume Hyunjin deserved it. The two of them had been ridiculously close recently, after having talked out all their issues back when they weren't on the best of terms. You didn't know if it was just because you and Hyunjin were so close or because they'd finally had a deep discussion together, but they'd been practically inseparable the whole holiday.
Not that you are complaining - you'd take them clinging to each other over the two of them avoiding each other like the plague any day of the week.
"You and Minho hyung are cute," Jeongin goads as he folds Minho's towel, showing you his dimples and widening his eyes. "Kind of gross, but mostly cute."
You take the towel from him and shove it into your back, grabbing your water bottle and waiting for Jeongin to pick up Minho's water bottle before the two of you head towards your bedroom's balcony. "You think?"
He hums, nodding. "Everyone's been saying it all holiday. Especially Hyunjin, which is so weird. To think a couple months ago he was like your relationship's number one enemy is laughable."
You can't help but roll your eyes with a smile at the memory. "He was such a pain in the ass back then, huh?"
"Right?" Jeongin agrees, giving you a hand to help you climb over your balcony decking's railings when you reach it. "I don't know who was a bigger clock block, him or Felix."
He laughs with you when you can't help but to crack up, remembering that one time Minho was helping you dance in the practice rooms and Felix came in at the worst possible time, or when you and Minho were finally opening up to each other and Hyunjin just had to spread a rumour that wasn't true.
"Is it weird that I wouldn't change any of it?" You ask the younger boy, thanking him when he hands you the water bottle.
"Nah," he agrees, his freshly dyed bleach blonde hair (that he'd tried and failed to convince everyone he wasn't copying Hyunjin) forming waves from the sea water he hadn't washed out yet. "It's one hell of a story."
The distant calls for you both to hurry up remind you that you've got food waiting, so you lock your bedroom door and head out back again. By the time you round the corner, you spot the boys in a large circle - your boyfriend in charge of grilling the meat, whilst Felix is preparing what looks like bibimbap. Changbin's also putting together burger buns and salad as Jisung hands out the drinks Seungmin's pouring. Chan seems to be in charge of the whole orchestration, making sure everyone gets a bit of all the foods on their plate.
"You are a grand help," you say snidely to Hyunjin, the only one of them not helping, as he sprawls lazily on a deck chair by the unlit fire pit.
"I was sworn off preparations," he responds, not bothering to look at you. "I'm the visual."
Jeongin shares a look with you as you scoff, getting stuck in to helping when Chan starts handing you plates of food to place on people's seats. "You need a reality check."
"Chan?" He calls lazily.
"He's the visual," Chan shrugs as he hands you another plate, the other guys snickering. "Plus, Minho beat him up earlier."
"What was that even about?" You ask, wanting to be kept in the loop. Your boyfriend catches your eye, rolling his own in response. It's almost a shame to see he's put a t-shirt on, but the way he's rolled the sleeves up over his biceps and his cheeks flushed pink from the heat of the barbecue make you think otherwise.
Since Minho isn't giving you an answer, you turn to Hyunjin, who only gives you a smirk. He pulls his arms up by his head, resting against them. "I only told him that public sex on the beach is actually a crime, and nobody wants to see his massive -"
He doesn't get another word out, after getting hit in the face from a flying beef burger. Jeongin cracks up beside you, and you can't stifle your laugh either, especially when Chan starts shouting.
"We only have so much of them to go around!" He frets, counting out the food items with his fingers. "Stop acting like a child, Minho. Your girlfriends right there."
Minho waves at you with a grin, and you shake your head at him. Seungmin and Jisung finish pouring the drinks, making the rounds and placing them in the cup holders of each chair.
"She's just as bad as him," Seungmin scoffs, picking up a plate full of food and taking a seat beside you. "You know she made me pick out paint samples with her last week? Guess what colour she's painting her bedroom."
Your boyfriend raises you an eyebrow as he finishes passing out the rest of the meat and turns off the barbecue. It must have slipped your mind to inform him of your plans for your bedroom in the new apartment; you were still renting, but the landlord was extremely lenient and allowed you to paint wherever you wanted as long as the apartment looked how did did before you arrived when you eventually leave.
"She wants the ceiling to be pink," Seungmin groans, sending a wave of laughter through your friends. Sometimes being the only girl who regularly hung out with them sucked, and you made a mental note to at least attempt to find another female friend - preferably one who wouldn't steal your boyfriend.
"The ceiling? How are you even gonna reach that, shorty," Changbin laughs, ruffling your hair with his free hand before plonking himself in a seat next to Hyunjin, the rest of the chairs filling up pretty quickly. Minho takes the spare seat beside you, of course.
"I have a vision," you mumble inwardly, ignoring Minho's pout about how cute you were.
You had to admit, Minho's food was delicious - as was Felix's bibimbap, which wasn't to be unexpected. One of your favourite thing's about Minho was his dedication to making food for everyone, one of his love languages- though he'd never admit it out loud.
