#Don't think Miles wouldn't show it off

[prettypieck]

ᴄᴀᴍ ɢɪʀʟ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Xavier x Reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: cam girl reader and her sweet friend Xavier who sheepishly agrees to sleep with her for 'content', but ends up fucking her so good that it starts to look a little too real on camera

ᴀ/ɴ: This is my first time posting on Tumblr, so please go easy on my writing lol. I also wrote this at 2am hehe. 3.6k words purrrr.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Xavier, Xavier smut, love and deepspace smut, MDNI!, backshots.., fingering, idk what else to put

It was one of those days... you counted through the tips you earned at the local cafe you worked at and realized you were short to be able to pay your rent this month. You throw yourself on your couch in frustration, it was time to do your little side hustle again, except the side hustle isn't actually that little. You log onto your account on your phone and see all the money you were making from your previous videos, if it wasn't obvious, you were a cam girl.

It was something you started about a year ago, you would only film solo on your bed with all the different toys you owned. However, you noticed recently that your views were beginning to tank, maybe you needed to do something different to bring the attention of your audience back.

You quickly post on your account about anyone having any suggestions for your next video. Immediately, responses begin to flood in with people recommending the same thing: film with someone. With the amount of responses you were getting, you would be able to pay rent for next month as well.

You throw your phone on the couch and stare at the ceiling. Fuck. Who could you film with? Who would actually be down for that? You close your eyes and think about your options. But you startle when you hear a loud thud coming from the floor above you and then it hits you.

Xavier...

Your sweet neighbor and dearest friend, maybe he wouldn't mind, but then again he's so reserved and quiet you don't know if he'll even say yes to it. You grab the pillow next to you and scream into it from embarrassment of something you haven't even done yet.

Fuck it, asking him is better than getting evicted. You get up and smooth down your outfit and try to be presentable before heading up a floor to his place. Your heart goes a million a mile as you raise your hand and knock on his door.

You stand and wait as you hear shuffling on the other side, he was coming to the door. When it opens, Xavier stands there with his ruffled hair and rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

"Y/N," he says in his soft voice, "come in." He opens the door wider and lets you in, you rub your arm and walk in. Why were you acting like you've never been in his apartment? You wanted to smack yourself to stop being so shy about asking this silly question. Maybe you need to ease into it...

"Hey Xavier, what was that loud crash I heard earlier," You ask as you walk to his couch and take a seat amongst all his plushies that he had. He walks over after closing his door and picks up one of the plushies off the ground and raises it to show you, "this is the reason."

You follow him with a look of confusion as he also sits on the couch as well, stretching his arms back behind the couch. He lets out a chuckle at your puzzled face, "I guess the plushie we won last week at the arcade together isn't happy in my home, I got up after my nap to grab some water and tripped on it."

You laugh at that, Xavier was always tripping and falling. "Maybe the plushie would rather be with me, I'm the one who got it out the claw machine after you basically wasted all our tokens," you tease him and at that he rolls his eyes playfully.

"Be my guest," he yawns again and raises his arms above his head in another stretch and that's when your eyes begin to wander. His plain white t-shirt just slightly stretched at the collar rode up when he raised his arms and you can see his abs underneath. Your eyes wander even lower where he's manspreading and you notice his grey joggers, and your throat goes dry at the obvious bulge right in the middle. Woah, he was packing. You snap out of looking when he stops and looks over at you, "What's wrong?"

You blink at him twice, "what are you talking about?" He tilts his head slightly, like he's analyzing you, making you more nervous. "You're really red, are you feeling feverish?"

You flush even more at that, why can't you control yourself. "No," you inhale sharply, "actually- I came here to ask you something." You grip the end of your shorts in nervousness and your eyes look around before you finally have the confidence to look at Xavier again. You see he hasn't moved his gaze away from you, he blinks and waits for you to continue speaking. You flush at his undivided attention, Xavier used to be shy when you guys first became friends, but now he has no problem holding your stare.

"Uhm, so you know how I work at the cafe," he nods at that and you continue with a sigh, "well... sometimes I can't make the rent, so I also have a second job and it's online. I make content and I was wondering if you could help me with it."

Xavier's eyebrows come together like he's thinking about something, "...content? What kind of content?" It seems like he's not following what you're saying, you feel like you're corrupting an innocent soul who clearly doesn't dabble in this kind of stuff. Suddenly, you feel like aborting this mission.

"You know what, never mind," you say quickly as you get up from the couch to leave, but you barely make it a step away before Xavier grabs your wrist. Your body is hot in embarrassment, but you turn to look at him still seated on the couch, he looks at his hand on your wrist before looking up at you.

"I'll help you."

You blink once and then you blink twice. "Really?" He nods and you sit back down on the couch when he tugs on your wrist lightly, you liked that Xavier was willing to help, but you needed to be honest about what he was getting himself into. You close your eyes for a brief second and then blurt it out, "I'm a cam girl."

It's deathly silent and you keep your eyes shut as your face flushes once again. After what feels like a minute, you open your eyes and Xavier is staring at you, but this time just as flushed as you are. You can't help yourself when you begin to ramble to help save this situation, "I understand if you don't want to be the one to have sex with me, especially on camera, even though your face won't be shown. I've always done everything on my own. This is also new to me, I just couldn't think of anyone else that would be willing to help me-"

You stop when Xavier interrupts you, "I'll do it."

"Really?!" Another nod from him and you throw yourself at him for a hug. He catches you as you say a million thank you's.

Eventually you are back in your apartment that same night after your shower to prepare to film with Xavier. You gave him a time to come over earlier and were now wearing your best lingerie under your robe and had done your hair and makeup. The camera was set up in your bedroom, you decided it was best to film and post the video later rather than be live. You were afraid Xavier would accidentally show face and you wanted to avoid the awkward parts with him being out there on the internet.

Finally, there was a knock at the door and you go answer. Xavier was dressed casually and you watch him as he looks down at you and then your robe before his ears flush and he looks away for a second. "Hey," you breathe and he gives you one of his small smiles as he enters your place. "Hi."

He takes off his shoes at the entrance and follows you to your bedroom. You glance at him, "are you ready?"

He smiles at you again, "yeah, are you?" You laugh a little at that, before nodding. The next five minutes are spent with you adjusting the camera while Xavier sits in the middle of your bed awkwardly, you were making sure to just show him from his neck down. Once that's set you click record and walk over to your drawer and pull out one of your vibrators.

Xavier follows your every move as you move towards him and take off your robe in one quick motion, leaving you in only your underwear and bra. He feels like the breath left his lungs as he trails his gaze down all of you and back up. You are beautiful. Perfect. He couldn't believe he was going to be able to hold you like this, touch you like this.

You crawl onto the bed and get comfortable between his legs as you look at yourself on the camera monitor. You were much smaller than Xavier, so your whole body and face was in view. "Here," you tilt your head back to look at his face as your hand holds out the vibrator to him. He flushes when he looks at it and then back to you, but you feel yourself pulse when you see the slight heat behind his eyes.

He takes it from you before hesitantly asking, "Can- Can I touch you?" Your heart races in anticipation as you nod at him.

Your body lights up with goosebumps when you feel his left hand trail up and down your waist. You guys hold each other's gaze, as you relax back into his chest. Your eyes drop to see him put the vibrator down next his thigh and he raises his right hand to gently grab your jaw. His thumb caresses your face as he stares at you, and his gaze alone makes you feel damp between your legs and he hasn't really touched you like that yet.

He continues his gentle rubbing and then his hooded gaze drops from your eyes to your mouth. You don't remember whether it was him or you to initiate it, but you guys begin making out. It's gentle, sensual. His lips are soft and every so often his tongue begins to peak through and you allow him in. Your tongues begin fighting for dominance and the kiss begins to get a little more heated, you reach your right arm over to the back of his neck to keep his mouth on yours.

Your body tingles as he hums into the kiss and breaks it to look into your own heated gaze before going in for another kiss. While this continues, his right hand reaches down to your thigh and he rubs it before moving your legs to be against his spread ones. This leaves you open right to the camera and you gasp lightly when you feel the slight breeze against your damp underwear.

Your body slightly jolts when you feel something rubbing against your clothed sex. You break the kiss this time and look down to see Xavier rubbing the vibrator up and down your sex before you throw your head back against his shoulder. He takes the opportunity to kiss your exposed neck and shoulder, as his left hand goes up to squeeze your breast through your bra.

You can't stop the hums and pants that leave your mouth before you can't take the teasing anymore, "more." "More?" Xavier leaves another kiss on your neck before looking down at your flushed face. "Then beg for it."

Your breath hitches, was this really Xavier? Your quiet friend who is the sweetest person you know asking you to beg him. But your body is so heated you actually listen to him, "Please, I want more. I want you."

You watch Xavier as he groans at your words before diving in for another kiss, this time you feel his hands at the waistband of your underwear as he pulls them off. You raise your hips and then your legs as you help with sliding them off. You keep your legs parted and when you guys break away from your kiss for the third time, you can't help but watch Xavier's face. He looks into your eyes before he looks down and groans again, "Look at how pretty you are."

"Touch me, " you beg with a pout on your face, "please."

Xavier wastes no time in tossing the vibrator to the side as his hand reaches between your legs and his finger grazes between your wet folds. "You're soaked," he says into your ear and your eyes rolls when he rubs on your clit for a quick second before going back down to your entrance, teasing you with his middle finger.

Your hips roll in attempt to get his fingers to fill you up, and when he finally finishes teasing you, he sinks one of his digits in. Your eyes roll back with a light moan and when he pulls the finger back out, he eases back in with two this time. One of your hands grips his thigh while the other holds on to the bicep of the arm that's in between your legs. Your hand nor your vibrator would have felt as good as his hand did.

Xavier was reaching spots inside you that had you writhing against him and moaning. He kept talking you through it, "you're doing so good baby." You feel yourself clench around his fingers at the nickname and he hums at that. "You like when I call you baby?"

You can't stop yourself from nodding your head. Your high was coming so fast, your panting louder as your body began to shake. Xavier clearly noticed this, pulling his fingers out at the last second to rub them against your folds, purposely avoiding your clit. You groan out in protest and he shakes his head at that, "Use your words baby. What do you want?"

You have no shame holding his gaze when you speak, "I want you to make me cum. Please."

He smirks at you, "good girl."

You don't expect it when he plunges his fingers into you and begins a deep pace that has you back on edge. Your moans get louder and your nails dig into him when you finally reach your climax.

You feel like you had the life fucked out of you, but it was hardly over. Xavier brings his hand filled with your juices to his lips and sucks them clean. That makes you only want him even more, and you get on your knees in front of him. Reaching the hem of his shirt to help him take it off and then the next moment you're both naked and making out once again.

You both can't get enough of touching each other everywhere.

Xavier positions you on your hands and knees in front of the camera. You both moan when he begins to rub himself against your folds. None of you seemed to care that he wasn't even wearing a condom, you just wanted him inside you already.

"I want you inside me," you whine and Xavier hums in response, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you push your hips purposely back into his and feel the head of his cock dipping in. He lets out a grunt before tightening his grip on one of your hips and then slowly begin pushing in.

Your mouth falls open as your face scrunches up while he stretches you out inch by inch. Xavier was definitely more on the larger side, so you needed time to adjust. You can't help but let out little whines and pants, before turning your head around to look up at him from behind you. He felt like he could come just like this, the look on your face enough to send him over the edge.

"You're taking me so well baby," he praises as he finally bottoms out inside you.

At some point, you can't remember how many times you've came already. Xavier was relentless, changing the pace each time he made you cum.

“Look at the camera,” Xavier grunts hoarsely as he grabs your hair and pulls your head back. You let out a moan as you lift back to rest on your forearms, arching your back and looking at yourself on the camera. 

You looked more fucked out of your mind than you usually do in your typical content. You could see the skin around your eyes turning red from the tears, the blush on your cheeks and the way your reddened lips hang open with drool threatening to spill from the corners. And this is all due to the cause of one thing.

“X-Xavier,” you can’t help but moan out his name, knowing you’re going to have to cut that part out later to keep his identity a secret. He groans in response, his thrusts not stopping their pace, you feel him kissing your cervix with each one. He pulls out slightly more than halfway and then goes in with a grind at the end of each one. 

“Yes,” he’s breathless, “yes, baby.” You stare at the his sculpted body from behind you through the camera, biting your lip and whimpering as you can only see his mouth hang open. The rest of his face cut off from his height on his knees and the fact that this is how you’ll keep his identity a secret when you post it. But it’s hard when you can feel his name on the tip of your tongue once again, you want to chant it like a mantra. You want to see him.

Fuck it. 

You shake your head slightly and feel his grip loosen on your hair, and you turn your head around to look at him. The sight of him alone has you clenching around him and your eyes rolling, he was glistening with sweat and the look in his hooded eyes was darker than you’ve ever seen. His damp hair stuck to his forehead. Upon seeing your face as well, Xavier couldn’t help but moan, his brows furrowing, and he grips your hips tighter. You looked so beautiful like this, just like this for him. 

You begin pushing yourself back into him again to meet his thrusts halfway and your mouth hangs open once again. Both of you held eye contact, not bothering to even remember that the camera was still rolling with your face not in it. 

“Xavier you feel so good,” you slur your words as you feel so drunk off of every thrust he gives you. His dick was touching places you couldn’t yourself. Xavier was thinking the same thing, your pussy was sucking him in and he felt its pulse with every movement. The way you moaned his name made him even more feral. You felt what he was feeling and now he was never going to let you go. 

“Fuck it,” he says under his breath and you gasp as he suddenly presses forward and his chest is against your back. He wraps his bicep around your neck, using his elbow to prop him up as the lock around the front of your neck has you facing towards the cameras once again. 

“Like that,” you moan loudly as he continues to pound into you, squeezing your neck and face in his arm. Xavier’s face was showing in the frame now, he no longer cared to hide while fucking you for your content. This felt personal now. 

You can feel his breath in your ear as he pants and grunts right next to it. Yet you still can’t take your eyes off him on the monitor, watching him turn his head to nip at the shell of your ear and you can see his smirk forming as he makes a ‘hmph’ sound. 

“Like this,” he grunts as you feel his other arm reach down under you and find your clit. You squeal at the sensation added with everything else and if it weren’t for Xavier pressing you into this position, you would have collapsed. 

“Mmhmm,” you hum as he works you better than you can do with yourself and your toys. 

“Look at us baby,” Xavier’s head is right next to yours on the frame, both of you flushed, “we’re perfect together, this pussy was made for me. Gonna fill you with my cum and you’re gonna take it like a good girl.”

He accentuates the last two words with two hard thrusts. All you can do is choke on your own words as your vision goes white and you feel your walls clench around him. He lets out a groan of your name before you feel the warmth of his cum filling you up.

You both are panting and sweaty as you guys collapse and lay there for a second. You feel like you can't move. Xavier kisses your shoulder before getting up and clicking the end of the recording on the camera. He walks out of sight before coming back with a warm towel as he gently helps clean you up.

Xavier goes back to being the sweet man he's always been. And as he comes back into bed to cuddle with you, you realize you guys aren't going to be just friends.

[harunayuuka2060]

Ace: Bruh-

MC: *works as a barista* What?

Ace: You can make coffee?

MC: Why? It's not like it's hard, you dumbass.

Sebek: You shouldn't be addressing your customers that way, human!

MC: Shut up, you damn half-fae. No one's talkin' to you.

Sebek: Krk... Hmph!

Ace: You're so rude.

MC: Hurry up, what's your order?

Ace: Uh, I'll get a cappuccino.

Sebek: Mine's affogato!

MC: Okay. Go to your seats.

Ace and Sebek: ...

Sebek: Hmph! I wouldn't have come here if it weren’t for Waka-sama's recommendation!

MC: Then fuck off! You're not the only customer here!

Sebek: !!!

Ace: Yo, what the fuck-

Ace and Sebek: *have observed that even when MC is rude/hostile with customers, the business's still booming*

Ace: It's surprising how this place hasn't gone bankrupt.

Sebek: According to Waka-sama, this human makes the best coffee and never gets your order wrong.

Ace: Well, they never mess with their job - whatever it is.

Sebek: Still! Is it too much to ask for them to show some basic respect?!

Ace: Yeah... I don't think you should be talking.

Sebek: What did you say, human-

Customer A: *yelling* This is not what I ordered!

MC: What's your name?

Customer A: Ethan!

MC: Ah, so you're fucking illiterate. It clearly says 'Anthony', you piece of shit.

Customer A: ...Oh.

Customer B: *whose name is 'Anthony'* I'm sorry for the trouble, but he drank mine so...

MC: Sure. Give me a minute. *leaves for a minute then comes back with Anthony's order*

Customer A: Why do you have his order ready?

MC: I made one in advance because I could smell stupidity from miles away.

Customer A: ...

Ace and Sebek: ...

Ace: Dang.

Sebek: So this is what Waka-sama was referring to when he mentioned there’s entertainment...

[icupblog]

Where did the party go? (batfam x neglected reader) This is part 2!! part 1

Your hands shake as you bring the water to your parched lips. The cold embrace of the liquid makes you sigh in satisfaction. The outfit you were wearing suddenly felt too tight and your makeup felt like a second face on top of your own.

This was the biggest moment of your life... so far. Compared to your siblings it wasn't that big but to you, it was everything. You can't think of them now though. Even the mental image of any of your so-called family made you feel bile climb up your throat.

You don't need them, or their validation. After everything that has happened you need to forget their harsh words and unforgiving cruelty.

----------------------------------

2 years earlier

The cold hallways recognised your presence as you walked through them. You feel like a zombie, knowing who you were but pulling your body away from your brain, your mind slowing down as every-time you take another step a part of your image dies.

