#... maybe not whenever whenever like crossing the street or something

[izzy-b-hands]

Insomnia hasn't had me do a full night of absolutely no sleep in a bit

kinda wouldn't have minded if last night hadn't been one tho

[flowafairy]

holding you , holding me ✿ bllk men

﹒postscript : when they realise they’re in love, with you. ɞ‎ feat. nagi, reo, rin, karasu, shidou, sae, kaiser ɞ‎ cw fem reader in a few, banter, suggestive

nagi realises he’s in love with you when the late night calls start getting more frequent. he had started craving your presence more and more. hell, he felt lovesick.

“what a hassle..” nagi’s head flops against the bed sheets, his gaze constantly shifting to his phone to see if you’ve replied to his text yet.

the nagi waiting for your texts? not to mention texting first, call a man whipped!

”i only take a few second’s to reply..” nagi picks up his phone again, grumbling when his notifications are empty. if he replies as soon as you do, why do you have to spend the next 3 decades replying back?

nagi’s usually the one who replies and then logs on minecraft for hours. him replying in mere seconds at your texts—you’re definitely special. very special in his eyes, oh. there’s something else that caught his eyes.

nagi’s phone lit up with a notification, from you.

sure! it’s a date then :))

cool, :x. 7PM?

reo realies he’s in love with you when his pockets really start to hurt.

i mean really. he’s been spoiling you relentlessly for the past few weeks. even if you insist you don’t need a new shirt, by tomorrow your closet is filled with them.

you just can’t seem to escape his mind. whenever he walks by the street and spots a store, his first thought goes to you, that maybe you’d like this. that maybe he should buy it for you—of course he will.

“you know.” reo smiles at you as you try on the new necklace he bought for you. “i booked a dinner for us, just us.”

“oh?” you hum, still struggling with the hook. “can you help me?”

“sure.” he’s more than happy to help you hook your necklace—a chance to put his hands on you? he’ll take it gladly.

“so about that dinner..” his hands swiftly clasp your necklace around your neck. “are you coming or what?”

“i don’t know… the mikage reo taking me out?” you grin up at him. “im a little shy.”

you and reo laugh soundly, well, looks like you’ve got a date tonight.

rin couldn’t believe it.

he’s in love with you, playback—he’s in love.

it started off with smaller details, like how he would leave his soccer practice or gym earlier than usual to see you. and also how his messages app slowly started to become his most used app.

soccer wasn’t everything anymore, he had you too now.

“don’t make me waste money on this lukewarm shit ever again.” rin gruffed as he watched you sip the drink he had bought you from the convenience store earlier.

normally, he’d never waste his money on some useless milkshake from the store, that’s not even good for your body. but seeing you contentedly gulp at the fresh taste of your drink, he can’t seem to hold himself back.

“give me some.”

the words slip out of his tongue before he can control them.

“you wanna try?” well he’s definitely colored you surprised now. “come here then, rinnie.”

rin could feel his face slightly heat up at the nickname. he scoots closer to you, snatching the drink from your hand with no warning.

“hey!” you glare at him as he drinks the entire thing in one gulp, definitely not what you anticipated. “that was mine, you were supposed to take a sip.” you huff at him.

rin only rolls his eyes. “i paid for it. ill buy you a new one later.” your eyes sparkle at his words.

“fine, you win.” you smile. “im going to get going before you become grumpy and tell me to shoo.” you give him a teasing wink, about to get up from his couch when suddenly he grabs your arm.

“wait.” he grits his teeth, biting back words. “don’t go.”

“rin?”

“just, don’t.”

“you missed me, huh?” karasu smirks. he had his hair down, for once not put up with an insane amount of gel—karasu in all his glory.

“i didn’t.” you huff at him. “you look even uglier with your hair down.”

“yer’ comparing my beauty to your birds nest?” karasu crosses his arms, leaning against the door.

“oh, we can see them split ends girl.” you roll your eyes.

karasu has always loved bantering with you, but nowadays, it seems as if his heart has been telling him thats not the only reason his heartbeat speeds up whenever he’s around you.

he loves bantering with you, he loves you.

there’s a prolonged silence, karasu’s anticipating if he should say what he’s about to say. he usually isn’t this nervous—you’re the exception to that.

“you think you wanna go out sometime, yeah?” it’s the way his sharp eyes soften that makes your heart start doing flips.

“yeah, i do.”

there’s a moment of comfortable silence, your brain ingraving the memory in the back of your head. which of course, quickly gets ruined by his cocky smirk. he wasn’t the best at dealing with these moments

“even y’can’t resist my charm.” karasu sticks his tongue out at you. “ill pick you up at 9.”

“you… get back here!”

shidou could feel a wide grin on his face as he read your message—“sure, i’d love to go sky diving with you!”

anybody would of said that is a crazy idea for a first date, but you? you can say you definitely match his freak.

his heart explodes into a burst of enthusiasm whenever you’re around him. he can feel a rush of serotonin whenever you accidentally brush your hands against his.

oh he was so in love. he is definitely wifing you up when you deploy the parachute- how could he not when he feels like he’s going to explode with all these bottled up feelings.

he in fact had a very disappointed pout on his face when you said it was far too soon for marriage, so what if you’re not dating yet? you can start now!

your betrayal will not be forgotten. but hey, he can try again next year.

sae realised he’s in love with you when you started becoming an avid figure in his daily routine.

it was like muscle memory for him to wake up and check for your good morning text, never failing to emit an amused scoff from his lips.

of course, he acknowledged the fact that he was in love with you. but would he dare entertain the thought and risk the beloved friendship you already have? never.

“nobody’s looking.”

this was dangerous. he has you trapped against the wall in the locker room, his lips tantalisingly close to yours. he wasn’t suppose to be doing this—but how could he resist when you came to see him at practice?

“sae…we can’t here.” you try to be rational, but your breathing is just as heavy as his.

“just shut-“

footsteps. someone was coming. sae pushes you away behind a locker so nobody see’s you, leaning against the wall nonchalantly.

maybe next time he’ll get you.

kaiser took some time to notice his feelings, but even he started getting self conscious of all the excuses he started making to touch you, and the flirting was starting to cross a few boundaries as well.

maybe he’s just lust-driven, that’s all he thought for a while. he chose to distance himself, and you didn’t miss the change in his behaviour.

he thought distancing himself would help ease his feelings.. not make them worse.

he can feel his heart throbbing, mind full with only thoughts of you—is it love or is it lust?

he doesn’t know, he’s never felt like this before. what even is love? thats stupid.

“hey.” he smirks, grasping your hand, a habit of his by now. “what are you up to, schatz?” the light-hearted pet name rolls off his tongue smoothly.

“michael.” you look at him, eyes widening a little. “i haven’t seen you in forever.” his expression slightly wavers at that.

“oh i’ve been.. busy.” he lies, smiling. the truth is, he hasn’t been busy at all. he’s been avoiding you, you and your precious smile.

“its okay.” you pat his shoulder. “i just missed you.”

“i missed you too.” he blurts out unknowingly, slightly flinching at what he said. “i’ve been avoiding you.” he confesses.

your eyebrow’s slightly raise at that. “…why?”

“because.. i don’t know.”

your hands hesitantly reach out. you knew how he was about physical touch, but maybe just this once he needs it.

he bents down a little, his face hitting your shoulder as he reciprocated your hug.

“Ich liebe dich.”

apologies, some parts aren’t as long as the others. i got lazy ( and have favorites… ✌️) only 7 chrc bc i had no ideas for isagi

[kashverse]

Can we get some lore on Toji and mamaguro?

megumi, sitting cross-legged on the floor, tilts his head and asks the question of the century.

“how did you and papa meet?”

you pause. toji’s eyes immediately gleam with something absolutely devious. and you know—before he even opens his mouth—that he’s about to ruin it. “ahhh, great question, kid,” toji sighs, cracking his knuckles like he’s about to tell the most important story of all time. “see, once upon a time, i was young. reckless. sexy. a lone wolf prowlin’ the streets—”

your head snaps toward him. “what.”

“—and then,” he continues, ignoring you completely, “i met this woman.” he jerks his chin toward you. “absolutely feral. scary as hell. deadly, too. had this whole mysterious cat burglar thing goin’ on.” megumi’s eyes widen. 

“like catwoman?”

“exactly!” toji claps his hands. “but hotter.”

you squint. “i took one look at her,” toji sighs dramatically, clutching his chest like a man struck by fate. “and bam!” he slaps the floor for emphasis, making megumi jump. “love at first sight.”

“…you were on the floor at first sight,” you correct. “because i threw you there.” toji grins. “same thing.”

megumi’s eyebrows furrow. “why’d you throw him?”

toji hums, tapping his chin like he’s recalling some grand tale. “well, kid, your mama wasn’t always the sweet, loving lady she is now. back in the day, she was a real menace. sharp, deadly, no-nonsense.” you roll your eyes. “and you were an idiot.”

“a charming idiot,” toji corrects, leaning back with a smirk. “but hey, you wanna hear the real story?” he gestures for megumi to sit closer, voice dropping conspiratorially. “lemme tell you how it really happened…”

 /\___/\ ꒰ ˶• ༝ - ˶꒱ ./づᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊°.. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊

toji should’ve known better than to touch you. but in his defense, he had really just wanted your attention. it wasn’t every day you saw someone move like that—fast, sharp, deadly, with the kind of ease that made seasoned killers look sloppy. you had just wiped the floor with half a dozen guys and hadn’t even broken a sweat. so, naturally, toji thought it would be real cute to tap your shoulder. 

“yo, sweetheart, what’s your—”

before he could finish, his back slammed against the pavement, skull bouncing off the concrete. you stood over him, eyes sharp, unimpressed, like you were deciding whether or not to finish the job. “touch me again and i’ll break your arm,” you said. toji, lying there with a grin stretching across his face, thought, damn.

toji was relentless. “shiuuuu,” he whined, draping himself over the back of shiu’s chair like a dead weight. “c’mon, man, just once. put me on a job with her. please.” shiu didn’t even look up from his paperwork. “for the last time, no.”

“why not?” toji huffed. “we’d be great together.” shiu sighed. “no, you’d be a menace. i don’t have time to deal with you getting distracted and showing off for your crush mid-mission.” toji crossed his arms. “what? i would not.”

shiu finally glanced at him. toji looked away. shiu raised an eyebrow. toji grumbled, “okay, maybe a little.”

shiu shook his head. “go away.” but did that stop toji? absolutely not.

the man campaigned like his life depended on it. followed you around whenever he saw you, made a damn fool of himself trying to impress you—sparring without a shirt (useless, you didn’t even blink), dramatically taking down targets in the most unnecessarily flashy ways, dropping the occasional sweetheart or princess just to see if he could get a rise out of you. nothing. you remained cool, detached, frustratingly uninterested. 

until one day, when you finally looked at him and said, “if i agree to work with you, will you shut up?” toji lit up like a kid on christmas. “yes.”

“fine.”

“wait, really?”

you shrugged. “shiu thinks you’re useful enough to keep around, so i’ll give it a shot. but if you slow me down, i’m leaving you behind.” toji grinned. “babe, you’re gonna love working with me.”

(you did not love working with him. at first.)

the first mission together was a disaster. not because it went wrong—oh no, everything was executed perfectly. but because toji spent the entire time trying to get you to laugh. he was muttering jokes over the comms, making faces when no one was looking, even tossing out ridiculous one-liners mid-fight just to see if he could crack your composure. nothing. you were focused, professional, as if you didn’t even register his antics. 

until the job was done, and he caught you, just for a split second, hiding the smallest smirk. toji nearly died on the spot. "i knew you had a sense of humor," he said, triumphant. you rolled your eyes. “if you mess around too much, you'll get yourself killed.” toji grinned. "nah. gotta stick around. haven’t won you over yet.”

(he did. eventually.)

 /\___/\ ꒰ ˶• ༝ - ˶꒱ ./づᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊°.. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊

megumi listened like it’s a live-action soap opera. “and guess what?” toji smirks, elbowing your side. “it worked.”

“against my better judgment,” you mutter, crossing your arms. megumi tilts his head. “but you like him now.”

toji grins, looking smug. “yeah, mama. you like me.”

you stare at him. then, with a perfectly measured swing, you whack the back of his head so fast that he blinks in shock. then, suddenly, something in his face changes. the slow grin. the slight daze in his eyes. “damn,” he breathes. “that’s exactly why i fell for you in the first place.”

megumi makes a disgusted face. but toji, still caught in whatever lovestruck spiral he’s in, just stretches and leans back against the couch, arms crossed behind his head. “it’s true, y’know,” he hums, reminiscing. “with other people, i was a cold bastard. with your mama? blubbering puppy.”

megumi looks at you for confirmation. you sigh. “unfortunately, yes.”

megumi squints. “prove it.”

toji’s grin widens.

somewhere, in an alternate flashback—

“alright, asshole, you got three seconds to start beggin’ before i blow your damn face off,” toji growls, pointing his gun at some poor soul tied to a chair. the guy trembles. “p-please, i—”

“not you, dumbass, him,” toji grunts, jerking his thumb toward his colleague—shiu, who is standing off to the side, looking like he has an unfortunate headache. “toji,” shiu sighs. “just finish the job.”

“nah, nah, lemme enjoy this.” toji cracks his neck. “c’mon, big guy, scream f'me.”

footsteps. and before the victim can even register what’s happening, toji suddenly changes. in half a second, he goes from “demonic assassin ready to pull the trigger” to—

“BABE!!”

his voice shoots up an octave. the victim stares. and then he watches—in real time—as the fearsome assassin fushiguro toji throws his loaded gun on the table and immediately goes soft. “babe,” toji beams, turning toward the door. “didja eat yet? you sleep okay? what’s up? what’s goin’ on?”

the victim blinks. you walk into the room like nothing is out of the ordinary, sipping a bottle of water, giving the scene a quick glance before meeting toji’s gaze.

“you forgot your lunch.”

you hold up a neatly wrapped bento box. toji gasps. "awww, babe, you love me.”

the victim gapes as toji practically skips over to you, completely forgetting he was in the middle of a goddamn interrogation. the target, still bound to his chair, is on the verge of tears. “WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING—”

back to the present—

megumi, jaw slightly dropped, slowly turns to his father.

“…you are pathetic.”

toji grins. “nah. i’m in love.” you sigh, rubbing your temples. “you were in love. now you’re just embarrassing.”

megumi nods in agreement. toji scoffs. “y’know, if this is the kinda disrespect i get in my own house—”

“—you can leave,” you and megumi say in unison. toji groans, flopping dramatically onto the floor. but secretly? he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[carnalcrows]

SWEET AS SIN - THE SALESMAN

pairing: the salesman x ftm reader

synopsis: A humble baker’s life takes a dark turn when a mysterious customer becomes dangerously obsessed—until one night, he wakes up bound and trapped.

content warnings: 18+, dubcon (borderline noncon), reader has a vagina, gun play, squirting, drugging, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat.

word count: 1.0k

The first time you saw him, he was just another customer.

It had been a slow morning at your bakery, the scent of freshly baked bread filling the air as you wiped down the counter. The bell above the door jingled, and in walked a man in a crisp suit, his slicked-back hair perfectly in place. There was something oddly magnetic about him—the way he carried himself, the confidence in his steps, the way his piercing eyes scanned the shelves like he was hunting for something more than just bread.