All of you eat well, chatting together about anything and everything. Hyunjin giving Felix extras from his plate when Felix had finished, the younger boy grinning at him in delight. Changbin and Chan engaging in an arm wrestle, in with Changbin dominates, of course. Jisung, Seungmin and Jeongin having a beer downing competition, spluttering with laughter when Jisung almost chokes on the drink. Minho, a hand on your thigh, watching his friends eat the food he'd made for them in contempt - all of it fills your heart.
To think how miserable you had been, in a relationship you had tried so hard to keep afloat, and a friendship that ended in distrust - how different your life was now was insane.
Hyunjin distracts you from your thoughts, calling your name as he stands up. "Yo, come help me get the ice creams from my room."
You roll your eyes at his request, but inevitably agree, standing up and narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend who slaps your ass as you do so.
"Come on lazy lumps," Hyunjin taunts, calling you as you run to catch up with him walking towards his room. "These ice creams won't get themselves."
"Alright, alright," you sigh, following him into his room and taking a bundle of ice creams he pulls out the freezer. "You're so clingy recently."
He scoffs, making a disgusted face at you. "I'm not clingy," he claims, whilst you tilt your head at him. He closes the freezer with the ice cream packets in his arms, sighing. "Okay, maybe I'm a bit clingy, but you can't blame me. There was a point I thought you and Minho would never talk to me again."
"You're so dramatic," you chuckle, as the two of you walk out the room and back towards your friends. "We've been over this a million times - I don't blame you for anything, and you'd never get rid of me or Minho that easily."
"I know, I know," he says, and you notice his faint smile. The sand gets in between your toes as you walk, so you take your flip flops off to walk barefoot. "I'm just happy about how everything's turned out. Don't tell Minho I said this, but the two of you have never been happier now that you're with each other, and I was a little bitch to think otherwise."
You laugh openly at his compliment, shoving his shoulder fondly as you reach your friends, handing out the ice cream packets.
"You're not trying to get with my girl, are you Hyun?" Minho comments cheekily, which everyone collectively groans at.
"Nobody is trying to steal your girlfriend, dickwad. That joke has been used and abused," Changbin whines, which your boyfriend grins at, as if this was the desired affect of his idiotic comment. Hyunjin only sticks his tongue out at him.
"Says the one that was all over her that first night at the bar," Minho jabs back, which Changbin just smirks at.
"We get it! I'm hot!" You say confidently, scrunching up your nose when Seungmin chucks a rolled up napkin at your face. "And anyway, Changbin's taken now."
Changbin widens his eyes at you as the other boys turn to him in shock because, oh shit, that was a secret you were not supposed to share. There's a chorus of irritated yelling forced towards Changbin, and he looks at you in despair.
"You have a girlfriend?" Felix shouts, standing up and pointing at Changbin. You shoot him a sorry glance as he waves his hands.
"Yes! Okay, it's a very recent thing," he groans. "And you! You were not supposed to tell them!"
You shrug your shoulders apologetically, secretly enjoying the chaos. Minho turns to you, an intrigued smirk on his face.
"And how did you know before any of us?" He asks, no distaste in his tone, just genuine intrigue. One of your favourite things about Minho was how he could not care less about your friendships with the guys, something your ex was almost always complaining about. Minho relished in the fact you got along so well with all his friends.
"I went by Changbin's place to get him to help me fix my broken bedside table for the new place, and she called him while I was over, so it was really only a coincidence," you explain with your hands up.
"Why did you need Changbin's help?" Hyunjin questions. "Am I not good enough?"
"You don't even own a toolbox, Hyun," you say, deadpan, turning to Minho. "And you were away working, so don't start."
"I know, I don't care," he says with a grin, and you laugh at how Hyunjin is more annoyed than Minho. Minho and you had trust and he didn't mind you spending time with others, but Hyunjin was a dramatic baby whenever he wasn't involved. Realistically he just had a bad case of FOMO.
"Anyway," Chan claps, steering the conversation in a different direction. "We're all happy for you Binnie, right guys?"
There's a collective mumble of agreement which you laugh at, watching Changbin get up off of his chair. "On that note, I'm gonna call said girlfriend before the time difference gets too ridiculous. Peace out sluts."
You shake your head at him with a smile, watching as he bounds along the sand towards his room.
"That's it," Jeongin whines. "We've lost another one."
"You're just jealous since you're single," Jisung prods the younger boy, which he shrugs at.
"Yeah," he sighs. "So real."
You drown out the guys conversation, discussing relationships and what not, as you pull out your phone, scrolling your instagram feed. A photo Seungmin posted of you, Felix and Hyunjin pops up - the two boys cracking dumb poses as you laugh at them. You like the photo with a smile, continuing your scroll. The next photo that arises is of Sooyun - a ring adorned on her finger.
Her and Doha had broken up not long after she'd come to your dorm. You'd spoken to her a couple times since then when you'd bumped into each other on campus, though your friendship had never resumed. It was for the best, to stay civil yet cut ties, because she'd hurt you badly and you'd never have trust for her again.