Maybe you were dramatic, maybe you were immature, maybe if they actually cared you wouldn't be. Your hands shake as you grip a bannister. Where were you going again. You didn't even know. Eventually you came to the familiar scene of the kitchen.

The sink was filled with dishes, had they eaten dinner already? what time was it? You hadn't even realised. All you could think of was that mask, his mask. Your supposed brother. The empty eyes that he would stare at you with when he slowly cut your skin open.

You were about to leave, the thought of food in your body made you feel sick. When you saw him. He never showed you his face but you could recognise him anywhere. He could never hide from you. You could spot him out from a mile away, seek him out in a crowd easily.

His body was fire, and yours was gasoline and paper. He would ebb away at you until all that was left was ash. His pupils widened in recognition at you. "name...hi" You couldn't move, he would attack you, throw you against the wall. As he slowly reached towards your shoulder you winced.

Was this some kind of cruel joke?, did the universe hate you that much? "listen, I-I'm sorry, I wasn't in my right mind and-" your breath became shallow. "I guess I took it out on you" tears filled your eyes, this is it, he came back to kill you. "besides me and Bruce are trying to work things out so-" he took his hand off your shoulder and put it behind his head. He wasn't touching you, could you escape? "maybe we could be a real family-" You bolted, you couldn't stay still anymore, you ducked under his arm and ran past him. Back to your room back to safety.

Turns out Jason's presence was not in fact a joke. He became part of the family, Or maybe he always was. He would make inside jokes with Damian, learn sign language for cass (something you had done when you first met her, not that she noticed). He would even hang out with Tim and Stephanie two people who could not physically stand to be around you for more than five minutes. Maybe in some way you wanted his attention because maybe if you had his you could be part of that family.

It got worse the more Dick came round, his cheery aura meant the family would constantly be around each other. And you were not part of that family. They would have movie nights (without you), hang out at arcades (without you) and even spend Christmas together (they would always forget to buy you presents). Even Bruce went along with them for gods sake, were you really worth so little? Just because you weren't in spandex? You were so insignificant that Alfred just referred to you as 'miss' almost as if he had forgotten your name.

In these moments you would think back to times when your mother held you in her arms as you opened your presents, it was never anything expensive but you would cherish every one, no matter how much it cost. When she smiled her eyes would crinkle, you always wanted that, a life full of smiles and laughter. Yet for some reason you only got sadness.

-----------------------------------

Present day

When you asked a Wayne child what they wanted to be when they were older they normally answered with something artistic and niche like when Damian said he wanted to be an artist. Except you knew he would be even more insufferable if he was one so you thought he was better staying in the tights. Or Cass wanting to do ballet, not Cass you mentally scold Cassandra, when has she ever asked you to call her Cass.

You on the other hand wanted to make an impact, a small irreversible dent on the world (not literally). So now that you are 18 you study law. Is it difficult? yes, but weirdly rewarding. Getting out of Gotham made you realise how shitty that place really is. The air felt like it was choking you and the overall atmosphere felt heavy. Moving to Metropolis was like getting a weight lifted off your shoulders.

You were able to get a scholarship with a college you had great friends. You loved how bright it was all the time, and you weren't being kidnapped every other month, you were feeling amazing.

You had made a life for yourself, a somewhat stable, broke, happy life. What you didn't expect was for the family to remember you or even worse miss you...

yippee I made another one!!

there might only be one more chapter for this series because I'm on exam leave and I'm sick but thank you for all the support!! <3

[bytemee]

WILDFLOWER — kim minjeong & yu jimin.

now, i know that you love me. you don't need to remind me. i should put it all behind me, shouldn't i?

synopsis. you’re heading off to college with a scholarship, leaving behind jimin—a girl who you fell for, knowing the complications and the walls she put up. then minjeong comes into the picture, someone so different, but similar at the same time, you find yourself pulled toward to her. but when jimin reappears, everything gets messy, too messy.

pairing. yu jimin x fem!reader x kim minjeong

warning(s). angst, fluff, slow burn (?), love triangle, unresolved feelings, and let me know if there's more!

words. 4.6k

authors note. tried something different w the writing style. plz enjoy & yes there will be a part two i think..........................

you don’t know when it started, this thing between you and jimin.

maybe it was the first time she laughed at one of your dumb jokes, tilting her head back like the sound was too big for her body. maybe it was the way she always waited for you after work, even when she finished before you, leaning against the doorframe of your shared space with a lazy smile.

maybe it was the way she touched you—soft, fleeting, never enough. a hand on your wrist when she wanted your attention. fingers brushing over yours when she passed you something. the occasional, completely unnecessary adjustment of your collar or your jacket.

small things.

things that added up.

“you always look at me like that.”

the words catch you off guard, spoken lazily as jimin leans back in her chair. you’re at work, supposed to be focused, but instead, your eyes must’ve lingered too long.

you blink. “like what?”

she smirks, stretching her arms above her head. “like you want to say something.”

your stomach tightens. you force a laugh, shaking your head. “you’re imagining things.”

she hums, unconvinced, but drops it. that’s how jimin is—she flirts and teases but never really lets you know where you stand.

and you, like an idiot, let her.

it goes on like this for weeks and then months. every time you gather up the courage to say something, the words die on your tongue. how could you possibly sum up how you feel? besides, there are so many reasons why you shouldn't act on it. you work together. she has a boyfriend. you're just a stupid girl with a crush, and she's…well, everything.

you tell yourself it’s not a big deal.

sure, your pulse spikes when her hand brushes yours while walking home. and sure, maybe you replay certain moments in your head—her laughing at something you said, her leaning in too close to show you something on her phone.

but it’s harmless, right? you’re friends.

and then there are nights like these.

it’s late, the sky inky black above you, and the two of you are walking in sync like always. after work, you walk home together like always. it’s unspoken at this point, a routine you never bothered to question. you live a few streets apart, close enough that it makes sense, but far enough that you both know you could’ve made different choices. she could’ve left with the others. you could’ve taken a different route.

but you never do.

“what if we just dropped everything?”

you glance at her, raising an eyebrow. “dropped everything and did what?”

“ran away. started fresh. maybe somewhere by the sea. or the mountains. someplace with no one around for miles, just trees and peace and quiet."

you laugh. "if i ran away, you'd come with me?"

"of course," she says. "who else would put up with me?"

"right, who else…"

"i mean it." her voice is soft, almost lost to the sound of your footsteps. "i wouldn't go anywhere without you."

she laughs, a sound that makes your chest ache.

you wonder if she knows what she’s doing. if she realizes how easy it is for her to say things like this, to build these little worlds between you, only to leave them behind like they never mattered.

the conversation shifts, meandering through different topics. work, dumb customers, and her latest obsession with some random drama she’s been watching. she talks about it animatedly, her hands moving as she explains some plot twist that apparently changed her life.

you’re only half-listening.

because she’s glowing under the streetlights, her eyes bright, her lips curved in a soft smile. and for a second, you let yourself imagine—

if things were different.

if she didn’t have a boyfriend.

if you were braver.

if she looked at you the way you looked at her.

but then she bumps your shoulder with hers, pulling you back to reality. “hey. you’re quiet.”

you blink. “just tired.”

she doesn’t push, doesn’t ask what’s really on your mind. instead, she nudges you again, grinning. “don’t fall asleep standing up. i’ll leave you here.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “no, you wouldn’t.”

she hums. “you’re right. i wouldn’t.”

and that’s the thing about jimin. she says things like that all the time—things that feel like confessions if you listen too closely. but she never follows through.

so you don’t say anything.

you just keep walking, side by side, pretending this isn’t killing you. pretending she doesn't notice. pretending it's enough.

the email comes in the morning.

a scholarship. fully funded. a chance to study something you love in a way you never thought possible.

you should be happy.

and you are.

but then there’s jimin.

and you don’t know how to tell her.

you put it off for as long as you can. days pass, filled with the same routines, the same inside jokes, the same late-night walks home. but every time you try to bring it up, the words die in your throat.

it’s stupid. she’s not your girlfriend. she’s not even yours to begin with.

but she means something to you.

and part of you is terrified that when you tell her, she’ll just… shrug and move on.

like this was never a big deal.

like you were never a big deal.

you finally tell her on a night that feels just like any other.

you’re walking home together, just like always. the sky is dark, the air is cold, and there are so many stars overhead that for a moment you forget to breathe. she’s rambling about something—work, a new song she’s obsessed with, and you’re not really listening. your heart is pounding too loud in your ears.

then—

“i got a scholarship.”

she blinks at you.

you force a laugh, rubbing the back of your neck.

it sounds fake even to your own ears.

a beat of silence, and then—

she slows. “for what?”

you tell her.

she nods, taking it in. “that’s incredible.”

there’s a pause. a beat too long.

then she asks, carefully—“where?”

your fingers tighten around your bag strap. you look at her, hoping for what? reassurance? an answer? some sign that this is more than what it feels like? "a state away."

but there isn't one.

she stops walking.

for the first time, you see it—the shift.

the way her mouth parts slightly like she wants to say something but doesn’t. the way her fingers twitch at her sides. the way her entire posture stiffens, just for a second, before she forces herself to relax.

she smiles.

it looks wrong.

"wow. that's great," she says. "congratulations."

you nod slowly, your chest tight. "thanks."

there's another pause, heavier than the last. you don't know what else to say. she doesn't seem to either. it feels like there should be something. something to make this easier. something to fix whatever this tension is. but you're both quiet, and the moment stretches out between you like an unspoken truth.

finally, she clears her throat. "well… i'm glad you told me." she starts walking again, forcing a smile. "we should celebrate."

"right. we should."

the next few days are strained. you try to act normal, but it's hard when everything feels off. when she smiles too wide and laughs too loud, like she's trying to prove something. when she avoids eye contact and changes the subject whenever you try to bring up the scholarship. when every conversation feels stilted and forced.

and you get it—she's hurting. but so are you.

so why does it feel like she's the only one allowed to show it?

on your last day at work, she walks you home again. this time she's not catching you up on her drama or talking about some new album she wants you to listen to. she's quiet, her hands shoved in her pockets as you walk side by side. the air between you is heavy with things unsaid, and you don't know how to break it. how to fix this. how to make it right before you leave.

before you go.

and before you can think better of it—

you step closer.

she doesn’t move.

your heart is in your throat. you don’t know who leans in first. maybe it’s you. maybe it’s her. maybe it doesn’t even matter.

all you know is that one second you’re standing there, drowning in the weight of goodbye, and the next—her lips are on yours. and it feels like everything. it feels like fire and ice and every cliché you've ever heard. it feels like coming home after a long day. it feels like all the times you wanted to do this and didn't. it feels like regret and relief and pain and pleasure.

it feels like love.

when she pulls away, it takes everything in you not to chase her lips. her eyes are wide, dark with want, and for a moment, you let yourself hope.

then—

she steps back.

"i'm sorry."

her voice is barely above a whisper.

your stomach drops. "jimin—"

"i shouldn't have done that." she shakes her head, running a hand through her hair. "that was a mistake."

you don't say anything. what can you say? that it wasn't? that you've been waiting for this for months? that you don't regret it? that you're in love with her?

no.

she already knows all that.

she just doesn't care.

she has a boyfriend.

she's not yours.

so you just nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. "okay."

she bites her lip. her eyes are shining. for a second, you think she might say something. apologize again, explain, and tell you what's going on. but then her expression shifts, and the moment is gone. she steps back, clearing her throat.

"i should go."

you nod. "yeah."

she turns and walks away.

you watch her go, your chest aching.

"i'll miss you."

the words slip out before you can stop them, falling into the space between you.

she freezes.

but still—

she doesn't look back.

she keeps walking.

until she's gone.

that night, you sit on your bed and stare at your phone. you could text her.

but what would you say? hey, sorry about earlier. i didn't mean to ruin things between us. i just had to know what it was like. but i won't bring it up again, i promise. everything will be normal when i get back.

you could try calling, but the idea of hearing her voice makes your stomach twist.

you could try emailing.

you could send her a letter.

you could do anything.

but you don't.

instead, you sit there, your thumb hovering over her contact info. you don't even know what you'd say. what could you possibly say that would fix this?

she has a boyfriend.

maybe it was always going to end this way.

adjusting to college is easier than you thought it would be.

maybe it's because the campus is lively, filled with people moving too fast to notice that you're still figuring things out. maybe it's because your classes keep you busy, giving you little time to dwell on the past. or maybe—maybe it's because of minjeong.

the scholarship brought you here, placing you among a team of insanely talented people. it's intimidating at first, walking into a room full of names you've only heard in passing, people who are already settled, already familiar with one another.

and then there's minjeong.

she’s quiet, reserved in a way that makes you curious. she doesn’t try to take up space like some of the others do—like yizuho, who talks with her hands and fills silences effortlessly. or aeri, whose jokes come quick and sharp, making everyone laugh. no, minjeong is different.

she listens more than she speaks. her laughter is soft, sometimes hidden behind her sleeve. but when she does talk, when she meets your gaze across the room, something settles inside you.

like maybe, for the first time in a long time, things are going to be okay.

and they are.

at first, it's hard. you miss home, miss your old job, and miss the familiarity of things. you feel out of place, like a stranger in a strange land. but then—

minjeong finds you.

at first, it's small things.

you're leaving class when you see her sitting on a bench outside, headphones in, scribbling furiously in a notebook. you stop, taking in the scene. she looks peaceful and focused, her brow furrowed as she writes. and without thinking, you step closer, leaning down to read over her shoulder.

"hey."

her voice startles you. she's looking up at you, her head tilted, a slight smile on her face. "do i know you?"

your face heats. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to bother you."

she chuckles. "i'm kidding. what's up?"

"i just…" you trail off, your cheeks growing warmer. "i was just wondering what you were working on."

"oh." she glances down at her notebook, biting her lip. "just lyrics, nothing serious."

"can i hear them?"

her gaze flicks back to you. there's something in her eyes, a question, but she nods anyway.

and as you sit next to her on that bench, listening to her softly sing the words she's written, you feel it—a spark of something.

it grows.

mall conversations before practice, eating lunch at the same table when no one else is around. but then those casual conversations stretch longer. lunches turn into late-night talks in the dorm hallway, legs stretched out, backs against the cold wall, whispering so you don’t wake anyone up.

somewhere along the way, she becomes a constant.

you find yourself waiting for her after class just because. she leaves a seat open for you in the dining hall without asking. she steals bites of your food, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

it’s easy with her.

no games. no uncertainty. no aching question of, does she feel the same? lingering in the air like a weight on your chest.

you don’t even realize how much time you spend together until one of the others—yizuho—teases you about it.

"you two are like an old married couple," she says one day, nudging minjeong’s shoulder.

minjeong just rolls her eyes, but there’s a faint flush on her cheeks.

and you—well. you pretend not to think too hard about it.

one night, while eating together in your dorm room, the conversation drifts to relationships.

minjeong is lying on your bed, staring up at the ceiling while you sit cross-legged on the floor, picking at your food.

“what about you?” you ask, nudging her foot lightly.

she tilts her head to look at you. “what about me?”

“your love life.”

she hums, considering. “i have a boyfriend.”

something sharp twists in your stomach.

it shouldn’t.

but it does.

“oh,” you say, keeping your voice neutral. “that’s cool.”

she doesn’t elaborate, and you don’t ask any more questions.

but that weird feeling stays.

weeks pass, and things remain the same. or at least, they’re supposed to.

but you can’t stop thinking about it.

not in a jealous way—because that would be stupid, right? you don’t like her like that. you can’t like her like that. you don't do jealousy, especially not when she's not even yours to begin with. but there's something about her relationship with this guy, whoever he is, that bothers you.

maybe it's because she never talks about him.

maybe it's because this whole thing feels oddly similar to what happened with—

no.

it's not the same.

minjeong isn't like her.

you just can't figure out why you feel so uneasy about this.

one night, you bring it up again, casually, like it’s just another question. “so… how’s your boyfriend?”

minjeong hesitates.

and that’s the first sign that something’s off.

she exhales softly, pushing a hand through her hair. “if i tell you, can you not ask any more questions?”

you blink. “uh. sure?”

she sits up, meeting your gaze. “i don’t actually have a boyfriend.”

you frown. “what?”

“i just say that so people don’t try to date me.” she shrugs, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “it makes things easier.”

you don’t know what to say.

because on one hand, you’re relieved.

and on the other—

you don’t even know why you’re relieved.

you don't understand the feeling settling in your chest, the urge to reach out and take her hand. because what does it matter if she's single? it's not like you're interested. right?

one afternoon, the two of you are walking around campus when it starts to rain.

at first, you're both laughing, caught off guard by the sudden downpour. but then minjeong reaches out, her fingers curling around yours, and suddenly—you can't breathe.

she tugs on your hand, her smile bright. "come on. we can wait it out under those trees."

you nod, letting her pull you along.

the trees are large, their branches heavy with leaves, providing enough shelter from the rain. minjeong releases your hand, sitting down in the grass, and you follow suit.

there's a beat of silence.

"you're quiet," she says, nudging your knee with hers. "something wrong?"

you shake your head, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing. "no, i'm just… tired."