“Morning,” you greeted, forcing yourself to break the silence. “What can I get you?”

He smiled—a sharp, calculated thing. “Something simple. A loaf, maybe.”

You nodded, wrapping up a warm loaf and placing it on the counter. He paid in cash, his fingers brushing against yours as he handed over the bills. His touch was cold, yet his grip lingered a second too long.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” he mused, glancing around as if memorizing every inch of the shop.

You shrugged. “Pays the bills.”

His eyes flickered back to you, something unreadable in them. “I’ll be seeing you again.”

It wasn’t a question.

And true to his word, he kept coming back.

Days turned into weeks, and the suited man became a regular.

He never gave his name. Never asked for anything specific. But each visit followed the same routine: a loaf of bread, a polite exchange, a lingering look that made your skin prickle with unease. He never overstayed his welcome, but his presence stayed with you long after he left.

There was something off about him. Something… unsettling.

And yet, you couldn’t deny the thrill that crept up your spine whenever he walked through your door.

One night, you closed up late. The streets were empty, the moon casting long shadows over the pavement as you locked the door behind you. You barely made it a few steps before a sharp prick stung your neck.

Your vision blurred. The world tilted.

And then—darkness.

When you woke up, the scent of flour and something metallic filled your nostrils. Your head throbbed, and as you tried to move, the unmistakable bite of rope burned against your wrists.

Panic shot through you. You were tied to a chair. The dim glow of candlelight flickered around the room, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

And then you saw him.

The salesman sat across from you, legs crossed, hands folded neatly in his lap. He was watching you, like a predator savoring the moment before the kill.

“Finally awake,” he murmured, tilting his head.

Your heart pounded. “What the fuck is this?”

He sighed, standing up and pacing toward you with slow, deliberate steps. “You must know by now. I’ve been watching you for weeks, admiring you… wanting you.”

Your breath hitched. The air was thick, suffocating.

“You kidnapped me.”

He hummed. “I prefer to think of it as… securing what’s mine.”

Your pulse roared in your ears as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to tilt your chin up. His touch was almost gentle—almost.

“You belong with me,” he murmured. “You just don’t see it yet.”

Your lips parted to curse him, to fight back, but then—click.

The cold press of metal pressed against the side of your temple.

A gun.

Your entire body went rigid.

“Shh,” he whispered, his other hand sliding to your throat, his grip firm but not tight. “No need to be scared.”

Scared? You were terrified.

But there was something worse—something worse than the fear, something you hated yourself for. The way his breath ghosted over your lips. The way his fingers pressed into your skin, possessive, demanding. The way the heat between you was suffocating, intoxicating.

And then—he kissed you.

It was slow at first, teasing, testing, his lips moving against yours with a dangerous kind of patience. The gun stayed at your temple, a silent warning, a reminder that he controlled everything. You wanted to recoil, to push him away, but your traitorous body betrayed you.

The kiss grew hungrier, his grip tightening as he deepened it. His teeth scraped against your lower lip, drawing a gasp from you.

He chuckled, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. “See? You fit so perfectly against me.”

Your breath was ragged, your mind a whirlwind of fear and something worse.

He roughly tugged down your pants and boxers, leaving your lower half exposed– making you shudder.

“Hm? What’s this?” he questions while his glance moves to your puffy cunt– leaking and gleaming with the dim light of the room. This certainly wasn’t something that he had expected.

Before you could answer– you took a sharp intake of breath. He had slid the gun from the side of your temple all the way to your pelvis– resting near the clit. Your heartbeat thundered in your ear drums, the fear and tension muddling up your brain.

He dragged the gun to your cunt at a painstakingly slow pace, before pushing the tip in. You moaned, your head falling back against the chair. God you hoped the gun wasn’t loaded.

Without waiting for you to take in a breath, the man pushed the gun almost all the way up your hole, making your thighs involuntarily cave inwards. He used his other hand to push your thighs back apart, as he watched with fascination as the dark metal worked its way in and out of your sopping wet cunt.

This was so, so, wrong– but then why did it feel so good?

The hand that was holding your thighs apart made its way to your clit– rubbing circles around the overstimulated bud. You writhed in the rope’s grasp– the pleasure being way too much

Soon– you felt your orgasm (whether you wanted it to happen or not), wash over you like a raging stream. You screamed as you practically squirted your release all over the man’s hand and his gun.

The man adjusted his posture before sliding the gun out of your cunt and pressing it back to your forehead, before bringing his other hand back to your face– pulling you in for another kiss.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured, trailing his lips down your jaw. “And I take care of what’s mine.”

The gun pressed just a little harder.

And deep down, you knew—there was no escaping him.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

[cherienymphe]

Kingdom Come

Erik Killmonger x Reader

Warnings: DUB-CON (bordering Non-Con), mentions of toxic relationship, stalking, implied kidnapping

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies |

summary: You left Erik once, and he goes above and beyond to ensure that doesn't happen again.

𓇼

⠀

The sound of the ocean waves—something that took a lot of getting used to at first—were now the driving force behind your calm moods these days. Another nightmare had forced you to wake up drenched in sweat, and the only reason you’d been able to slow your breathing was because of the familiar whoosh of ocean water outside of your window.

You didn’t grow up by the water—wasn’t raised anywhere near it—and that sound quickly reminded you that you were far away from home, far away from anywhere familiar, and it filled you with relief. You now spent your days somewhere you would’ve once never considered living, and that was good because it meant no one from your former life would consider it a place for you to live either.

…and they wouldn’t come looking.

You watched the tea kettle heat up with your back pressed to the counter, arms crossed over your chest. Your satin robe stuck to your skin from the thin layer of sweat that still clung to it. Your heart had long stopped racing, but despite that, goosebumps still littered your arms, and you rubbed your hands up and down them. Despite how safe your mind assured you that you were, your body just refused to agree.

The low lighting in the kitchen was the only warm glow that filled the modest house, and you rubbed your head as you turned to get a mug. When you briefly closed your eyes, dark ones appeared in your mind, and you wondered when—after two years—you’d finally stop conjuring him up.

The face belonging to Erik Stevens was one you hadn’t seen in years, but that name was one you never not thought about. Not only had he been a part of your life for too long to just forget him, but the lasting impact he left made him impossible to ignore. You were literally hiding out in a foreign country under a different name surrounded by people you didn’t know because of that man.

There were days where you cursed yourself for ever getting involved with him—recalling your initial thoughts of him and how he looked like trouble—but Erik had a charm that was hard to resist. With a pretty face framed by locs and gold that winked at you whenever he smiled, he wasn’t the kind of man you’d ever be brave enough to bring home, and you had long reluctantly admitted the part that played in his appeal.

He was kind of dangerous…and you’d liked that.

Until it wasn’t random men on the street he was threatening…but you.

The whistle of the kettle pulled you from your thoughts, and you jumped at the sound. You ignored how your hands shook as you poured yourself a cup of tea, exhaling an uneven breath with thoughts of your ex boyfriend on the brain. You never thought that sleeping with the guy who was just way out of your league would change the trajectory of your life. You thought it’d make for a good story to tell to your friends and maybe even a niece or two one day.

You didn’t think that he’d keep coming back, knocking on your apartment door throughout all hours of the night, that plump bottom lip jutted out as you attempted to put your foot down—something something boundaries and respect and all that jazz. The brown-skinned man would slowly blink at you, silently telling you that he wasn’t hearing a word you were saying. The corner of his lips would quirk up into that haughty smirk—something only worn by a man who knew he was going to get what he wanted—and he’d push himself off of the wall, straightening to his full height.

“So you want me to leave?”

The question never sounded sincere, because it wasn’t, and Erik would look down his nose at you while you shuffled your feet, one hand still on the door as you fought with yourself over whether or not to close it in his face. It was useless though because you never not let him in.

You never not took a step back and watched him stride through your door like he owned the place and you with it. You never not watched him peel his jacket off, your own arms crossed over your chest as you committed to being angry for far longer than you actually were. It made you feel like less of a weak willed woman. That too was useless though because its not like you ever stopped him when he turned to you and pulled you closer.

It did no good pretending to be mad when the night always ended the same way.

Erik with his arms around your waist and you with your legs around his.

He was always gone in the morning, until the day he wasn’t, and you couldn’t find it in you to be upset about him sticking around. You actually kind of liked it, and that had scared you. He wasn’t supposed to be there in the mornings, and you weren’t supposed to be asking him if he wanted anything as you stood by the stove. Erik Stevens was not boyfriend material, and yet…

That’s what he became.

Even now, years later, you still weren’t quite sure how that even happened. You didn’t know how you ended up sharing an apartment and picking things up at the store for him and sinking into the warm scented bath water he’d draw for you. You didn’t know how you ended up obeying whenever he’d look at you with those dark eyes before softly demanding a kiss. You didn’t know how you’d started letting him circle his hand around your neck while he was fucking you, pulling words and promises out of you that you’d never say in any other circumstance.

It was something you still couldn’t make sense of, and you desperately needed to if you ever wanted to prevent it from happening again.

“Erik Stevens isn’t your average man off the street…”

That was what they told you when they sat you down in some room that was too bright only hours after showing up at your doorstep. All of it had been too much information to fully retain, but you’d processed the important parts. Erik was military—a SEAL to be more exact—and not just a SEAL but also the kind of man who occasionally dropped off the face of the earth to take out important people. It was a nice way of calling him an assassin, and you remembered how sick you’d felt sitting in that chair, recalling the feel of running your fingers over every raised abrasion along his skin whenever he had his hands on you.

“Is this some frat thing I just haven’t heard of?” you’d jokingly wondered one day.

Erik had simply turned to look at you, a hint of a smile on his lips and a hidden joke in his gaze.

“Nah,” he’d drawled. “They just represent something important to me. Milestones I guess you could say.”

Your determination to be open minded had you relaxing in the arms of a killer—a proud one who wore the name KIllmonger with no shame.

Even still, you hadn’t understood what any of that had to do with you. At that point, you and Erik had been broken up for months, something that hadn’t been easy for you to do. Not just because some part of you still wanted him at the end, but also because a huge part of you was terrified of him. You hadn’t realized that his anger and possessiveness were low on the list of reasons why you should be afraid of him.

“This man is dangerous…and the way you parted ways was…less than amicable to say the least…”

You still hadn’t put the pieces together.

“...and the U.S Government is unable to locate him.”

Winding up in something akin to witness protection because the U.S Government had lost one of their own best ‘assets’ had not been something you ever saw for yourself. To this day, you wondered why the one questionable guy you took a chance on turned out to be far more than just the average jealous asshole.

As you sipped your tea, you thought about the last time you were with him, the way your voice trembled as you stood up to him, telling him it was over. You rubbed your arm, recalling the tight grip he had on it, his voice cold and clipped as he asked you if you realized what you were saying.

“You wanna leave me?” he’d asked, head dipped and brows raised like he wanted to make sure you knew that was what you wanted to do.

You could see then that he’d wanted to fight you on it—probably wanted to do a whole lot more than that—but no one had been more shocked than you when he simply let you go with a soft “a’ight” before gesturing to the door. Everything you wanted to take had been removed while he was out, and you’d been surprised at how sad you weren’t to glance around at the apartment now empty of your stuff.

That was the last time you’d been face to face with Erik Stevens.

Until now.

When the cup that was once in your hands shattered against the floor, you paid no mind to the slight sting of hot tea and ceramic shards hitting your bare feet. Your attempt to turn and leave the kitchen had been thwarted, a tall and broad figure standing just before you in the entrance. The sight of the shadowy figure made your heart drop and your blood run cold. The only light from the kitchen wasn’t enough to reveal him completely, but you’d always been able to recognize him in the dark.

He enjoyed scaring you.

For the first time in your life, your mind went blank, finally understanding that phrase as your lips parted. No sound came out—from neither you or him—and you were sure that the sight of you two just standing in the dark and staring at each other would’ve been comical if you weren’t terrified out of your mind. The figure finally moved to tilt his head, his only movement as it leaned to the left just a tad, and the angle made the light glint off of his eyes in a way that made your stomach churn.

You were quick to search for the big light.

You sharply inhaled at the sight of him, confirming what you already knew. He looked the same and different all at once. He was still handsome and tall and wore that expression like you were just so silly to him. However, his hair was longer and the bands of muscle that were his arms were thicker, and he stood with an assuredness that you didn’t like, at all. The flashy gold tooth necklace resting on his collarbone caught the light, and your eyes were briefly drawn to it.

You traced it, a frown taking residence on your face as your gaze kept going. The casual clothes you were used to seeing him in were nowhere in sight, and you took note of the dark attire he was wearing and its patterns. He looked nice—regal one might say—and you swallowed, a very bad feeling festering deep in your stomach.

“What? You got nothing to say to me?”

Hearing his voice for the first time in years brought up a whole lot of emotions you’d tried and failed to bury. You were reminded of his voice in your ear as he woke you up in the mornings or even when he was whispering the filthiest of things against your skin as he kissed his way down it. But you also remembered the angry tone of it when he was interrogating you about some guy who’d waved at you or was questioning your feelings for him.

You remembered loving him and craving him…but you also remembered how terrified he made you feel.

At that, you took a step back—almost dazed—and the man before you kissed his teeth.

“You still on that bullshit, huh.”

Those words—filled with so much dismissal and arrogance—finally made you find your voice.

“What are you doing here?” you gasped, your question coming out choked. “How did…?”

When Erik finally moved, half of him was bathed in the shadows from the rest of the house, and the kitchen light hit his eye again in the way it did before. It glinted dangerously, almost like a feline if you didn’t know any better, and you took another step back. Erik followed your movements intensely, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“How…” he tested the word in his mouth, humming. “How is never as important as why.”

You weren’t amused by whatever he was playing at, and that crooked smile only grew.

“So serious,” he mocked, moving to fold his hands behind his back as he looked you up and down, and you hated the way he swiped his tongue between his lips as he did so. “You’re not glad to see me? Not even a little?”

When you said nothing, you watched him roll his eyes, shaking his head and his locs moved with the action. When his gaze met yours again, all humor had been wiped from his face. His dark eyes were intense as he stared at you, lips pressed together and chest heaving with the deep breath he took. You felt like an insolent child beneath his gaze.

“You know what I’m doing here.”

He was entirely serious, and you didn’t doubt him for a second.

“No…”

“You had to know I was never gone let you just walk away from me like that,” he continued, slowly pacing the kitchen and backing you further into a corner with every step he took.

His words brought tears to your eyes, and in this moment, you hated him. What was the point then? Why did he give you false hope that you were free from him? Was it just to fuck with you? Was it his idea of a sick joke? As if he could read your mind, he elaborated.

“I had some things to do,” he told you. “Some…business to take care of before I came back for you and …”

He shrugged like that explained everything you’d been put through because of him.

“...and now that I got my shit together…got everything I deserved, it’s only right that I come back and get you too.”

A noise of disgust left your throat before you could stop yourself, and Erik didn’t try to stop you as you hurried past him. You didn’t hear him behind you as you made your way to the door, too nervous and fearful to look over your shoulder. However, once you made it to the front door, you realized that you didn’t hear Erik after you because he wasn’t after you.

He felt no need to be…and with good reason.

The statuesque women on the other side of your door made you come up short, mouth falling open as you took them in. They were beautiful and straight-faced, heads smooth and wearing colorful attire that didn’t deviate all that much from what Erik was wearing. The long spears in their hands had you stumbling back, and so in shock, you didn’t even register that you’d stumbled right into Erik.