Yet, you were happy for her. She'd gotten into a relationship with one of her family friends from your hometown a couple months after her and Doha had broken up. They'd grown up together, and you'd always suspected they'd end up with each other. You weren't surprised when you heard they were together, and after a year they'd gotten engaged. She beamed in the photo, her fiancé looking at her adoringly as she held up her hand for the camera.
You like the photo, commenting 'congrats!' before showing the photo to Minho. He smiles, knowing you were over the drama and genuinely happy for your friend.
"Maybe it's a thing," he says, tapping your knee with his fingers absentmindedly. "After someone ends their relationship with Doha, they find the love of their life."
You shake your head at him with a smile, knowing he was probably right. The last you'd heard of Doha, he'd dropped out of university and was reputably known as a cheater in your area. Luckily, you hadn't seen him since you'd broken up with him, confirming the theory that when someone isn't meant to be in your life, you'll never see them again.
"I'm fucking exhausted," Jisung yawns, stretching out his limbs. "Should we call it a night, since we're up early to swim with dolphins tomorrow?"
Hyunjin nods, standing up. "Yeah, agreed. Felix, don't you dare let me sleep in. I can't wait to swim with dolphins!"
Felix rolls his eyes, joining Hyunjin as the two of them wave before heading off to their room. Chan starts getting all of your things together as the rest of you help, folding up the chairs and taking all your rubbish from the beach. You all say goodnight to each other as you part ways, you and Minho heading back to your room.
"I love it here," you say as soon as you close the sliding doors, locking them for the night and staring out at the view. "I never want to leave. It's like paradise."
"You know," Minho says, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms round your torso. "I was thinking, after you finish your degree next year, would you want to go travelling with me for a bit? By then I'll have a fair amount of money saved, so we could go wherever you want before you settle down to work."
"Really?" You ask, turning in his embrace to blink up at him. "You want to?"
"Of course. I've thought about it for a while. It would be fun, just the two of us, exploring."
You grin, kissing him on the lips. "I'd do anything and go anywhere as long as I'm with you, you know that, right?"
He chuckles, moving a strand of hair behind your ear. "And I you. Who would have thought friends with benefits could end up like this?"
You playfully hit his shoulder before pulling him into a hug, letting him wrap his arms around you.
"Who would have thought," you agree, sighing into his embrace and thanking the universe for letting your friends with benefits situation turn into the most beautiful love.
And friends with benefits, after a year, is fully complete. I hope you all enjoyed the epilogue, even though you had to wait forever for it. This story will always have a special place in my heart - it’s the reason so many of you read my fics and found my account. Thankyou always for the interactions on this series, love always 🫶🏻🫶🏻
taglist
@skzgallll @tangerminie @nepytune @jeyelleohe @judeduartewannabe @endzii23 @vixensss @odhnlzl101 @yoonguurt @trashieforchannie @xcookiemonsteer @kingsoowolves @woahsehun @laylasbunbunny @sahazzy @hyukastuffies @multifandomtrash-dree @sherlockholmes08 @iam2out @jisungxident @amnmich @linoots @galaxleeknow @kpopwh0r3 @fixation-dump @mal-lunar-28 @zerefdragn33l @i8rsie @strayluvr @yoontaethings @lomllino @biribarabiribbaem @downbadreading @where-is-innie @djeniryuu @lethallyprotected
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gracelaurie · 1 year ago
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Falling into your ocean eyes 🌊 | Orm Marius x Fem!Reader
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Part 7
Warning ⚠️ : really jealousy Orm, kinda angst.
A/N : idk if it's just me, but Patrick Wilson is getting more hot in his 50s 😋, he’s so fresh and yummy.
for the next part click here ➡️ masterlist
Y/N woke up in the morning with Orm hugging her body. They used a thick blanket, and surprisingly she heard Orm snoring in his sleep. It makes her smiling.
She really wanted to continue sleeping because it was very comfortable in her position now, still being hugged tightly by Orm. But when she wanted to close her eyes again, she heard a knock on the door.
Y/N heard the knocking on the door that didn't stop. “Hello? Y/N? Are you there?” said a man from in front of the door.
“Oh fuck.” She said with a quiet voice, “Yeah wait a minute!” She shouted, making Orm wake up from his sleep.
Y/N quickly kissed Orm’s lips and then smiling, “Don’t bother it. Just continue your sleep, Orm.”
“There's someone there...” Orm whispered, getting up from his bed. He’s shirtless and….sexy.
“Yes, let me see him.” said Y/N while wearing her night gown again and kissing Orm’s cheeks.
Y/N walked towards the door while rubbing her eyes. She opened the door and saw a guy who’s much younger than her, that guy was smiling at her with his brown eyes and messy hair.
“Hi, I know you don’t want to see me anymore, and I totally understand why, I’m sorry about what happened last time Y/N, I should’ve told you that I have this superpower thing, I just have to wait until the right time—“
The guy’s words stopped when he saw Orm walking towards the door wearing a white shirt that looked tight on his body. Orm looked at that guy with full of jealousy.