"oh." she studies you, her brow furrowed. "well, if there's anything—"

"i'm fine, min." you offer her a small smile, hoping it's enough. "thanks."

she hesitates, and for a moment, you think she's going to push. but then she sighs, leaning back on her hands. "if you say so."

and that's the thing.

she gets you.

she knows when to push and when to back off. she knows what you need without you having to ask. she knows how to make you smile, how to make you laugh, and how to make you forget about everything else.

forget about…jimin.

it’s been months since you last heard from jimin.

you weren’t expecting to, not really. the last time you saw her, things ended in a way that felt unfinished—like a story that cut off mid-sentence.

but then, out of nowhere, a message pops up on your phone.

can you visit during spring break? they still giive you those, right?

you stare at it for too long.

you shouldn’t go.

you should ignore it.

but you don’t.

instead, you agree, telling yourself it won't be weird.

it's just a visit.

how bad could it be?

jimin’s apartment is the same as you remember—warm, inviting, smelling faintly of vanilla and something you can’t place.

she looks the same, too.

and that’s the problem.

because she’s standing there, smiling at you like no time has passed, like she didn’t completely wreck you before you left.

“wow,” she says, closing the door behind you. “you look good.”

your chest tightens. “you too.”

dinner is weirdly intimate.

soft music plays in the background. the lights are dimmed just enough to feel cozy. the food is homemade, and she remembers all your favorites.

you talk about old memories, about late-night walks and dumb jokes, about the times when everything was simpler.

and then—

then she’s looking at you like that.

like she used to.

like she never stopped.

and suddenly, you’re too close.

her fingers brush yours, lingering. your breath catches.

the space between you shrinks, and before you can think, before you can remind yourself why this is a bad idea—

she kisses you.

and for a second, you let her.

for a second, you forget about everything else.

but then—

reality crashes back.

she still has a boyfriend.

you pull away.

“i can’t do this.” your voice is barely above a whisper, strained.

she blinks, like she just realized what happened. “i—”

you shake your head, stepping back. “i have to go.”

you don’t wait for her to respond.

you just leave.

that night, you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, guilt gnawing at your chest.

not because of jimin.

but because of minjeong.

as spring break ends and you return to campus, you find yourself spending more time with minjeong.

she invites you to her favorite places. she shows you all her secret spots, her favorite coffee shop, and the best bookstore downtown.

it's nice.

easy.

fun.

the tension is gone.

and it stays gone.

until the day she kisses you.

it's not planned.

in fact, it's the last thing you expect.

the two of you are in your dorm, finishing up a project, and the mood is light. she's sitting next to you, close enough that her shoulder brushes yours as she reaches over to show you something on the laptop screen.

her breath fans across your neck, and without thinking, you turn to look at her.

and that's when it happens.

she freezes, her eyes widening.

a beat of silence.

you hold her gaze, daring her to make a move.

she does.

it's a soft kiss, hesitant. her lips barely graze yours, and for a moment, you think that's it.

but then she's kissing you again, and this time it's different.

this time it's deeper.

and before you can stop yourself, you're kissing her back.

her fingers slide into your hair, tugging lightly, and you lose track of everything else.

you and minjeong spend more time together.

of course, the two of you were always close, but now there's a new element. a new layer to the dynamic that wasn't there before.

you still hang out with the rest of the group, still laugh and talk and joke around, but when it's just the two of you…

there's something else.

something different.

something electric.

you fall into a routine.

you wake up, get ready for class, and meet her in the dining hall for breakfast. you text throughout the day, sharing stupid memes or random thoughts. sometimes, you sit next to her in class, stealing glances and hiding smiles. after, you grab lunch and walk around campus, talking about anything and everything. then, after dinner, you go to your dorm and watch a movie or play video games until you can't keep your eyes open anymore.

and at night, when it's dark, and the world is quiet, and it feels like nothing else matters—

you kiss her.

sometimes it's soft, just a gentle press of lips.

other times, it's heated, fueled by want and need and something deeper.

you never talk about it.

you don't have to.

it just works.

but then, one night, after a late-night make-out session, you're lying there, breathing heavily, and your phone rings—

jimin.

you hesitate.

should you answer?

no, of course not.

but part of you wants to. part of you misses her, even after everything. and the rational part of you knows that if you don't answer, it'll just be harder later. so, with a sigh, you sit up, accepting the call.

"hey."

"hi." her voice is soft, tentative. "how are you?"

"fine. busy." you shift, running a hand through your hair. "what's up?"

she's silent for a moment.

and then, carefully—

"i know it's been a while since we last spoke."

you swallow, the memory of her lips on yours, her hands in your hair, her skin pressed against yours—it comes rushing back. "yeah."

"and i just wanted to say i'm sorry."

you exhale. "for what?"

"for being an asshole."

a soft chuckle escapes your lips.

"and i'm sorry for kissing you," she continues. "i know it was selfish."

you pause.

it's not what you were expecting.

"it's okay," you finally say.

"really?"

"yeah. it's…it's fine. it's in the past."

there's a long pause.

"are we okay?" she asks.

your throat tightens.

is it too soon?

maybe.

but maybe not.

"yeah," you say. "we're okay."

"promise?"

you nod, even though she can't see it. "promise."

and that's the thing about promises.

you can't break them.

especially when you're the one who made them.

"so…before you left. i actually wanted to tell you something."

you adjust the phone closer to your ear, curiosity getting the better of you. "yeah?"

"i'm coming to your university."

what?

"what?"

"i put in my application a while ago, and i just got in."

you don't know how to feel. on one hand, this is what you would've wanted. wanted. but now…

you don't know what it means.

for you.

for minjeong.

for the two of you.

your heart stops. "i—wow. that's great."

"i know it's sudden, but i didn't want to tell you until i knew for sure." she pauses, taking a breath. "i missed you, you know?"

you don't know how to respond.

"anyway, i should go." there's a smile in her voice. "but i'll see you soon."

"right."

the call ends.

you stare at the phone.

what just happened?

minjeong finds you in the dining hall.

you're sitting at your usual table, picking at your food, your mind still racing.

she slides into the seat next to you, nudging your shoulder with hers. "hey. you okay?"

"fine."

"you sure? you seem a little…off."

"it's nothing."

"mm-hmm." she takes a bite of her food, watching you carefully. "if you say so."

you try to shake it off.

you try to forget about it.

but the whole time, you're wondering.

when will she get here?

will it be awkward?

will she act like nothing happened?

will she expect things to go back to how they were before?

will she expect you to wait for her?

minjeong distracts you.

she knows something's up, but she doesn't ask. instead, she shows up with snacks, forces you to play video games with her, and distracts you with kisses. and it works.

and then—just when things feel solid again, just when you think this might actually be something—

jimin shows up.

you don’t see her at first.

you’re too caught up in minjeong.

it’s late, and you’re outside, sitting on the campus benches, laughing about something dumb. the kind of laugh that makes your stomach hurt, the kind of laugh that you only do around people you really like. and you are—you like minjeong. a lot.

minjeong wipes at her eyes, still smiling. “i can’t believe you actually—”

she stops.

her expression shifts.

you turn.

and there, standing a few feet away—

jimin.

your heart stops.

minjeong stiffens next to you, her smile fading.

the air between you is thick with tension.

no one says anything.

you don't know how long you sit there, staring at her, your mind racing. you don't know what to say. how to explain. how to fix this.

you feel like the world has turned upside down, like the ground is shifting under your feet. you look at her, and all you can think about is that night. her hands in your hair. her lips on yours. the way she felt, pressed against you, soft and warm and—

minjeong breaks the silence.

and that's when you notice.

jimin's and minjeong’s eyes are locked. they're not worried about you. they don't care that you're there or that you're watching. they don't even acknowledge you. they just stare at each other.

you frown. "do you two know each other?"

neither of them answers.

you glance between them, your stomach twisting. "what's going on?"

minjeong shakes her head, tearing her gaze away.

"y/n…this is my…"

the words die on her lips.

your heart stops. "your what?"

"my girlfriend."

for a moment, you swear time stops.

you look at her, waiting for the punchline, for some sort of sign that this is a joke. but she doesn't smile, doesn't laugh, doesn't even blink.

like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

and then, slowly, it dawns on you.

she never had a boyfriend.

she lied.

because this whole time—

it was her.

jimin.

[hugheshischier4313]

YOU MISS HIM DON'T YOU | Q. HUGHES

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Quinn Hughes x fem!reader 

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | Emotional cheating (not on Quinn),  angst, fluff, oblivious!reader and Quinn, soft!Quinn, neighbors-to-lovers, reader x OC (Andrew, reader's boyfriend), alcohol, flirting. 

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Months into your friendship with Quinn the two of you finally admit to what's been there all along. 

 🎧 Playlist | 📷 Pinterest Board

Based on a scene in Season 3 of Desperate Housewives (No spoilers in the writing. Bolded words are quoted from the show): “Don't tell me nothing happened. We’ve been fighting over this all week. You miss him, don't you?”

𝗪/𝗖 | 6.8K

𝗔/𝗡 | hi lovelies, thank you for being patient with me for the full fic of this idea. The lines indicate time jumps, they jump back and forth to different scenarios of reader and Quinn through the time they have spent together. I absolutely love these two and this idea and I couldn't find a perfect ending. I rewrote multiple endings and ultimately decided to just make a part two when I finally figure it out. Hope you enjoy, love ya!

It had been a wonderful night, the wine glass in your hand still full, the bottle sitting on the coffee table. The random episode of Bob's Burgers in the background forgotten, adding nothing more than a soft glow to the room. As you sat there listening to Quinn talk about his summer back in Michigan, you found yourself examining him. The way his eyes roam the room as he speaks, the smiles before he lets out a laugh and the way his hands run through his hair occasionally.

"You should have visited, even for just a weekend. You would have thought this was way more entertaining if you were there." Quinn teased as he finished his story. You pushed down the feeling of guilt as you smiled back at him, poking a finger into his shoulder. "I wouldn't have let you live it down if I had been there. So it's probably for the best," You teased back, but the truth was you had wanted to visit Quinn over the off-season, but when the time came, life had another plan.

_________________________________

"You should come down for the week. The sunrise and sunset alone would make the trip worth it. Imagine spending your week off by the lake, a beautiful sky for you to take pictures of. I can send you a ticket, just say the word." As the smile crept onto your face, so did the slightest tinge of pink. You had been putting away groceries when your AirPods had read the message out loud. Quinn had a habit of making fun of your love for the sky. Always calling you out, shrieking, 'The sky is so pretty' like you had repeatedly done (in a terrible attempt to match your voice). You swear you could hear it through the text despite him being over 2,000 miles apart. 

When Andrew's call came through, you found your phone and typed the text about sending it. "Y/N! I got it, I got the promotion!" His voice came booming out, and the excitement was evident in his voice. "Congratulations, Andrew!" you reciprocated his excitement. "And what better time than before you have a week off. I was thinking of going away for the week, maybe Banff? I'll rent us the cabin we had when we went last time." He kept ranting, too excited to keep anything in, but his voice was drowned out by the thought of Quinn. 

"I have to go, but I'll send you the flight information later tonight. I can't wait to see you." Andrews's voice didn't falter, almost like he was on autopilot, just rambling what he knew to say. They exchanged their quick goodbyes before he hung up. 

As if to taunt you, the next sound into your ear was' NEW MESSAGE FROM QUINN 'Or even just for the weekend if you have other plans for your week off.' As you looked back down at the phone and saw the unset message,  'A whole week of sunset pictures? Count me in Q'; the thought of deleting it weighed heavily on you. 

The truth was you had truly missed Quinn this summer. You had moved to Vancouver for grad school in the fall, and as luck would have it, Quinn lived in the apartment next to you. In the past 10 months, you had known each other; the only time you hadn't seen each other was when he had away games. And even then, when he returned, he made it up to you by devoting time to be with you. He bought you a postcard from all the cities he played in, and you had them displayed on your fridge. He signed all of them after the few glasses of wine you shared after one of his longer roadies.

You had (in your tipsy state) jokingly told him to sign one so you could sell them if he ever decided to be a jerk to you. And as he did, you knew you could never sell them; they meant too much to you. He had made a joke about writing nonsense on them to lower the value if you tried. Over the off-season, you found yourself religiously turning them over to look at his little notes, his penmanship holding inside jokes that you held dear to your heart.

As you stood there staring at the postcards on your fridge, thinking of the brunette, you couldn't help but feel the guilt in your chest. The nagging thought that your friendship with Quinn may not be as platonic as the two of you acted.

Why were you standing there thinking of another man when you were just on the phone with your boyfriend? You hadn't and would never cheat on Andrew, but the world seemed to disappear when you were with Quinn. Time slipped by faster, and you longed to sit on a couch with him again.

And at that moment, it had become apparent that you no longer had a choice; you had to choose between the two men, Andrew or Quinn? But then again, it wasn't really a choice between the men; it was a choice between right and wrong.

'Sorry Quinn, I can't this week. Take lots of pictures for me. Can't wait to see them when you're back.' Send. It was vague, and you knew he could send them to you whenever, but you also knew that, at least for this week, he couldn't be your primary focus. You needed to focus on your partner and his accomplishments.

_________________________________

As you had sat in a surprisingly unpopulated section of the airport for a Friday night, you haphazardly skipped through Instagram stories until you were faced with Quinn's private story of him on the boat with his friends. You had no reason, or right, to be this upset, but as you looked at the sunset on the picture's horizon, you couldn't stop yourself from hitting the call button. 

The phone barely rang once before you heard his voice, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "Hey, I was j-" His voice was laced with exhaustion as if whatever physical activity he was doing was still fresh. And you found yourself more clam than you had been in days. Oh, how you had missed his voice.

"Are you upset with me?" The words were rushed and tumbled out before you could comprehend the repercussions. You knew that now was not the time to be having this discussion. You were sitting in the corner seats at the airport, waiting for your plane to begin boarding. But it had been two days since that last message you sent, and you had heard nothing from Quinn.

You had been a little hurt when you spent all of Thursday waiting for a response from the brunette. He had never taken more than a few hours to respond to you, which is why you had given him the benefit of the doubt that Wednesday night after you sent the last message. But now that you had spent the entirety of your workday contemplating writing a new message, you were upset, and the Insta story had only added fuel to the fire.  

"No, of course not. Why?" His voice was genuine and calm, a nice contrast to the loud background on both sides of the phone. You figured he was still on the boat with his friends. "Oh, I just figured you were upset since I haven't heard from you." You felt stupid for calling and continuing to talk despite it being obvious he wasn't alone. "But I'll let you go; sorry for calling." you hit the red button before you had time to overthink. Your voice had become weak, and you hated that you were taking time away from him and the time he had to spend with his friends and family.

You had the overwhelming feeling to cry, but you didn't know if it was because of guilt for Andrew or Quinn or because any doubts you had that Quinn was mad at you had disappeared. NEW MESSAGE FROM QUINN: 'Give me 10 minutes, I'll call you back'. The message held an inevitable dominance over it; there was no question that it was a conversation that had to happen, and it had to happen now. 

_________________________________

Quinn had known about your boyfriend from the very beginning. He had seen you together, bringing boxes to the apartment beside his, and noticed you immediately. He wished he could say it had all been innocent, but the first thing he saw was how your legs looked in the tennis skirt you had been wearing. You bent down to pick up a fallen pillow as he exited his car in the parking garage. His eyes lingered on you, and he forced himself to turn away before you noticed. He swore he would offer to help you before he met eyes with Andrew as he stepped out of the parking garage elevator.

"I didn't mean to; it just happened. You were bent over, in a skirt, right outside my car; it was hard to look away when I didn't expect you to be there." Quinn had a slight pink tone to his features right now, and you were smiling, trying to suppress a laugh. You stood in the kitchen, pouring the margaritas into your cups.

"You mean the skirt I'm wearing right now? Is that why you mentioned it? Quinn, you could have kept that secret forever. I mean, you couldn't waterboard that information out of me." You were always more giggly when drinking, which was contagious to Quinn. "But since you didn't, I'm gonna use this against you for the foreseeable future."  The laugh left you when you got back to Quinn's couch. "I'll try not to make any sudden movements that may catch you off guard," you teased as you stood before him and handed him his drink.

"It's not funny; I've felt bad about this for months." he tried to be serious, but the smile never left his face. As you nodded with a smirk on your lip, you turned from him after he grabbed the glass, "Y/N, I'm serious." He wasn't; he could never stay upset with you, even in a joking manner. 

"I guess I'll just go back to my apartment then; I don't want to bring back any of your past shame." your body once again turned towards him as you leaned down over to hug him, "Bye, Hughes, I'll make sure to only wear this when you're out of town." He let out a sarcastic 'ha.' "You don't have to leave; I can control myself. I promise." he rolled his eyes and slowly got up to stop you.

"I don't know; I think the only logical answer is to wear your Drew sweats." You had pivoted and ran to his room before he could reply. You had bugged him countless times to try them on over the past months; you had just wanted to see if they were worth the hype because the black sweats had been sold out forever (and maybe, subconsciously, because of your past love for Justin Bieber). And every time he said no, you took this as your opportunity to try them and bug him simultaneously.

Being in Quinn's room was familiar to you. You had spent most days at one of the two apartments, and sometimes that meant laying in his bed watching TV after he had just returned from a string of away games or after a challenging game or practice. You had worn his clothes before, too; it was always in a platonic way, the first time you had locked yourself out after being out on a run when it started raining. You lost your key on the run, and the concierge was gone for the night. You had also spent the night; he let you sleep in his bed and took the couch. 

As you ran into the room, you closed the door behind you and walked into the closet, closing that door, too. You had found the sweats and slowly walked out of the closet. There was no sight of Quinn, and the bedroom door was still closed. You walked towards the door, sweats in your hand, as you called out to him, "Q? Are you -" But you were cut off as he tackled you onto the bed next to you.