One of his arms snaked around you while the other gently closed the door, effectively trapping you once again.

The silence was loud, and finally, a few tears escaped.

“Earlier you started to ask how I found you…”

You felt Erik’s lips grazing your ear before moving down to brush along your neck. One hand was on your waist while the other had found a home on your arm, kneading the skin through the thin robe. He took a deep breath, inhaling your scent, and you swore that you felt him shudder against you.

The breath you let out was shaky, more tears collecting in your eyes.

“You’d be amazed at what you can do when you’re the king of Wakanda.”

Those damning words had your knees buckling, and when you attempted to throw yourself away from him, Erik’s hold tightened. One hand had a vice grip on your wrist while the other hand snaked around your neck.

“I like to tell myself that I did this because I deserve it, because I was wronged…but that ain’t all…”

When Erik leaned in to press his lips to yours, your mind was finally at war with your heart once again. You’d forgotten what it felt like to kiss him, forgotten what he tasted like, and you couldn’t stop the sharp breath you took as he moved his mouth against yours. The hand on your neck tightened just a tad, like a chain keeping you to him, and you felt him smile into the kiss.

“I like being somebody that you can’t ever leave.”

Those words whispered into your mouth made your heart sink, and your protest was lost as he kissed you again.

You shook in his hold for varying reasons, fear above all else. Erik had his hands on you again, and he had no intention of taking them off. They pulled you and pushed you where he wanted you to be, and it seemed that he decided the couch would suffice. He wasn’t bothered by your lack of consent, and somehow that didn’t surprise you.

There’d been moments in the past when you expressed discomfort or you protested or you rejected him and for the briefest of moments, something had passed through his eyes that made you think he didn’t care. A glint in his gaze that made you think he was going to do what he wanted—take what he wanted—anyway. You’d always had a nagging feeling deep in your chest that Erik was just holding back, keeping himself in check with you because it was socially acceptable and not because he actually wanted to.

…but he was a king, now—something you believed without a doubt—and that title corrupted even the best of men…let alone a man who already wasn’t shit to begin with.

When his bare chest grazed against yours, a shudder traveled down your spine, and Erik reached under you to trace that path with his fingers. One hand was still carefully at home on your neck, and the gold fangs in his mouth winked at you in the nearly invisible lighting. When you felt those abrasions underneath your fingers—every one for a kill—it suddenly hit you that you were underneath him again and for good this time.

“You don’t know how much I missed this pussy,” he murmured into your skin, a hand tightening almost painfully on your waist just as he sank into you.

The feel of his cock stretching you out had your back arching, chest pushing up against his. It hadn’t been just years without sex with Erik but years without sex altogether. Part of it was because you still had some lingering loyalty to the man between your legs, telling yourself he’d somehow know and find you—despite the fact that you weren’t his anymore—and part of it was because he’d simply ruined you for any other man. Either way, it all came back to Erik.

You couldn’t stop the strained gasps that left your lips, the slight sting and dull ache from the stretch making you dig your nails into his skin. This was not what you wanted, but you swore that Erik was stronger now than he ever had been before. The feel of him thrusting himself into you reminded you of all the hours you’d spent wrapped up in each other when things were still good between you. Hell, even when they weren’t, it wasn’t uncommon for an argument to end in you bent over the kitchen counter with Erik’s pelvis pressing against you.

He had a way of controlling a situation, steering it in whatever direction he wanted it to go.

Like now.

How was it that you go into hiding to remain safe from this man only to wind up at his mercy yet again? It was unfair, and you couldn’t stop trembling as you pushed against his chest.

“Erik…”

Your words died on your lips when he shushed you, his locs brushing against your skin as he nipped at your neck and then your shoulder and finally your chest. The light moan you let out was involuntary, and you hated that smug chuckle that escaped his lips.

“You always try to act so tough and shit…but we both know once I get my hands on you…”

Anger bubbled up within you at his words, and you couldn’t resist slapping him. Before where that might’ve pissed him off, Erik only smiled in your face. Taking your hand, he held it tight before pinning it against your stomach, and he looked down, briefly distracted by the sight of his cock disappearing into you. He slowed his thrusts down, and the change in pace almost made you roll your eyes.

“You gone love Wakanda, baby,” he said to you, lips meeting your skin again. “The most beautiful sunsets…”

He nipped at your shoulder.

“...anything you could ever want…”

Another kiss to your lips.

“...and guards to watch your every move.”

His nose touched yours as he said that, and you felt him reach down to hook his arm under your leg. You hissed, feeling him even deeper into your gut as he bent your leg back. Erik didn’t take his eyes off of you as he fucked you, hips meeting yours and the wet sound of his cock dipping into you reaching your ears.

“I came back just for you,” he darkly told you, completely ignoring your hand pushing at his stomach. “...because what kind of king would I be with no queen at my side?”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

[fightingtrim]

god actually that reminds me. with the whole tme/tma thing it's like. how am I supposed to KNOW that. I can't fucking tell what people on the street think my deal is and I have been told the peoples can't tell what my deal is either so like. yknow

[anglbunny]

ᝰ.ᐟDIRTY

You're kaiser's mechanic and nothing more. .ᐟCW: Street racer!Kaiser, Smut MDNI, mentions of voyeurism, window sex

"𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ��𝑎𝑙𝑘.𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒" - 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛' 𝑏𝑦 𝐴𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑎 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒

ᯓ★ᯓ⚡︎

You were kaiser’s mechanic, most of the time. That’s what you usually told everyone. That’s also what you told yourself, not that you believed it. 

Kaiser treated you nicely, like he did with every other mechanic, but that was until it was time for closing. He’d stop you when everyone was about to leave, and some of your friends would look at you, confused, but shrug it off. 

He’d say there was something wrong, something missing, or that you didn’t do something correctly. Just to see you bend over the hood so he could stare at your ass. You knew he was. You could feel his glare. 

You swallowed hard, about to say that everything looked fine, but he was leaning back on the car, beside you, smirking down at you, speaking before you could. 

“You look good bent down like that,” he said, grabbing your wrist and pulling you close to him. 

“Kaiser… someone could see..” you mumbled, wrapping one hand around his bicep. 

“Who?” he said, you didn’t miss the amusement in his voice, grabbing a handful of your ass through the sweats. 

You shut your mouth, cursing under your breath. Kaiser always locked the door after everyone left. Meaning no one could enter. 

The only reason you hadn’t told anyone what was going on between you and kaiser was because it was on and off. You weren’t his gf, you guys weren’t friends with benefits and he’s always fucking another girl everyday. And at the end of the day, he was DK(drift king) and you were his mechanic. Kaiser was THE person. His fame would go to shit if people found out he was hooking up with you and not one of the bombshell flag girls that always threw themselves at him. You guys were almost nothing. Almost. But some nights, when it was silent, nearly pitch black, you’d find Kaiser looking down on you, running his fingers through your hair so gently, like one would do with their lover, while you sucked his cock. 

Kaiser’s eyes were zoned out on you. Those pretty blue ones you’d always catch yourself staring at. 

“You’re always touching up my baby” he tapped his car, not looking away from you. “When will it be my turn?” 

“I don’t know, maybe when you stop saying such corny shit” you rolled your eyes, pulling a rare genuine laugh out of him. 

“Baby, tonight i’m thinking.. Something different..” he said, kissing the corner of your mouth. Your lips twitched, but you concealed your smile. 

“Humour me” 

“My place?” 

“And what exactly are we gonna do there?” you crossed your arms, tilting your head. 

“Needy fucking girl, can’t even wait till we get home to find out, huh?” he slapped your ass, taking your lips with his. 

ᯓ★ᯓ⚡︎

“C’mon baby, don’t pass out on me” he chuckled, holding you up against the full-length window of his penthouse. 

“‘M.. not, asshole” you slurred, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You weren’t even joking when you said this, his dick was so good, it was making you drool. Or maybe it was the sloppy kisses Kaiser was giving you. 

“Ngh! Fuck! Yess, yesss, kaiser, right there, ohmygod fuck fuck” 

Your pussy clenched around his fat cock, nails scratching down his back, while your legs were wrapped around his waist. 

He thrusted into that same spot over and over again. His tattooed hand slapping your ass. It was definitely red by now. 

“Ugh, fuck, you’re so warm” he groaned, pulling out till his tip was at your entrance only to slam back in. you cried out, throwing your head back. He cupped your breast with one hand, moving his lips to kiss along the column of your neck. Biting and sucking.

At this point, you don’t even try to hide the hickies anymore. Whenever anyone asks, you just tell them you don’t remember his name. But instead, you get Kaiser back by leaving just as many on him. 

He had smeared your lipstick, leaving nothing but swollen pink lips. Your mascara melting from crying.

His cock was balls deep. Not even letting you breathe for a second. How does this bastard have so much stamina? Especially while standing up and carrying you? He wiped down the foggy window, not slowing down one bit. 

“Show all of Tokyo you’re getting fucked. Let them watch while i fucking ruin your inside. Let everyone see.. How much of a fucking thrust whore thrust you thrust are thrust for thrust my cock. 

You yelled his name. Your arms locked around his neck, squeezing tight enough to steal his breath—yet he was still standing, still smirking down at you like he had all the control.

“Close!! Close, ‘m close, mihya please, lemme cum. Fuck please pleaseee” you whined, tears rolling down your face. Your throat was gonna sore as hell in the morning and your voice probably nonexistent 

“Yea? Fuck.. cum for me, liebling. Scream my fucking name. Lemme hear it. Let everyone down there watch while cum on my cock for the third time today. Show them who you fucking.. Belong to, baby..” he mumbled against your skin, biting down, chuckling at your soft sobs. 

He squeezed your ass, as you clenched around his length, nearly pulling an orgasm out of him. You came all around him. Painting his cock with warm cum. 

He soon followed, filling your pussy up nearly to the brim. Maybe you were being dramatic but it felt like his cock was in your stomach. 

Your head dropped onto his shoulder. He smiled, rubbing your back. He walked over to his bed and set you down, letting you fall down onto the soft pillows. 

“Fuck, kaiser… I.. you..” 

“Shhhh, shh, I know, it’s okay. Just sleep, let me take care of everything, alright?” you didn’t have it in you to argue, so you nodded. And within seconds you were asleep. 

After kaiser had finished cleaning everything up, including you. He pushed your hair out of your closed eyes. Admiring your calm face. 

“I love you, y/n. You don’t know it yet. But.. you’ll always be mine. And someday, the whole world’s gonna know” he smiled, Leaning down to kiss your forehead. 

Taglist: @cyberheartrebel @vaelils

A/N: Yes ik kaiser doesn’t live in Japan or Tokyo but stfu. This is Tokyo, where all the illegal races happen/j. There's something wrong with me, i can’t write a story under a 100 wc for the life of me. This was supposed to be a drabble. not edited

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[M.list] [Navigation] [street racer!AU] [street racer!kaiser]

[punkshort]

I've been thinking about this idea of a no outbreak ex-boyfriend!joel miller and I wanted to shake the dust off, so I have some snapshots I wanted to share:

Warnings: pining/longing, smut, obsessive behavior, language, jealousy/possessiveness, alcohol consumption

He never could fully accept what you had is over, so he still casually talks about you from time to time like you're still his, then catches himself and his heart breaks all over again.

He replays fights the two of you had whenever he sees another couple out in public who reminds him of the two of you and he wonders what he could have said differently.

Begrudgingly, he goes on a blind date set up by one of his friends after they beg him to try and move on, but no matter how nice or pretty the girl is, she's not you.

Sometimes he goes the long way home from work and drives past your street, just to possibly catch a glimpse of your car or, if he's really lucky, you taking an afternoon stroll.

When he sees you out in public for the first time, it's at the grocery store. You don't notice him standing dumbstruck in the cereal aisle with his heart stuck in his goddamn throat. You get a text and you smile down at your phone while you move out of the way of others to answer. You look so beautiful, it makes his chest hurt.

He goes home that night and fucks his fist thinking about you — thinking about the way you used to whimper his name, the way your nails dug into his back, how perfect and warm your cunt felt wrapped around him. But the part he misses the most is how good it felt to have you curled up next to him, cheek pressed against his shoulder and arm slung over his stomach, when he woke up in the morning.

The second time he sees you out in public, you're with someone else. He's shooting pool with Tommy when you and some guy walk in and take a seat at the bar. He overhears you talking about some movie you had just seen together and he almost snaps the pool cue in half.

Tommy doesn't notice until it's too late. You've already locked eyes with him and you look like you may faint. Your date is tapping your shoulder, unaware that the two of you have been unable to so much as blink at each other from across the bar.

Before Joel can force his feet to move, to beg you to step outside with him so you could talk, you're grabbing your date's hand and dragging him towards the door.

To stop him from going after you, Tommy buys a few shots. Tells Joel he could do better, that he'll find someone someday. The more he drinks, the more unsteady he becomes on his feet. The louder he laughs. The more he spills on his black t-shirt. By the end of the night, he's convinced Tommy that he's fine. That he needed to see you with someone else to finally accept it's over.

He told Tommy everything he wanted to hear.

After Tommy drops him off at home, Joel waits about three minutes before ordering an Uber. He tries to fight the urge, but he can't. He's too weak and he needs to see you. And, yeah, maybe he needs to make sure you weren't fucking that guy from earlier.

The Uber drops him off a few doors down from your house. He walks the rest of the way and he's relieved when there isn't another car in the driveway. Only yours.

He paces anxiously for a few minutes in front of your door, his muddled brain trying desperately to think of the right words to say. What did you need to hear? What did he need to do or say for you to give him another chance? There had to be something.

When he rings the bell, he knocks at the same time. Overkill, probably, but he doesn't want to lose his nerve.

When you answer, you're pissed, but you're alone. You're in your ratty old pajamas, the ones with a hole at the collar and an ice cream stain on the leg. He feels something pull in his chest — fuck, he missed you so much. He missed how at ease you made him feel, how comfortable you were together, how happy you made him.

You argue with him in your doorway, arms crossed tightly over your chest. You tell him he needs to move on, that he's drunk, that it's not healthy to keep calling you and he has no right to show up at your door.

He begs, pleads with you to hear him out, to give him a second chance. You call him crazy, you remind him you gave him countless chances while you were together, that you spent years waiting for him to commit.

He says he's still in love with you. That he never stopped loving you, never will. He sees something flicker in your eyes and you stop breathing.

Then, somehow, he's stumbling into your house, whiskey soaked tongue pushing past your soft lips, your arms circling his neck, moaning into his mouth, pulling him deeper and deeper until the familiar scent of your perfume and detergent invade his senses and he knows you've led him into your bedroom.

Even with all the alcohol buzzing in his veins, he still manages to do everything he remembers that makes your back arch and your breath stutter. His mouth suctions around your breast, tip of his tongue teasing until your nipple hardens, then scrapes his teeth gently over your sensitive skin. Your hips buck and your head tips back into your pillow before he continues down. He slides his tongue through your pussy, soaked and aching for him. You taste just as good as he remembers and he's so hard it fucking hurts, but he keeps going. He eats at you like he's never going to have the chance again, lapping and moaning and nipping at your cunt until his lips pucker around your clit and he sucks, making you scream his name when you come all over his face.