“Well I guess you are her new boyfriend...” said Barry Allen with a surprised expression but he still smilling, he held his pizza box nervously.
“Her future husband.” Orm said with a sharp gaze.
Y/N turned to Orm and glared, “Orm? Didn't we talk about this last night? You said you weren't ready for that and-"
“And I changed my mind." Orm grabbed Y/N's shoulder, “Is that food for us?" Orm raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, of course,” Barry said with a smile that had sadness in it, and gave them the pizza box.
“You know I'm actually here to tell you that I found the house that you’re talking about and the location is on the Northeast coast, I can take you there.” Barry said in a fast tone because he was nervous.
“No need to bother, we've got the house we meant.” Orm said with his eyes still sharp at Barry as if he wanted to finish him off right then and there.
“Orm!” Y/N snapped, “we need to see it. Besides, we just arrived at this hotel yesterday and haven't looked for a house yet.”
Y/N turned to Barry and said, “you can take us there, but i’m afraid it’s really far away.”
“I just saw it and it looks very good and suitable!” Barry said in a reassuring tone, “maybe it’s only 1 hour away”
“No need for that, we can go there ourselves without a tour guide,” said Orm in a sarcastic tone.
“Orm!" Y/N sighed, “this is for us…”
“You can teleport us to that place, we don’t need to bring this guy...” said Orm then turned to Barry, “thank you for the information, you can go now.”
“Orm! How can I take us there if I don’t even know what the place looks like?” Y/N made an annoyed face
“That’s not a reason, you bewitched my mind, entered my mind as if you really lived in Atlantis.” Orm answered.
“Wow, are you from Atlantis?" said Barry, who previously looked listless but now looked amazed. “You know Aquaman?”
“Who the fuck Aquaman?” Orm asked confusedly.
“That’s what surface people call Arthur.” Y/N answered.
“Oh, yeah, he’s my half-brother.” Orm replied in a lazy tone.
“Wow! That’s really impressive. I used to work with Aquaman when we wanted to defeat Darkseid. Before that we had talked a few times, maybe we talked a lot, but he never said anything about you. Oh or maybe he thinks that I'm not that close to him so he doesn't say much about his personal life.” said Barry very enthusiastically but it was clear that Orm really didn’t like him.
“I was the King of Atlantis at the time.” said Orm briefly, “now, my future wife and I need some private time…” Orm quickly closed the door.
when the door is completely closed. Orm walked to the bed and opened his clothes again, showing his very sexy six pack body with a pitiful face.
“So…. Is he your lover since I was in prison?” Orm asked in a very low voice.
“He was. I broke up with him 2 days before I met you. When I found out that your mother wanted us to get married.” Y/N said.
Orm tucked Y/N’s hair behind her ear, “how could you like a weird surface dwellers like him?" Orm said in a dismissive tone
"Well, he was nice to me, and he seemed cheerful. You could see from his cheerful personality, and that made me have a feelings for him.” She said, then Orm making a jealous face.
He said in a cold tone, “if you really love him why haven't you slept with him yet?"
Y/N laughed softly, "Because I wasn’t love him. I mean, I know I’m bad, but when I was dating him, deep inside my heart, I wanted to wait for you.”
“Is that true?” Orm said with those puppy eyes.
“It is,” Y/N smiled, she held Orm’s face and touch it gently, then said, “You have to believe me this time. We need Barry for this. After all, this is for our house, Orm. It's close to the beach... you can imagine, you have a house in Atlantis, and also on the surface…”
Orm looked at Y/N for a moment then said, “Okay, but don't get too close to him. We're going to get married.”
Y/N pressed the button on the hotel telephone then said, “Do you really want to get married or is it because you’re jealous?”
“I really want to marry you. I realized when I saw that silly guy’s face really want you, and that’s not because I’m jealous. I should have realized that other men out there would really want to have you completely if they saw you. I mean, you’re just so perfect.” Orm said with a smile in his face, and then he got up from his bed.
“Wait a minute.” Y/N said briefly to Orm, and then she said on the phone, “Barry, I'm sorry about Orm's behavior earlier... Orm and I have thought about your help and we are happy to go there, and we want you to take us there if you still can.”
Barry on the phone said, “Oh yes of course, with pleasure. After lunch, maybe I can—“
Orm knelt on one knee in front of Y/N who was sitting on the bed with the phone receiver, “Orm? what are you doing?” Y/N whispered
“Y/N will you marry me?” Orm’s words apparently reached Barry who was on the telephone line.
“Is he proposing to you? Sorry, I don’t want to interrupt." Barry said in a low tone, immediately hanging up the phone.
“Orm? What is this? You can propose to me later after I hang up the phone!”
“Is this wrong? Arthur said that the surface dweller’s way of proposing to their lover was this way?” Orm asked, confused and disappointed.