The two of you lay on the bed laughing before turning to face each other. The laughter died down, and you were smiling and looking at each other. The two of you lay there for a while, not saying anything until you broke the silence, "Your eyes are a different color every time I see you, but today I can see every shade in them." You don't know why you needed to share your observation with him, but it felt right. "You cut your hair." He reached out to tuck a strand behind your ear and play with the end of another. His voice had been so him, soft yet dominant. It was true; you had gotten a slight trim the day before and a few longer layers at the bottom of your hair, a small and simple detail that could have been missed. In fact, he was the only person to notice; none of your classmates or even Andrew, although over Facetime, had noticed. 

The room felt heavy as you looked from his hand in your hair to his eyes again, stopping to look at his lips for a second. And when you reached his gaze, it was unreadable. "I -" A phone began to ring as Quinn was about to speak. You could see a shift in his demeanour as you continued to look at him. He got up to find the cause of the sound. "It's your phone." He walked it over to you before heading out to the living room again. The phone illuminated ANDREW CALLING.

You looked towards the empty doorway as you brought the phone up to your ear. "Hey you," your playful voice sounded forced, and the smile on your lips was even more so. "Hey, I have a surprise for you. The notification said it was in the lobby." This shocked you, not only because it was a surprise but because Andrew was never one for small gestures. It was always something big like him ordering 4 dozen roses to your desk after your fourth date. But he had never just sent you or given you something randomly.

Andrew could be a sweet guy; you worked together before he asked you to have dinner with him. You knew you were moving and had no intention of starting anything serious before moving to Vancouver, but he had been so persistent, and it felt nice to have a distraction with all the craziness of moving. But living in different provinces has brought no comfort to either of you. It felt like pen pals most of the time. You would call him a few times a week and talk for an hour before he had to go. There had been a few times where you could have sworn you heard someone else there, but the times you mentioned it, it felt like the fight had been more trouble than the issue itself.

And maybe subconsciously, you felt like a hypocrite. Your relationship with Quinn was platonic, but the number of times you were confused as a couple in public could be seen another way. In fact, you hated to admit it, but it felt like you communicated more with Quinn when he was away than with your boyfriend. 

"There's something for me in the lobby of my apartment complex? Andrew, what did you do? It's 7pm?" As you started talking, Quinn walked into view, bringing your drinks and extending to you. "It's a surprise; you should go get it now; I'm assuming it's just on the concierge desk based on the picture." You stared up at Quinn as you listened to Andrew, "Okay, I'll be down in a minute, and I'll call you back once I have it." The phone call was quickly over. 

"What did you order?" Quinn asked with a smile, used to all the packages you've received. A few that had been too heavy for you to carry on your own that Quinn had taken himself. Even when they hadn't been too heavy, he would carry them for you if he was there. "I'm not sure, Andrew sent it to me." You could have sworn there was a look on his face that was gone as quickly as it appeared. "You want me to go with you in case you need help?" there was no hesitation in your quick reply of 'yes.'

As the two of you walked down the hall, you were overly aware of the distance between you. It was no different than it had been in the past, but there was a particular charge. The words shared and unshared in the bedroom hung heavy. "So I never got to even put the sweats on," you joked while waiting in front of the elevator. "You can borrow them when we get back up if you want," his answer made your breath hitch. He had never let you try them on, much less borrow them.

He looked at you, letting you walk into the elevator first. The ride down was quick and quiet, but how you looked at each other made everything race faster. Your heartbeat quickened as you saw his slight deviation towards your lips before making their way back up. "Quinn," your voice came out as a low plea; whether it was to continue or to stop was uncertain. He stepped closer to you as the two of you stood in silence for a brief moment before the doors opened. As you stepped out, your heart felt heavy.

As you made your way towards the front desk, you saw the back of a man at the desk, but when you heard the voice,  it made you freeze. Andrew he was in your lobby waiting for you, Quinn failed to notice your pause and ran into you. However, before you could tip forward, Quinn had steadied you with a hand on your arm and waist. Andrew called out when he turned around. 

"Andrew! What are you doing here?" You didn't miss the look he gave the sight of the two of you or how his gaze only lingered on Quinn's hand on your waist as he walked closer. You unhooked yourself from Quinn to hug Andrew. The hug was stiff; he held himself higher, and his head hadn't moved from the position it had been in before. You figured he was still looking at Quinn. 

"I wanted to surprise you; we settled a case earlier than expected, so I took a few days off." You had pulled yourself to his side, a view of both him and Quinn. They kept looking towards each other, completely ignoring you. "Well, Andrew, this is my friend I always tell you about, Quinn. He introduced himself the day I moved in, remember? He lives next door to me." Andrew smiled down at you as you continued. "Quinn, you remember Andrew." Quinn looked from you to Andrew before extending his hand. "Good to see you again, man." Andrew hesitated before shaking his hand. 

There was a quick silence before Quinn grabbed his phone from his pocket and looked at the screen, excusing himself, "I have to make a phone call; I'll see you around," but before he could walk off, you gave him a side hug goodbye. You had done it a thousand times before, and feeling like you couldn't because Andrew was there didn't feel like a good sign, so you did it anyway. "I'll text you," you quietly said as you let go.

The next few days had been uneventful, showing Andrew around Vancouver. The hallway had felt unusually empty each time you passed, hoping to run into Quinn. A string of away games was starting that Monday, and when you came back from dropping off Andrew at the airport on Sunday night, you noticed the bag sitting in front of your apartment door. 

The black sweats were inside with a note, 'I'll pick them up when I'm back. Enjoy :). ~ Q" He never asked for them back

_________________________________

"Hey," his voice was clear despite the pixilated quality of his Facetime call. He was wearing a white T-shirt, his hair was wet, and he had a look on his face you had never seen. "Hey Q," your pulse felt overwhelming as if anyone who looked at you could see it throbbing against your neck. "Are you having a good time back home?" It was a buffer; you didn't know what Quinn wanted to say, and judging by the look on his face, you weren't sure you wanted to.

"Andrew called me." His voice was blunt, direct to the point, despite the few seconds he stared at you, hesitating to continue. "He asked if I was sleeping with you." His eyes held yours while the rest of his face had no expression. "What?" The nervous laughter that filled the air around you was nothing more than a way to suppress the hurt and anger of this new confession.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry Quinn. I don't know why he's been so paranoid lately. It seems like he misinterprets everything I mention to him as something else." For the last two months, you had known that Andrew suspected your friendship with Quinn was something more. He had brought it up the last time he was in Vancouver and again over the phone a few weeks ago (although it had been in retaliation to the question you had asked him about the girl with him in a video his friend had posted on their story). 

"Did he misinterpret it, or did he just see what is obvious that you and I can't admit?" The question was loaded with truths that weren't meant to come out. The look that the two of you shared through the screen had only confirmed it. In a split second, months of ignorance had led to a confession when the two of you were thousands of miles apart.

His breathing was heavy; you could hear it through the phone; he had a look on his face that closely resembled his look when his team lost in the Playoffs. It was the look you saw in the mirror this morning when you had not heard from him. It was the split-second look he had in the lobby the day Andrew surprised you.

Everything playing in your head; all the nights he would knock at your apartment after a game with a box of food, the way you would pack him an 'after-game snack' consisting of oranges, a granola bar and a fruit snack (which he teased you about until you mentioned it was like they did in little leagues), the way your breath hitches every time he gets shoved or falls. 

All the times, the two of you had gone for a drive when life felt too heavy, and you shared secrets you had never told anyone before. The way he took off your makeup when you had gone out one night or how he knows your coffee order for every cafe you go to. Quinn and you had been in the in-between since you first hung out. 

"I mean, how long are we going to pretend like nothing is happening?" His voice was calm and demanding, with a hint of subdued anger or annoyance you hadn't picked up. "Quinn, I -" You were at a loss for words; nothing could genuinely capture how Quinn had made you feel. 

You knew you were safe with Quinn around, not only in a physical sense but emotionally. The way he made you feel heard and seen. The two of you were floating in two separate worlds, but the weight that engulfed you was the same. You understood the complication of pressure and leadership; you understood needing to be the most prominent presence in the room, even if you weren't the loudest. You understood the pressure of wanting, no needing, to be the best for everyone else even if it tore you apart. 

It was all those things and more that drove you together, the ability to soothe the ache the buildup of burden had left sacred on the two of you. When you felt a crushing weight on you, the only thing that could alleviate it was being around the man who had quickly become your best friend. Immediately, he knew whether you needed to just sit and cry while he comforted you or go for a drive so you could yell out lyrics or if you needed him to just talk about mundane things.

And you do the same; you knew by the way he left the ice, by the way, he knocked on the door, by the way, he walked down the hallway toward your apartments. You knew when to go over to him so he could catch the recaps, and you knew when to invite him to yours to force him to ignore the criticism. You knew that even after a winning streak or after a goal, he needed comfort, understanding the overwhelming feeling of the slightest reprieve until the next game.

And the honest truth was that you had pushed back any romantic feelings because you knew without a doubt he was your person. You had never been one for friendship with men, and when your friends asked about what you could have in common with a professional hockey player, you never knew what to tell them. Because from every book, movie, series and scenario you knew, as cliche as it was, the only quote that could describe what the two of you shared was, 'Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.' 

"Y/N, please." His voice was barely above a whisper, a plea to say anything. "It doesn't have to change anything. I just need to know; I didn't mean to hurt you; I tried to give you space. I've tried to respect your relationship." He had been ignoring you to avoid hurting your relationship, and in the process, the two of you were the only ones who were hurt. "Quinn." There was only one way you could describe it: "You consume me." Despite the tears that fell, you stared at him through the phone, wishing he was there with you, wishing your plane was going to Michigan. 

"Now boarding flight-" The announcement couldn't have come at a worse time; there was so much to say, and an airport right before boarding was not ideal. "That's my flight." You wiped your tears as you stared at the man on the screen. "Y/N, I'm sorry for bringing this up now; it's not my best moment." he was trying to cheer you up; he wanted you to know that everything would be okay. "Quinn, I don't know what to do," your voice was a quiet plea to understand what was to come.

"Given everything that was said and that we're in two different countries right now, I think we should take some time to digest. I know you're spending time with him, and I don't want you to feel overwhelmed. I think we should take the next week or two." your heart was breaking, but your mind knew that was the best option. And for the first time since the beginning of the conversation, you thought of Andrew, and the slight tinge of annoyance arose again. 

Quinn must have noticed because he was quick to interject his following comment with the most sincere look, "But before you go, I just need you to know that you consume me too." He had his signature half smile as he continued, "You are the most amazing woman I have ever met. I think about you constantly. I think about you when I look at the sky, when I'm practicing with my brothers, when I go out with friends and when I lie in bed. I watch for you in the crowd during warm-ups. You've become one of my favourite people so quickly, and I'm so glad of all the apartments in the city, or even just in the building; you moved into the one next to mine." 

You smiled as the tears fell; if there had ever been any doubt, you now knew for sure that Quinn was your person. "I'll be forever grateful that the universe brought me to you too." And with a quick goodbye and promise to reach out in two weeks, you were in your seat on the plane. 

Your mind racing with thoughts of Quinn and the revelations that had come to light and then again to Andrew. You didn't know why, but your annoyance was morphing into slight anger, the idea that he had called Quinn and accused him of sleeping with you. What annoyed you more was that he had done that and hadn't mentioned it to you. He hadn't mentioned the idea of your friendship with Quinn being something more since that one phone call a little over a month ago. 

You sat with that feeling for the rest of the flight. 

_________________________________

"Okay, fine, you are mad at me! But name one thing that I have done to deserve it!" Andrew was standing on the opposite side of the room. His breathing was heavy as he ran a hand through his hair. "You called Quinn." your voice was laced with a hint of sadness and betrayal. The statement was simple and direct but held a meaning that both of you knew would change everything. 

The argument had started with something so small: the two of you walking on eggshells the past few days and your passive-aggressive comments when he mentioned anything related to Vancouver. Over the past few days, you had tried to get Andrew to admit to calling Quinn; he wasn't stupid; he had connected the dots and was simply choosing to ignore it (which infuriated you even more). The days dragged on; waking up and getting ready in silence, spending the day exploring, trying to avoid long conversations at all costs, getting ready for bed with few words and getting into bed facing away from each other. 

Andrew's response had taken a second longer than it should have. His hesitation made it clear that he was surprised by the direct approach, almost as if he hadn't thought you would say anything.  "You're damn right I did, I've seen the messages, the glances, the pictures. What was I supposed to do? Pretend that nothing was going on?" His voice was slightly louder as his eyes narrowed on you. 

"Nothing was going on. He never touched me." you raised your voice, but the words weakened. Your hands were flailing around, trying to emphasize your point.  The tears behind your eyes aching to be let free. It was too much, and you knew the implications of your words. This time, however, Andrew didn't hesitate to answer; his reply, even louder than before, came out the second you were done talking. "And I wasn't gonna sit around and wait until he did."  

The two of you stood there staring at each other, chests heaving, eyes full of emotion. You sat on the counter stool beside you before looking away from Andrew and placing your head in your hands, elbows propped on the counter. You heard his footsteps getting closer, and soon, Andrew was pulling out the stool next to you. 

You glanced at him from your peripheral view; he was staring at the kitchen in front of him, a look of contemplation on his face. "Do you have feelings for him, Y/N?" you diverted your eyes back to the counter. The question caught you off guard, "Hmm?" you could feel his eyes on you again, but you couldn't gain the strength to look up. "Do you have feelings for Quinn?" Each word was emphasized by the slight pause he took between them. 

Although you couldn't meet his eyes, you mustered enough courage to look up from your hands towards the kitchen. "I would never cheat on you, you know that." you shook your head as you said it, knowing it wasn't the answer he sought. "That's not what I asked." you wanted to look at him, to tell him he was all you wanted, that there was nothing between you and Quinn, but that wasn't the truth, and all you could do was continue the slight head shake you had started. 

Andrew didn't say anything for a bit, but you could hear the sound of his movement as he repositioned himself on the stool and leaned closer to you. "Did you fall for him?" His voice was softer and more quiet, slightly above a whisper. You tried to speak, but the tears beat you. As the tears left your eyes, you looked towards Andrew. His eyes were glued on the fridge, his expression hurt, and his eyes held a slight gloss. "Oh god," he was avoiding eye contact with you now. 

You stared at him a moment longer, trying to calm down, "Nothing happened." your voice was shakier than it had been all night, and the tone held no conviction. He turned his head slightly, the two of you locking eyes. "Don't tell me nothing happened. We've been fighting over this all week." He turned away before he even finished his sentence. Your tears continued, "You miss him, don't you?" The look on his face had hardened, but his voice remained the same. He knew the answer; it had been evident every time he called you, and you were alone or when he would try to call, only to be met with a text saying you were on the phone but would call him back. 

You kept your eyes on him; the guilt weighed heavy on you. The implication of every choice you had made since the first interaction with Quinn ran through your mind. You couldn't put your thoughts into words or rationalize your feelings. "I'm sorry." It wasn't even a valid answer, but it was all you could think of. Your emotions were running too high, and you needed a breather. He leaned back on the stool and let out a breath, but a few tears trickled down as he did. "Damn" His voice was barely audible; if you hadn't been looking at him or if the room hadn't been so quiet, you would have missed it. 

_________________________________

It hadn't been your intention to end things with Andrew that way. Despite all the issues the two of you shared, you didn't want to hurt him. When you talked everything through the following morning you both knew the relationship had been over longer than either of you cared to admit.  It had been as civil as a breakup could be, and the guilt that had once overwhelmed you started to blur.

As you looked out the plane window and saw Vancouver, you felt the missing pieces of you start to come together. It was strange how life finds a way to bring you exactly where you need to be. Accepting your graduate program at The University of British Columbia led you to a weekend of exploring and apartment hunting in Vancouver. You had found your apartment complex by accident; you had been lost looking for another building when your eyes landed on it. The large winders on every floor practically shoved you into the lobby, and when you applied, only one unit was available for your expected move-in date. It had been a long shot, and somehow you ended up winning. 

You could recall the sound of a car pulling into the attached parking garage as you pulled a box out of your trunk, unintentionally knocking down a pillow in all the commotion. As you bent down to pick it up, you could hear the car door open and close before hearing a few footsteps. They stopped as you located your missing pillow; as you stood back up, you turned to find the stranger but found yourself searching for Andrew after hearing his voice. As you stood there waiting for him to grab another box, you looked towards the elevator and saw the stranger standing there. You couldn't see his face; he was just a blur of brunette hair and a gray outfit as the doors closed, and although you couldn't make out all his facial features, you could have sworn you saw him give you a smile before the doors closed completely. And before you even had a chance, Quinn captured your attention. And unbeknownst to you then, you had made a lasting impression on him, too. 

As you stared at the city, music in your ears, in the back of the Uber home, you could see every moment you and Quin shared. Every mundane moment, from knocking on his door in the morning with breakfast bagels and coffee to drunk conversations in the back of a car after a night out celebrating to sitting in either of your living rooms watching a movie with your commentary. It was like watching a montage scene, and it felt freeing because, for the first time, there was the possibility for something more. The feeling of longing had been hidden underneath your guilt, coming hand in hand, and now both were gone, instead replaced with something positive. 

"Miss, you have a package." The voice of your building's concierge brings you back to reality. It was a relatively wide rectangular box; you hadn't ordered anything that would come in a box of that size, which fueled your curiosity even more. "Thank you." You smiled and offered a kind goodbye before walking to the elevator. 