His head swims from how intense it all is. He didn't expect you to answer your door, let alone be laying sprawled out in your bed, begging for his cock, coated in sweat.

When he first enters you, it's bliss. It's like heaven on earth, better than he ever remembered. You're warm and soft and wet — and he's too worked up, he can't go slow. He pounds into you hard, fists dipping into the mattress on either side of your head. His jaw is tight, his eyes a little glassy and wild. Your hands curl around his forearms, holding yourself in place so he doesn't fuck you into the headboard. You're whining and gasping and rolling your hips in rhythm with his, fucking each other like you're running out of time.

He grits out something along the lines of, you let that preppy dickhead fuck you like this? And you shake your head, wail out, no, just you, Joel. He growls and yanks up one of your legs, tosses it over his shoulder, and drives into you deeper, harder, faster, the loud slapping of skin on skin deafening in your otherwise quiet room. You're clawing at the sheets and gasping his name until your body goes rigid and you come with a broken sob, tears streaming down your cheeks.

It's all he needs — he comes a moment later, one rough hand grabbing at your hip, holding you still while he pumps you full of his cum. It feels like it lasts forever and he can't stop staring at your tired, beautiful face. Even when he's done, his hips occasionally jut forward, pushing every last drop of his release deep inside your cunt, claiming you as his until you shudder and tell him you can't take any more.

Afterwards, you lay together, staring blankly at the ceiling, catching your breath and coming to terms with what you just did. You eventually clear your throat and tell him he can stay the night, but this can't happen again. He agrees, but only because he knows. He knows you to your very core, knows what makes you tick, knows what you're thinking sometimes before you even do. But most of all, he knows when you're lying. What he saw in your eyes that night told him everything he needed to know — he was going to win you back.

[wchswift]

─── SO HIGH SCHOOL

pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

summary: As teenagers, you and Dean had a whirlwind romance before everything fell apart. Years later, you reunite—and it’s like high school all over again.

contents! mutual pining, teenage love, soft, flirting and touching, stupid in love dean, mdni 𖤐 18+

word count: 2.8k

𝒟ean masterlist !

Dean was the first and only real love you had.

Well, not exactly real. And maybe not exactly love.

He was the good part of your day. That person you knew would be there. The person who made school possible and tolerable.

Dean was always known for his charm, for his way with girls. For always having them. But the moment Dean joined your group of friends and you two became even remotely close, it was as if something, a connection, that you didn't know could exist, finally made itself present within you.

It wasn't something verbalized, something explicit. But as soon as you had your first kiss, there was no one else. No other girl in school had a chance with him. He wouldn't let you go, and much less took his eyes off you.

Everything felt so real. Even if it was just between the lines.

He was the best "relationship" you ever had. The best moments and the best treatment you had from a boy were with Dean Winchester.

And then just as it all began, suddenly he wasn't there anymore.

One night you two were together in the back seat of the car and the next morning he was gone from town, without any explanation.

And when you were seventeen, that was the last time you saw Dean.

You and Dean were sure you would never see each other again. You were teenagers, it was normal. People come and go from school all the time, it was common to meet people at school and then never see them again, never find out how they are.

This is what you and Dean thought things would be like. Just a memory that would fade in time. Never having to worry about looking each other in the eye again.

But when was anything ever simple in Dean Winchester's life?

A case never ended up being just a case.

The small town didn’t exactly scream "monster hotspot," but something was definitely off. Three people had vanished without a trace in the past two months, all last seen at the same place—a cozy little diner on Main Street that doubled as a bookstore. The place was old-school charming, the kind of spot with checkered floors, the scent of fresh coffee in the air, and a tiny bell over the door that jingled whenever a customer walked in. Nothing about it screamed "supernatural danger," but Dean had learned long ago that the worst things often hid in the most ordinary places.

“Alright, so we got three missing persons, no bodies, and a common location,” Sam said, flipping through his notes. “No signs of struggle, no EMF spikes, no sulfur. If it’s something supernatural, it’s keeping a low profile.”

Dean tapped his fingers against the Impala’s steering wheel, squinting at the diner across the street. “Or it’s just smart. Maybe a witch, maybe something we haven’t seen before.”

Sam sighed. “So, the usual—talk to employees, check out security footage, dig through lore?”

Dean smirked. “Aw, you're so smart, Sammy.”

With that, they climbed out of the car and crossed the street, the bell over the door announcing their arrival. The place was warm and inviting, filled with the quiet hum of conversation and the soft crackle of pages turning. Dean barely had time to take it all in before his gaze landed on someone behind the counter.

He recognized you instantly. There wouldn't be a day that he wouldn't.

You were busy jotting something down, focused on a customer, completely unaware of him—at first. Dean’s stomach tightened, his pulse kicking up. It had been years, but damn if you wasn’t still the same girl he remembered—just sharper, more grown-up, but still you. The girl who had once snuck out of your house to meet him, who had laughed against his lips under the Friday night stadium lights, who had looked at him like he was worth something—until he left without saying goodbye.

When you lifted your head, ready to serve the new customers, that’s when you saw him.

For a second, just a second, your eyes met, and he saw it: the flicker of recognition, the moment your heart probably dropped into your stomach the same way his had.

To this day, Dean always remembers the way you used to look at him. The sparkle in your eyes, the way they seemed to smile, emanating happiness and trust.

Just seeing you made him feel as if he were in high school again.

And now? Now you were standing behind the counter, your apron tied around your waist, a pen tucked behind your ear, looking at him like you weren’t sure whether to punch him or pretend he didn’t exist.

Dean opened his mouth, but for once in his life, words failed him.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” you finally muttered, eyes narrowing.

Sam cleared his throat. "Uh, Dean—?"

“Yeah, yeah, I got it, Sammy.” Dean snapped out of it, forcing a grin. “Long time, no see, sweetheart.”

"Didn’t think I’d ever see you again, Winchester.” Your voice was calm, even, but there was an edge to it, a quiet challenge. "Guess life’s full of surprises."

Dean exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah… guess it is."

Sam, ever the unfortunate third wheel, glanced between them and shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, we’re actually here about the disappearances. We’re—"

"FBI?" you cut in, lifting a brow. "Do you want me to believe that you two are FBI?"

Dean had to bite back a smirk. Of course you weren’t buying their act. You had always been sharp. Always saw right through him.

Sam hesitated. "We just have a few questions."

You sighed, tapping your fingers against the counter before jerking your chin toward an empty booth in the corner. "Fine. Take a seat. I’ll be over in a minute."

Dean watched as you turned on your heel, disappearing into the back. Only when you were out of sight did he let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face.

“Well,” Sam muttered, “that wasn’t awkward at all.”

Dean ignored him, eyes still locked on the door you had just walked through.

Yeah. This case just got a hell of a lot more complicated.

Only to get better, when you return, you decided to act as if he didn't exist. There was no sign of recognition on your face. No lingering shock, no flicker of emotion. Just cool, effortless professionalism, like you didn’t just have the wind knocked out of you moments ago.

A notebook is in your hand now, the pen twirling between your fingers as you slide into the seat across from them. Your eyes flick briefly to Sam—acknowledging him first, like Dean isn’t even there.

“So,” you say, tone even. “What exactly do you want to know? If this is about the disappearances, let me say I don’t know much. Just that they all came in here before they went missing. We gave their names to the cops already”

Dean leaned in, arms folding as he tilted his head slightly. “You always this helpful, sweetheart?”

The nickname made your eye twitch—barely.

You finally, finally glanced at him, and for a second, all he could see was the fire behind your gaze.

“I try my best, agent.” Your lips curled in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Anything else?”

Sam cleared his throat, glancing between the two of you, clearly picking up on the weird energy but too polite, more like too damn confused, to say anything. “Uh—right. But anything else you might’ve noticed? Strange behavior? Anyone bothering them?”

You exhaled through your nose. “Not that I remember.”

Feeling that with all this tension he wasn't going to get anywhere, Sam decided to stop there. “Alright, I think that’s all we need for now, then. If you remember anything else, let us know.”

With a nod, you began to rise from your seat, your body moving almost instinctively as you embraced the end of the conversation. “Sure thing."

As Dean watched you walk back to the counter, he couldn't believe you acted as if he wasn’t even there. However, if you thought that was the end of it, you were mistaken. Now that Dean had found you again, he wasn’t planning to just walk away. Not this time.

“Dude,” Sam muttered, voice low, snapping Dean out of his reverie. “What the hell was that?”

Dean exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “It’s complicated.”

Sam frowned. “Yeah, no kidding. You gonna fill me in?”

Dean didn’t answer right away, just watched as you disappeared through the swinging door behind the counter.

He used to love watching you walk away. Now it just felt like he was losing you all over again.

After a beat, he pushed up from the booth. “I’ll be back.”

Sam sighed. “Dean—”

But Dean was already moving.

The back door of the diner led to a narrow hallway—one he knew you’d taken to get a breather. It was quieter back here, the hum of conversation fading into a dull murmur.

And sure enough, there you were.

Your hands braced on the edge of a small counter, eyes closed, breathing deep. He knew that look. Knew you were trying to steady yourself, get your walls up before he could knock them down.

Too late.

“Still not gonna look at me?”

Your shoulders tensed at his voice, but you didn’t turn. “What do you want, Dean?”

He leaned against the doorframe, arms folding. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe a little acknowledgment? A hey, Dean, long time no see. Thought you were dead or in jail—”

“Wouldn’t have been surprised.”

Dean let out a sharp breath, a humorless smirk twitching at his lips. “Yeah, well. Didn’t end up that way.”

Silence.

You reached up, rubbing your temple, like talking to him was physically painful.

And hell, maybe it was.

After a beat, you finally turned to face him, arms crossing. Your eyes were sharp, guarded. But there was something else beneath it. Something raw.

“Why are you here, Dean?”

His chest ached at the way you said his name. Not like you used to—soft, familiar, like it meant something. Now it just sounded… tired.

“Job brought us here,” he said, keeping it simple.

You studied him, unconvinced. “And what? You thought, hey, let’s stop by and ruin her day while we’re at it?”

Dean huffed a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, because that’s what I wanted. To see you look at me like I’m a damn ghost.”

You flinched. It was quick—so quick he almost missed it. But he didn’t.

And suddenly, the fight drained out of you. Your gaze dropped for the first time since this whole thing started, fingers tightening against your sleeves.

Dean’s throat worked.

He could push. Could try to get you to really talk, break down that wall you were building brick by brick.

But the way you looked right now? Like you were holding yourself together with nothing but sheer will—

He couldn’t do it.

Not yet.

Instead, he exhaled, running a hand down his face. “Look. I don’t know how long we’ll be in town. But I think we’re gonna be crossing paths whether you like it or not.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t answer.

Dean nodded, stepping back. “Just… don’t pretend I was never here, alright?”

And with that, he walked away.

He didn’t see the way your jaw clenched, the way your fingers curled into fists like you were stopping yourself from reaching out—

Didn’t hear the breath you let out, shaky and uneven, as soon as he was gone.

You knew this wasn’t the end—couldn’t be. Deep down, you knew that your story with Dean Winchester was far from over. And you knew that the moment he decided to see you again, he would pull you close once more, weaving his way into your heart until you could never imagine leaving his side again.

Weeks passed.

Looking back, you weren’t sure when exactly everything shifted.

Maybe it was after Dean came back to the diner and made you listen while he told you the truth—even though at the time you were sure that the man you once loved was completely insane.

But maybe it was when you started helping with the case, and somewhat believing him—not because you wanted to be a hunter, but because you wanted to be with him.

Or maybe it was just inevitable. Like gravity pulling you back into his orbit, like you never really had a choice in the first place.

All you knew was that, suddenly, it felt like before—like sneaking out past curfew, like warm summer air and stolen kisses in the Impala, like every love song that made your chest ache.

Only now, you weren’t kids anymore.

And Dean Winchester had never been the kind of guy to love halfway.

Which was how you ended up here.

Sitting in a diner, trying to pretend like Dean’s hand wasn’t sliding up your thigh under the table.

Across from you, Sam exhaled sharply through his nose. His patience was wearing thin.

“Dude,” he gritted out, glaring at Dean. “Can you stop touching her for five seconds?”

Dean, the picture of innocence, took a sip of his coffee. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sammy.”

Sam’s expression was pained.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, but when Dean leaned in—his lips brushing your ear when he definitely didn’t need to be that close—you swatted at his chest.

“Dean.”

“What?” He smirked, not even pretending to be sorry. “Just admiring my girl.”

Sam muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like I hate this.

But it only got worse from there.

Dean was relentless.

His hands were always on you—an arm wrapped around your waist, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, palm resting low on your back. He kissed your temple absentmindedly, whispered things that made you flush, smirked when he caught you looking at him like you still had a teenage crush on Dean Winchester.

Because you did.

You always had.

Later, at Bobby’s, the three of you sprawled in the living room—Dean practically wrapped around you on the couch, arms snug around your waist, his breath warm against your neck.

Sam was across the room, doing some research on his laptop, eyes glued to the screen as if sheer focus could block out the absolute nonsense happening beside him.

Dean, completely unbothered, nosed at your temple. “You cold?”

You weren’t.

At all.

But you hummed innocently, just to see what he’d do.

Dean, ever the problem, tugged you closer, his hands sliding beneath the hem of your sweater, tracing slow, lazy circles against your skin.

You shivered.

He felt it.

And he smirked.

“You’re shameless,” you whispered, biting your bottom lip to repress a smile.

Dean nipped at your jaw. “Yeah?” His lips brushed your ear, and God, you felt it everywhere.

“Hey.” His voice was quiet, meant just for you. “Wanna know somethin’?”

You swallowed. “What?”

Dean shifted, his mouth so close his breath fanned warm against your skin. “First time I saw you? When we were stupid teenagers?” His hands traced higher, fingers barely grazing the edge of your bra. “Damn near forgot how to breathe.”

Your stomach plummeted.

“Dean.”

“Mm?”

Your heart hammered, but you fought to keep your voice steady. “Sam is right there.”

Dean pulled back just enough to glance at his brother—who was clearly tuning you out, laser-focused on not acknowledging this entire situation.

“If he has a problem, he can get up and leave.”

You swatted at his chest, biting back a laugh, but when you turned to face him, his expression shifted—no teasing, no smugness. Just him, looking at you like he was seeing you all over again.

His fingers brushed your jaw, tilting your chin up.

And just like that, you felt seventeen again.

God, what was it about him that made you feel like this?

That made you ache?

Dean’s lips parted, his gaze flickering down to your mouth.

Your breath caught.

He grinned—slow, lazy, devastating. “You gonna let me kiss you, sweetheart?”

You were sure your heartbeat was so loud.

Sam made a strangled noise in the background.

Dean groaned, dropping his head back against the couch. “Jesus Christ, Sammy, just leave the damn room.”

“I'm living here too,” Sam deadpanned, not directing his gaze towards you.

Dean huffed, shaking his head before turning back to you—his eyes darker now, filled with something deep and warm and completely unshakable.

You swallowed, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt.

This man knew what he wanted and, boy, he definitely got you.

But God, Dean Winchester was so much. And he had been from the start.