“That's not what I meant. You did it perfectly. It’s just that you sounded very rushed and you did it when I was calling Barry!” She said in a slightly annoyed tone, "marriage is not a joke.”
“I certainly know that marriage is not a joke. I am an Atlantean, I am a member of the kingdom, I know how important it is in moments like this, and I’m sure with you, I am not just be playing around. I just—“
“Jealous? Yeah I know that,” she said, “you know, marrying you is something I’ve been waiting for, Orm. I know that when the time comes I will marry you, but if you marry me in this way, I can’t accept it yet." She said and then quickly get out of bed and left Orm who was still kneeling on one leg while holding his mother's sparkling engagement ring.
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agendabymooner · 2 years ago
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baby said ! daniel r. x ofc (måneskin member! ofc)
"i'm not afraid of you being vulgar, but why are you so vicious?"
summary: lester and danny ARE NOT in love. OR go dumpster diving in the comments section of daniel and lester as they continue to love each other, disrespectfully <3 (and is danny serious about his proposal?)
content warnings: it's literally just danny and lester being messy in twitter and instagram (bit of thirst tweets incoming), brief use of explicit language, some shitty proposals because i don't know how relationship transitions work lol, simp!lester and simp!danny. maneskin members appearance in the comment section.
note: demon time but it's daniel ricciardo this time. just so you guys know, this series is not done in order. i'm just posting certain headcanons that i can come up with as my brain keeps functioning. by the way, have you checked out my toto wolff fic yet?
let me know what you think!!! enjoy xx
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tagged loressandro
liked by ykaaar, landonorris, carlossainzjr
view 2132 more comments
ethaneskin wow loressandro hows it like being the hottest out of the two of you liked by loressandro and danielricciardo
danielricciardo please suck up to her on her page thx
loressandro i was going to say my boyfriend is actually hotter than me but nvm i guess 🙃
redbullracing she's a beauty she's grace 😇
scuderiaferrari she still wouldn't go to your paddock even if you say that to her face 😜
maxverstappen1 when she doesn't look like a hellhound for once 🤯
user1 and ur the one to talk 💀
loressandro i love u liked by danielricciardo
danielricciardo you should marry me
loressandro you should ask me in person
danielricciardo okay i'll see you tomorrow :)
loressandro okay safe trip :)
user1 mA'AM?
user2 y'all I-
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tagged danielriccardio
liked by scottyjames, maneskinofficial, tillywolff
view 2231 more comments
tillywolff omgggggg!!! congratulations mia cara!!!
landonorris let the ipad kid be the ring bearer 👉👈
danielricciardo try harder then maybe we'll allow it
charles_leclerc welcome to the fifth circle lester !! liked by loressandro
loressandro thanks! dante didn't disappoint at all!
user1 WE DIDN'T THINK HE'D ACTUALLY DO IT WTF
user2 danielricciardo bestie when you say shit like that online you wouldn't actually do it.
danielricciardo i like to fuck around and find out.
user3 lester allie? nah, rizz-ter rizziardo. liked by loressandro and danielriccardo
user4 rizzter arizzandro-rizzardo liked by loressandro
loressandro this one takes the cake.
ethaneskin wooohooooo i hope that 2015 ticket was worth it liked by danielricciardo
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tagged loressandro
liked by maxverstappen1, ykaaar, pierregasly
redbullracing we'll hold the reception in our paddock
scuderiaferrari you're not the first to try and snatch our italian paddock princess from us
maxverstappen1 congratulations!
pierregasly getting my suit ready what's the dress code?
loressandro nobody said you were invited tho???
pierregasly your gift from me will be nothing but disappointment.
carlossainzjr so will you finally admit that you searched for her twitter username after seeing her at their eurovision performance?
loressandro what.
user1 daniel ricciardo you are F U C K E D big time lad
danielricciardo hahaha that was meant for our 20th anniversary tbfh sorry babe.
user2 that's a nice ring! is that the one that you stole from my grandma? that's in her will i think.
danielricciardo i promise i'll find a way to feed your family
user3 there was some grave robery thing going on in our city. weren't you here yesterday?
danielricciardo i dunno what you're on about...
landonorris i lost the twitch money in my bank account. it says there was a purchase from a jewelry store. didn't you ask if you could borrow my card the other day?
danielricciardo i already paid you back?
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bonus !!!
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tagged danielricciardo
liked by ykaaar, thomasraggi_, georgerussell63
pierregasly you are so thirsty.
loressandro AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT MF
user1 i want her energy.
user2 i want the vibe that she gives.
user3 i want someone who'll hype me like her
user4 i want her.
danielricciardo oof same!
danielricciardo man i can't wait to smother my face with a neck pillow. liked by loressandro
user5 JAIL!!! PUT THIS MAN TO JAIL!!!
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that-spider-fan-over-there · 5 months ago
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BNHA 428: This chapter made me annoyed and yet it was still somewhat better than I expected?