Without hesitation, another image of Quinn flew into your mind as the elevator doors closed. The first time you spoke was in the elevator up to your floor. He smiled, encouraged you to enter the elevator first, and asked if you needed help with your box despite carrying his bag. However,  after declining his offer, he made no other effort to continue the conversation. The two of you casually glanced at each other as the doors closed, waiting for the movement to begin, but when it didn't, you looked over to the right side of the door and laughed slightly. "What floor do you need?" he asked with a slight chuckle. "Sixteenth, please." You returned his chuckle and smiled. You watched as he clicked the sixteenth button but no other. "Are you on the same floor?" You could hear excitement in your voice, but you pushed it down. "Yeah, guess that means we're neighbour neighbours" Once again, that damn smile felt contagious; he felt contagious. 

When you reached your floor, you found yourself walking faster than usual to reach your door. It had only been a week; somehow, everything was completely different yet utterly the same. You walked into the apartment and set the package down on the counter, needing to know what was inside. Opening the lid, you are met with the most beautiful arrangement of your favourite flowers. There were different shades of your favourite colour, layering beautifully on each other, but what caught your eyes was the distinct blue rose in the middle, an envelope sitting directly on top. 

The envelope had your name written on it with the handwriting you had come to memorize. Inside was a postcard from Michigan, "Y/N, I can't get you out of my head. Only two more weeks left before I'm back in Van, and I can't wait to see you again. I found this while I was out, and it reminded me of you.   -Q" You held the card close to you for a second; it had the faintest mix of florals and Quinn's cologne. You looked at the fridge before deciding to keep the note in your room. It felt intimate, something you wanted to keep between you. Something caught your eye when you took the flowers out of the box and into a vase. Inside the envelope was a small plastic bag; you reached for it and found a necklace. 

A delicate chain with a small pendant with a sun and a moon, and when you turned it over, your breathing hitched; there was a small 43 engraved. When you read the note, you assumed the postcard was what he had seen, but it was the necklace. He had seen a necklace encompassing the sun and moon, something you were passionate about, and he had added something personal. The engraving must have been something he did; the probability that it had been done in manufacturing was slim to none, making it all the more special. You put it on and never wanted to take it off. 

You grabbed the postcard off the counter and lifted it closer to your chest before taking a close-up picture from your lips to showcase the necklace and postcard, "I'm thinking about you too. To the longest two weeks that will ever exist. To the sun and the moon and back." And as you hit the send button, you couldn't help but think about what was yet to come.  

_________________________________

[feralforbeanix]

Manfred Von Karma did not burn Phoenix's letters to Miles.

Like, I'm not even saying this to defend Manfred's character (though the fanbase does get a little crazy with what he actually did and didn't do) I'm saying this because that's not canon. I'm not sure it was even possible in canon.

Phoenix didn't write letters to Germany. He didn't know Miles was in Germany, let alone Von Karma's address. He didn't even know who Von Karma was until Edgeworth told him about Manfred in Turnabout Goodbyes.

In the game canon, Miles just stopped showing up to school one day. All Phoenix seemed to know was that he transferred schools suddenly. He didn't know why or where to. Remember, Phoenix didn't even hear about DL-6 until Turnabout Sisters when Maya mentioned her family's involvement.

Even in the anime canon (I haven't watched the anime in a while so I might be off about this) where Phoenix and Miles get a chance to properly say goodbye, Phoenix still doesn't have a direct means of contacting him. His best way of doing so was dedicating a song through the radio using Signal Samurai codenames and hoping Miles would hear it.

Phoenix mentions trying to contact him several times when explaining their relationship to Maya, but this was after finding out Miles was this "Demon Attorney". Miles would have to be at least 20 at this point in time, living back in California with at least a few trials under his belt. With how young he reached success, it's not impossible Miles was living on his own at the time. Even if he wasn't, I doubt Manfred was going through this grown adult's mail.

No, what the game seems to be implying is that Miles ignored Phoenix. (Maya even says, "I guess he didn't want to hear from his old friends.") And I don't think this was out of hatred or anything, I think Miles just wanted to forget his past entirely because even the good memories of his childhood would be bittersweet at best.

And to be honest that makes it even more tragic to me. Why do we need Manfred to intercept their connection when Miles' trauma and guilt complex is already doing that?

I like to think Miles knew Phoenix would be asking questions if he ever responded to those initial attempts at contact. Questions he of course doesn't want to answer because they'd at best open old wounds or at worst risk his childhood friend finding out he might have committed patricide.

I also like to think he knew Phoenix of all people would stubbornly try to find the answers Miles wouldn't willingly give because he literally mentions Phoenix always being "single minded in his work" and "always seeing things through to the end". If anyone was going to press and bring those uncomfortable and painful memories out in the open for the sake of "helping him", it would be Phoenix Wright.

Why do we need Manfred to take away all that complexity and tragedy? That is such a waste!

[acid-ixx]

Now that someone mentioned Connor as a possible love interest I think he will be a good choice. He obviously feels a similar kind of anger at his own father(s) so they could connect thanks to it. And his super hearing and other abilities will make it possible for him to always know when something is wrong with reader. I see reader being in shock that someone wants to be there for them and dismissing any yandere tendencies, toxic traits in favour of keeping Connors attention. Not like they could loose it no matter what they do, Connor is to obsessed and I could see him being dependent on his darling.

a/n: since i am more familiar with the animated series (young justice) for conner kent and i feel your ask is describing his version so i'm basing it off of him! but yes you are so fr in this. i will never not go too far when it comes to rambling, i love long asks hehe.

it was temporarily stated in chapter one that you had your momentary bouts of anger and that in itself already paved its way into conner's heart because of course most would be put off with the rage that he kindles within. you two would really be some sort of match made in heaven— it's like you deeply understand the intensity of his emotion, and you both share that bond nobody could deter; it being anger towards your parent/s and the inability to be accepted or nor noticed/your feelings being invalidated most of the time.

but because of the level of power between you, you being human and him literally being a carbon copy of superman, conner would be incredibly overprotective and possessive of you. and i'm not just implying that he would give anyone within a fifty mile radius a death glare, no, you would literally be glued to his figure all the time.

that means a hand on either your shoulders, your waist, or hips. if you were the shy type, then expect him always holding your hands or wrist. but if you don't mind the weird display of pda, then you'll be lucky enough to have the rights to smother your face in his chest whenever and wherever— sometimes that would even be his go signal to tell anybody off whenever you feel the slightest bit of discomfort.

but other than the advantages of being with him (protective guard dog 24/7), you would pretty much lose every sense of independence nor privacy. which isn't losing much since you already have your mad family on your tail constantly tracking you down and probably a huge bounty on your head— but at least you have your boyfriend with you, right?

with the lack of attention you were given to as a child, one given willingly without the need to ask for is basically a heaven for you. and with his powers? babe, you don't even need to ask for him to take you away to somewhere safer because he could already hear your heartbeats thumping louder and louder.

speaking of superhearing; a way to calm your boyfriend down quickly and efficiently would be laying his head on your chest. you'd probably discover the method later on your relationship, but as much as conner loves to hear your heartbeats from any distance, he loves it all the more when the only barrier that keeps him away from your beating heart would be your skin and your ribcage.

since conner was raised with the lack of physical contact and he's the type to push people away, your physical affection towards him is something he doesn't even know he craves, not until he tastes it for himself.

you wouldn't even feel the need to tell creeps off anymore! because conner is out there intimidating every person who dares to show the slightest bit of romantic intentions towards you.

so really, is it so bad if he wants you all for himself?

you both eventually gain a codependent relationship with each other— but it's not like any of you would leave each other wanting for more, because you both are more than enough for each other.

and conner thinks it's better off if it would only be the two of you in this world.

screw your family.

[lacydollette]

CASUAL , TWO ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ‘casual’ mini series

pairing: fwb!dean x fem!reader

warnings: unrequited love, fwb, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, praise, explicit language, angst, reader feeling used, arguing, dean being a scared lil bitch, nsfw, 18+,

Dean knew he was asking for a lot the moment he hit the call button. He leaned against the creaky wall of the random, rundown motel room he had booked. His mind was racing, though he wasn't really sure why. He just needed a distraction, something to pull him out of the mess inside his head, and you—well, you always knew how to make him feel better.

He'd heard that you were on a case nearby, and now, here he was. Again. Calling you like it was nothing, like your last time together didn't feel... different.

While on the other end you had stared at your phone for what felt like an eternity, your thumb hovering over Dean's name. You knew what he wanted. You always did. It wasn't a mystery why Dean was calling you up out of the blue at 1am.

Your first instinct was to ignore him. You didn't need this—didn't need to be his go-to when he needed an escape. Lately, every time you thought of him, it felt like your heart cracked a little more. And despite his emotional distance you couldn’t help yourself.

"Dean?" You voice crackled through the phone as you picked up the call. "Hey, uh... You still in the area?" he asked, trying to sound casual. You sighed on the other end, and Dean could already feel your hesitation. "Yeah, I'm around.”

"Good. There's this motel a few miles off the highway. Thought maybe you could, I don't know, come ‘round?"

"I don't think I can," you said, your voice softer now, but firm. "I'm busy." Dean frowned, pushing off the wall and pacing. "C'mon, y/n. Just a couple of hours. It's not like we haven't done this before." A sarcastic chuckle left your lips, sounding almost bitter. "Exactly, Dean. We've done this before. Too many times."

"Yeah, but—" Dean started, then stopped, running a hand through his hair. He wasn't sure what the hell he was supposed to say to that. It wasn't like he could argue with you. You both knew what the deal was. Casual, no strings, no messy emotions.

But still, he found himself pushing. "I just need you, okay? For tonight. Just to get out of my head." Dean could feel his heart thudding against his ribcage.

It wasn't supposed to be that complicated.

You wanted to say no. You should say no. You knew that you’d leave feeling emptier than when you came, like you always did, yet the thought of not seeing him at all—that was even worse. You hated it. Hated yourself for it. It was ridiculous, really, how you kept giving in, knowing how things would end.

"Fine," you finally said. "I'll be there."

When you arrived at the motel, the familiar sight of Dean's black Impala parked outside brought a lump to your throat. You’d convinced yourself on the way over that you’d keep your guard up this time, that you wouldn't let him get under your skin.

But the moment you walked into that damn room and saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, all your defenses began to crumble. He stood up, giving you that same tired smile you’d seen a hundred times before. "Hey."

"Hi," you echoed, crossing your arms over your chest, trying not to let your frustration show. You weren’t here to fight—not yet, anyway. But the weight of everything unsaid was suffocating you.

But Dean wasted no time, stepping toward you and pulling you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both urgent and needy. You wanted to push him away, tell him this wasn't what you wanted anymore, but damn it, your body betrayed you. You kissed him back, letting yourself get lost in him for a moment, because it was easier than dealing with the truth.

You two fell back onto the bed, lost in each other like you had countless times before. For a little while, you could forget. You could pretend that this wasn't just about the physical, that maybe, just maybe, there was something more between the two of you. But deep down, you knew better.

Dean’s body pressed more firmly against yours, his chest solid and warm as it met yours, adjusting himself just enough so that he was hovering above you. His tongue pushed gently against your lower lip before slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

You moaned quietly, hands finding his hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck as his hands traveled down your sides, leaving goosebumps all over your body. You could feel his growing erection pressing against you, slowly grinding himself back and forth on your core. The urgency in his movements made you feel wanted, desired, but at the same time you felt empty, just wanting it to be over.

Dean tugged at the waistband of your jeans, pulling them off within a matter of seconds before he freed himself from his own clothes, leaving you both bare. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He mumbled, the words leaving his lips almost unconsciously. Of course he thought that you were stunning, but maybe it meant a lot more to you than he realized.

You inhaled sharply as you felt Dean’s finger teasing your entrance, smirking as he felt how wet you’ve gotten over the course of a few seconds. You surely couldn’t deny the fact that he turned you on.“Soaked already?” He chuckled, making you nod hastily.

Grabbing your hips he secured you onto the mattress, pressing you down gently before he pushed his aching tip past your entrance, a loud moan escaping your lips. Your walls clenched around him almost immediately, making him groan.

“Fuck sweetheart, that tight cunt ‘s sucking me right in.”

You let out another moan, eyes fluttering shut as you felt his cock filling you up to the brim, a perfect fit. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he almost pulled himself out completely before slamming right back in, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

“Hngh..shit—“ you hissed, your nails digging into his back, skin slapping against skin echoing through the motel room. Dean's hand moved to cup your ass, his fingers digging in slightly as he pulled you closer with each thrust, craving every single inch of your body. As he continued to fuck you at a steady pace you felt yourself getting closer, clenching around his thick cock.

Dean was quick to redirect his hand in between your bodys, finding your clit, and circling the sensitive nub to drive you completely over the edge. You could feel your body tensing up, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level. “Dean, I’m gonna—“ you whined out before the band in your stomach snapped, cumming hard all over his cock.

"That's it, baby.” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, not even noticing the little petname that had slipped past his lips. He gave you a few more hard thrusts before letting out a loud groan himself, feeling his dick twitch as he came deep inside of you, painting your walls white with his cum, and leaving both of you breathless.

Dean fell down beside you in the quiet aftermath, the soft glow from the motel's flickering light casting shadows on the walls, staring up at the ceiling like he always did. It was so routine by now that you could almost predict his every move.

But tonight, something felt different. The silence between you was heavier than usual, and you felt a knot forming in your chest. You waited for him to say something, anything, but when he finally spoke, his words cut through you like a knife.

"You’re so good at this stuff. It’s like you were made for it.”

You froze. Made for it? Your heart sank. The casualness of his words, the thoughtless way he dismissed whatever connection you two had, made you feel sick. You sat up quickly, eyes burning with anger and hurt. "That's all I am to you? A fucking hooker?” Dean turned to you, clearly confused. "What? That’s not- Why are you suddenly acting like this?"

Your anger was burning up, but so was your pain. It wasn't just this moment; it was all of it. Everything you’d been holding back for so long, everything you’d swallowed down, was bubbling to the surface. "Why wouldn't I act like this, Dean? Last time we met, we literally had dinner with your brother, and you fucked me in the bathroom like some random slut who’s hopping on anyone’s dick. And now you wonder why I'm bitter?"

Dean blinked, caught off guard. "That was just... it wasn’t—You know how it is with us." He babbled. "No, Dean," you shot back, voice shaking. "I thought I knew how it was. But apparently, I've been fooling myself this whole time. I hate that I let this drag on so long, and now, I hate myself for it."

Dean sat up, running a hand through his hair. This was exactly what he was afraid of. "I thought we were on the same page here, y/n.”

This was just how things were, right? Casual. No complications.

"I'm not just someone you can call when you're bored or need to get out of your head," you continued, voice breaking. "I deserve more than that, and the fact that I've let this go on for so long—it kills me. Because I hate that I've let myself care about someone who clearly doesn't care about me."

Dean's heart sank at your words. He'd always known you were more than just a quick fix for his demons, but hearing it laid out like that? It stung. And for the first time in a long time, he didn't know how to fix this. "y/n...I-" Dean began, his voice soft, almost pleading. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that. I didn't—"

You cut him off, shaking your head as tears welled up in your eyes. "It doesn't matter, Dean. What's done is done. I just... I can't keep doing this. Not like this."

The room fell silent again, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. Dean stared at you, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to wrap his head around what was happening. He wanted to say something, anything to make it right, but the truth was, he didn't know how.

But what he knew was that the thing between you two wasn’t as casual as he pretended it to be, and that scared the shit out of him. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

You stood up, heart pounding in your chest as you began putting on your clothes. You couldn't stay here—not when everything felt so raw, so exposed. Dean watched you, the guilt etched on his face, but he didn't say anything to stop you.

"I need to go," you said quietly, pulling on your jacket and heading for the door. You could feel his eyes on you. "y/n.." Dean called after you, his voice almost too faint to hear.

You paused at the door, your hand resting on the knob, and for a brief second, you thought about turning back, thought about giving him one more chance. But you didn't. Instead, you opened the door and walked out, leaving Dean alone in that empty motel room.

He sat there, staring at the door long after it had closed, the weight of everything he hadn't said pressing down on him like heavy rain. He had no idea if you’d come back. And for the first time, he wasn't sure if he wanted you to. Because you deserved better than what he had to offer.

coming from first hand experience 😁 anyways..

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

tags: 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @angelicjackles @deansbite @figthoughts @deansenvy @chevroletdean @rubyvhs @sugardean @figurantedefilme @cosmicanakin @sammyluvr @nuemanfilms @titsout4nicholas

[celestial-grls]

Ciao Amore - Emily Engstler x fem!reader

summary: You and Emily are on vacation in Italy together. You have a small argument on your first night there, angst ensues... word count: 2.0k a/n: I definetely wanna write a part 2 to this w/ smut...y'all lmk

This could've been the perfect ending to your and Emily's first night in Italy. Except both of you let the exhaustion from traveling and jet lag get to you, which resulted in a couple's quarrel. 

It wouldn't be fair to say you started it—except maybe that's what Emily would've believed when you gave her the wrong directions to the hotel and delayed your check-in time by a whole hour. 

At first, Emily tried to keep her composure as she asked you for confirmation on which way to turn. She scrubbed her right hand down her face and sighed, "Baby, I need you to tell me if I gotta turn left here or up ahead." 

The sun is blinding, and the tiny sun visor in the mini Cooper you guys decided to rent is barely doing anything to block it out. You're hopelessly trying to translate the directions from Italian to English from your phone. Still, you're getting less and less service the farther into the drive you guys get. Since it's quiet, you each thought the Tuscan countryside was the best option for your honeymoon. No one would recognize Emily here, and if they did, they'd be more lowkey than fans elsewhere could be. But with half a tank of gas gone, sweat collecting on the back of your neck, and a headache forming behind your eyes, your patience is wearing thin, too. 

"Umm…I think it's the next left. Yeah, the one up ahead." There isn't anything in your tone that leads Emily to believe you. 