And you were so gone for him.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

lina's notes: I should have posted this a long time ago lol, but it didn't turn out exactly how I wanted and I was a little unsure but I hope you liked it <3

taglist: @lyarr24 @cowboysandcigarettes @blossomingorchids @bettystonewell @rositaslabyrinth @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @freeluigihesbae (if you want to be removed or added let me know <3)

[meleeyz]

┈﹒ ꒰ 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗨𝗧𝗙𝗜𝗧𝗦 ꒱

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ It's the first oneshot I've written here and in English, enjoy and let me know your opinion ;)

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

Ekko’s workshop was always buzzing with a quiet, electric energy, a space where ideas sparked as easily as bolts from his tools. Today, though, the hum of his work seemed charged with something more, something new.

You were perched comfortably on his worktable, your gaze fixed on him as he knelt beside his half-dismantled hoverboard, hands busy replacing a cracked circuit. You’d shown up in a new outfit, something more “work-appropriate,” as Zeri had put it. She’d insisted on it, practically yanking you to her favorite underground tailor that morning, saying you needed “a proper look if you’re gonna hang around the Firelights.”

The end result, strangely enough, looked like it could’ve been handpicked from Ekko’s own wardrobe—a mix of utility and edge, sturdy but stylish enough to blend in with Zaun’s streets. Though it was obvious that Zeri had chosen the style, the whole look had an uncanny resemblance to Ekko’s own favorite fit, down to the last detail. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she’d done it on purpose.

Maybe he wasn’t as subtle about his hints as he thought he’d been.

You noticed him watching you, his brown eyes lingering a moment longer than he probably meant them to. You fought back a small smile and threw a comment his way, something light and sarcastic about the “coincidental” matching outfits, pretending not to see the faint flush that rose to his cheeks in response.

“Zeri did say it was supposed to be work-appropriate,” you said, crossing your arms, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “But I didn’t think she meant this close to the Firelights’ dress code. You got a hand in that, Ekko?”

He looked up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, though he didn’t respond right away. Instead, he returned to his work, tugging at a stubborn bolt and muttering something unintelligible about “stupid circuitry.” But you noticed the twitch in his lips, the way he was holding back. As he worked, you found your gaze drifting over his features. The concentrated furrow of his brow, the way his hands moved with practiced ease, the quiet intensity that settled over him whenever he was focused on a task—it was captivating in a way you hadn’t quite expected.

Ekko could feel your eyes on him, too, and the idea that you were watching him—really watching him—sent an electric thrill down his spine. He didn’t want to say anything and risk breaking the moment, but it made his hands feel almost clumsy as he tried to focus on the hoverboard.

“Enjoying the view?” he teased, raising an eyebrow without looking up. His voice was casual, but he was anything but.

Caught off guard, you huffed and rolled your eyes, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible.

“Not really. I was just wondering how long it would take you to fix a single circuit board.”

Ekko laughed under his breath, stealing a quick glance up at you.

“Good one,” he said, tightening the last bolt with a playful shake of his head. “You might look the part, but I think you still got a ways to go before you understand how delicate this stuff actually is.”

“Oh, I understand delicate,” you replied, leaning forward with a slight smirk. “I just thought you were faster than this, Little Man.”

At that, he finally set down his tools, crossing his arms as he straightened up and fixed you with a challenging gaze. “Careful with that nickname,” he warned, though his tone was light. “Only certain people get away with that.”

You raised an eyebrow, shrugging as if it were no big deal, but you couldn’t hide the amusement in your eyes.

“Good thing I’m not just ‘certain people,’ huh?”

A brief silence settled over the room, and the air thick.. Ekko glanced down at your matching outfits, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He couldn’t resist saying it now.

“Guess we look pretty good together, don’t we?” he mused, looking back at you with a glint in his eye. He tilted his head, inspecting the outfit with mock seriousness. “I mean, not that I had anything to do with it or anything…”

You narrowed your eyes at him, sensing there was something he wasn’t telling you.

“Uh-huh. Right. Because I just happened to show up looking like your twin by pure chance.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault if you’ve got good taste,” he shot back, raising his hands in defense. But there was a glimmer in his eyes that gave him away, the faintest hint of guilt wrapped in a smile. He shifted under your gaze, hands back at the hoverboard, suddenly finding the bolts extremely interesting.

“Ekko,” you said, leaning forward with a grin. “Just admit it—you told Zeri, didn’t you?”

He bit his lip, trying to hide the grin that threatened to break free.

“What? No. Me? Tell her to match you with me? Why would I… I mean, I don’t need to do that, obviously. I just… maybe gave her a few hints, that’s all.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away.

You tilted your head, your expression amused but curious.

“A few hints?”

“Alright, maybe more than a few,” he admitted, his voice dropping. “I may have… strongly suggested that she’d do me a solid. Told her you needed something sturdy, something that says ‘ready for action.’”

“And something that conveniently matches your look?”

“Hey,” he said, flashing a grin, “it’s all part of team spirit, right?”

You laughed, and the sound filled the small workshop, bringing a warmth that had little to do with the stuffy, cramped room. Ekko looked at you, his face softening as he watched the way the corners of your mouth lifted, the easy way you teased him. In that moment, he felt a surge of pride mixed with something he couldn’t quite put into words.

The tension between you shifted, settling into something quieter, more comfortable. He hesitated, caught between the impulse to say more and the safety of holding back. But he found himself taking a small step closer, his eyes serious now as they met yours.

“You know,” he said softly, the bravado slipping from his voice, “I just… thought you’d look cool. Like you belonged here. Not that you need clothes for that or anything,” he added quickly, fumbling over his words, “but… it helps.”

For a brief moment, you forgot how to speak, his words catching you off guard in a way that left you momentarily stunned. When you finally found your voice, it was softer, more genuine.

“Well, I guess I should thank you, then,” you said, a gentle smile spreading across your face. “I could get used to this look. Guess I owe Zeri, too.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, but the laughter quickly faded into a thoughtful silence. He looked down, suddenly unsure of himself, as if he hadn’t just been wearing a confident smile a moment before.

“You know, I’m glad you’re here,” he said quietly. “I don’t say it much, but… it’s cool having someone like you around.”

The words hung in the air, raw and honest, laced with all the things he hadn’t yet dared to put into words. You felt your heart skip a beat, your usual sarcasm and wit replaced by something softer, something fragile.

Before you could respond, he tapped the board, testing its balance with a nudge.

“Alright, give me a hand with this?” he asked, a little too quickly, holding it out towards you. “The stabilizer’s acting up again.”

Grateful for the distraction, you hopped down from the table, moving to stand beside him. You watched as he leaned over the board, pointing out the issue, but you could hardly focus on the gadget. Instead, your gaze wandered, noticing the fine details in his hands, the deftness of his movements, the way his focus was so intense.

Together, you both adjusted the stabilizer, a comfortable silence settling over the workshop, punctuated only by the occasional click and buzz of Ekko’s tools. When he was satisfied, he gave the board a final spin, and it hummed to life, hovering slightly above the ground with a soft glow. He grinned, proud of your combined handiwork.

“Not bad,” he said, his voice warm with pride. He turned to you, his eyes bright. “Almost feels like I’ve got a new partner-in-crime. Think you could handle it?”

You rolled your eyes with a smirk.

“You think I can’t handle a little trouble?”

“Fair point,” he replied, a laugh bubbling out as he nudged your shoulder. He stepped back, reaching out his hand toward you with a grin. “Hop on. You can test it out, see if my handiwork holds up.”

You took his hand and he put his arm around you, playfully saying that you would fall or something, whatever, you didn't really pay attention to him but instead all your concentration was on his hand holding your waist, and with a push you both left the workshop, the tree outside was as beautiful as ever, the cool breeze hitting your face and you could swear there was a strange feeling in your stomach thanks to the height.

Yeah, it was probably the height…

After a few loops, he brought the board to a slow stop, both of you leaning on each other for balance. He stepped off first, offering his hand to help you down.

“Guess it works pretty well,” he said, giving you a satisfied nod. “Must be the matching outfits. Makes everything run smoother.”

“Must be,” you replied, smiling as you gave his hand a squeeze before releasing it. “Maybe we should make this a regular thing.”

His eyes held yours for a moment longer, his expression softening as he considered your words. “Yeah, maybe we should,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

As you climbed the stairs in the tree to re-enter the workshop, you two began to chat calmly again, pretending that everything was exactly the same as before. But now you couldn’t help but feel a quiet sense of happiness. Ekko’s touch, his words, and the way he’d gone out of his way to match outfits with you—it all felt like a secret shared only between the two of you.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

[heyimkana]

I HAVE COME UP WITH AN ASK!

Ahem- so husband jin-woo and reader goes out on a date (before they have any kids). Reader loves cats so whenever she sees a cat, she runs after it and coos at it.

At some point, jin-woo would say "I'm not scared of her cheating on me, I'm worried about her running after a cat and never coming back home again" (cause reader sucks at directions- totally not talking bout myself who got lost multiple times)

WAIT JULIET THAT'S SO CUTE AAAA LISTEN I HAVE A SCENE

okay another drabble for Husband Jinwoo from Pillow Talk

So, this happened a while back when you were still engaged, like maybe a few months before you got married. Jinwoo took you to Japan for a nice little unplanned trip. It was at the beginning of spring, the sakura trees were blooming, and sure, they had those in Korea too but they just hit differently in Japan.

You enjoyed the scenery together, walking down a street lined with sakura trees. Jinwoo walked a couple of steps behind you just so he could revel in the sight of you looking so gorgeous with your hair swaying in the wind and cherry blossom petals fluttering around you. Whenever you turned around to toss a smile over your shoulder, he felt like he was falling for you all over again. He took a few secret pictures of you without you knowing and he used it as his wallpaper whenever he was away on a long mission (he's embarrassing).

Anyway, that day, as the two of you strolled down this beautiful road, Jinwoo spotted a food stall that sold your favorite dessert. He wanted to make it a surprise so he told you to sit on a bench and wait for him as he went to buy you some. You nodded and watched him leave.

You got distracted, however, when a black cat appeared before you. Instead of having yellow eyes, this one had blue eyes and it was so rare and it looked so pretty, you couldn't help but follow it with your gaze. You thought the cat looked like Jinwoo in a way, especially the way it just stared at you, kind of coldly at first, but then it circled your leg, rubbing its fur on your skin, purring. Yes, it was definitely the cat version of him.

You wanted to pet it and held onto it until Jinwoo returned so you could show it to him. And at first, the cat curled up on your lap but after hearing something, its ears perked up curiously and it jumped off your thighs. You followed it before you realized what you were doing. You thought you wouldn't stray too far.

As the cat began to walk faster with its little feet, you started to pick up the pace too. "Hey, wait!" The cat wasn't stopping. If anything, it ran faster, taking turns here and there and by the time you looked back, you realized you had no idea how to return to the street you were in before. You got separated from him all because you were busy chasing down a cat. Again.

To your horror, that damn cat was about to cross a road filled with passing cars. Without thinking, you reached out to stop it, managing to scoop it up in your arms but you lost your balance while doing so and you toppled forward. You were about to land face-first on the ground. A passing car was about to hit you, and with how fast it was going, it could've been fatal if you weren't suddenly pulled back by two strong hands.

The next time you blinked your eyes open, you were back in Jinwoo's embrace. Half of his body was still enveloped by these familiar misty black tendrils, meaning that he just used shadow exchange to swap position with the shadow he placed on you to save you just in time.

"J-Jinwoo—" Your heart was racing. You wanted to apologize for running off without telling him, but he wasn't looking down at you. He kept his gaze on the car that almost ran you over before. It had stopped abruptly because of you and the driver stepped out, cussing at you furiously in a language you didn't understand. You could tell what his message was, though. He was definitely calling you an idiot.

The man stopped, however, when he saw the way Jinwoo was looking at him. Your fiancee didn't say anything, didn't move a muscle, but he managed to drain all colors from the man's face by his presence alone. The driver bowed his head in apology several times before he ran back to his car and drove away.

Only then did Jinwoo finally look at you, his gaze heavy on your face and he was silent.

You swallowed. Jinwoo rarely got angry. If anything, he'd never gotten angry with you before, not like this. Even the black cat was beginning to whimper softly in your arms, terrified of him. It jumped away from your hold once more, but this time, you let it go.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Jin—"

"Don't be sorry if you're just going to repeat it again. I don't want your apology. I want you to be better."

It struck you how cold he sounded and needless to say, it ruined all the pleasant, romantic atmosphere that shrouded you before. Jinwoo stood tall, towering above you, watching you lose your words with anger, disappointment, and relief all swirling into one in his eyes. Without saying another line, he handed you a box of the dessert he just bought—a couple of slices of your favorite cheesecake, topped with whipped cream—and he wrapped his fingers around your wrist, dragging you back to the hotel.

Jinwoo was quiet, and the silence between you was deafening. He didn't mean to give you a silent treatment, it was just... He was trying to calm himself down first before he said anything, not wanting to hurt you with his tone or the words he didn't mean to say. He stood under the warm shower mulling to himself, thinking how easily he could've lost you back then if he had been a second too late.

When you saw him walking out of the bathroom dressed in jeans and a black shirt, ready to get dinner with you, you couldn't bear it any longer. With an uneasy heart, you hugged him from behind, your arms winding around his waist. "I'm sorry... I was an idiot. Please don't be mad at me, I can't stand it."

Honestly, he was the same, but how many times had it happened already? Why wouldn't you learn your lesson? He didn't turn around to face you just yet, but he caressed your hand. "You can't keep doing this to me, Angel. Do you know how worried I was when I returned to the bench and I didn't see you there? Thank God, I put a shadow on you but what if I didn't?"

"I'm sorry..."

"You could've been killed."

"I know." Your voice grew quieter and quieter, heavy with guilt.

Jinwoo sighed, finally turning around to face you. He gathered your face in his hands, his thumb stroking your cheek, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't lose you, all right? I don't know what I'd do without you."

You softly smiled, angling your face slightly to press a soothing kiss on his palm. "I don't know what I'd do without you, too. So don't give me the cold shoulder, okay? I'm gonna cry if you keep doing it."

He rolls his eyes at your pouty lips despite enjoying your cute act. "Maybe you should. I'm still angry, you know. Seeing you cry will probably melt my heart a little." His lips curve into a smirk, his fingers slightly pinching your cheek. "You look the prettiest when you're like that, after all."

"I'm starting to think you're a bit of a sadist."

"Never said I wasn't." As his smirk widened, Jinwoo hauled your body over his shoulder, stealing a yelp out of you. He tossed you down to the bed, spreading your legs and settling himself in between. "You know what men like me do to a disobedient little girl like you?" he asked as he pulled his black shirt over his head, the muscles in his abdomen rippled with his movement.

You gulped, your body tensing as you felt his hand pushing up your dress, his mouth placed hot and wet on every inch of skin he exposed. "W-we get... punished?"

"Usually, yes," he said, his voice so pleasantly deep and husky by the time he reached your ear. "You've been very naughty today but I still feel like treating my princess tonight. We're on a vacation right now, aren't we? We should make the best of it while it lasts." He licked a stripe up your neck, tasting your skin. "I was planning to take you out to a nice dinner, but..." He stopped, glancing at the nightstand.

You followed his gaze, your eyes landing on a plate filled with the cheesecake he'd bought you before. It was still fresh and untouched as you didn't feel like eating it before, not with the mood you were in back then. You returned your gaze to him, seeing him smile down at you, mischief shimmering in his eyes.