Himichako. I like it, it's a good ship- not one I'm crazy about, but the vision is compelling. I mean, the loved girl on hard times who admires honesty but represses her feelings + hunger motifs, and the formerly wealthy and rejected girl who's honest to herself but masks her sadness from others + drinking motifs? Being so similar at their core from selfishness, bleeding love, admiration and imitation? Yeah, why not, sign me up, it looks fun.
(plus Ochako needed a subplot that would shy away from Izuku because oh boi her writing is messy-)
Then the ending annoucement happened and I immediately went "oh no" when I remembered that tidbit. But. Yesterday, I remembered this page from 424, which in hindsight makes sense:
Shoto moving forward and choosing to not dwell on his past anymore, because he wants to know the man he wants to become alongside his family of choice.
Spinner feeling so much grief for Tomura inside his room, his extra Quirks add up to it. Further gut points as it was all because of AFO, but the wrong person is getting the blame.
Ochako looking lost and dissatisfied, not really saying anything about Himiko's status; then her hidden injury which left a scar that'll never go away, nothing can change that.
And then, well, a sky with a chance to fight for a "bright future". Which is the most ambiguous you can get for anything, really, sequel or not.
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(sidenote: is it me or the panel where she's touching her stab wound looks like a tangent line?)
Okay so, I went into the chapter, with Pikahlua's translations. It was A Chapter alright-
If it wasn't the antepenultimate chapter, the "filler" would've been welcomed. But I guess it means we should focus on the smaller details, I guess? Like that 1st year saying Izuku filled him with courage and Izuku immediately thinking of Spinner's pain? Yeah he hates himself and that people call him a hero, when he considers himself a murderer, and will never forgive himself for failing Tenko, therapy for him and everyone in Class 2-A please- yeah it was a fun detail. Also the throb of hiding your pain of "defeating" someone you wanted to save but in the end everything is miserable but everyone else is happy and you don't wanna be a bother. Fun.
Also I wasn't the one to point the out, but looking at the uniform (U.A. uniform blazer for boys + the tie with a dot for girls), the student who's a Izuku fan is probably trans/gnc, which I appreciate a lot :D (Damn Izuku attracts so many queer people I wonder if that's a sign- /hj)
Also, I guess Class A stating "[Bakugou], Midoriya and Todoroki were at the heart of it all" then focusing on Ochako is good foreshadowing on how her own battle wasn't fully recorded? It's like saying in the end her fight didn't matter, but the other ones went "well", so she's trying (and slowly failing) to keep her sadness at bay because, well, everyone's happy, so who cares? Another "throb".
I thought since the Todoroki family issues are out in the open, didn't they record the whole thing? Then I re-read it, they only saw the family stopping Touya from exploding. So they didn't see Shoto trying to talk to Touya, which means none of the LoV were humanized. Fuck's sake.
After that, I get focusing on the first years and civilians wanting to help and all, but it feels like a repeat of everything seconds before Jakku, so I assume it's a way for them to pretend things are normal? But not-quite-quoting Katsuki (<- which I will point out for my sake is very much alive and well and- oh boi LFtR will kill me) and Edgeshot here because it made me smile:
"Will you...go back to the way you were?" "I plan to attain something greater than what I was originally!"
So, yeah I suppose he'll be fine eventually. (Best J. really loving Edgeshot even as a worm, honestly, goals)
Again with Izuku remembering saying "[He'll] bring it all back" and apologizing for "not keeping his promise" and others telling him to not blame himself and they can reconstruct as many times as it takes. Again, gave me a little smile, but not for long-
Finally, Ochako pretending things are fine. Hello there, Sports Festival/Provisional License!Ochako I missed you- /hj (I miss the dorms era in general, actually.)
So... *sigh* Full disclosure: I wasn't looking forward to Himichako as we were getting 5/10 pages for the "conclusions" in the previous two, I thought Ochako would be off about Himiko being depressed about the League. But since she's MIA, red flags are now red herrings, and it's better than the dead outcome. If Ochako got another person dying in her arms that'd just break her character.
A blood transfusion takes hours, she couldn't been doing that for more than 20min, if it was gonna kill anyone it'd be Ochako. Either Himiko ran away or got arrested, and Ochako feels guilty because she doesn't know if she's dead or not. Not great, but until I see a corpse she ain't dead. Besides: Touya, Shoto, Edgeshot, Katsuki, Toshinori, Ochako herself, all physically hurt unlike her, and yet they live.
And then we have Izuku showing up. I'm upset he used OFA embers for this, but eh, it's Izuku, do I expect anything else?
Rolling with the assumption Himiko died (like our POV characters), Izuku would need to face his own failure in Ochako- Failed to save two people like she failed Himiko, but it'd be so. Empty. Ochako was true to herself, while Izuku gave nothing but "I want to save that crying kid" while fighting Tenko. The most they can do is bond with "failing" and "this isn't what we fought for". This is not really a moment where he can be a shoulder to cry on, it'd come across as hypocritical /neg.
The only way it could make sense it without being shallow on Mr. Control = Repress Your Heart's part (as he didn't open up to the two people who died in "his watch") is Ochako telling how Himiko loved yet seeing him repressing this part of his is idiotic? She likes people who are true to themselves, which Izuku hasn't been for ages, leading to him realizing something. I thought it'd be through a DvsK3 but. I'll take it, two chapters left, I just want his thoughts (and for them to talk but that can happen in the last one).
They only recorded Shoto stopping Touya from being a suicidal bomb, Ochako floating a bunch of Twice!Himiko clones and Izuku entering a coccon, popping out armless, getting them back, punching Tenko to death. The "I want to save [them]" wasn't registered, it makes sense they're (well, Izuku and Ochako mostly) weirded out about this, dissatisfied like most readers are (sidenote: why when it comes to the trio either Ochako or Shoto get sidelined? So much could tie their stories together and yet-)
It's still a tough pill. I'm not a villain stan, just wondering if those fights were for nothing- the humanity of Tenko and Himiko? Can't be proved for anyone else, since they weren't recorded.
And I don't know if anyone saw the same thing, but those "city lights" look like the bubbles from Ochako's awakening, maybe we'll get a Blackwhip or Entrance Exam callback? Maybe it's what the tagline meant by "hidden feelings", since she unlocked it to reach Himiko and doesn't think anyone would understand why. I hope it's just a nice visual though.
If Himiko is truly dead though... You know, I headcannoned the characters were telling the story through confessionals/recordings to register it to the world so they'd learn from that, but I guess the interviews Aizawa was talking about seemed more likely, which. Well it's something, but I thought it'd be everyone instead of just Class A. Idk. The idea the LoV didn't change anything, or that they did change things but don't get to see it, is bitter.
So uh. Yeah, those are my thoughts. I'm not sure how to feel about it, on one hand I want Izuku to finally open up but on the other, it feels like it'll be at Himiko and Ochako's expense by involving him in something that's theirs now. And there's a chance we'll get the "nothing is fine" from Ochako- god I'm fearing the discourse next week already :DDDD
... Man, and this is a bad timing to be in the fandom, considering the LFtR episode airs this Saturday (which will be yesterday by the time this post goes up and I'll be crying about that instead-), so uh. Yeah, this fandom will be emotionally devastated for two reasons XD
Okay, so I'll try ending this on a more optimistic note: I think Himiko is alive, and Ochako just doesn't know it, which is why we're getting 0 confirmation and a breakdown. Izuku's confrontation with her can make or break this plot, but as long as 1) we acknowledge the emotional, different stakes between the Himichako fight and Tenko vs. Izuku one and 2) it doesn't end in a confession (and let's be real, it won't), then we're probably good (sadly, if you disregard the LoV status). I still think it's an ass pull for the camera battery to go out though.
But no matter how this goes: C'mon, two chapters left now, this one was wasted on the first years, smh, let this sequel hopium be a reality I wanna know who's the 425 guy, not the poor first year who's gonna replace Shindo Yo in fanfics- /hj
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smytherines · 6 months ago
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Tumblr won't let me post this from my drafts, but @uhhhitsme this is me responding to what you wrote yesterday!
I think that's right though. This is a long distance relationship. They live an ocean apart, they only get to see each other when their countries deem it necessary to work together. They have to have their entire relationship in secret because it is illegal. And probably treason because they work for two different countries. It is super turbo illegal.
I mean, long distance couples who don't have all those additional issues, who can call or video chat or whatever every day if they choose to, who have support networks there for them to lean on, (who aren't gay spies in the 1950s), most of the time they still don't make it because the distance is just too much to overcome. But Curt and Owen made it work. Even if it was messy and they were both assholes and nothing about it was rational. They made it work.
We don't know how long Curt and Owen were together before the fall, but I'm guessing it was at least a couple of years? They work incredibly well together, they're bantering and giving these goofy lovesick grins to each other (they make me sick)
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Even when they bicker it feels like an old married couple. And it has to be that way for the show to make sense. We get less than ten minutes to establish their relationship, and this little section of the show is what gives the staircase scene true dramatic weight. Because there is so much fucking chemistry in that first ten minutes, such a sense of intimacy between them, that when Curt says "the feelings we had" the audience is already there. We don't need to be convinced (especially queer viewers who clocked this shit right away) because yeah of course these two were together.
They were able to keep this thing going off of maybe a couple of days together every few months? Days where they were mostly risking their lives and killing people and getting shot/stabbed/tortured and then hooking up in a hotel room or safe house or whatever.
One thing I think about a lot is if they were able to be that close to each other, function that well together, be so fucking familiar and warm with each other with just those little scraps of time together, I can't even imagine what they'd be like if they actually had time to just be together. Time to learn to be in a relationship. There's a line from Black Box that goes like "a real relationship- the kind of thing with a permanent address," and that's what Curt and Owen never got to have, and its the kind of thing you have to learn, you have to practice.