"Are you sure? Because if not, we can't make a U-turn here." 

"Yeah, Em. That's what it says in the directions." 

As it turned out, you guys were supposed to take the first left, not the second, which led you through a tiny town with the narrowest roads you've ever seen. Emily had to drive as slowly as possible, and you tried to warn her about some of the Vespas parked on the side street. 

"Em! You almost scraped that Vespa!" You yelled in exasperation after she avoided the Vespa by half an inch. 

"Baby, relax. I know what I'm doing," she huffs before adding, "unlike some people." 

You know she's just as eager to get to your hotel as you are, so you let the sass slide this time. "Okay. I wanna see you try to read these directions in Italian. Maybe I should drive instead." 

Emily rolls her eyes and scoffs as she drives out of the little town and into wider streets. The directions show that you guys are back where you're supposed to be. "Not if we wanna make it to the hotel in one piece." 

Scrunching your brow, you ask her, "What's that supposed to mean?" You shift closer to your door, taking your elbow off the center console. 

Emily immediately notices your change in body language. She places her hand on your knee, trying to make amends. She glances over at you but stands by what she said. "C'mon, baby. Don't be ridiculous." 

You scoff and start rubbing at your temples. "You know I can drive! It's insulting you don't think I can!" 

Ever since the two of you started dating, it was evident that you would have to navigate each other's stubbornness. For most of your relationship, Emily was the driver, and you were in the passenger seat. You glanced down at the directions on your phone and saw it'd be about another five miles before you reached your hotel. 

"I never said you couldn't drive! You know what I meant, Y/N," Emily's grip tightens against the wheel as you look out the window, not meeting her gaze. 

You annoyedly sniffle and tell her, "Just go straight for another five miles." 

Both of you knew it would be the longest five miles you've ever had to drive together. 

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When you both arrived at the hotel, you could finally breathe outside the Mini Cooper's confines. The sun was starting to go down as you guys checked in, and neither of you said a word to each other. As you began to take the dress you would wear out of your suitcase, you couldn't stop angrily unzipping the sides. Emily was stomping around the room in search of her slippers. When you kicked them in front of her, she pouted at you and flopped on the bed. 

You both knew you could behave like little kids when you got into little spats. It was a relief to finally be out of the heat, stop the stressful shuffling that comes with traveling, and finally get to spend time alone together. 

Emily sunk into the bed, shutting her eyes and harshly rubbing at them. When she opened them and turned onto her side, she watched you slide open the balcony door to lean against the railing, eyes trailing the Italian countryside lit up at night. She watched you tie your robe tighter around yourself, knowing you were probably about to step into the shower, 

She thought about opening the door and apologizing, but she figured you each needed some moments alone. She felt so sullen, watching you from behind the door. This was supposed to be a time you could spend together, finally away from the craziness and pressure back home. 

The hotel was beautiful. Outside of the balcony, it looked like the streets were lit up with millions of tiny string lights, and through the cracked door, you could hear the chatter of other couples having an early dinner. Emily sank further into the plush hotel bed before grabbing her book and busying herself. 

You open the door and come back inside, barely glancing at Emily. Emily peers over the top of the book and watches you disappear behind the bathroom door. 

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You came out of the bathroom with damp hair and your face scrubbed clean of the makeup you had on before. Emily was still reading on the bed when you decided to sit next to her. She closed her book, marking the page before meeting your gaze. 

You tuck a stray hair behind your ear, getting water drips on Emily's arm. You look down at your robe tie before saying, "We should probably get dinner." 

Emily sits in bed, unsure whether she's in your good graces again. She tests the waters by tucking your other strand behind your ear. When you let her, she feels relieved. "Sure, baby. Let's get dinner." 

You each get ready silently, hanging onto a tightness in your chest. It's stupid to argue the way you do because neither of you likes to admit when you're wrong. The only sounds from your hotel room are from the whir of you blow-drying your hair and Emily hanging up some shirts before choosing the one she'll wear tonight. Even if you are a little upset with her, you hope she wears the blue striped shirt that you love so much on her. 

Emily's still watching you from her place on the bed. She's considering how and at what point she should apologize to you tonight. Even if it is true that you're not a stellar driver, she shouldn't have made a comment when both of you were clearly grouchy and eager to just get to the hotel. 

It's when she sees you twist your hair up into a clip and slip on a slinky black dress that you've had forever that she feels wholly disarmed and forgets why you guys ever argue in the first place. You're leaning over the bathroom sink to dab the lipstick on and swiping what's left on your fingers on your cheeks, puckering and pouting in the mirror, completely unaware of the way Emily's looking at you. She stands there for a few seconds before clearing her throat and grabbing her shoes. When you leave the bathroom, she looks down shyly like a kid in trouble and mumbles, "Ready to go?" 

You nod, remaining neutral outside, but seeing Emily's guilty face tugs at your heart. "Let me grab my shoes." 

"I-uh. I took them out already. They're by the nightstand." She nervously adjusts the rings on her fingers as she tells you this. You brought your favorite black heels on vacation and wear them for most of the date nights you guys have.

This little gesture that she does really makes you feel guilty about giving her the cold shoulder, so you stand in front of her, bringing your hand up to rest against her face, and tell her, "Thanks, baby." 

Emily stills and looks down at you, eyes focusing on the lip color you're wearing and wondering when it'll be time to kiss you. She'd never dream of asking if you're still mad at her because she knows better than that, and chooses to wait it out and see. When you're done slipping on your heels, she puts her hand on the small of your back as you exit the hotel and have dinner at one of the restaurants down the street. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's hard to stay mad at each other in a restaurant this romantic. Your waiter poured each of you a glass of red wine and left the bottle for you both to split over the course of dinner. Emily's nervously twisting her rings while you look directly at her with your chin propped on the palms of your hand. She's focused on her plate of pasta while you sip from your glass of wine. She wipes the napkin at the corner of her mouth before clearing her throat and looking at you. 

Right now, she could really forget she's in Italy at all. All she could see was the gravity of your long eyelashes blinking back at her, your hand wrapped around the wine glass, and the corners of your mouth turned down into a slight frown. 

"Y/N? I wanted to say I'm sorry, baby." She laughs, reaching across the table to grab your hand. "I was–I shouldn't have said what I did back there in the car." 

You look at her downturned brown eyes, the blue shirt you love so much, and how it bounces off the soft light of the restaurant. You've been thinking about kissing her since she set your shoes out for you, desperately restraining yourself against kissing her stupid and forgetting you were ever angry with each other. 

You sigh, "Are we idiots, Em?" 

Emily laughs, "We must be. We're like little kids." She punctuates the tenderness of the admission by kissing the back of your hand. 

You shrug, "I'm not the best driver, I know." 

Emily doesn't say anything at first, knowing it'd only get her in more trouble to agree with that statement. "Aw baby, you know I can't read Italian. I think you were the best person for the job." 

You playfully roll your eyes, "You don't have to grovel, y'know? You're already in my good graces again." 

Emily reaches across the table to hold the side of your head, gently pressing her lips to yours. You've been thinking about her hands in your hair since she tucked your hair behind your ear earlier in the hotel room. When you pull apart, all you can taste is the wine you've both been drinking, pausing to see how it's turned the corners of Emily's mouth a delicious shade of red. Observing the color makes you kiss her back more intensely, running a finger across her jawline. 

She leans back in her chair, spreading her legs a bit before slowly sipping from her wine glass. "Y'look pretty t'night, ma." 

She's flirting with you like you guys haven't been dating for some time now. You narrow your eyes at her, "Yeah?" 

She gives you one long look, sweeping her eyes from top to bottom. "Yeah." 

You consider what your next move should be. Your instincts tell you to ask your lover what she's thinking. Her expression is relieved, cheeks flushed from the wine you've both had. Out of habit, you actually do, softly whispering, "What are you thinking, Em?" 

She looked to the side before smirking, "I think we should go back to the room so I can show you how sorry I am."

[lovelytsunoda]

let me go | jake seresin

summary: jake is twenty years old and about to ship off for his first assignment in the us navy. he thinks his girlfriend deserves better, but she's here to tell him just how wrong he is

pairing: jake seresin x childhood sweetheart! reader

warnings: angst, based on the song 'let me go' by christian kane, cliffhanger ending because i'm evil like that, spoiler: accidental pregnancy

author's note: i usually don't listen to country music but i caught a rerun of my favorite 'leverage' episode the other day and remembered this song existed, and the fic wrote itself from there

Jake Seresin's Ford Ranger was parked as close to the edge of the cliff that you could get without being a danger to yourself and others. The view over the grassy cliff and into the turquoise water of the bay around Stacey's Point was to die for, but neither was focused much on the water. The lighthouse stood proud behind them, occasionally swinging around the illuminate their bodies.

The pair had spent many a night at this point, perfect in the late spring and early fall, free of the tourists that flocked to the Point's picturesque shores. In mere weeks the town would be overrun, college boys tripping over each other for lifeguard jobs that would allow them to show off their muscles to any tourist girl in a ten mile radius.

They lay in the back of the truck, Jake's letterman jacket over her shoulders. She was too good for him, he thought to himself as he nuzzled into her neck, gently sucking a hickey. At her quiet moan, he felt a stabbing pain in his heart.

How could he possibly say goodbye? Walk away from the best thing that had ever happened to him? The mere thought made him sick to his stomach.

"Sugar, there's something I need to talk to you about."

She pulled away from him, pulling his ratty old football jacket tighter around her shoulders. "Talk to me, Seresin. What's going on?" She always had been good at reading him, understanding him the way that nobody else could.

Jake sighed, averting his eyes. "I got my marching orders today. They want me in Fort Worth by the end of the month."

There was silence for a long stretch, and then he felt her warm hand engulfing his. "We'll figure it out. Jake, when you first enlisted I told you I was in it for the long haul. That's not going to change."

Jake shook his head. Why couldn't she get it? "You've got another year of college to go, sweetheart. You have a future. You have parents that love you. What do I have? I have a chequing account with ninety-three dollars in it, and this old fucking truck."

YN's face fell. "That doesn't change anything. I've heard Texas is beautiful this time of year. We can go long distance until I'm finished school, and then I can meet you in Fort Worth. Jake, we can make this work."

"No we can't. Haven't you been listening? You've got it good here. Don't throw it away on me, you're just going to get hurt in the end."

Anything could happen to him while he was in the air. Injuries, dismemberment, death.

Whatever happened to him, he couldn't put her through that.

Red-faced and with his head in his hands, Jake got up from the back of the truck and started pacing along the dry grass.

"Why are you so eager to give up on me, Jake? Do you want to know what I think?" She shouted, trying to get him to look at her. "I think you're scared. You're not as strong ad you think you are, and I think you're scared to be in love. I think this is the realest relationship you've ever been in, and you're trying to sabotage it because you don't think you deserve to be happy."

She was right. She was right and they both knew it.

A lot of people had let Jake Seresin down in the long run. Teachers, friends, the adults of Stacey's Point. His own father had wasted no time in telling Jake that he wouldn't be smart enough to get to college on his own, and that he'd need a football scholarship to get there. Low and behold, Jake hadn't been good enough at football either. He'd seen the military as his only chance.

"You deserve better than me, YN. You deserve someone stable, someone who can always be there for you."

He'd thought it through, he kept telling himself. Breaking her heart now would be better for both of them in the long run.

"You're being ridiculous. I want you, Jake." She pleaded, one hand over her stomach through the thin linen of her pinstriped dress. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, and she could feel the heavy pressure in the back of her throat.

"God knows why." He snorted back a laugh. "I'll only break your heart down the road. You're better off without me."

"Don't fucking say that!" Her voice cracked. "Why can't you see that I love you?"

"I love you too, YN, but I'll never forgive myself if something happens to me while I'm out there, and you get left alone to pick up the pieces." Jake's voice was firm as he sank to his knees in the soggy grass, taking one of her hands in his. There was a wild desperation in his eyes, pleas in his voice. "So please, just let me let you go. It's better that way."

She shook her head, tears beginning to track down her cheeks. She couldn't do that, for more reasons than one "I can't, Jake."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm pregnant."

[asce-of-hearts]

Can I request Yandere Shanks Alphabet? I love him and want your opinion on what kind of Yandere he would be

Yandere Alphabet: "Red Haired" Shanks

Contents: Yandere Alphabet for Shanks

more Shanks content here!

TAG LIST

WARNINGS: YANDERE, CHARACTER ANALYSIS, DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND DEATH, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP IN THE CONTEXT OF THE ANALYSIS, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

How do they show their love and affection? 

Shanks is a very physical person! He loves to touch and grope and rub and everything that includes feeling you with his hand. He cannot keep his hand off you, not even if you asked. Very clingy, like and overgrown cat.

How intense would it get?

He can be pretty intense, and even when you ask he has a hard time respecting this particular limit. He just cannot spend too long without touching you if you are close to him. His hand has a mind of their own and he can't refuse or control it.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Shanks doesn't like to cause scenes so you're in luck. But he does like triumphant exits and dramatic entrances, so be aware that if he wants to mark territory that'll be his resource in doing so.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

How would they treat their darling once abducted? 

I think Shanks remains the same as when you were dating him. Nice enough. He's always a little bit of a jerk with everyone, a little more with his darling since they're forced to tolerate him. But overall due to the circumstances he would remain as nice to you as possible.

Would they mock them?

If they provoque him enough he will. Although its rare and wouldn't happen if his darling were showing too many sighs of distress.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Not really. Even if he's willing to keep his darling with him when they clearly don't desire so, he feels guilty when he takes a mile when given an inch. So he tries to keep himself courteous with you, always asking for consent for bigger things, or things that are other than kissing and hugging, maybe a little groping.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? 

I think Shanks doesn't have that much of a problem being vulnerable. He's open as anyone would be with their beloved, not outwardly exposing all your secrets but they do tend to loosen their tongue just a bit.

How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

They are one of his weak spots, but doesn't show it too much. Mostly because he keeps you hidden from the world, like any other sane and smart pirate, they hide their treasure.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

At the beginning he would be amused. Not too happy but not pissed. If it's recurrent and never changes then he will just become exasperated, and knock you out with his emperor haki before you even have the chance to make a run across the deck.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

 Is this a game to them?

No. Even if his personality is playful he takes his relationship seriously and makes sure to let his darling know they aren't either a fucktoy or a side gig. They're his darling and deserve to be acknowledged as such.

 How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Not a lot. Cat and mouse games become very tiring when overdone.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Shank's isn't cruel. At least he likes to think he isn't. So when his darling is met with indifference from his behalf it stings. He's all soft smiles and gentle whispers, so when his eyes are cold, his smile is gone? It's like having a knife pierce all the way through your stomach. And he will do it constantly if you disappoint.

Plant the seed and let it grow. The seed of despair, of the thought that the man who once loved you so passionately, so violently, might, in that very moment, be tired of you.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

King of pirates... queen of pirates. Yeah, along those lines.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Do they get jealous?

Shanks isn't the jealous insecure type, he's the jealous possessive type. Doesn't get jealous because he thinks he can be replaced, no, gets jealous because he thinks you're his. Completely, utterly, outwardly.

Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Often copes, most people he sees as "competition" aren't competition anyways. Knocked out cold with a single stare or... swiftly dealt with by his crew.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Very lovey dovey, very sappy, the sappiest man alive. Will talk to you in a sickly sweet voice and coo at you and look at you like you're the only one in the world. Extremely corny, extremely clingy, extremely everything.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Usual pirate courting. Expensive gifts, expensive liquor, expensive jewels. The whole package, if his charming presence and charisma and the fact that he can get along with practically everyone around him isn't enough to sway you, then he'll buy you. Metaphorically speaking of course.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

No, Shanks doesn't like pretending. You will like him for who he is, and if you don't... well, sucks to suck.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Doesn't do a lot of punishments. The most physical he'll get its a smack on the head if his darling really fucks up or puts themselves on a dangerous position. Otherwise... restraints, woohoo!

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Not that many, just don't speak to anyone else, and don't look at anyone else, and don't breathe near anyone else and don't exist within a five mile radius of anyone else. Kidding! Shanks will just put the condition over your pretty ass that you can't belong to anyone else. Which just means, not crossing any boundaries any normal, healthy, monogamous relationship wouldn't cross.

And don't leave his side if he's not fighting.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Very patient to the point it almost seems patronizing. Shanks is a very gentle man and a very gentle lover who has no issue with waiting for you to get used to him and his strange ways of keeping you safe, and his.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

He would mourn them a lot. Becomes a raging alcoholic for a while and isn't able to think about anything other than his darling. He would search for them earth, sea and sky. In the end he's forced to move on, but honors them in any way he can.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

 Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? 

Nah. It was done for their safety and also to keep him sane and without the constant little worm in his ear telling them you're either fucking another man or worse, getting killed while fucking another man.

Would they ever let their darling go?

No, would probably just leave them on a safe island under his control AT MOST. And even then it isn't likely to happen if he isn't actively involved in violent pirate business that could put his darling at risk.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

He's just... like that. Doesn't know how to explain it and doesn't care to do much introspection about it either. He's just obsessive, and possessive and has a tendency to hoard. Can you blame him?

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

I think he would feel guilty solely because he's so used to his darling being happy and outgoing with him. So he would try and do things to lift their mood, or make them feel more easy about the situation.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Shanks wouldn't kidnap you unless given a reason. Although a fair reason can appear out of nowhere, if the stars align and you are good, he will let you continue with your normal life forever and ever if that's what god allows and wants.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

He's too trusting after a while. If he leaves you on a island just... run away.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Not intentionally, and if so, never badly. Never enough to leave a mental scar.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

How much would they revere or worship their darling? 