He reached out, coating his two fingers thickly with whipped cream. "How about we start with some dessert, Sweetheart?" Jinwoo asked as he smeared the cream over your lips. Your eyes widened, your breath caught in your throat as he leaned down and swiped his tongue across your lips. His kiss, the slow, delicate glide of his tongue, his low, soft moan, everything was so sensual, it caused your stomach to somersault in response.

He pulled away, his tongue running over his own bottom lip as he relished the aftertaste. His gaze was still fixated on your mouth, hazy with lust. There was a gleam in his eyes, one that said he'd be proud if you obeyed his command.

He scooped another bit of cream, his voice turning more dominant and possessive when he said—

[adoristsposts]

all the seasons | quinn hughes

author's note; guys i fear i may be coming back with my first non-song-inspired quinn hughes fanfic... and it's loooong. anything can be a oneshot if you post it all at once, right? summary; when stumbling upon quinn hughes seems to become a year-round habit, it's hard to deny that maybe fate might be pushing the two of you together. word count; 4.7k warnings; a little bit of purple prose probably idk i've been writing this on and off. swearing + mentions of drinking

winter

There is a large chance, you realise, that Quinn Hughes will not like you as much as your best friend has been assuring you. Cole, of course, is beaming at you like he knows some shit is going to go down. The idiot. It had taken a lot of groveling for him to convince you to come - and a lot of whining about how all the other 'old farts' on the team would bore him to death with hockey talk and flaunt their hot girlfriends, making him miss his hot girlfriend who had flown home for Christmas. All of it had ended in the promise that you would get to talk puck with your favourite players and he would buy all your drinks at the bar the eldest Hughes brother had rented out. You had agreed reluctantly. Cole was hard to say no to. After you had spilled hot chocolate all over him his first year in Vancouver and begged him to send you the dry cleaning bill, you had become a bit of a lifeline to the boy. You became someone whose apartment he stayed in whenever he was called up to the Canucks, and someone to drive the long commute to his weekend games. The two of you had become inseparable. Well, separable only by the distance between Vancouver and Abbotsford that you refused to cross on workdays. Recently called up, and staying in the guest room next to yours, Cole had been invited to the Canucks' Christmas party. A party "usually organized by Millsy's wife, but she's like, sick or something" Cole had explained to you. Therefore the responsibility fell on Quinn Hughes. "What are you all stressed about?" Cole asked, looking up from his phone and settling his gaze on you. You had been lost in your thoughts, listening to the hum of the Uber's engine and the quiet radio the driver was playing. "Dude," You breathed out, "I'm going to puke." "You are not" He said, well aware of your dramatics, "going to puke. You will be fine, they'll love you." "In ten minutes I have to talk to the Vancouver Canucks. The captain of the Vancouver Canucks. I deal with enough talking to you." You hissed out, glancing at the Uber. Was this information safe to share? Should you be worried he was going to dox the Christmas party address? Oh, God save us all. Happy birthday, Jesus. Thanks a lot. Cole laughed at you "Would you chill out? I keep telling you Quinn will love you." "I'm chilling out, I promise," You breathed, "Just thinking about all those drinks you're going to buy me." "Alright, alright."

Ten minutes later the two of you were clambering out of the Uber. "Do I look okay?" You asked him, adjusting your dress. He just shrugged and let out a grunt that almost sounded like an 'I don't know.' You rolled your eyes at him but followed him as he led you towards an eerily quiet bar. It was obvious it had been booked for a private event, but the missing element of drunk people lining the streets outside of it made the whole thing feel a little out of place. A pub for Christmas? Cole opened the door for you, allowing you to step inside first and take the place in. Whoever Quinn had hired had done a great job - red tinsel was strewn about just about anywhere it could go. Christmas decorations lined the bar, as well as a handful of Menorahs and other Hannukah decorations. The whole place was alive already. You and Cole were fashionably late, you presumed. "Let's say hi to Quinn" Cole said, pressing a hand against your upper back to help lead you towards the Captain. You wouldn't have needed the help. For God knows whatever reason, Quinn basically shone in gold to you. His face was flushed and his hair slightly sweaty from the pure heat radiating throughout the place. There was a lopsided grin on his face as he smiled at whatever joke the man across from him was telling. The bar lights, slightly tinged red, fell over him like water that cascaded down his strong nose, off his shoulders, and over his body. It was a pull you had never felt before, one that made you forget about the fact Cole was literally pushing you towards the man. Quinn's gaze slid away from his conversation and across the room, obviously taking note of if everything was running well. For a moment it scanned over you before coming back. And for a second, it was like everything in the world fell into place. Almost as if he felt it too, his lips parted and his eyebrows furrowed. Or, perhaps, you realized, he was wondering 'Who the fuck is this girl at my party?' "Quinn!" Cole greeted happily, darting out from behind you and giving the man a hug. Over Cole's shoulder, Quinn held you in a quizzical stare. When he pulled away, he asked, "Who are you?" Cole laughed awkwardly at the blunt question. "This is my friend I was telling you about. The one from Vancouver?" Quinn's face showed no sign of recognising or remembering any mention of a 'friend from Vancouver.' Instead he just stared. It was stranger, probably, that you just stared back. "Okay..." Cole said, glancing between the two of you. "I'm going to go get a drink. You want anything?" "Whatever you think I'd like." You said, finally breaking your gaze to give Cole an appreciative smile. He gave you an odd look and then backed away before fully turning around and heading towards the bar. Just you and Quinn now. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name." Quinn said. His face still held a look of perplexity. He looked so intently at you that you felt like he was trying to figure out if he recognised you from somewhere. You gave it to him, lips curling up as he nodded at the information like it was some interesting fact. "I'm Quinn. I mean- Cole just said it but.. I'm Quinn." You laughed. It really wasn't that funny, but it bubbled out of you before you could stop it. "Hi Quinn."

A few drinks later and you and the captain of the Vancouver Canucks that you were so anxious to meet had been glued at the hip for hours, talking about anything and everything you two could think of. You had wandered out to the outdoor seating of the bar. It was entirely empty, thanks to the freezing conditions of a Vancouver winter that everyone inside was trying to escape from. But you had discovered throughout the night that the heat in your cheeks seemed forever present around Quinn, and the cold air was like a soothing kiss. "Are you cold?" He asked you. "No, are you?" You asked back, eyeing his red nose and bouncing leg. He smiled and shook his head. It was quiet out here. Conversation in the bar had gotten difficult the rowdier everyone had gotten. Cole had long left you two, pouty that you wouldn't save him from awkward conversations he couldn't relate to about marriage and kids with the older guys. Quinn's hand on the railing brushed against yours. "Listen, I don't really know how to approach the topic, but do you think I could get your-" "There you are!" If you could pick a time and place for a person to drop dead, you would pick right here, right now, and Cole McWard. "I've been looking for you everywhere. I am desperate to go home- No offense Quinn, the party's great." "Okay, okay," You said, "Right now?" "The Uber's outside. I've been frantically searching for you ever since I realized you and Huggy here had left your little corner." Shit. Okay. You turned to Quinn. Even at the sight of him, a stupid grin broke out on your face. There was something romantic about him that you couldn't quite place, like it was written all over his face that he should be the star in some cheesy movie about loving and loving hard. "See you around?" You said. "See you around."

"Did you get his number?" Cole asked in the Uber. "No," You sighed, "And fuck. 'Cause he's hot." "If it's meant to be, it'll be." He shrugged.

spring

April hit like a drug. After a few weeks of pining over Quinn Hughes (who had chased Cole down to ask if you were single and then gone radio silent), and then a few hours of remembering you were single and didn't have to care, the first few months of the year had flown by. Work had been hectic, and you loved it. You navigated the isles of the florist's shop, on call with Cole through your headphones. You made a beeline to the lilies, choosing the pink ones and complaining to Cole about some client of yours that had been beyond difficult. "Seems to me like you need to lock Hughesy down and retire so you take all this over-achiever energy and put into being the captain's wife." Cole snorted. You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you, "I told you, I'm over that." "You were like, in love with the man." "And he did nothing about it!" You exclaimed, walking up to the cashier and paying for them. You mouthed a quiet thank you and moved on. "He literally always asks me about you." "Yeah, on the rare occasion you get called up. I think that's just called small talk." You huffed. Cole sighed, "Listen, just... I don't know. You guys seemed good together. It'll happen." And then he ruined the moment by quoting Surf's Up "I can feel it in my nuggets." You snorted at him. "Whatever, it's whatever. I've got to get home, I'll call you later, okay?" "Okay, bye." He hung up quickly. No drawn out goodbyes for you two. With a start, you realized you had forgotten to ask him if he had remembered to set aside a ticket for you for his game Saturday. You quickly pulled up your messages, typing out the question for him. About to hit send you- A grunt and the feeling of the hard pavement on your ass stopped you before you could. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, that's totally my fault and- Quinn?" You were surprised by the blue eyes that stared at you as you pick yourself up. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, then open, then shut, like a fish. You furrowed your eyebrows at him. "Are you alright?" He stuttered to life, like a machine rebooting. "Yes! Um, yeah, I'm all good. I haven't seen you since..." "Since the Christmas party." You finished for him. You wanted to press your lips into a thin line, tell him to have a good life, and move on. God, you wanted to. But something about Quinn made your brain muddled. You smiled at him. He smiled back. "Want to grab a coffee? I can buy you some flowers to make up for the ones I just crushed." True to his observations, the lilies you had just bought were bent out of shape from hitting the floor with you. "Yeah. That would be nice."

Quinn Hughes, you were beginning to realise, was easy to stare at. It was like every part of his face was designed with some gravitational pull that just beckoned you closer and closer until you were entirely enamoured with the way his mouth curled as he talked. You didn't realise the conversation went quiet until it did, too busy staring to clock that he had finished talking. He cleared his throat and you broke out of your trance. "Sorry." You said. "Listen.." Quinn trailed off. You were a little afraid he was going to call you out and tell you that you were making him uncomfortable. "That night. The Christmas party- God, I hope I don't come on too strong here but.. We were good, right? There was some crazy, cosmic connection. Please tell me I didn't make that up." It was like the air had been sucked out of the room and forced into your lungs. You wanted to call all your friends who had told you that 'delusional doesn't get anyone anywhere' and tell them that he had felt it too. The feeling that before you locked eyes the world hadn't moved, hadn't been set in motion until you knew the feeling of his gaze on you and yours on him. You wanted to cry out, 'Yes, you idiot', but instead you settled for a smile and "I felt it, trust me." "I was going to ask for your number, but Cole interrupted and I felt like maybe it was a sign that I wasn't ready for you yet. Like maybe the universe was telling me to wait for you. God I sound like such an idiot. And if I freak you out and you turn me down just know I will still replace those flowers," He was talking slowly, sure of himself, "But I would really like your number now. If you and the Universe want me to. Have your number, that is." You placed a hand over his, hoping that the sign of interest would get him to stop rambling. "Firstly, my lilies better be replaced. And secondly, you could've had my number at the party, universe be damned, but I'm just as happy to give it to you now"

summer

There was nothing that compared to the absolute defeat reflected in Quinn's face as he wrung his hands sitting on the couch. An injury for earlier in the season had flared up again, leaving him scratched from the second round of the playoffs- a round that the Canucks were struggling in without their Captain. It stressed you out to see him so stressed out. And you honestly had no clue what you were supposed to do. Since exchanging numbers, the two of you had done just about everything other than put a label on what you were. It was terrifying and exhilarating and you didn't know if you should turn the television off or not to spare Quinn from what was beginning to turn into a nasty loss. It killed him to not be able to fly out for the away game, to not be able to be there for his team. Having him play through his injury had left him sidelined for weeks, and not allowing that injury to fully heal before he picked up his stick again had bothered him until finally the medical team had to force him to rest. Even now you knew he'd be laced up and on the ice in seconds if he could be. "You alright?" You asked him, "Need any ice or heat or anything?" Your apartment had become his over the past few months. His gear had a permanent spot in your coat closet and his Yankees cap hung up next to your Abbotsford one. And now everything Quinn-care was stored around the place. He grunted in response, eyes still glued to the screen. "Quinn." "Jesus, what?" He snapped. At least he broke his gaze from the TV. Immediately, he softened. "Sorry. I'm alright, thank you. I'm sorry." You moved from your station behind the kitchen counter and sat next to him on the couch. "I know it sucks." You told him. "It's one more week. I want you healed, Quinn. You gotta help me here." "I know, I know." He pressed his lips into a thin smile, grabbing your hand and turning back to the game. He stroked circles onto the back of your hand. Even with the ups and downs of the game, they never lost their rhythm.

You fell asleep listening to the hum of the commentators and the sounds of skates and sticks on the ice. When you woke up, Quinn was texting furiously, the pads of his thumbs beating on his phone in an almost soothing dance. "Everything alright?" He didn't turn. "Yeah, babe." "How was the game?" "They lost. Sorry- give me a second, I'm texting the groupchat." You hummed in response, not bothering to talk. He was lost to the hockey he was replaying in his mind. Over and over on a loop until he felt he had identified what went wrong and how he could fix it. You unfurled yourself from your place amongst the pillows and rose, your bones cracking and groaning in pleasure from getting out of the position. You padded to the windows, closing them. They had been open to release some of the heat in your apartment, but now all you wanted to do was sleep without worrying about pesky insects getting in. When you turned back to the couch Quinn was still typing. "I'm going to bed, you coming?" You asked him. He turned and gave you his big stupid grin that hung lopsidedly on his face. "In a minute. Don't wait up, okay? I know you have work tomorrow." "'kay" You wandered into your bedroom, slipping yourself into your sheets. Over the past few months of seeing each other it had become near impossible for you to sleep without the white noise of Quinn's quiet snores next to you. Roadies were beginning to genuinely impact your functionality at work, with the lack of sleep and following overconsumption of caffeine messing with you. Quinn was the complete opposite of everything you had searched for. Being best friends with Cole, you knew what dating a hockey player was like. And you had been adamant you didn't want anything like it. His schedule made everything about dating difficult- not to mention the added privacy that was required in his situation. On top of it, he was entirely enamoured with hockey. When you caught him zoning out during movies or taking a little too long to reply in conversation, you knew he was just dreaming of it in the same way he had his whole life. It was what made him so undeniably talented on the ice. And as a fan of the sport yourself, you understood. And God help you, you forgave. Because you wanted nothing other than him. The boy had tainted you completely. If you ever had to date again, if the two of you never did label anything and just fizzled out, he would have ruined you for anyone else. There was no one else with his passion and dedication. His ability to take charge and make the best of difficult situations. And no one who made you feel so whole. He was far from what you were looking for, but he was what you needed. A man. One that was still texting his groupchat as you drifted closer to sleep without the heat of his body next to you. But twenty or so minutes later you felt the brush of a kiss at your temple and the familiar dip of the bed as Quinn slipped into his side. And you fully fell asleep to the smell of his cologne and the feeling of his chest against your back.