That's tough though, because I also think Curt's inherent restlessness would make it very difficult for him to settle down into a comfortable quiet life away from everything. I think he's the kind of guy who theoretically wants the comfort and happiness of a happy little domestic situation, wants to be loved and wanted, but it would be torture for him to have to stay in the same place for very long. At least as a younger man. He wants the idea of it. He wants it emotionally, but couldn't handle it practically. What he truly wants is for he and Owen to eternally live out their glory days together as the world's greatest spies- constant adrenaline and pressure and excitement.
This is pure headcanon, but I picture Owen as the kind of guy who has never wanted any of that. Home is where he keeps his shit in between missions. He doesn't want a happy little domestic life, he wants to do the job he's good at until he dies. Until he meets Curt. Then he starts wanting all sorts of things he knows he can never have. He wants to keep Curt safe, wants to know that they'll be able to see each other whenever they want, they'd have control of their own lives instead of being controlled by their agencies. He wants to stop having to work so hard and think so much and constantly constantly plan for the worst.
So it's difficult to say, but in my heart I do think that if they had more time, both in the pre-fall relationship and, y'know, Curt not putting a bullet in Owen's head, I think they could have figured it out. I think if they were able to sustain the feelings they had for so long on so little actual contact, then it would be difficult and painful and even more messy than before, but eventually they could move on to something better.
I think they loved each other enough to try, but after everything they had each been through in their four years apart, after the ways they had hurt each other and broken each other's trust, they just... couldn't see that in the moment. Which is pretty tragic to me.
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dailyharuka · 3 months ago
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DAY 195
Yesterday was day 194,,, Eh, it's already been ambiguous about whether we're actually on schedule since day 100 we're fine
Anyways Haruka unit outfit comparisons mayhaps?? gonna add the "keep reading" thing bc this is gonna be long methinks
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The classic. The OG. They could never do her wrong and this is proof
I love how her unit outfit kind of matches Minori's! As seen in the two cards (Minori below), their blazers(?) are open, meanwhile Airi and Shizuku have theirs closed.
Alongside that, the hems of the first and second ruffles on their skirts are both the same color. Shizuai have their second hems slightly off-colored.
They also have their hair accessories on the same side! They both wear theirs on their right side, meanwhile Airi has two hairties and Shizuku has her accessory on her left side.
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Take a look at the points I'd mentioned before, they're so similar!! Minoharu so real/j
Now, there's some similarities between Haruka and Shizuku (Shizuku below as well), I think. They both wear golden bracelets on their left wrists. Haruka's is much looser and has two bands while Shizuku has just one thick band that's more secure on her wrist, yeah, but I think it counts.
They also both have ruffles attached to their shirts on either shoulder. Haruka has it on her left shoulder while Shizuku has it on her right.
Their hair accessories are also similar, being that they both have ribbons in the accessory. Granted, both designs are different, but the ribbons are the same colors, if inverted.
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I spent a good bit of time thinking on this tbh,, But we still have more!!
Airi and Haruka don't seem to have too many similarities between each other. However I do think that Haruka's shirt being the only untucked one and Airi's being a crop top could be considered a similarity, seeing how they're both not tucked into the skirt in some fashion.
I literally cannot identify anything else 😭 This is so embarrassing tbh, it's probably in their shoes. Which i can't see bc I'm using the CARDSSS AUUUGH
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Anyways we are not done here. Nononono. We're doing their 3rd anni unit outfits too.
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She still slayed this so hard. Look me dead in the eye and tell me she didn't eat and leave no crumbs. You can't. Also I love how their cuffs look and tie into their characters. I can't go on that tangent rn simply bc I can't really remember everyone's nuances but it's there. Their lapels also do the same, I love how Haruka's lapel is the only straight one.
Now her similarities with Minori are more numerous here, if only because the group suddenly all got outfits that stated their "together"ness even louder. However the first thing I noticed was that their hair accessories are both wings. Of course, they're still on the same side as they were before, but they're both wings and I think that's cute.
I'm gonna be so real rn I cannot tell what's a similarity between just them and a similarity between all of MMJ so that's it for Minori 😭
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She's so baby 🧡
Shizuku and Haruka's shirts both don't have a dark hem, as Airi's dark hem is on her skirt and thus doesn't count.
However Airi's skirt has three layers to it, meanwhile the others only have two layers since their shirts also technically count as a layer.
Once again that's basically all I can find ☠️
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Literally most swan type character ever
Now idk if this is a similarity that counts necessarily but Haruka's new 2 star is the same type as Airi's old 2 star. So that's cute
However their actual similarity is that there is a distinct section in their skirts where the plaid is only in the front, whether it's being covered up by another part of the skirt or that it's all just white there.
And I guess they're both facing the same way?? Idk the similarities used to mean more in the original outfits now they just look the same and the differences are more interesting now ☠️☠️☠️
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We love you Airi!! We love pink girls who get all dirty and messy and mean!!!
Take a shot every time I said "similarity/similar" and drink an equal amount of water every time I said "difference/different". Hopefully you won't die/j
-💫
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