He worships them a lot, he thinks his darling is an angelic being that the gods chose to have him watch over and care for. His darling is his lucky charm, his star, his moon and sun and everything. His darling is everything nice and everything perfect, nothing less than divine.

To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Any length he needs to go, any boundary he needs to cross, every threat he needs to deal with. Anything.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

I think if Shanks were to kidnap you it's because he knows you, and wants you to be close to him. He doesn't make any rash decisions, so if he took you away its because he's certain he needs you as much as he needs air to breathe. If Shanks was to take his darling with him, forever, it's because something forced him to. Whether it was unsafe circumstances, rivals in loving interests, or simply his darling thinking they have much more freedom than they actually do.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Not at all, Shanks is one of the nicest, most tender yanderes you'll ever come across.

the lack of Shanks gifs should be studied

hope you enjoyed this!!!

have a great/day night!!!

COMISSIONS INFO

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[screamlet]

new fic: post 8x09-10 coda

my contribution to the "tommy shows up at eddie's place and finds buck there" collection. also on the ao3.

bucktommy / hopeful ending / 1k

---

Buck thought about becoming a cyclist a few years ago. Like, as a personality trait. Like he thought he'd get really into biking on his off days, ride for miles and miles, maybe do some of those super long 50-mile races people allegedly did. Getting a newish start at Eddie's old place means taking his fancy bike out of storage and deciding whether it should come with him.

He starts riding and it's not exactly transformative, and he feels a little silly thinking it would be. But he keeps to it because, what, does he have anything else to do? Eddie's settling into his new house and working on his family (not just Chris, but all of his family) and everyone else in his life has their own families, and Buck has his bike. And running shoes. Maybe he should take up running instead. Or build a home gym, like Tommy has. Had. Has. He's not sure about the state of his home gym.

That also feels dumb, though, since Eddie told prospective tenants over and over again that there was a bustling suburban downtown area with a great gym that had reasonable membership prices, and honestly maybe at this point Buck should think about moving out of LA, too. At least when he lived in the Jeep and traveled all over, he met lots of new and different people who made time for him for a little while, and he'd be on the road before they could really lose interest in him and let him go.

"Are you crying?"

Buck's sitting on the front step of Eddie's house and rubbing at his eyes but, yeah, he might have been crying. Now he's definitely crying in front of Tommy, who's standing on the lawn with his hands on his hips. They stare at each other for a minute, like Tommy's waiting for an answer and as if Buck isn't obviously answering him.

"Feeling a little lonely, Tommy. How about you?" Buck leans on his knees and musters a smile. "What are you doing here anyway?"

Tommy takes another long moment to answer, but Buck's got nowhere else to be so he can wait him out. Wait, he lives here now; he literally has nowhere else to be.

"Eddie said his subletter wouldn't move in for a few more days but he thought he left the back door unlocked. Did he tell you the same thing?" Tommy raises his eyebrows. "Cute little scheme to get us to run into each other?"

Buck claps his hands. "I'm the subletter."

Tommy looks surprised, but tries to hide it. "And is the back door closed?"

"I'll find out." Buck, hollowed out, smiles again. "Need anything else?"

A beat. A long one, again. "I've been lonely, too."

"Really?" Buck asks. "With your karaoke trivia and—"

"I've been lonely, too," Tommy repeats.

Buck's less hollow now; a drop of pity for Tommy has hit the bottom of the bucket.

"Wanna sit with me? Be less lonely?" Buck clears his throat. "Eddie told you he was moving, right?"

"He did." Tommy comes closer. "Said he didn't need any help, though, so I didn't come by. Had all the help he needed. Did you guys have a going away thing?"

A wave of pity rolls into the bucket.

"It was really last minute," Buck says.

"Yep. I get it."

There's enough space, for sure, but Buck edges to one side of the step anyway. "There's space for you."

"That's okay." Tommy's lips are a fine line before they quirk into a smile. "I don't need the pity."

"Too bad," Buck replies. "I went and got too much for myself and there's leftovers with your name on them."

Tommy rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. He sighs loudly, playfully, then comes and sits next to Buck on the step. He asks, "You doing okay?"

"I mean, my pregnant sister got kidnapped and my best friend moved to another state and I moved out of my apartment that I've been in for five years and I still miss my ex-boyfriend but other than that. Yeah, just fine." Buck clears his throat and points to his bike. "Do I seem like a cyclist to you? Like could you see me really getting into biking?"

"I think if you want something, nothing will stop you," Tommy says. "If you want to date a guy and never have before, you're gonna date a guy. If you wanna learn everything about a dead cowboy and then give him a respectful funeral while you're covered in boils, you will. If you—Eddie gave me like five different lemon and walnut and cranberry-orange loaves before he left and he said you made them? You just like, started a baking side gig or something? Did you want to do that, too, or did it just happen to you?"

"Oh, that." Buck has been blushing as Tommy talked, ducking his head to hide it, shying away, but Tommy's leaned in like he has to make sure Buck doesn't miss a word. "I started baking after we broke up. It was a good distraction."

"Five—"

"You came at the tail end, honestly, you missed a whole bakery's worth over the holidays." Buck looks at him. "What have you been doing?"

"Me, well. I bought another car I could start restoring. I repainted my porch and the fence. Took up yoga because, I don't know, wasn't feeling that flexible anymore. Uh." Tommy motions to the bike. "Also thought about biking because who doesn't want to pedal away from their problems, right?"

Buck asks, "What's your schedule look like? Did you actually buy a bike? Want to go on a ride? I know a place that does rentals."

"Buck, I don't know."

He wants to howl and correct him (Evan) but he keeps his mouth shut.

"Just an offer," Buck says. "I'm gonna head in now. Do you want water or something before you head back?"

Tommy doesn't make a move until Buck does, standing up from the steps and brushing off the back of his jeans. "If you're free..."

Buck raises his eyebrows.

"I'm free," Tommy says. "There's a bottle shop like 10 minutes away, if—maybe we could have a drink here? I don't know if you've already christened your new house or anything."

Buck grins. "Have I had a beer here? Yeah, I have. But—but that sounds nice. I can order a pizza if you're hungry. I'm starving."

"Yeah, that sounds nice." Tommy takes a few steps back to the truck. "I'll be back. Promise."

That little promise makes him ache. "No IPAs, please."

"I remember." Tommy watches him for a moment from the driver's side, then climbs into the truck and starts it up. Buck steps inside and shuts the door. He knows Tommy will be back.

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 16/10✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: i absolutely adore your shadowpeach bio-parents au comics they flow really nicely from post to post, and i looove the balance between angst & fluff i feel as if with shadowpeach, its always either angst or fluff- no inbetween, but somehow you've found a really nice mixture of both thanks for singlehandedly keeping me in the LMK fandom haha

Thank you! Fluff and angst keep going around each other like a microwave ahah

Anonimo ha chiesto: So like with mks monkey form does he have to deal with shedding during summer I think it would be funny if macaque and Mk got fluffier during winter. Wukong wouldn't complain about a fluffy macaque though probably like sleeping with the best plushy.

Oh man I think they do indeed haha. Pigsy would scold MK bc he keeps finding fur hair everywhere in the house

Anonimo ha chiesto: You seem like someone who knows a lot about the LMK fandom, so I must ask where does the idea of Princess Iron Fan and Macaque being sworn siblings come from? Like, is it from JTTW, and im just not aware of it, I'm still trying to learn as much as I can, and I need to actually read the book. The fact that people assume I know a lot about the fandom is so hilarious (not in a mocking way, I'm just very surprised) bc like- I watched the whole show in 1 day, speedwatched Overly sarcastic production recap of JTTW and read half of the book in a week. All of this in July. That's everything that I know from the fandom.

I think it's an headcanon. in JTTW Wukong, Macaque and DBK are all part of the brotherhood so.

Anonimo ha chiesto: First off I LOVE your comic but I have the animal autism and wanted to share some Monkey facts: monkeys don't sweat like humans do they mostly sweat on the palms and feet, areas they have no fur. For overheating monkeys mainly seek shade staying under trees , increase respiration (panting), seeking water sources. Also some species might shed for a thinner coat during summer. Sweating is an exclusively human thing and why humans have been so successful humans are persistent hunters. We would often follow herds for miles waiting for them to tire and overheat while sweating keeps us perfectly cool. Humans are also the only animal to blush. Lol Again no hate love the comic I love me some Flustered blushing gay monkeys. I just have the animal autism and wanted to info dump.

Thank you for the animal fact dump! Those were actually super interesting facts!

@draxeanlxia ha chiesto: Hey question that I have no idea if you already answered but how old is MK in your BIO Parents AU? I know people (usually) believe him to at least 18 due to China’s minimum driving age but others believe him to in his early 20s. Also Mac in your AU said was ‘grown ass man’ during the baby arc. So in your AU, how old is MK?

So. in the AU he's 21 y/o. Meaning that when he arrived to Pigsy door they saw him and went "yeah, he looks around 2/3" and from then they counted on. Buut there's also the thing that he looks a little younger than that age. I wont say anything else.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Who your Favorite Lmk character??

mmmmmmm... MK bc he's monkey now. Before season 4 probably Macaque or Wukong. But I have a "thing" for characters discovering they are actually a different species and slowly gaining new/different body features bc of that, so when I saw him flickering at the end of s4 I flew to a different universe. Literally the whole reason this AU exist is because I would die for this trope

Anonimo ha chiesto: What inspired your Human Wukong & Mac designs? Mostly because my brain looks at Macaque and thinks “Cranky middle aged pirate” meanwhile Wukong’s is “That chill gay uncle” (this is based off of purely looks by the way)

Macaque is drama queen so of course he would wear a trenchvoat during fall. plus he's old inside and outside bc of all Wukong bullshit. Wukong is your friendly neighbour who lives in a sketchy house and survives on peach sodas and chips (oh wait that's just canon Wukong.)

ainnur ha chiesto: You know I like how Wukong in your comic just compare something hot with Laozi's furnace. Like with spicy food and time he help MK created the weapon. Mk: You know Wukong you mention Laozi's furnace a lot. Must really tough 49 days for you... Wukong:Yeah worst 49 years *eating peach* Mk: Can tell- wait- years..? Wukong: Yeah a day at heaven is like one year here or so..Do the math, bud *continue to eat the peach* Mk:.... what..? Wukong just casually and accidently recall his trauma because he thought it never effect him like his other trauma. Also the brotherhood have 49 years to help him but they didn't do anything. "Yeah because normally you would rush into my rescue"

Thank you for giving me this traumatic info I didn't know about. Now I will never look at Wukong the same (why did my boy have to suffer so much)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Macaque: I think I'm in love with Wukong . . . Any thoughts. Chiyou: and prayers you're going to need them.

me too bitch, the fuck

@mirror-queen226 ha chiesto: I agree about the last ask you posted (about Wukong surely wearing a dress on a date), and I just couldn't help but say my own headcanon too (with a little bit of knowledge about the ancient times that Wukong was just a child on the jttw and lmk): I dunno if you agree but okay. Honestly, both Wukong and Mac/Mihou (like i usually call him) does not care about clothes, if they feel comfortable with them, be it for woman or man, they'll wear it, especially Wukong though, I feel like he'd act like a famous diva in a on a runway showcasing new high-class clothes from Victoria Secret, Channel, or something, whilst Mac is much more discreet but not too far from that too. And considering Wukong was wearing WOMAN clothes when he was in the brotherhood in the season 4 lmk flashback, it just made me believe in that headcanon even more :) Also, I am really loving your au, it's just so perfect the way you develop every character slow and patiently, keeping their personalities untouched, not changing but instead expanding and showing them a bit more, how they are really trying to improve (Wukong and Mihou in this case) and how satisfying it is to see. I always rush to see the new updates you post about the Biodads au every time i see too, and honestly, one of the 5 best au's ever, you draw so good too, it's adorable! That's all I wanted to say, have a nice day, drink water and take care of your health! 🥰🥰🥰

Yeah true! Like they are shapeshifter, they wouldn't care what species they are, even less the perceived gender norms

Anonimo ha chiesto: Little question, while the monkeys where at Chiyou's forge, shadowpeach where still sleeping together or not?

They were all sleeping in sleeping bags on the floor (but they all were close to each other.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Generally curious what you think would have happened if MK had not been woken up and the stone wasn't broken what do you think would have happen. would he had grown up on FFM?

Aww he probably would have been raised by Wukong. I don't know if that's a good or bad thing.

@wolfsonic ha chiesto: I have question! Does Rumble and Sabage have sentience in your stories? Like, do they have their own personalities like MK clones do? If yes, what do they think of WuKong and MK? Also, will we see more of them? Cause I'd love Mk to meet them when he wasn't stuck as a cub and not remember.

Yeah I think they have a littel bit of personalities. They like both MK and Wukong, but would also do prank on him.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I think I won't say I'm in love from Hercules fits macaque very well

The little monkeys are the muse doing backup choir

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can we see what a courtnapping room typically looks like?

Courtnapping rooms are made specifically for the courted one, so they are all different. Basically, the room should include everything the courted person would need to live comfortable and also a collection of things they like / to pass the time /love.

It must show that the person courtnapping them is able to provide, care and protect for them. And also knows what makes them happy.

So it can be a huge castle full of jewerly and elegant clothes/ornaments or just a cozy room with some chips and video games.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Is LBD going to be a topic in your au again ?

maybe

@wolfasketch ha chiesto: We need MK interacting with his new found Auntie and Uncle please(we also new to see Red being flustered by MK while his parents are around and PIF being like "Ooohhhh")

We are VERY luky Red Son and MK didn't grew up together or we would have thier parents playing love-matching with them while they are toodlers

Anonimo ha chiesto: could we possibly get a traffic light trio and shadopeach grooming train at some point, i would love to see some bonding time between them all <3 and i would love to see mk grooming redsons hair since there's so much of it

Wait who would be the second person to be groomed? I assume RedSon hair are too hot to touch. (when he's flustered, at least)

Anonimo ha chiesto: So like how does Redsons hair/ fire work. Does it just feel warm to MK and Mei. Will it only burn/ hurt you if he doesn't trust you. Another note it must be nice having two fire demon friends during winter.

I think when he's relaxed, the hair is just- a little bit warm, then with his feelings and emotion it can go up to a bigillion degrees, so it's not harmful as long as he can control it.

[bratbarzal]

Maggie you doing blurbs has made my whole week! Could I get “you celebrate this corny day?” “just say you’re lonely and have no one to spend it with, next time, ‘kay?” but with friends to lovers instead of enemies? With Quinn pleeeease <3

✩‧₊˚ bratbarzal's valentines event!˚₊‧✩

4. “you celebrate this corny day?” “just say you’re lonely and have no one to spend it with, next time, ‘kay?” with quinn (I took creative liberties with the exact phrasing of this but the essence is there lmao!! also love you for customising it, if anyone else is requesting feel free to jumble the tropes!!)

"You can't seriously be into all this stuff," Quinn huffs as he watches you pick up another heart shaped pillow down the seasonal aisle in the grocery store - your cart still empty despite being there almost 15 minutes, now - and the object in your hand having no conceivable difference to the one you picked up just before it. "It's so corny."

All he's heard for weeks now is Valentines this, and Valentines that, all his teammates going the extra mile for their significant others like it isn't just the same as any other Friday.

Dozens of roses, candlelit dinners, boxes of chocolates and God-forbid any of them forget a card, because how could you possibly ever show someone you love them without a folded bit of paper.

It's all so stupid.

"It's not corny, it's cute." You throw back over your shoulder, making a point of lifting the pillow higher just to show him, "Look, it's got ruffles!"

"What's the big deal about ruffles," he scowls, stepping past the cart and closer to the display that houses all the valentines themed garbage - pillows, keychains, water bottles and little plushies. He never thought you'd be into all this stuff - you barely even like Christmas - but here you are, fawning over anything you can find that's pink, or fluffy, or both. "You have like 90 pillows back in your apartment, I can barely fit on the couch anymore."

"There are 8 pillows max between both of my couches, Q, and they're decorative." You retort, rolling your eyes at your best friend as his face turns, nose scrunching in a petulant scowl. "I'm not taking interior design critique from someone with a sauna in his kitchen."

"It wouldn't fit anywhere else, you know that." he grumbles, snatching the pillow from your grip and throwing it back with the others.

"What's got you so annoyed about Valentines Day, huh?" you pick up the next item along, a fluffy keychain with cherries shaped like hearts - or hearts shaped like cherries, you're not quite sure - swinging the loop around your finger until you have enough momentum to launch it his way. "Did no one give Quinny a rose?"

He catches it, clumsily, against his chest, holding it in front of him to get a good look before he throws it straight back. "I'm not annoyed. You shouldn't have to buy any of this garbage to show somebody you love them. Just think it's a made up holiday set up to make money off of schmucks. "

"Hey, don't call me a schmuck," you jab a finger into his arm.

"Don't call me Quinny," he jabs back.

"If you don't have anybody to spend Valentines with and you're feeling lonely, you can just say that," You tell him, purposely bordering on condescending, picking up one of the stuffed animals - a bear, holding a heart that reads, I love you - and wiggling it his way. "See, we're all lovers, no one else here is gonna judge you."

He watches the way you pout down at the bear, tapping at its nose with your finger and hesitantly putting it back, like you don't quite want to.

"We're the only ones here, period," he scoffs, "No one else is weird enough to do their grocery shopping at 10pm."

"It was the only time you're free and I need you to haul the big bag of cat food into my car," you pout, remembering how much he had scolded you the last time you tried to do it on your own and hurt your back - promising that the next time you needed to top up, he'd come with and get his own shopping done at the same time.

"Whatever, you don't have anybody to spend Valentines with, either."