fall

"You're going to be my wife." Quinn cooed. You turned around from your seat in front of your vanity, narrowing your eyes at him. "Quinn, what?" You were shocked at the statement. Also shocked at the fact that you didn't quite hate the idea. The two of you had become official a month or so back, and the four weeks had felt exactly like the four weeks before it: calm and blissful. He was smirking at you from the bed. You studied his face. You had never been more obsessed with someone's face. You could probably close your eyes and still accurately point to where his beauty mark was, you were so obsessed. There was something so romantic about him. It opened a pit in your stomach and swallowed you whole. You were like a teenage girl with a crush. Quite literally weak in the knees at your big-girl age of 23. "You're going to be my wife." He repeated, rising from where he sat on the edge of your bed. You turned back to your vanity, allowing him to plant both hands on the back of your chair and lock eyes with you in the mirror. "My wife." He said. Third times the charm, you suppose, as the reality of how insane he sounded hit you. "Your wife?" You almost snorted, "Is this a proposal after one month, Hughes? You know you're yet to even meet my parents." "I've met them!" He defended, "Over the phone- that is so not the point." You rolled your eyes at him. "It's also not a proposal. I just know." At your unimpressed look, he said "The universe, baby." "Sure, Hughesy. Are you ready to go?" You and Quinn were heading out to your last dinner of the pre-season. Getting ramped back up had been difficult with off-season trades and signings and finding the chemistry in a practically new team had taken it's toll on Quinn. But the pressure would be tenfold once the season started. The players and fans were ravenous for a cup. Years of hard work were starting to pay off with better records and longer playoff runs, and you knew that when Quinn closed his eyes at night he was dreaming of that pretty piece of metal. One that, you had admitted to him while drawing patterns on his chest, you had always wanted to be able to kiss like all your hockey idols before you. "I'll get it for you" He had said like it was a shiny piece of jewelry. "You better" You had replied, sealing the promise with a kiss. "Yeah, I'm all ready, pretty lady."

winter

"Happy three years" Quinn smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. You laughed at him, "What are you talking about? Put your shoes on." The two of you were on your way to the Canuck's annual Christmas party. This was your first year sharing the responsibility with JT Miller's wife. You still weren't quite ready to fully take on the role. Although the woman insisted you would have been fine on your own and seemed a little eager to officially pass the mantle of party-planner onto you. Quinn was still staring at you. "The uber is here, you goof" You tugged him by his shirt out of the door. "We're going to be late." "Happy three year," He repeated. "What? Our anniversary is in September" "We met three years ago. Happy three years, my love." You stopped in your tracks. "Oh my god, Quinn, I'm so sorry - I didn't even realise." He smiled at you. Three years in and that look still made you melt. His hair was freshly washed, and the wet strands fell across his forehead like they were styled to look perfectly messy. His ever-scruffy facial hair seemed custom made to frame his perfect smile. "If you don't stop looking at me like that, we're going to miss the Uber and the party. That I planned" You put an emphasis on the last part like it would deter him at all. You had left a couple 'you' planned parties because he wouldn't stop looking at you a certain way. Being in love had never been so entirely overwhelming for you before. You could remember when you met him like it was yesterday. The electricity that charged between you two. The feeling that your heart was trying to claw itself out of your body so it could get to his. It was nothing you had felt before and something you had felt every day since. He grabbed your waist with one of his hands. One of the many things Quinn brought up when he raved about fate and the universe was the fact that he claimed you fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. That it was his "God-given spot." The sap. You felt the same, secretly. "Happy three years," He said, still giving you that fucking smile. You tilted your head to look up at him. Lifting to your toes so you could reach him comfortably, you pressed your lips against his. He parted his lips quickly, a hand making it's way to your chin to angle you into the perfect position. The kiss got passionate fast, and your hands explored his chest, smoothing over his pecs. One wandered over his shoulder, pulling him into you, while the other grabbed a fistful of the flannel he had thrown on over his long-sleeve.

The buzzing of your phone interrupted you. He tried to chase your lips with his as you pulled away, but you gave him a playfully stern look and he gave up. "The uber is literally texting me, Quinn, we have to go." "I have the flu." "You do not." "I'm very truthfully ill. I don't think I should risk giving it to my teammates and their girlfriends. I think we should stay home." You quirked an eyebrow, "We? I can go without you." "If I'm sick, so are you." "You are not sick, Quinn." "Oh I am. Outrageously so. The Scarlett Fever, I think." "Quinn," You laughed. "The Bubonic Plague." "Come on." "Marry me." "We're- What?" Quinn hadn't faltered at all. "Let's miss the Uber. Marry me." "Quinn, what? Are you still joking?" His face paled a little at the question, "Why? Do you not want to?" You swatted his shoulder, "Obviously I want to. This is so not a funny joke." He looked into the hallway past you, like he was scanning for an aggravated Uber driver coming in to drag his customers into his car. "Wait here." You opened your mouth to protest that you really truly were going to be late now, but he was already thundering back towards your apartment. He rushed in, the door not even having enough time to click behind him before he raced back out. In his hand was a black velvet box. "I was waiting for a good opportunity. I thought maybe when I got you that Stanley Cup. Or at the lake, but I couldn't wait that long." "Quinn" You breathed out. "I love you. So much. And I know I've said a million times that I'm going to marry you, but this time I'm asking for real. Marry me? We can have a big wedding with everyone from the team and a crazy venue and my mom can fuss over your bridesmaids so you don't have to and Cole can even be your Man of Honour. Or we can have a tiny, courthouse wedding with just you and me- and maybe Jack and Luke. I don't care. Just marry me?" You had expected, your whole life, that the world would spin on its axel the day you got engaged. You had thought profusely about this exact moment, and how everything would change, and wondered if your husband-to-be would pick the perfect ring. But you didn't even care if Quinn ever opened the box. If it was the ugliest thing you'd ever seen in your life. And it didn't feel like the air had left your lungs, and it didn't feel like everything was changing. It felt like everything was slotting in where it was supposed to be - and this was your place. Maybe not in your dingy apartment that you loved too much to move out of for your boyfriend Quinn (a problem that would not arise for your fiancee Quinn, you realised as you began to dream of a gorgeous house and a few little Hughes running around that most certainly would not fit in your one-bedroom one-bathroom) but your place with him, however you could have him. You couldn't even get the words out, opting instead for a tearful nod. Quinn surged to you, wrapping his arms around you. Overcome with emotions, you practically collapsed. Quinn helped you lower yourself to the floor. You grabbed for him, taking a fistful of his shirt and using it to pull his lips to yours. "I love you," You murmured against them, "And we are totally missing this party." He laughed in response, pulling away and pressing his forehead to yours. "Absolutely. Now get this ring on and let's get off this gross floor, yeah?" Your face hurt from smiling, but your grin somehow got even wider. "Yeah."

[genderlessdude92]

GENTLE, PLEASE

PAIRING: Alastor x Wife!Reader SUMMARY: Y/N, like the nervous wreck she is, can’t stop spending her free time worrying over something that’s not even a big deal. Of course, one thing lead to another. (Thank you, Charlie, for letting them have the day off). WARNINGS: (SFW) Reader is female, Reader is hellborn, Reader is VERY anxious (alastor as well, but not too much), reader is sensitive obv, angel is angel, usage of y/n, established relationship cussing on both parts, Alastor owns readers soul. (NSFW) alastor’s pain kink shows a little bit, lingerie, reader is TIGHT, reader is also virgin but is registered adult!!!, mention of a safeword, p in v, slight orgasm denial, reader’s tears, soul-chain bondage, alastor knots. Mentions of pregnancy^^ idk if there’s angst in this that counts but both have a good ending so dw (LMK if i missed anything!!!!)

NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.< Property of @l4zyb0n35 and @genderlessdude92

Requests are open, support is highly appreciated!

〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*･ﾟ♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~

Alastor was a man of his word.

Y/N was sitting in her room, tired from her piece of vibrating plastic that brang her ‘pleasure’.

“You look gorgeous in your bliss, darling.”

Whenever Alastor rubbed her, ate her out, it made her feel real pleasure, though.

But, did he?

What was real pleasure?

“I’m too big for you, sweetheart, maybe another time.”

Another time.

Did he want another time?

“You’re almost like Charlie’s mother, Hah! We’d make great parents.”

The look he gave you.

Y/N felt so relieved after hearing Charlie was going up to heaven for a meeting just a moment ago, but now all of these stupid…that’s mean. All these overwhelming thoughts were plaguing her head.

She threw the piece of plastic across the room.

She had to give him something.

when was the last time you talked to him? when was the last time you crossed paths with your husband during work? when was the last time you cooked for him?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

22:10 PM

She couldn’t sleep.

Was she good enough?

Ugh.

She put on a flimsy oversized shirt she usually wears to bed, some polka-dot pajama shorts, and white, knee-high socks.

She didn’t bother to change her underwear garments from the night before.

Y/N looked around before heading out of her hotel room, in case anybody saw her, to Alastor’s room.

Y/N was so happy when Alastor ‘accidentally’ mapped her room next to his on one of the secluded floors when the hotel was being rebuilt. How happy she was, indeed.

Knock knock knock

Silence. but only for a moment before she heard and felt the soft familiar static come closer to the other side of the door.

“Come in, mon cher.” He greeted as he opened the door, stepping aside. His room looked neat and clean, unlike Y/N’s. mostly because there wasn’t much stuff…and he had a whole bayou, making the room bigger.

She nervously walked over the the edge of his bed and sat down, breathing in the smell of his familiar cologne.

“Whats keeping you up so late? you’re usually a slumbering baby at this time of night!” He chortled, sitting down next to her on the plush bed of his.

Fuck.

He was wearing silk pajama pants and a robe, but the robe was just barely tied tightly, exposing a majority of his chest. His monocle was placed elsewhere and his hair was slightly disheveled.

Crap, you woke him up didn’t you.

“…I don’t know.” You dumbass, wrong answer! she scolded at herself.

Alastor chuckled again, “Just missed me?” he asked.

That reminded Y/N of back then. When it was simple and new between them. Before they went to this hotel, decades ago when the two met. She would always go over to his manor in the middle of the night after roaming the streets and feeling lonely.

Ah, yes. Now i have to work for the princess.

“…Yeah…missed you.” Y/N forced a smile alongside that little white lie.

He sighed, “…Alright, what’s going on?” He placed a place on her tensed shoulder, rubbing it soothingly, gently.

Cornered. Y/N didn’t have a choice, “Do you…Do always mean it when…fuck- when you s-say you-um- want to have a child with me?” She said without breaking her eye contact to the floor.

You didn’t have to say it like that, fucking hell

Alastor’s movements froze. “…a…um…” His smiled turned strained, “-a spawn?”

Y/N teared up. there was no way she was getting out of this one.

She whimpered, “…sorry.” before her hands shot up to her face, Alastor grabbed her wrist-

“I would love to. Y-You know I am a man of my word…” Alastor confessed with a chuckle, “-But…only if you are comfortable with it, mon amour.” Alastor went to her eyes level to try and meet her eyes.

Y/N froze. Her tears stopped.

…Holy fuck.

Y/N looked at him, to search for any disapproving emotion in his eyes.

None.

“…I-I want to.” Y/N confessed back, “…too.”

Alastor’s smile softened, he pulled Y/N with ease into him lap, “I’m glad,” and immediately kissed her.

The kiss was soft, sensual, gentle, even. Alastor’s hands began to roam under her shirt once she opened her mouth for him.

Alastor broke away from the kiss for a moment, a string of saliva connecting to their lips, “Y/N…?” he tugged on her shirt.

Oh god, what do i say?

“…Is there something wrong?” Y/N silently panicked.

Alastor widened his eyes for a moment but then softened his demeanor, “You shirt. Can i take it off?” He kissed her lips once more.

Fucking idiot. A brain dead patient would’ve known what that meant.

“…Yes.” She smiled nervously as he broke the the kiss.

Alastor nodded before bunching the hem of her shirt in his claws, “arms up, dear.”

As Y/N put her arms up, letting him gently take off her shirt, Alastor noticed how she was…wearing lingerie.

The lingerie that she wore the night before.

see what i did there

As Y/N put her arms down, she noticed how Alastor was staring at her under garments…

That she didn’t change from last night.

Y/N squeaked and ripped the bra off her body, tossing it away and into the bayou.

Now you’re bra-less.

Y/N slowly look up at Alastor, afraid he was going to scold her for not caring about her hygiene and stuff like that.

Alastor had always scolded her for skipping certain chores to, ‘take the weight off Alastor and Nifty’s shoulders’ whether it be showers, making the bed…laundry.

Dirty landry.

Alastor sighed, “I love you, Y/N,” He laughed softly, “-my clumsy doe.” He finished the sentence with a lustful growl, his claws tickled down her spine, arching her back.

“…I…I love you, t-“ almost immediately, Y/N was pinned down into the center of the bed, Alastor lips crashing onto hers like a starved man.

Fuck yeah, it was hot.

Alastor began to knead his claws at her breasts, squishing them so.

he grinder himself to her clothed core, making her throb for his touch, some contact. It almost felt like all those other times.

…but…it didn’t feel right.

Alastor, after needing a breath of air, noticed the tiniest hint of this, and grown worried,

“Are you alright, dearest?” He checked in.

She was unsure. Yeah, she was in the mood…but she just felt nervous, and he felt so confident.

“…anything i could do?” Alastor questioned once more, still hovering over her, his antlers slightly sizing down.

Think, Y/N, you were fine before, what was he doing before…

“…can you um…be gentle?” She winced, thinking that she sounded like some kind of needy loser. Oh, lord-

“-Why…o-of course, mon cœur.” he reassured, rubbed his thumbs over her small, plush breasts because kissing her once again.

Nothing could have compared more to how satisfied Alastor felt when she moaned.

It wasn’t a pornographic moan either, it was…natural. needing, almost.

Once Alastor slipped his tongue into her awaiting mouth, he began to unwrap his robe, tossing it to the ground and leaving his chest bare for her.

She gasped, “Oh, Al…” before she could wrap her arms around his neck, she felt him tug at her loose shorts,

“May I, darling?~”

Y/N nodded like a frantic woman, lifting her bottom up so he could take off her shorts, awaiting to find her panties completely soaked.

He pushed her bottom down with ease, “Dear, you seem to be completely moist,” Alastor commenting with the low vibration of static in his voice, making Y/N blush frantically. “Tell me, what turn you on so much? Perhaps…” Alastor swiped a finger through her panties, making her yelp. He then brang it back up to his mouth and licked itc moaning softly, “…was it my switch in demeanor?”

Y/N clenched as the sight. Alastor scooted back and lowered herself to her pussy, licking her slowly through the cloth guarding her. When he got to the location of her pearl, he pushed his tongue down onto it, receiving a moan from the receiver.

But his tongue wasn’t enough at the moment.

She wanted more.

“N-no…please, Alastor…I want you.” Y/N pleaded. she was impatient, she couldn’t just sit there and go through what was the usual.

She needed more.

He growled. “Anything for you, ma lumière.” Like an inpatient man, he tapped the bottom of her butt, signaling her to raise it. She did so, and almost immediately did he swiped her panties off of her, resulting in a gasp from Y/N.

Alastor crawled over so his pelvis was just on top of her. standing straight on his knees.

Alastor unbuttoned his silk pajama pants, his hard cock springing free right out of his boxers.

Nothing could have prepared Y/N from how big it looked.

Estimating, it was probably 7.5 inches minimum, and have mercy on her-

It was seriously…thick.

She looked up at Alastor worried. Alastor noticed this and softened his expression,

“You’ll be okay. I’ll go slow for you.”

Y/N nodded, but it certainly didn’t make her feel any better. She was still clenching her womanhood as well, just slightly at the thought of how bad this might hurt.

Alastor sighed. “The safeword is…stop.” Alastor told her. Hopefully that would make her feel safer.

…she opened for him.

When Alastor looked down to examine her, he saw how each second she opened, her juices would stick to her pussy’s lips in strings.

His dick physically throbbed more.

After hooking her legs up and around her waist, he lowered his body down more so that his cock was in lined with her vagina.

Slowly, he rubbed his length up down down through her folds, collecting as much natural lube as he could for her pleasure.

-But the sounds definitely weren’t helping, making Y/N face glow a darker tint of red than before. So, she just zoned out to the rumble of Al’s static.

What snapped her out of her zoning, although, was the burning of her hole, hissing in discomfort.

“Shhh…” Alastor hushed, “Just let me put the tip in, then i’ll stop.” Alastor, still, waited for confirmation.

Fucking pussy, Y/N thought, can’t even take the tip?!-

“o-okay.” She grasped onto his shoulder for an anchor in the pain. I can get through this.

Alastor still gave her a moment before shoving the full tip in, making her wince in pain, squeezing his shoulder.

Alastor hushed her again, “relax for me, darling…” he lowered his mouth to her left nipple, softly suckling on the nub, and effort to ease the pain. As Y/N released more moans, bringing one of her hands up to rub the lonely breast.

After a moment to let her settle around him, he pulled away from her nipple with a pop, bringing her hand back up to his shoulder.

“Just relax for me…” Alastor suggested before closely pushing some more length into her. “You,” he groaned, “You’re doing so good for me…”

How is she so tight?

Tears began to form in Y/N’s waterline. Alastor looked up at the sight and pondered what he could do. After a few moments, he stopped until he was just halfway into her, he leaned down once more to place his lips on her tears, her forehead, and then her lips, whispering affirmations in the middle of each kiss.

…was this too slow?

Y/N couldn’t believe her thoughts.

She pulled away from his lips to speak, “A-Al…put it in…i’m ready…” she requested with desperation in her tone, “i need all of you…”

Alastor looked up at him to spot a lie in the process, “Are you sure, my love-“

“Alastor, fuck me.”

That made Alastor moan, which then turned into a growl as Alastor subconsciously grew into a slightly bigger form of himself, snapping his hips with force into her.

Y/N cried out, but silenced Alastor before he could say anything, “S-Start moving, Al, please…” She took one of her hands off a shoulder to rub her nub, moaning softly as the newly added pleasure mixed with him slowly bottom out before snapping back into her.

He repeated this motion for a moment before slowly picking up her pace, making her moans short between thrusts.

“A-Alastor, ngh…” She called for him, grasping onto his shoulder once again. She tried to pull him down for a kiss.

“Use your words, m…mon cher.” he breathed and he kept his euphoric pace.

“K-Kiss me…” Y/N pleaded through her moans.

Alastor quickly leaned down to peck her lips before breaking the quick kiss,

“I’m gonna fill you…” He quickened his pace, his form becoming more menacing as his antlers grew, “with my seed.” He finished his sentence by smashing his lips onto hers.

As Y/N’s legs began to slip, he quickly used his tendrils to press them to her chest,

Positioning her into a breeding press.

“Ah…A-Alastor…I’m gonna-ah!” Alastor changed his pace to a brutal, electrifying one.

Y/N didn’t even care if he were to be gentle, she just wanted that sweet relief of relea-

“You don’t cum until i say so, darling.” a green shackle on Y/N’s left ankle appeared as a warning. “Understood? Those are our rules of the bedroom.”

He wasn’t wrong there. Those were the rules. He never wanted to feel under-powered in the bedroom at all, so that included orgasm denial.

And Y/N was completely fine with it.

But how quick and hard he’s hitting that far spot in her walls?

Just made her feel like there was no control.

“Alastor, please…” Y/N let tears she didn’t know we’re building up fell.

Alastor hushed her comfortingly, “Sweetheart-fuck-sweetheart, y-you’re almost there…” Alastor could feel himself knot inside of her,

…He wasn’t even sure that he was knotting until Y/N’s moans turned into groans.

He swiped some tears off her cheeks, “Mon cœr, you’re r-ready to cum?” he shot one of his tendrils down to her pussy, rubbing it at a rapid pace. Alastor leaned down to whisper into her ear, the static in his voice now on mute, “cum for me, then.”

That’s when the coil snapped.

The same time when Alastor spilt him seed deep into her womb.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

23:04 PM

Y/N was exhausted.

“Darling, i need you to sit up for a moment.” Alastor demanded.

Y/N groaned like a toddler.

“…fine.” Alastor put down the glass of water onto the nightstand, taking one knee and placing it sorely onto the bed to get closer to her, his shadow helping to lift her butt up as he wiped extra semen off of her.

after a moment of him disappearing into the bathroom, he came back looking neat and ready for bed.

…with a genuine smile on his face as his eyes met your tired ones.

Alastor went to the other side on the bed, sighing as he felt the soft surface under him.

He scooted closer to Y/N to get her under the blankets, dramatic, he thought as Y/N made a whine of protest again from the movement.

Once everything felt to his liking, he laid down next to her. and pulled her close, nuzzling his cheek into her hair.

“…Hey…Al?”

“mhm?”

“…I love you…”

He softened his smile, chuckling light-heartedly,

“…I love you two, as well.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

BONUS ☆♪

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Hey, sweet cheeks,” Angel called from the other side of the lobby, walking over to Y/N, “Still up for that event thingy at the new bar? Heard that the sharks are blackl-“

Angel stared at the sight before him.

Y/N, laying on the couch with her legs slightly spread and a heating pad on the thighs.

“…Don’t-“

“Is it just me, or do i see you…a supposed to be virgin friend of mine…sore from a…” He examines the current position for a moment, walking around the couch to stand in front of her, “…breeding press position.”

Y/N stares at him like he’s her next target on a murder spree.

And which, he probably was.

“What? I’m and expert with this kind of stuff,” He pulls out his phone and sits next to you, “forget that I work for Valentino? Damn, how good was that sex?”

“Angel, if you want to keep the ability of having sex, be quiet.”

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩

END NOTES: I felt rlly devious making this fic 😍 But all jokes aside, i rlly need some writing tips since this is literally my first fic ever 😭

-Lynn

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩

Masterlist link

[extinctlesspains]

hiiiiii Can you do Sae byeok x fem reader Where they are best friends but act like a couple (Holding hands, kissing each others cheek and Beck, cuddleing/spooning each other, reader sitting on Sae byeoks lap, ect.) and everyone/ her parents think that you two are a couple. Thank you and have a Good Day or night

𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡? [𝐾.,𝑆𝑎𝑒-𝐵𝑦𝑒𝑜𝑘]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

ʀᴇᴏ̨ᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: ʏᴇs ᴏʀ ɴᴏ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴋᴀɴɢ sᴀᴇ-ʙʏᴇᴏᴋ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ғʟᴜғғ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʙᴇsᴛ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ sᴀᴇ-ʙʏᴇᴏᴋ sʜᴀʀᴇ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʙᴏɴᴅ ғɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴀɴᴅ-ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ, ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋ ᴋɪssᴇs, ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟɪɴɢ, ʟᴇᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴠɪɴᴄᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴜᴘʟᴇ. ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ғɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs, sᴀᴇ-ʙʏᴇᴏᴋ ᴋɪssᴇs ʏᴏᴜ, ʙʟᴜʀʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅsʜɪᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ᴡᴀʏ.

ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs: ᴋɪssɪɴɢ

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

You and Sae-byeok had been inseparable since middle school, bound together by the shared struggles of growing up and navigating life’s unpredictability. From the moment you met, there had always been something unspoken between the two of you—an unshakeable closeness that most people would mistake for a relationship.

It was just how you were with each other.

You held hands when you walked through crowded streets, Sae-byeok’s strong grip always tugging you closer when she felt someone brush too close. She’d instinctively kiss your temple whenever she saw you stress over exams, and you’d kiss her cheek in return when she did well on something.

Sitting in her lap wasn’t unusual, either. Whenever the two of you watched movies or studied together, it was the most natural thing in the world for you to curl up against her, your arms slung lazily around her neck while she absentmindedly twirled strands of your hair around her fingers.

Her parents, who adored you like their own daughter, had long since given up trying to figure out the nature of your relationship. “You two are so cute together,” her mother would say with a fond smile as she handed you a cup of tea. “When will you finally make it official?”

You’d always laugh awkwardly, glancing at Sae-byeok to see how she reacted. But she never seemed bothered by the assumption, simply shrugging it off or teasingly resting her head on your shoulder.

But the truth was… sometimes you wished it were true.

One chilly evening, you found yourself in Sae-byeok’s room, bundled up in her bed after a long day. She’d insisted you stay over since it was too cold to walk home, and you didn’t need much convincing. The two of you had shared a bed so many times it didn’t even feel strange anymore.

Now, lying tangled together under the blankets, you felt her arm drape around your waist, her breath warm against the back of your neck. Your hand reached back to rest on hers, tracing small circles with your thumb.

“Comfy?” she asked softly, her voice low and soothing in the quiet.

“Always,” you replied, turning slightly so you could see her face. Her dark eyes looked softer in the dim light of the room, and you felt a familiar warmth bloom in your chest.

Moments like this made you wonder.

“Sae,” you began hesitantly, “do you think… maybe everyone has a point? That we act more like a couple than just friends?”

She blinked, her expression unreadable as she tilted her head slightly. “Does it bother you?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, it’s not that. It’s just… sometimes, I wonder if I want it to be real.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, and you held your breath, worried you might’ve crossed some kind of invisible line. But then Sae-byeok shifted, her hand slipping from your waist to gently cup your cheek.

“Maybe it already is,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart raced as her thumb brushed against your skin. You searched her eyes for any sign of hesitation, but all you saw was the same steady calmness that had always grounded you.

And then, before you could overthink it, her lips were on yours—soft, warm, and familiar in a way that felt like coming home.

The kiss didn’t change much between you, at least not outwardly. You still held hands, kissed each other’s cheeks, and cuddled like nothing had happened. But the energy between you felt lighter now, less burdened by uncertainty.

The next time her mother teased you about being a couple, Sae-byeok’s lips twitched into a barely concealed smile, and she laced her fingers through yours.

“We’ll see,” she said simply, glancing at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

And just like that, everything and nothing had changed.

[merakiui]

thinking about ace who starts buying clothes (especially sweaters and hoodies) in larger sizes in the hopes that you'll ask him to borrow you one. don't get it twisted! he's not doing this because of that silly "boyfriend fit" or whatever. 🙄 just,,,, it would be nice........to see you.....in his clothes......and being comfortable...... yeah. on second thought, don't even ask him for a hoodie!!! >:( remember that time you didn't let him crash at ramshackle? now it's his turn to be stingy with his stuff!!!

ace who, whenever the two of you are walking side by side in town, takes the side that parallels the street. you keep switching places with him because you can never walk in one place and ace gets huffy about it. when you ask him why, his voice gets softer and he averts his eyes and mutters something about how it's safer if the guy stands on the side closer to the street. he just wants to make sure you're safe. because..... BECAUSE who else is he going to bother if a car hits you and you die!?!?!?!? you punch his arm and he makes an exaggerated show of almost falling into the street, feigning hurt. and this is why he's staying on this side! ...or something like that, he insists with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

he's also your "excuse me. they asked for no pickles" guy. <3 ace stands up for you an absurd amount of times. if you tease him about it, he'll (with a sly grin) tease you back: "ohhh, so you want me to be a little mean? is that it?"

he's also a "this one's for you" and then completely misses the shot guy.

whenever you come to watch his basketball games or practices, he makes sure to do his best just to impress you (and later rub it in your face because you told him he can't ball. he'll show you!!).

ace who, for every teasing remark and flirt, never follows through. he's all talk (mostly). truly a cherry boy through and through. so what if he gets flustered when it rains and your shirt becomes see-through and he huffs and drapes his uniform blazer over you, muttering about how you're a lost cause!!! so what if he makes sure to save a seat for you at lunch so you won't ever feel left out! so what if he has "that look" or gives you "those eyes" whenever you aren't looking (so fond of you he doesn't even realize it). he's not in love! gross. what a dumb idea. >:p

also also!!! ace who makes jokes that harbor truth. he constantly jokes about sharing a bed (because there's only so much space. definitely that and no other reason...), and if you ask him if he wants to share a bed with you he scoffs and says something playful like, "you'd like that, wouldn't you?" AAAAA NO, ACE!!! T_T you'd like that!!! or you and your other first-year friends dress in fancy attire and go to a fast food restaurant and he goes on and on about how he cuts a pretty cool figure in a suit, wouldn't you agree? you don't even have to say anything; he knows you like it. maybe if you ask him nicely, he'll wear it for you again. ;D

the type of friendship where everything's mostly jokes between the two of you and so those moments when ace is very soft and sincere always catch you by surprise. he remembers things about you that you don't expect him to remember, and ace thinks you're so dumb (secretly affectionate) for thinking he'd forget these details.

or when you go clothes shopping/thrifting. maybe you have bags from lunch or other stores. he insists on holding them so you can look around freely. you give him a dubious look. what does he want in return? he's definitely going to hold this good deed over your head later... ace rolls his eyes playfully and takes the bags from you anyway. you laugh at him: "okay, boyfriend. thanks." he stands there in the middle of the store, bags hanging off of his arms and shoulders, and then it hits him.

he does a lot of things for you that cross into boyfriend territory, doesn't he?

[firewasabeast]

Tommy wondered when they would cross paths again.

Somehow they'd managed to go seven years without meeting, so it wasn't wild to think another seven might pass before Tommy had to lay eyes on him once more.

He thought about what that meeting might look like. Whether they ran into each other at work, or at a coffee shop. Maybe Howie would need help with something and Evan would be there. Maybe they just so happen to end up on the same street and can't avoid each other.

He thought about what Evan might say to him. He'd probably look Tommy in the eyes with that million dollar smile, head tilted just so, and thank him. "You were right, Tommy," he'd say. "I didn't think so at the time, but you were right. I finally found my last, and I have you to thank for that." It wouldn't be said out of a place of anger, or spite. It would just be honest, and he'd say it as though Tommy had given him a gift.

And Tommy would smile back, because that's what he did, and he'd reply, "Told you so. I'm happy for you, Buck." And the words would sting. They cut into his flesh like a knife, blood pouring out of wound that only he could see.

He'd still be alone. Holding onto endless regrets that he couldn't find a way to rid himself of. Living off of what if's and could've been's, while Evan had the life he so deserved with a partner he so deserved.

These thoughts ran through his mind so often that he knew whenever the time came, he'd know exactly what to say to Buck. It'd be perfectly rehearsed.

But that was supposed to be seven years down the road.

So he was a bit surprised when, four months after the breakup, there was a knock on his door. And the shock at who was there had him saying the wrong name. "Evan?"

"You were wrong, Tommy," Evan started and... that's not how it's supposed to go. "I didn't know how to say it at the time because, well, you didn't really give me a chance to catch up, but you were wrong. I don't know why you think you can't be my last, but you're all I've thought about since you walked out of my place. I- I don't know what our future looks like, and I don't know if we'll be each other's forever, but I'd like to be your now. And if now turns into forever, that would make me very, very happy."

He should tell him no. Tell him it's too risky. Tell him he needs to go and really think about what he's saying.

Instead he reaches out a hand, feels warmth where Evan's palm meets his, stares into his eyes and on a shaky exhale tells him, "Come in."