"I have Ziggy," you shrug, referring to your cat with the little white patch of fur around it's eye like a lightening bolt - the cat that Quinn had grumbled about when you first brought her home from the shelter, but who he always sought out whenever he came over to your place. "We're gonna watch Bake Off and eat dinner off of matching heart-shaped plates."

You hold up two red ceramic plates to him with a big smile before putting them in the cart, ignoring when he chuckles to himself, and edging past him to finally make your way off of the seasonal aisle.

"Hold on," he calls after you, appearing by your side with another plate in hand. "Ziggy already told me she'd be my Valentine, so we're gonna have to share."

"She's way too high maintenance for you." You snort, bumping your hip against his, "Especially if you think Valentines gifts are corny. She's not a cheap date, Q."

"Just like her mother," he sighs, dramatically, jumping back when you swing your leg out to kick him. "Hey, watch the shins, cat lady, you can't afford the damages on these things!"

He ignores the glare you give him as you watch him retreat, jogging back over to all the Valentines stuff and picking up two bears - the one you were just holding, and a smaller copy - one for you, and one for Ziggy.

"Here," he throws them into the cart, too. You pick the bear back up, twisting your lips as you look at the two of them side by side, and look back up to watch him walking backwards down the aisle, a glint in his eye as he watches you. "Don't check out without me, I need to go pick up some supplements."

"Big macho health-nut thinks I'm the corny one," you speak to the bear like it can even hear you, putting on a grumbly voice in an attempt to mimic Quinn.

"I'm sorry I called you corny!" He calls, further down the aisle, now.

"You called me a schmuck, too!" You call back, cheeks flushing at the lopsided grin he gives just before he rounds the corner at the bottom.

It's a smile he can't really shift as he makes a bee-line for the health aisle, content now that he actually has plans - isn't going to be sitting alone in his apartment with no one to spend his Valentines with, and doesn't need to fork out thousands just for it to mean something.

And when it rolls around a couple days later, and he's sprawled out on your couch, pillows tossed to the floor, and Bake Off flickering almost silently on your TV, he lays back with that same smile etched into his features.

You're asleep under one arm, and Ziggy is purring under the other, and for the first time ever, thanks to his best friend and your overly fluffy cat, he thinks that maybe the holiday isn't such a joke.

[writtenbythemoonandstars]

Camping

Part 4 of the First Date series

Possible content warnings without spoiling too much include: descriptions of injuries and medical procedures and discussion of past sexual events.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

1.8k words

---

Robby has always loved camping. The smell of pine trees and sap, of fire and smoke. The serene sounds of birds, crackling fires. When he was a kid he'd camp by the ocean and the waves crashing were always enough to put him to sleep at night. 

The taste of bug spray bitter on his tongue as he accidentally breathes it in. "Honey, I think you've scared off enough bugs. Put it down." His voice soft amused. When he'd heard she hadn’t ever been camping before Robby quickly booked them a site the first weekend they were both free. 

"I'm allergic to mosquitoes you know." She sighs, spraying her arm one last time before setting it down. "Not like… deathly but I don’t want to break out in hives." 

"I don't think anyone within a hundred mile radius will come in contact with any bugs thanks to you." He teases, laughing. Raising his hands in surrender when he gets a look.

"Maybe I forgot to mention that just because I haven't ever been camping before doesn't mean I felt like I was missing out on anything. It's great that you're Bear Grylls or whatever but I'm meant to sleep in an actual bed. Not like… a sleeping bag on the dirt." He just continues to chuckle at her. Not taking any offence. 

"You'll have fun I promise." 

There are a lot of things you don't say in the ER or as a doctor in general. Things like, "Seems quiet" or "calm" or make promises which you have no control over. 

Which is probably why two hours later it starts to pour rain. Making it difficult for Robby to start a fire. Seeing his… girlfriend? Is that what he calls her now? They haven't really talked about it but he's not seeing anyone else and she's been coming over at least three times a week for the past four months. 

Anyway, she's drowning in the jacket he fortunately packed. Causing him to be the one that's soaking wet. "Is this how I looked when I showed up for our first date?" She asks. Amused as she observes him work. 

"Better." Robby replies, winking when he catches her rolling her eyes. 

He ties a tarp high enough it wouldn't catch fire but also cover the pit from the rain. 

"That’s really hot." She says. Resting her head in her hands, watching him. "It's so…" She shrugs, not thinking of the right word, "manly?"

"Yeah?" Robby stands. Moving closer, his hands sliding around her hips. "You like it?" 

"Mhm." Nodding, eyes closing as he kisses up her neck. 

"You taste like bug spray." He comments after pulling back.

"I used an entire bottle before I got out of my car. You can imagine what that smells like." Robby laughs. He moves to sit down on the log next to her.

"I may hate it out here but I can see the appeal. The rain, the fire, it's all very calming." She nods. 

"We'd camp every year, sometimes more than once, when I was a kid." Robby tells her. He feels her nod and lay her head on his shoulder. "Grandma was a really big fan of Survivor." He adds, "recreational camping is obviously a lot different than the tropical survival they do on the show but sometimes she'd make my brother and I do puzzles or eat rice and fish out here."

"Oh yeah?" She snorts, "Grandma has taste." Robby feels her nod. "Watching Survivor was probably one of the only times my family and I got along growing up. Probably because we were all sitting watching tv instead of talking to each other." 

"Are you my girlfriend?" He can't help but blurt. The thought on his mind for a while now.

"What do you mean?" Her head tilts up, "w1hat else would I be?" 

"I don't know… I- I just… we hadn't ever talked about it. Officially. I didn't know if you wanted to put a label on it." Robby says honestly. 

"Michael." Looking at him in the eyes. "You were the first man to eat me out. That's not nothing." He rolls her eyes as she laughs. "I'm serious though. I'm not seeing anyone else." 

"I'm not either." 

"Good. Then we can label it." She nods. "Boyfriend." 

"Girlfriend." Then he leans in to kiss her. The fire burns on it's own while Robby pulls her into the tent…

The next morning Robby wakes her up early. As if they hadn’t stayed up late the night before. She groans. "Isn't camping supposed to be relaxing? Waking up at-" Checking her phone, "5? Jesus, Michael." 

"This is the whole reason I brought you out here. Come on." He throws her a jacket and crawls out of the tent to wait for her. It's the excitement in his tone movements that has her moving, though mumbling complaints about it. 

"It's only a mile baby." Seeing her frown and the protest on the tip of her tongue. "I'll carry you if it's too much." 

She rolls her eyes. "With that back?" He just waves her off.

Her mood improves though when she sees why they got up before daylight. Seeing the sunrise from the top of this hill after a mile- an uphill mile she wants to add that Robby conveniently "left out". 

If only Robby remembered that due to the rain last night the dirt trail would be incredibly muddy. On the walk down both of them shared stories about work. Robby thought about her question, "Have you ever had any patients where they stayed totally calm in a situation where they should not be?" 

"I had this guy come in with a nail in his hand. Like, straight through the palm. Kept joking that now he could finally get out of helping his brother move this weekend. Meanwhile I’m trying to keep a straight face while removing an actual hardware-store nail from a human hand. It missed all the major nerves and tendons by millimeters. I stitched him up, wrapped it, and told him to avoid power tools for at least a week. And definitely not to pick up any couches-" He turns when he finally realized there were no sounds of footsteps behind him anymore. 

Where did she go? One minute she was right behind him, grabbing the water from his backpack, and now…

"Michael?" Her voice broken, he nearly didn't hear it. 

She'd fallen down off the side of the hill, laying at the bottom. Slipped in the mud and just tumbled all the way down. 

"Fuck. Hold on. I'm coming." He has to be careful getting to the bottom where she is. 

"Did you hit your head?" Robby reaches her quickly. Swiftly checking over her condition. He doesn't hear an answer right away and snaps his head to her face. "Baby? Did you hit your head?" Robby pulls a pen light from the first aid kit in his backpack. 

"No, but your water bottle hit me." She picks it up. Her eyes are normal and reactive to light. Despite the metal bottle to the head he rules out concussion for now. 

There's no blood, which is honestly a miracle, except for a small scratch on her chin. Doesn't even need stitches. 

"Michael?" Her voice strained. Nervous. He looks up from where he's securing a small bandage to her chin. But she's not looking at him. Following her eyes… his heart drops. 

"My ankle isn't supposed to look like that right?" She quickly grabs on to the pocket of his jacket. 

"No it is not." Robby can tell it's fractured. 

"Fuck…" She replies slowly. "Do you have to like- uhm- like set it? Or Whatever?" Both of them still looking at her foot.

"Yes I am." He already pulling out his phone, despite not having any service he should still be able to contact emergency services. 

"Wait-" Her eyes wide, holding the jacket he shucked off, "this is going to hurt?" Well, he didn't shove it in her mouth for no reason. 

"Yeah honey." Robby nods, the expression on his face telling her it physically pains him to have to do this. "But only for a second. I promise." A kiss is pressed to her forehead. 

He can see the apprehension on her eyes. "I'll get you the biggest margarita or ice cream sundae or honestly whatever the fuck you want baby." Hating the situation they're in. "You're so brave… and strong-"  

"Holy- Fuck. Okay." She nods. "Giant fucking margarita… Count to three?" 

He nods except he doesn't want her to tense when he gets to three. So, he says, "One. Two-"

The crack and pop is sharp in the otherwise quiet morning in the woods. 

The jacket sleeve falls from her mouth as she gasps for air. Choking which turning into gagging and spitting up some of her granola bar from an hour ago. Robby rubs circles across her back.  

"I thought we said three." She snaps though not necessarily mad at him. Just in pain. 

He moves his hands up to her shoulder. Letting her grip his wrist tightly. Leaning in to his lap. "I didn't want you to tense up." Kissing the back of her hand. 

"Paramedics will be here in twenty minutes. But I have to get you out of here." He splints and ties up her ankle before helping on to his back.

"What about-" He shakes his head. "I'll be fine." Waving her off. 

It's about halfway when he feels himself seizing up. "T-tell me a story-" going back to what they had been doing on the walk down the hill. 

She rubs his shoulders the best she can, knowing this isn't easy for him to be carrying her like this. "I had a client a few months ago who I hadn't talked to in a while. I saw her email name had changed and I asked if she had recently gotten married-" She stops talking when he stops walking, needing a break. The tension tight in his back. "Keep going." He nods to her. 

"She told me she'd been recently divorced." He starts to walk again so she continues. "It got so much worse after that and it was already awkward… I don't even remember what sparked her to tell me but she said she caught her husband cheating on her with her best friend.."

"What did you do?" They're nearly back to camp. 

"I told her I was sorry and after we finished the meeting for the day I pawned her off on a coworker and never spoke to her again." The embarrassment of what happened and the guilt of cutting her off after their awkward encounter creeps in from time to time but she forces herself to push it down. 

The paramedics arrive soon after Robby sets her down carefully then stretches his back. He watches her sleep on the ambulance ride to the nearest hospital after she was given some pain medicine. 

A boot for 6 weeks and some physical therapy. 

"You know…" She looks over at Robby slowly. A little loopy. "I had a lot of fun camping." 

That makes him laugh. "Did you?" 

"Mhm. We should do it again." Nodding. 

"I'll ask you again when you're not on drugs." He softens his laugh to a light chuckle. Pressing a kiss in her hair. 

"Okay…" She whispers before falling asleep again. 

---

Let me know what you think!

Also, btw, I know there hasn't been any mention of Robby having a brother but I added him in just for the sake of the story he was telling idk

Unedited...

[petew21-blog]

Swapcation: After the escape Part 2

You would think that this is Matthew's body and that I stayed in him till the end of my days. Unfortunately no. Althought his body was amazing and it was also my first body I really soon (like few minutes after I shot loads of cum on the grass) found out that my family was tracking me.

"I could already hear the helicopters searching the forest. The tracker must be off and showing the a larger circle. I still don't know where it could be. Is it under his skin? I didn't find anything in his clothes. And all I have is my personal stuff... I'm such an idiot. It's my phone. Why the hell did I bring my phone?"

I threw it in the opposite direction that I was gonna run. And then I ran. But I was really exhausted after the night run from the car accident. And my head kinda hurt. Matthew must have hurt himself too. So I slowed down. I didn't hear the helicopter anymore. But there I can't stay in this forest forever and certainly not in this body.

I made a decision. The first person I meet I swap with. They'll get a beautiful manly and young body.

And I was pretty luck. I met a hiker who was on his journey for a few days.

"Heyyyy man, you're also on PCT?"

What the hell is PCT. Shit I heard that before. Oh, it's Pacific Crest Trail. Perfect. If he won't notice me switching with him, he could continue with this body all the way to Canada. Who knows when he would find out, but that wouldn't be my problem anymore. Matthew's and his body were almost the same size. I mean... he was just as hot as Matthew

"Heyyy, no. I'm actually from around. Just went to the forest."

We chatted some more and I could see him getting closer. He was definitely straight, but I could get him when we were saying goodbye. Maybe by offering him my hand. I didn't have a chance to test that yet, but my family said, that the victims of body swap always end up in a short state of confusion that gives you time to leave. Like an evolutionary advantage for a predator. Or maybe a parasite?

I wished him good luck and offered him my hand, but he refused.

"Nah man, I'm a hugger. Bring it in"

Shit shit. We went for it, my naked torso and his in just a white top touching. I then activated my power. I opened my eyes and was standing on the other side. Matthew's body looked confused, but he took his bag. And started leaving.

"Wait man, you got my bag by accident. Here" I gave him his bag. I need my stuff and he needs his to survive the PCT. He wouldn't have made it if he found out what kind of useless shit I'm bringing with me.

I walked for over a mile away from the forest path. I was now somebody new. Somebody my family didn't know. I could now leave into the city and live my life forever. For the second time I felt calm. I was before when I was full of adrenalin in Matthew's body and then got to explore his body for a bit. But back then, I didn't even had the chance to look at everything I needed.

I first inspected my new abs. "Matthew had a set just like this, but it hits different in this body. This body has amazing veins going down to my crotch." The hair trail everywhere from neck all the way down there. My skin shriveled as I went over the small hills of muscle hidden beneath my skin. "My belly button, so sexy. Maybe I should swap with some horny gay who would want my body and inspect it myself."

Then I inspected my new hairy and veiny arms. Looking at each finger one by one, touching the hair, licking it. Every finger tracing each vein down to my armpit.

The sexy hairy armpit that was protected by a gigantic biceps. A biceps that could squish heads. A biceps that I got to lick all over. Smell the armpit with the beautiful smell of a man's sweat. The pheromones were hitting me hard. Hard enough that it caused my new dick to get hard as well.

"Now or never"

I swear that I thought Matthew's dick was one of the most beautiful cocks I have seen so far, but let me tell you, that this freaky hairy monster, veins look like popping out, the beautiful purple head of my cock releasing precum, balls the size of plums. How amazing is this.

I spit in my hand and started jerking off. Fuck, I couldn't even start slowly, I had to jerk off so fast. The rush was fantastic.

I sat next to a tree. Still jerking of and with my other hand licking my finger, pushing it in my mouth. How amazing it's gonna be to blow someone with the bearded mouth.

My pecs bouncing in the rythm of the masturbation. Up and down. Sweat glisthening on the, running down the middle over my abs all the way through to my massive cock. My massive cock that my massive hand jerked furiously.

I shot my cum, but shot some of it into my hand. The rest must have flown several feet away from me.

The white cum sticking my fingers was tempting me. I put it in my mouth and licked my fingers clean. As I sat there, breathing out. I laughed, but my relaxing moment was interrupted by some hikers coming my way. I put on the clothes rapidly and headed out west.

I headed to the nearest town and downloaded Grindr. "Time to find some new boy toy to fuck." I said aloud. Yeah, if I said that now in my body no one would ever believe me. I was, and I guess I still am, a virgin. So, I think it's the great time and great body to change that.

I checked out some profiles and found one near me. We met at the park. My torso still bare from the forest adventure. It was a guy in his early 20s. Slightly twinkish, but cute.

"Girrrrlll, I thought you were catfishing me. This is amazing. How did you get this big?" he almost screamed as he went to pinch my left tit.

"Eh, you know. Healthy lifestyle and lot of gym"

"And a lot of cardio, I presume?"

"How about we find out if I had enough cardio today?"

We got in his shower. Both our dicks horny from the view. We kiss passionately. His hands were still over me and over my pecs. Touching my hairy legs and arms. "Let's dry ourselves and go to bed. I need you body so much!"

He got out from the shower and looked back at me.

"I wish I had a body like that. I would enjoy it so fucking much to be this big"

Idea popped in my head. Maybe he would be quiet about it. I could use a friend now that would help me stay in secrecy to avoid my family. Yeah, I wanted to explore my new body from some else before.

I dried myself and followed him to the bedroom. He was ready on the bed. I didn't give him much time to think about it.

He was confused at first still looking at me to find out what was happening.

This was my view. "Fucking hell, I look amazing. Look at all those hair. And those pecs are almost bigger than your head." I said as he still looked at me confused.

I got behind him. "I wanted to do this since I got in that body. So hot. And daaamn. Look at that hairy ass. That's all mine?"

"Man, you and me. We're gonna have SO much fun in the following days."

It seemed like he started to comprehend what was happening. He looked at himseld and then immediately went for a kiss. During the sex, we kept swapping there and back. The confusion on his side waas gone so we didn't have to stop to let him rest and find out what's happening again.

I woke up with the view I was familiar with. Happy to be big again. The twink lying next to me and sleeping peacfully.

"I don't think I'll be leaving any time soon." caressing my sweet pecs while saying that

Part 1: