#I have not had coffee since Friday so I'm hoping this helps wake me up

[witchcraftingboop]

After 3 days of shamelessly indulging in every fleeting "maybe I should take a nap rn rn" thought, being at work is infringing upon my napping rights in a most intolerable and persistent manner. I feel so groggy and grumpy, it really may be possible that I'm not Boop at all but Scrooge, visited by supernatural beings trying to warn me away from a life of devout capitalism. Bah humbug etc etc, let me take a nap tho

[mayhem-neverending]

The Big Bad Wolf

Part XXI

Word Count: 3,435

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, one incidence of violence, mention of SA (not descriptive)

Note: I have written this in one go - one freaking sitting. I'm sure there are a lot of errors, so I apologize. I just want to get this out since I put so much in. I'll probably come back tomorrow to review and edit.

The week was spent with you and Obito glancing longingly at each other when the other person wasn’t looking. His stares, which weren’t something you were unfamiliar with, now set your nerve endings alight. He wasn’t faring much better - he visibly shuddered in delight when you accidentally brushed up against him with your backside because he was standing too close.

He was standing way too close. All the time. Obito wasn’t quite able to muster up the nerve to actually touch you like he was dying to do, so he hovered close enough that you would accidentally touch him while you worked. Acutely aware of your position at all times, he could anticipate when a brush of the hands or your hips bumping his would happen. It actually drove him crazy - the counting of the seconds while you scrubbed the counter next to him until your elbow would bump into him. He would scoot over just enough that you had another foot of countertop to work on, then let it happen all over again. 

At night he felt like he might be going crazy. The way he felt bordered on obsession, and he feared he would soon be trapped within the Uchiha’s curse again if he didn’t get it together. He even considered very briefly asking Kakashi whether it was best for you to continue in your position because of his rapidly growing, hardly controlled feelings that begged to spill over onto you. The moment of introspection was obliterated when you exited the bathroom and continued working on your newest endeavor - painting the kitchen walls. 

You had suggested adding some color to the home to make it feel warmer and more welcoming. He agreed. He suggested the kitchen and told you to choose whatever colors you wanted, because it was “really your area, anyway.” 

You had looked up at him prettily and smiled so brightly the living room lamp acquiesced its light for a moment, knowing it could not compare to you. “Be careful,” you said. “Give me an inch and I’ll take a mile,”

You could take a thousand miles from him if it meant he had the opportunity to greet you at the finish line. 

On Friday he was a bit agitated. Before you even arrived he had cursed the sun for being particularly bright, stubbed his toe and simultaneously spilled the last of the coffee grounds all over the floor. That meant you had to leave to go get some more - and a handful of other things. He stewed silently, staring at the primed kitchen walls. 

Fridays were decidedly one of his least favorite days of the week, because he knew you wouldn’t be back the next morning. And with the building tension between the two of you that he looked forward to enjoying during the day, he was especially not ready for the weekend. Not to mention you had said something about going out with Genma, and that really left a bad taste in his mouth. He was already wondering if there was something more to the way that you looked at him when you left for the day, and whether or not that was a good thing. Adding Genma to his long list of worries would leave him pulling his hair out. 

So when you left on Friday with a warm hug and a wave, he felt his heart sink. A part of him hoped you might stay longer. Maybe you could ask him to hold you again, without the burning eggs part so that he could cling to you and maybe you could accidentally fall asleep. Then maybe you could stay asleep and keep his nasty swirling thoughts at bay and he could smell you and feel your warmth all night. And then you could wake up in the morning refreshed and look at him while he pushes his hair behind your ear and he could tell you how he felt and -

Obito stopped himself. Maybe training would help clear his mind. He looked at the burning log in the fireplace. He decided he could always warm up with chopping some wood. 

…

Hikaru went with his father after preschool on Friday, which freed up time for you to clean up your apartment from the workweek and get ready to go out on the town with Genma. He chose a pretty busy bar with a dancefloor that wasn’t too far from your place. You were feeling pretty good, energy surprisingly above your usual wear and tear. 

After cleaning and putting together a quick dinner of leftovers, you showered and started getting ready. You decided to pull out an old outfit that fit a little snugly, but still made you look fantastic. You pranced around in the mirror a few times before eight o’clock finally rolled around. With one final kiss blown to the mirror, you shut the door and locked it. You walked to the bar in the slushy snow, only mildly irritated that you would definitely have to scrub your heeled boots later. 

Genma was there when you arrived and waved you over to the bar. You took a seat next to him and he tapped his shoulder against yours. “You look good,”

“I know,” you smirked before it morphed into a goofy grin. 

He rolled his brown eyes. “You’re still ridiculous, I see. What’re you drinking?” 

“Rum and sprite, please,” 

Genma motioned over the bartender and ordered your drink while you dug around for some money. He raised his eyebrow at you and shook his head. “Don’t worry, it’s on me tonight,” 

“Add it to my tab,” he said, the bartender nodded and walked away. 

You raised a brow at him, a little perturbed as he turned and set his jaw on his fist, his full attention on you. You slowly put your wallet back in your bag, hoping beyond hope that he hadn’t somehow mistook this as a date. “I can pay you back after,”

“It’s not a big deal. I make enough money. Buying your drink is the least I can do when you’re giving me your time,”

The bartender came around with your drink and you thanked him. You took a sip. “Well, that’s pretty sweet of you. Thank you, Genma,”

“Anytime,” He winked playfully. 

You rolled your eyes on reflex. His grin broadened. “So, fill me in. What all has happened since I lost my favorite sparring partner?”

“You want the long or short version?” you crossed your right leg over your left and settled one elbow on the bar, the drink in your opposite hand.

“I’ll take the long one, if you don’t mind,”

You sighed out a little dramatically. “Alright, as long as you keep the drinks coming, I’ll try my best to get through it,” 

“You got it,”

“Where to even begin…”

Genma wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted the long version. He paid attention the whole time, asking pertinent questions and gasping and nodding sympathetically where he needed to. You finished around the time your third drink was ordered. You were feeling a little tipsy, but not quite drunk yet. You gave Genma an easy smile and asked him the same question he had asked. 

“How about this,” he started, leaning in. “I’m going to go to the bathroom, but when I get back, we’ll dance to a song and then I’ll tell it,”

“Aww, but you know I don’t dance,”

“You do tonight!” he replied cheerfully, sliding from his stool. 

You didn’t argue, just took a sip from the water you ordered with your last drink and debated whether you should go to the bathroom, too, before you got to moving around. In the end you stayed seated. Genma was quick to finish, and dragged you to the dancefloor at the start of the next song. 

You danced close to him, but not so much that you were touching. You had a thought as you looked around at all the people that you wouldn’t want anyone touching you. Anyone but Obito, that is. The revelation hit you like a sack of bricks, and you faltered in your movements. 

“You okay?” Genma yelled over the music. 

You nodded and he gave you an easy smile. He took your hand in his and twirled you around. Your heart beat to the music, and again you wished that it was Obito spinning you around. Not in a crowded bar, though. Maybe you could get some of your old records out and haul a record player over to his cottage. You smiled to yourself. Genma thought it was directed at him and spun you again, this time closer to his body. 

You stumbled and accidentally stepped on the foot of a person next to you. You yelled, “Sorry!” 

When you looked up, you locked eyes with none other than Toma. Your expression soured immediately. He looked you up and down and then at Genma behind you, and his mouth turned down and his gaze turned sharp. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You yelled. “You’re supposed to be watching Hikaru!”

“What? I can’t go out too?” he rolled his eyes. He sneered at Genma, who sized him up. 

“Listen,” he spit out at Toma. “We’re just trying to have a good time. Let’s leave it there,”

Genma looked at Toma like he was something putrid. You probably matched his expression, the drinks loosening up your usual blank mask. Toma stepped closer, invading your space. You backed up into Genma, who was surprisingly solid. 

“I always knew there was something between you two. I was right to make you stop seeing him,” 

“Fuck off, Toma. Seriously. Who is Hikaru with?”

He looked at you like you were the dumbest person he had the displeasure of meeting. “My mom. And no, I’m not going to fuck off. You’re going to listen to me since you’ve refused to do it all this time,”

“No, she’s not. Leave us alone,”

He snorted derisively. “Like I’d listen to you,”

“You should, if you know what’s good for you,” Genma growled, his feet widening into a fighting stance. 

You looked around, frantic to find a way to diffuse the situation. The last thing you wanted was to make a scene in front of all these people. Especially one that looked like two men were fighting over you. Toma squared his shoulders and started lifting the cuff of his long sleeve shirt. 

“We’re leaving,” you said to Genma over your shoulder. 

He looked back at Toma, who interrupted whatever he was planning to say to you. “No the fuck you’re not. I told you I wanted to talk to you and I’m going to fucking do just that,”

You pushed a little on Genma who got the hint and the two of you started to back up off of the dance floor. “I’m not listening to whatever it is. You had your chance to say your piece,”

His eyebrows could have hit his hairline with how far they raised. “Oh, is that right? When all you do is avoid me and then you’re with your little fuckbuddies whenever I can actually talk? No, just you and me are going to have a conversation,”

His eyes shone dangerously in the low bar lighting. You knew he wasn’t a real threat. Physically, he never was and never could outmatch you in hand to hand combat, but your heart hammered all the same. You weighed your options. If you could get him outside of the door you could -

“Genma!” A shrill voice called from behind the two of you. 

Both your heads whipped around and Toma snickered. Genma’s girlfriend stood there, fuming red, her cell phone clutched in her hand so tightly the knuckles were white. “This better not be what I think this is. I’ve called you twelve times. Twelve, asshole!” 

The only thing you could think was: This is a shitshow.

“Hailey, honey, I’m sorry! I told you I was catching up with an old friend tonight, though,”

“This is too much,” you said to yourself. 

Genma had fully turned around so you slipped past him on the other side and made a beeline for the door. You hoped Toma was too distracted by whatever was about to go down to notice. You slipped through the door as other patrons were entering and started making long strides. The squelch of footsteps in the slush behind you told you that you hadn’t escaped like you had hoped. 

“Not so fast,” he said lowly, quickly catching up to you. 

His tone sent a shiver down your spine. With venom you spit out, “I’m listening. What do you want?”

Toma wasn’t aware of where your home was located, so you made the decision to head in a familiar direction. You didn’t slow your pace, just waited for him to start now that he had completely caught up with you. 

“You never listened to me. Not once when we were together. It was always about you. Every single thing,” He started, and you smell the alcohol wafting from him in the cold night air. 

You almost faltered in your steps, but didn’t let your surprise show. You still felt some effect of the alcohol, even though you had started to sober, so you allowed yourself a small mental win over that. You said nothing so he continued on. And on, and on. You started approaching the woods when he was finished on his spiel about how conceited you were and how he gave every part of himself to the relationship. 

“You never wanted to have sex with me. Just admit it, you were cheating. I promise I won’t get too mad,” 

You scoffed, entering the woods and picking up your pace. You were at nearly a jog now. All you wanted was Obito right now. He could make you feel okay and Toma would leave you alone, or at least couldn’t cross the barrier and harass you outside the front door. 

“I never cheated on you,”

“You did,” His voice raised slightly, shoving a branch away from his face. 

“I didn’t,”

“You did. I know it. Just tell the truth,”

“I never cheated on you, not once. Why can’t you just accept that that’s the truth?” You huffed. 

He was quiet for a moment and you could tell he was struggling to catch his breath. “Why else wouldn’t you want to have sex with me? There has to be another man.”

“Maybe it’s because I told you I didn’t want to have sex over and over and you forced yourself on me anyway? Ever think about that?” You fully looked at him for the first time since the walk began.

“I never fucking forced myself on you,” he argued, his volume rising.

“You sure as hell did. But you know what, I’ve done a lot of fucking work and I’m healed from it, so just fuck off and leave it alone,”

“You’re fucking crazy and a liar. You’re just saying that because you hate me,”

You were getting so close to the barrier you could feel the chakra radiating from it. “Toma, I don’t hate you, because I can’t bring myself to give that amount of energy to you,”

“You’re so full of yourself,”

You didn’t respond. You were almost there, and then you could leave the conversation for good. Or at least until he wasn’t drunk. He was really starting to piss you off with all of his shit.

“Look at me,” he growled. 

You didn’t respond. The tip of your shoe hit the barrier and relief started washing over you. Toma grabbed your upper arm and ripped you away from it. 

“I said, ‘Look at me’!” He yelled. 

In that moment you felt like the trapped animal you had been, terrified to leave for the safety of your son and your own livelihood, backed into a corner as he berated you and made you feel worthless. Less than a person. You froze for a millisecond, taking in his red, angry face when an instinct took over you faster than you could think. 

His next words fell on deaf ears as the crack of your knuckles met with cheekbone. He crumpled to his side as you scurried across the barrier, tripping over your own feet. The front door to the cottage opened and the cleared walkway was illuminated by the lamplight from inside. Obito stood in the doorway, a hulking shadow.

He called out to you, confusion lacing his tired voice. He took a step further out of the house. 

“Obito!” you cried out, relief saturating your tone. 

“What’s going on?” He walked out quickly, alarmed that you were rushing towards him. 

You buried yourself in his arms just as Toma screamed, “You bitch!” from behind the barrier.

The concern he was looking at you with was flipped immediately into something dark. He looked over your head at Thoma, who angrily beat his fist against the invisible barrier. “Why is he here?”

“He was at the bar Genma and I went to and wouldn’t leave me alone. He followed me here. He probably thought I would end up taking him to my apartment so he could harass me some more,” You uttered quietly.

Obito stiffened, and then squared his shoulders. He gently pushed you to the side and approached the edge of the barrier. “Leave,” he called out.

“Or what?” you heard Toma sneer, his hand cupping his cheek.

“Or I’ll make you,” 

Toma took a step back but didn’t make any other move to go. “What are you gonna do? Huh?”

Obito waited wordlessly for him to follow his directive. He was taller and wider than Toma. If he thought Obito could walk through the barrier, intimidation would be the only thing he needed.  

“Who the fuck are you, anyway? Her boyfriend? How are my sloppy seconds?” 

You could feel the rage trickling into Obito’s chakra signature. He growled darkly, “Don’t talk about her,”

You went to stand next to him again, not sure what he would do, but ready to drag him inside. Toma looked like he was itching to have his teeth knocked out with the way he was grinning. “So you are the new boyfriend,”

“Doesn’t matter either way, it’s not your business,” you stated. “Let’s go, Obito,”

“Ohhh, so your name’s Obito… Why does that sound familiar? He someone you used to fuck? Maybe he’s the one you cheated on me with,” 

A sinister grin spread across Obito’s lips. “You’ve heard of me,”

Confusion started to creep onto Toma’s features. “You think you’re special or something? Who’s he, some shinobi?”

The look on your face answered his question. “So you think you’re bigger and better than me because you did, what? Save a kitten and get a shout out from the Hokage? Think you’re -”

“Obito Uchiha. That’s who I am. And if you recall, people won’t remember me for saving a kitten,” he kept his voice an octave low, and the sound of it chilled the air around the three of you. 

It took Toma all of two seconds for recognition to cross his features and the color to drain from his face. He looked at you with wide eyes. “You’re joking. You must- You have to be joking,”

You shook your head. 

“You can’t leave this barrier, so you can’t hurt me,” Toma said suddenly. Words to comfort himself. 

Obito’s sinister grin only widened. “Can’t I?”

You saw the red tomoe appear in his dark eyes, glowing in the dark night. They swirled into place, and Toma’s jaw dropped, along with yours. You didn’t think you would ever have the chance to see the Uchiha’s signature jutsu again after Kakashi lost his, and you were reminded why it was so terrifying. The way the Sharingan fit an Uchiha felt like a display of raw power. 

“Leave, and don’t ever come back. Don’t speak her name again, don’t look at her, don’t presume to speak to her about anything other than your son, or I’ll make you wish you had never been born,”

Toma stumbled backwards and ran. You could hear him stumbling over wet roots and leaves. You would laugh if you weren’t also intimidated by the man next to you. 

Obito turned to you and the red swirled away. “Are you okay?” 

You nodded, staring up at him. He scratched the back of his head, his eyes downcast. He flicked them back up to you. “I’m really sorry you had to see that… Do you want to come inside?”

You cleared your throat. “Please,”

Part XXII

Taglist: @mostlyunsure, @humongousdreamlandbear, @ichaichahatake, @mandy-yeager, @detectivestucks, @faces-ofvenus

[mortallyandrogynoussheep]

another few days update

you would think i would get my stuff together for the one week time mark, but no, lol. i didn't like wednesday at all, i had bad pains and again didn't do that much productivity wise. so, let's get to summarizing.

7/100 days of getting my life back together

Tuesday, July 9, 2024

didn't study that much overall. my stomach decided to completely obliterate me, so i just gave up. i tried waking up early, but i think i ended up sleeping in. again

16:25 - 17:00 18:34 - 19:10 then i cleaned until 20:05 23:25 - 00:22

8/100 days of getting my life back together

Wednesday, July 10, 2024

really unproductive day, but hold on tight to your pants. it gets worse tomorrow. i did some exercises, that will be the first task on the exam, it went mostly quite good, actually, but i do want to do more of those and i still have some gaps in this area. other than that - not much else. did some notes at the end and that was it. what hapenned?

15:14 - 16:36 16:51 - 17:15

that day I think i also had the first since months time, when i couldn't fall asleep immediately, because i started to have panic attack/mental breakdown. it used to be almost daily few months ago, but kind of stopped eventually, and on that day it happened again. i had visuals of my old home and the home of my godmother, where i sometimes would stay for weeks, and started crying uncontrollably. anyways :D the day was over.

i watched the video about dinosaurs and it made me want to draw some dinosaurs. so, here's that, lol. watch the video, by the way, if the topic sounds interesting to you, the guy is really funny.

9/100 days of getting my life back together

Thursday, July 11, 2024

~It got worse~

I slept the whole days, fellas. I managed (mostly because of my incredibly helpful boyfriend trying to support me :')) to wake up at about 11, stayed awake for maybe half an hour to an hour, and then just fell asleep. and slept the whole day, basically. i think i ended waking up at about 7 pm, did some miscellaneous things, had a long ass mental breakdown, crying more than my pride could take, and then went to bed.

L + ratio + skill issue

10/100 days of getting my life back together

Friday, July 12, 2024

But you know what? I feel quite hopeful for today. I woke up fully at about 9:30, had my coffee and cigarette (kids do NOT smoke), cleaned up my studying space, which took a lot MORE than i expected, but now I'm ready to study. i am quite sleepy, but I have to just get myself together and do it. you know, maybe all those failures are okay, because at least i keep trying. eventually one of those tries does succeed in one way or another.

10:50 - 12:42 pages 20-56 in DB5 13:15 - 15:36 finished SE4, 56-82 DB5 then i cooked some food, took a shower and rested for a bit 17:30 - 18:20 FINALLY done with DB5

18:50 - 20:00 finished SE5

I cannot express how happy I am to be finally done with this DB 5 lecture. i also calculated the overall amount of slides i should go over, it came up to 374 of them, which comes to about 30 slides a day if i want to finish everything like one day before the exam lol. anyway. tummy hurty but we must persist

[babypeanu-t]

Posting this for accountability to myself HEHE will keep adding to this until I finish writing all my thoughts down hehe yay me

--

Writing about Collen is not easy. I get so many words jumbled because my brain is not just wired right anymore. It's so hard to write, for fuck's sake, everyone who writes knows that.

And for all the feelings involved in this, I don't think there are enough words to convey how I truly feel. But we'll try today.

We fought a whole lot the last week and personally, it was a particularly hard battle to go through. I even wrecked my phone last Thursday night, so that made it impossible for me to recover faster. The phone was valuable to me as it contained my whole relationship with Collen. Granted I backed up some of the online files and other photos/videos, but most of the screenshots and screen recordings and other photos I hold dear are still in the internal memory - I was devastated to say the least.

-- Friday

But Friday came and though I wanted to get my phone fixed and my dogs groomed, my resolve was that I had to see Collen because honestly, at this point, that's the only thing that will probably help with my mental wellness. So I went to the office where she was working overtime.

Goddamn, I felt so guilty for not being okay because she was extra sweet. She was trying her best to keep me afloat (and even fed huhu) despite how busy she was. There are a lot of days like that now that I don't feel like I have a hold on myself anymore but she keeps me sane as best she can given our circumstances.

We even went out that night with a friend, but I loved that small adventure I had with her. I feel bad sometimes that I'm not rich or capable enough that we commute when coming home to our place, but I'm thankful she goes to these adventures with me too.

Friday was amazing, I felt like a huge chunk of what I was bringing left me. Collen is wonderful, she tries her darndest, and I love that so much about her. I am a fucking pain in the ass most days, and she still keeps up with me, I don't know how she does it.

-- Saturday

I'm thankful I got to spend the night with her. I've spent a whole lot of nights with her the last two months. I've been over at their place the last I don't know how many weeks now and though I've loved spending time with her at their place and bonding with her family, this is the only time for a long time, Vietnam excluded, that we have had private moments alone.

It's been the same routine every time she sleeps over - it's a struggle to wake her up what more a little early lmao. Granted we have sponty plans for the day to watch UAAP basketball games at the MOA Arena, so it was a must that I wake her up earlier than planned. But I loved this weird routine I have with her, it's the loud yet comfortable silence with a few random conversations in between that I really enjoy.

On to lunch, and I don't think I have ever felt this with anyone else - that swelling of happiness I feel whenever I see her talk to my parents about anything and everything. I've always been really talkative and I guess I get that from both my parents, so seeing her entertain all that talk without skipping a beat is just touching for me. We almost didn't make it out the house since both of them were really just not out of stories to tell her.

After our brief lunch with the parents, we had to commute to the Arena in my hopes of making it at least halfway through the UST game. I was so guilty since I didn't manage our time well and of course we were gonna be late already, but she was just pushing through the commute with me, even if she was already tired and commute-sweaty and a bit sleepy since I forgot to offer her coffee at home (as a non-coffee enthusiast, I MUST remember this na talaga!!!). We got to the Arena - and man the suite! a must to experience really - at least halfway through the game which UST lost, but it was a fun game to watch. We stayed there for another game during which I had fun just randomly conversing and making fun of other people and being all serious and cheering with her. I have always enjoyed any time I spend with her, but just being/feeling young again with little worries in the world makes it a tad better.

Our adventure didn't stop there for we had another commute back to Trinoma to catch a movie - A Very Good Girl! a must-watch, honestly! Kathryn is a fucking revelation. I have been badgering her to watch this on a movie date since the teaser trailer came out, and I honestly already forgot because of how long it's been, but she remembered and asked me out to watch after the game; extremely touched she did as I already let go of the idea. Anyway, we did commute back to Quezon City - during which a pervert on the train kept looking at her and that made me really pissed hay fucking perverts talaga! - and rushed through our ~sponsored~ dinner date just to be able to catch the film. I enjoyed that sponty date with her, even when it was such a hassle commuting everywhere and just trying to make time.

Truthfully, I enjoy any time I get to spend time with her especially when we go on dates outside. Much as all of our house dates are really fun, going out with her feels like a quick refresh on everything that's been happening within our relationship and our individual lives as well. Collen is such a bright ball of sunshine and I could honestly use that a lot more these days. Most days I feel like just being with her heals my inner child and helps with some of my adult traumas somehow and I'm so thankful I have her.

-- Sunday

Sunday was a reset of sorts. We had the whole day to ourselves and we just spent it being together - talking, having fun, resting, watching, spending some time with my parents and the dogs. As usual, we got up a little too late and spent too much couple time in my room alone that my dad teased us once we got downstairs that it's already too late that we're having breakfast, lunch, and dinner in just one meal. She was also so excited to make her own coffee that day, even watched so many videos on Youtube just to perfect it.

Gonna add to this some moreeee

-- Monday

[spherarium]

Personal log:

Friday: I went in field trip. It was interesting, but I walked under the sun for several hours and felt really tired. I went to the water treatment plant, it smelled kind of bad but not as bad as I expected. I saw an animal corpse floating on the water. It was interesting but also sad. I live on a bad country, they told us is not unusual to find human bodies. I don't want to be one of the bodies on the black waters.

I saw many spiders and it was really cool. I found animal eggs and bugs. That was on our second stop.

We went to the hotel, I was tired, but we had to do a presentation and stay for other teams' presentations. I started feeling cold and sleepy. I started to fell asleep and wake up quick and scared. I wrote dying would be easier, I don't want to die but life is really difficult. I oversaw what my friend was writing. He was having suicidal thoughts too (I guess mine were suicidal thoughts although I'm not sure). I don't want him to die. I didn't told him I saw part of what he was writing. I tried to daydream. I started to imagine how would I modified the room to make it a shelter or playground. I stopped listening other things.

The presentations were finally over. We were able to relax. We went to the room and shared experiences and the went to sleep.

Saturday: We went to the mines. On the morning I ate some tacos. I think they might have been the cause to me being sick. Some dogs followed us. I really liked the mines and the mine-worker hospital-museum. There were bunnies at the hospital, and there was an old house. The workers had a picture of the ghost of a dutch lady that die there. They say she appears at the house

I brought calcite, succulents, and a collar for my mom home.

Since the morning, I have pain. Is the pain a doctor said is fibromyalgia, but the psychiatrist said is anxiety. It was strong and walking hurt, but I'm used to it so I dealt with it.

Once we visited the last stop I start feeling really tired and sleepy. We arrived and I needed to go to the bathroom but didn't want to stop at the subway's bathrooms. I went on the bus and I was falling asleep. I arrive home. I hadn't showered in two days so I needed a shower but I didn't wanted to. I showered and then I went to sleep.

Sunday:

I woke up early in the morning, in pain. I have a really bad headache and I feel dizzy and nauseous. I try to throw up, I don't. I go back to sleep.

I wake up when my mom arrives from work. We talk. I go back to sleep.

I wake up late, feeling worst. The headache is strong and really bad. The light hurts way more than usual. The noises hurt way more than usual. I try to get up but everything is hurting. I go back down. My mom brings me an apple and coffee. We talk to my grandma. They think is a migraine. They both have migraines and they feel similar when they do. I tell my mom everything. About the anxiety and the thoughts about death being easier.

I stay in bed most of the day. I took an Alka Seltzer and feel better from my stomach. I have food and my mom leaves. I read my physics magazine. When I go out to walk with the dogs, I feel dizzy. I return. I am scared the seismic alarm will sound and I won't be able to get it the house. I go to sleep. I wake up at night, nauseous and dizzy. My head only hurts if I move it too much. I stay awake. I go to the bathroom and feel dizzy. I try to throw up. I took another Alka Seltzer. I'm still awake, is Monday now. My classmates will put a complaint against the teacher that made us do the presentation. I won't go to the statistics class. I will go to the psychiatrist at 9:30 am. I hope he can help.

[voguekiss111]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚...𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆.

Hey pretty girls how are you then? I hope well in this post I will teach you how to be a healthy pretty girl who is healthy do your yoga , skin care , exercise , keep a healthy eating , is a model of the duffy , meditates , reads , hydrates , go for a walk, and do your self care.

This past week i went down to do this project to keep my routine healthy i already had this habit this time I organized it in a vacation glow up project. This project is inspired by It girl aesthetic , model of the duffy , pink pilates girl , and green juice girl.

SUNDAY: self care day so hydrate your hair, take a nice shower, drink water and do your skin care.This day is a day for relaxation so read watch something for example vogue beauty secrets.

MONDAY: wake up, do your skin care I recommend washing your face with some soap like glycerin and apply your sunscreen, after that have your coffee particularly I love oatmel and it's super healthy , after make your journal with personal growth questions if you want I can share some with you, there are also clean your room/habitant , have a nutritious lunch and eat vegetables , then ice your face seriously this is a great trick it's great for the skin you can take a pot and put ice water and dip your face for 15 to 15 seconds or even put ice stones on your face but you have to be careful not to burn the skin so use a cloth of preference, after that your pores will be closed and looking better you can read or watch some series, I love to read so I take a moment in the afternoon and read for about 40 minutes you can eat something too or even drink something very important is that during this project we have to drink at least 2 liters of water a day to keep healthy, after that I like to watch the sunset then open your bedroom window or even go somewhere where you have peace and watch the sunset this is a way of a m meditate and after that do your exercise , just like move your body do yoga or pilates, take a shower just to cleanse your body and relax watching tv or even here on Tumblr , eat something healthy and protein and do your skin care, read some more and sleep.

TUESDAY: On Tuesdays I don't do anything very different I like to keep this routine of habits and add some leisure things since I'm on vacation but on Tuesday I put on a night face mask, watch pretty little liars and eat bananas.

WEDNESDAY:Good Wednesday is smoothie day I love smoothie and you can make it from different fruits like banana, apple, strawberry I love to add supplement also like whey protein and I add vanilla with milk and it's ready, I do the usual after breakfast and in the afternoon I did a little self care I wrote in my diary , washed my hair and let it dry naturally as I'm a model it's not very good to always dry with hot things so I didn't use a hairdryer , I also spent time on pinterest and meditated.

THURSDAY: So i was very productive i kept my routine of habits and watched the devil wears prada i really love this movie and i think all girl bloggers should watch it,I also exercised and read Evelyn Hugo's 7 Husbands.

FRIDAY: ok this day wasn't one of the best days to start with because I was on pms so it wasn't very easy to deal with emotions and I also cried a lot watching stranger things, and we like pretty girls we should know that it's normal to have pms and that it's often not easy to deal with our feelings so i cried a lot more then i kept doing my thing something that helps me went to make my newspaper and browse pinterest listening to music and doing skin care.

[onlycodcanjudgeme]

Fic Exchange Friday

Over the past week, you’ve sent us your highlights of fics to show off, and looked forward to reading and reviewing new fics buried deep in the pile of the Cal of Duty fanfic archives. And we have made it our mission to collect and compile them all for your convenience. Now—the moment you have all been waiting for!

Drumroll… 🥁 🪘

The Big Fic Exchange Friday!

available to you by OnlyCODCanJudgeMe

Thank you to everyone who participated in this experimental event! We hope you'll find some new fics to fall in love with, and we’d love to hear if you’re interested in seeing this event again in the future!

Without further ado: please enjoy our masterlist of fanfics galore!

@alidravana

Wednesday Pick Me Up — When the Green Team takes over running the coffee canteen at the Santa Monica base, a particular blonde barista catches Keegan’s eye…and maybe his heart. We Break So Beautiful — An exploration of the importance of touch in Mitchell's and Gideon's continuously evolving relationship. Partners in Crime — AKA 3+1 times Logan was completely oblivious, and the one time even he couldn’t miss the signs in front of him. Waiting on that Morning Sun — While Keegan lays wide awake at night, Logan wrapped around him like a cuddly octopus, he reflects on the changes in his life since Logan Walker appeared in it. The Sky Burns Red — Against all odds, Roach and Ghost make it out of the pit.

@mikk1n

The Plagued Capital — After his death in Prague, Soap MacTavish wakes up in a city both alien and familiar. He stumbles across a pub and a conspiracy. Watered Elixir — Plague breaks out on a ship bound for Karnaca. As luck would have it, Makarov falls ill.

@samatedeansbroccoli

Scale of Fear — Verdansk saw a dragon, but Woods only saw a man in pain. Dragon!Adler x Woods. Shabbat Meal — Having taken up a job as a Death Row cook, Lazar talks to Sims about the past. Tili Tili Bom — After Solovetsky, Belikov ensures Bell gets the best care away from prying CIA eyes. Belikov/Bell if you squint. Together — When the odds are stacked against him, Édouard Conteau finds an unlikely ally to help him out. Ghost/Templar if you squint.

@samithemunchkin

I had a thousand bad times, so what’s another time to me? — Mitchell knew, deep down, that in his situation none of that mattered. He was about as unfit for duty as a toddler. Or, the beginning of fics following Mitchell and Gideon's life after the fall of Atlas

@satan-incarnate-666

Fall Into the Sky — A set of angsty Modern Warfare Two oneshots!! i can't believe how far we have come — A feel-good 141-shot (get it? im hilarious really) with lots of found family fun!! I'm Almost Me Again, She's Almost You — Mason/Woods post-Black Ops One angst ft. baby David and Mrs. Mason!! Hold On, My Dear, I'm Coming Home — Post-canon hurt/comfort for the Modern Warfare 2019 ensemble!! Heaven And Hell Were Words To Me — MW2 But They're A Bunch Of Immortals au!! Features Ghost/Roach/Soap; Currently on hiatus but I'm writing for it again!!

@tokillamockingbird427

Placeholder — A "What if..?" scenario set in the COD: Ghosts universe where Rorke, the antagonist of the cannon uni, and Elias, the protagonist's father, are swapped. Results in many interesting and tear jerking hijinks. (The "What if..?" being: "What if Elias was the one to fall instead of Rorke?").

@weavergrigori

Operation Greenlight, Redlight — Takes place after the duga ending, in a timeline where things can somehow get far worse than just nukes in europe. It's heavily zombies focused but has a strong link to the bo1 and bocw campaign !

[kuroos-babie]

falling in love with a single mom hcs

INCLUDES: nishinoya, tsukishima, yaku

you spent a good part of your childhood with nishinoya, chasing away the dogs that had a penchant of scaring your best friend shitless, climbing trees and playing treasure hunt

it was funny, to say the least, seeing how he grew from such a scaredy-cat to the energetic and confident noya everyone knows

throughout highschool you watched him chase girl after girl and he watched you turn down guy after guy

the dynamic you two had was that of a feral gremlin child and its chill owner holding the leash and everyone, including you two, thought you would always be together

everyday was fun with nishinoya's energy hanging around you, no doubt

but when he asked you to travel the world with him right after graduation, he was met with a hesitant refusal

"i'm planning to go to college, yuu"

"it'll be fun, y/n! like going on an adventure!!"

"visit me once in a while"

his heart clenched at the way you smiled at him with teary eyes, "i can't change your mind can i?"

with a soft shake of your head, he sighed

he leaves in three days

the first few months of him being away were filled with calls and pictures of his trips, smile seemingly wider and brighter than before and a part of you regretted not coming with him

but college starts in a week, and with that came missed calls and ignored messages

at some point, neither of you just remembered to hit the other up, caught up with the stresses of your own life and before either of you knew it, 5 years have passed

he came to visit home for the first time in years, no longer the boyish noya you knew but he still had that warm aura around him

you were the first thought to come to mind the moment he step foot in town, his whole body buzzing with excitement at the mere thought of seeing you again

so of course he went straight to your house, feet taking step after memorized step and hands clutching bags of things he got from his travels

"Y/N!!!!!", he calls out as he enters your house which was answered with a harsh shushing

turning a corner he saw you in the living room, lovely as ever-- he thought, and with a baby sleeping soundly in your arms, "the baby's sleeping, yuu"

"whose...?"

you laughed at the cracking in his voice, "mine, who else's?"

man, he looked like he was about to cry

he quietly approached you, careful as to not wake the baby

"for you", he mumbled while handing you the bag of snacks and stuff

the room was filled with silence after you hummed a short thanks

he was looking at the child's face, it looked like you, he thinks

he asked when you got married, "you didn't tell me, didn't even invite your best friend to your wedding", he whined

"i didn't, i'm not married"

his eyes were wide as they looked at you

you told him about getting pregnant shortly after college graduation and getting ditched

he thought of himself selfish as he heaved a sigh of relief

"it's fine though, my parents are helping me a lot", he notes how you looked at your baby with such fond eyes and his heart swelled, he felt like crying

you chuckled at the look on his face, "hey don't look so sorry for me, can't be happier to have her"

"what's her name?"

you looked at your daughter's face and pet at her cheek with a finger, "yui"

nishinoya couldn't hold it in anymore and so he let himself cry and pulled you close

and for the nth time since the day of your college graduation he asked you again, "come with me, y/n, let's travel the world" but you have a child "i'll stay with you here until she's old enough", he said while kissing the tears that slipped down your cheeks

"then we can all go travel the world together"

he liked working at the museum, he really does

at least that's what he tries to tell himself as he led the group of preschoolers through the sendai museum

they were cute, yeah, but also very chatty

especially this one little boy with the frog hat

"what's this called?"

"it's a fossilized remain of--"

"how about this one?"

"it's--", and before he could answer, the child was already running to the other side of the exhibit

he just sighs

the tour ended and he was getting ready for his lunch break, proceeding to the cafe by the entrance as he always does

his eyes almost caught the flurry of green that passed beside him but he chose to ignore it

but of course it wasn't long after he sat down with his order when he heard a familiar bubbly voice

"mama that's the dinosaur guy!", he heard the little boy whisper loudly, "he's so tall, like a brachiosaurus!"

he couldn't supress the chuckle at the child's remark and he turned in his seat, "so you were listening, i thought you were just bouncing all around the place"

"oh sorry, did he give you a hard time?"

your voice drew his attention and he smiled at the sight of your worried face, something that surprised even him, "not really, no"

he invited you two to sit and eat with him and he listened to your son ramble all about dinosaurs and prehistoric animals

"a smart one, i like him"

your son really liked him too and asked you to take him to the museum again and see tsukishima

and so it became a habit for you to visit the museum every friday with the little boy, waiting for the tall blonde to get off work so you three could grab something to eat

and every time he sees you in the little cafe by the entrancne with your son, tsukishima couldn't help but smile a little and pat at his chest to calm the subtle fluttering as he push the door open

it was a weird feeling he never knew would come so naturally at the mere sight of you two

he bought your son picture books and and figurines and copies of the "walking with dinosaurs" documentary

"we should watch it this weekend..." his eyebrows shot up for a moment at your meek suggestion

of course the little boy was elated, excited to have him over at your house "yes! let's go now! i wanna watch it with tsukki now!!!"

tsukishima returned his gaze on you, "if it's not too much trouble then i'd love to go now"

and so the rest of the friday night was spent on your couch with all the lights turned off and a narration of al the allosaurus' life

you looked over at the other side of the couch to see your son laying on tsukishima, eyes fluttering shut with the man passed out and lightly snoring

he must've been tired

you draped a blanket over the two of them and waited for sleep to visit you too and it soon did

morning came and you woke up to the smell of coffee

"i borrowed your coffee maker, i hope you don't mind", his voice was still low, trying not to wake the little boy

"yeah, sorry i didn't wake you up last night... you looked tired"

he chuckled as you walked over to the kitchen to take out two mugs and prepared some toast, "i don't mind, it was the best sleep i've gotten in a while. i hope it wasn't too much of a bother for you though"

you leaned on the kitchen counter as you took in his appearance; hair ruffled and eyes puffy with sleep, "i don't mind it one bit"

he huffed a laugh and looked over to the sofa where your son still laid

"he likes you a lot"

"so it seems, i hope you do too", his face was smug but you didn't miss the red that tinted his cheeks when you told him "of course i do, in fact i was thinking maybe we should do this more often"

his smirk grew, "just say you want to wake up everyday to the sight of me and leave it at that"

you rolled your eyes at his comment but smiled nonetheless, "oh shut up"

he had just come back from the nekoma volleyball team reunion, head lightly buzzing from the few bottles of alcohol kuroo forced down his throat

making his way through the carpeted hotel hall, he could barely make out the sound of little feet hurriedly padding on the floor and quiet sniffles

taking out the keycard to his room with the blissful thoughts of finally sinking into the soft mattress was interrupted by a soft bump on his thigh, a muffled thud and a small "ow..."

it took a few moments before the sight of the little boy on the hotel floor registered properly in his brain

it was well past 2 am... why the hell is there a child running around the halls

"uh... hi?"

big bright eyes looked up at him and he can't help but sigh at the sniffles increasingly growing louder

"where's your mama, little guy?", yaku crouched to the little boy's level, careful to keep his balance as the booze and exhaustion was catching up to him

however, at the mention of his mother, the little boy's eye filled up with more tears and was ready to burst anytime, "mama..."

"oh no no no no"

yaku's too tired for this

so with a sigh and a groan, he took the boy in his arms and entered his room

"let's look for her in the morning, okay? i think i still have some cookies in my room, would like some?"

the little boy nods his head, earning a relieved sigh from yaku

the rest of the night was spent with cartoons playing on the large hotel room tv, yaku leaning against the headboard with the little boy snoozing away while being tucked in his arm, cookie on his hand and crumbs all around

morning came and panic surged through your body the moment you realized your 3 year-old son was nowhere inside your hotel room

your hurried to the security desk to report and hopefully make an announcement, head reeling and aching with the sudden rush of adrenaline first thing in the morning

with your head in your hands, you let out a groan while trying not to cry at all the possibilites flashing through your mind

your wallowing was cut short with an "excuse me, i found this child last night"

turning your head back to the security desk, you see a man in his pajamas and slippers, hair ruffled from sleep and a sleepy little boy laying on his shoulder

"oh my god"

the whole conlict ended when you came up to them and introduced yourself, the little boy quickly recognizing your voice and whipped his head over to you, "mama!"

your son reached out for you and yaku couldn't help but notice how pretty your glossy eyes were despite how disheveled you looked

"mama, yakkun gave me cookies and we watched cartoons aaaaall night!"

yaku's eyes widened at the little boy's words and let out a nervous chuckle, "you make me sound so suspicious"

he turned to you and explained how your son bumped into him at 2 am and he was just too tired to bring him down to the security desk

"my tired tipsy brain thought it was a better idea to just let him sleep in my room and look for mama in the morning", he ended with the tips of his ears tinged red

you laughed at his nervousness, "well we can talk more about it over breakfast, what do you say yakkun? my treat"

with the way you were smiling at him, how could he even refuse?

the rest of the morning was spent with coffee and waffles, juice and fruits and chatter

he learned you and your son were in town for a few days, "i wanted to go see the fishies in the aquarium!", the little boy quips

with the new volleyball season just around the corner, yaku knew he'd have practices but he offered to tour you two around tokyo

he wanted to see you two again

briefly taking care of the toddler last night and having breakfast with you, he realized, were very much a welcomed change of pace in his hectic pro volleyball life

"are you my dad? mama told me daddy was working in tokyo" he remembered your son quietly mumbling last night, "i haven't seen him though, not ever"

the rest of your stay in tokyo was spent hanging out with yaku, your son growing more and more attached to him and slept over at his room every night

as promised, he took you and your son on a tokyo tour and even brought you to practice, introducing you to the national team and teaching your child receives

of course your trip eventually reached its end, promises of meeting again drowned in the little boy's tears as he tried to reach out to yaku

"we'll meet again, little guy", he says while ruffling the boy's hair, "i'll even go visit you and we'll play lots, okay?

of course he made a point of contacting you frequently, often video chatting during meal times and bedtime and a few more hours after, relishing in the time he could spend talking alone with you

"i can't wait to see you two again", he always says right after "good night"

taglist: @churochuu @bakarinnie @faithieeee @strawberriimilkshake @paulazockt @pattys-got-cakes @hidden-otaku-stuff @haikyuubabie @sachirou-senpai @your-local-abyss @stcrryskies @toosaltyforacookie @mrs-kuroojinguji @shawkneecaps @miyastrology @galacticstxrdust @wakaushi @boosyboo9206 @sugawara-sweetheart @threeconsecutivefs @chichibia @diyosku @curiouslilbeast @cowbeboppy @tsukkaria @yyvveess @kirakirasaku

✨send an ask to be added/removed✨

[chocolateheart]

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

Tag list is open! :)

If something is not working, you weren’t on the tag list even if you wanted to, you can’t send an ask or you didn’t receive the notification about me tagging you in any of my fics, please contact me in DM’s.

Tag list: @deanwanddamons @jay-and-dean @katehuntington @winchest09 @talesmaniac89 @roonyxx @bunkerconfessions @akshi8278 @snffbeebee @lady-pswrld @rvgrsbrns​ @polina-93 @teresa-67 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @mrspeacem1nusone @flamencodiva @cutiecowgirl @waywardbaby @flashxspn @lyarr24

[endorspeaches]

We Can Just Talk (Part 5)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: some crying. some fluff. you know the usual.

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers, Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: You receive a letter from Steve. A whirlwind of emotions is just the beginning.

Listen with: City Lights - Austin Farwell

Masterlist

You wake up abruptly to the sound of your alarm. You reach over with your eyes still closed. You feel around for your phone. You bring it to your face and open one eye and shut it off. You place it next to you on the bed. You lay there for a moment. You finally open your eyes and look over to the end of the bed. You can’t help but picture Steve laying there in your robe scrunching his face at you. It’s been a few weeks since you’ve heard from him.

“I need to stop.” you sit up.

You pull the blanket off and walk over to your window and pull back the curtain. You breathe in and breathe out before turning around and walking out of your bedroom out to the kitchen.

You reach the fridge and the drawing Steve gave you is there with a cow printed magnet holding it up. A small note you hadn’t noticed before on the edge of it reads *I will always come back to you*.

“Damn it Steve.” You rub your eyes before pulling the fridge door and grabbing the brita.

You pour water into the coffee machine and turn it on. You stand there with an empty stare at the backsplash before being snapped back into the room to your phone ringing.

You run to your bedroom throwing your blanket around till you grab your phone. It’s your new client.

“Hello?” you gasp.

“Hi Y/N, sorry to call you so early but I hope we can reschedule today? Something has come up.” The voice on the other end says.

“Yes, of course, Is everything ok?” You rush over to your desk

“Yes everything is ok, I didn’t remember my fiancé's surprise wedding brunch was today. I hope it’s ok to cancel so last minute.” Your client responds.

“It’s no problem Brian, it was just a lunch to go over the plans I had been emailing about. I like lunch plans just to be a bit formal but we can either reschedule or I can work out a Google doc to share with you guys and maybe schedule a phone call to go over it. I don’t want to pressure you into figuring all that out right now but let’s just make a placeholder appointment for now?” you set your phone on speaker as you wake up your computer.

“We can totally do lunch next week? For now, let’s just make an appointment and we can get back to you tomorrow if that’s ok?” He asks.

“We can totally do that, how does Friday or Saturday at 3 sound?” you say as you sit back in your desk chair.

“I’ll take Friday. I’ll talk to Claudia later tonight and get back to you tomorrow morning. Thank you so much talk to you soon.” He responds

“Alright have fun, talk to you later bye.” you end the call.

You sit back up and you type out *Lunch with Claudia and Brian @ 3*. You watch the text cursor blinking and begin to zone out again. When your downstairs buzzer goes off startling you.

"Who the hell could that be?" you walk over as the buzzer goes off again.

"Gees." you rush over

"Who is it?" you buzz down

"It's Natasha, we met a few weeks ago. Can we talk?" she replied.

"Yeah, umm come on up." you buzz her in

You begin to panic. * What happen? What's going on? Is Steve okay?*

You pace in the hall before catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

"Omg, I haven't even brushed my teeth," you mutter as you try to tame your bedhead.

Then there is a tap at the door. You take a deep breath before opening the door.

"Hi, come on in." you try to swallow the worry in your voice.

"I'm sorry if I woke you." she reaches over and pulls you into a hug

"Oh... No worries I've been up for a bit. I just got off a client call. I'm sorry you have to see me like this." you point down to your PJs.

"What's wrong with what you're wearing?" she shrugs

"I'm... I'm in pajamas Natasha," you smirk

"Even in pajamas you look amazing." she smiles.

"Thank you. Make yourself at home. Would you like some coffee?" you feel yourself getting hot.

"Yes, I'll take some." she sits on your couch.

You pour 2 cups and grab the sugar and creamer and walk to the couch.

"I wasn't sure how you like your coffee. What is it you want to talk about?" you try not to show your trembling hands.

"Thank you. It's about Rogers," she says before taking a sip of her coffee

Your heart sinks. You look at her in a panic.

"I'm sorry I don't mean to sound so ominous. I usually don't do favors, but I'll do just about anything for him to get a life." she sips her coffee again before setting it down.

"I'm sorry I don't understand. Is everything ok?" you ask

"Yes, Everything is okay. Rogers is fine. He just asked me to come to check on you. He can't make calls right now. I shouldn't be here either but if anyone can sneak around unseen it's me." she takes another sip.

"I was freaking out a bit," you reply

"He told me to not freak you out but I couldn't help myself." she smiles

"Yeah you got me good." you finally sip your coffee

"You won't hear much from us for a while. I don't know how much he told you, but we aren't the favorites of the world right now. We have to go into hiding for some time. He asked me to check on you, and bring you this." she hands you an envelope.

"I understand. Thank you for the risk you took to bring me this. Is there anything you need? Can I help?" you ask

"We will be ok, I can't carry anything. If you want to write him something I can make sure he gets it." she finishes her coffee.

"Um yes, omg how much time do I have?" you stand.

"Take your time, I'll let you know." she picks up her cup and the creamer and sugar.

"Thank you, Help yourself to whatever. I'll be quick." you walk to your desk.

"Anything? Because I really enjoyed that jacket you had on the day we met." she laughs.

"I thought you couldn't carry anything?" you look up from your desk.

"I wouldn't be carrying it, I'd be wearing it." she walks into your bedroom.

You sit at your desk staring at the paper in front of you.

"Steve,

I haven't read your letter yet. I don't know what to write. I know that it might be months maybe even years before I see or hear from you. God that settled way too quick in my head..."

You begin to tear up.

"... I miss you every day. I've caught myself staring off into space a lot lately. Funny enough my apartment doesn't feel right. I feel alone. I never did before. I know you spent a few days here but it felt like a lifetime. We didn't talk much about it but I think I have an idea of what kind of life we are signing up for. I'm for this life if you're for it to Steve. I wake up hoping to see you in my kitchen. Let's face it you wake up to damn early for me to find you in bed with me. Take care of yourself. I'd say come back in one piece but watching the news I just want you to come back to me alive. I miss you so much. Keep your promise.

Also, Natasha did in fact freak me out.

I miss you so much,

-Y/N"

"Don't I look great? " Natasha walks out of your room with your jacket and something in her hands.

"You look better than I did that's for sure." you fold your letter into an envelope.

"Here put that in there too." she hands you a picture of yourself.

"Omg, where did you find that." you look at the picture as you put it into the envelope.

"I had plenty of time to snoop. I do have to get going now." she reaches out for a hug again.

"Take care of yourself Y/N" she tightens her hug.

"You too Natasha." you take a deep breath.

She pulls away a reaches for your letter.

"Thank you for coming." you hand her the letter and begin walking to your front door.

"Of course. I'll see you around," she says closing the door behind her.

You walk back to your living room and see the letter on your desk. Your heart sinks back down. Your throat tightens up.

You pick up the letter and curl up on the couch. Your eyes begin to well up with tears. You look up to the ceiling and a stream slides down your cheek.

"Damn it, Steve," you mutter out.

You look at the unopen letter. You think about how much you need to get done today. Your morning was escaping you already. You still had to get dressed and get on to your workload for the day. A messy tearful cry wasn't something you were planning on today. You also had a meeting with another possible client, you couldn't possibly afford to meet them with puffy eyes. You placed the letter on your coffee table and proceeded with getting ready and under-eye patches.

As you grab your laptop off your desk and begin to stick it in your bag you catch a glimpse of the letter sitting on your coffee table. You wanted to rip it open in hopes that Steve would fall out of the envelope. You walk down the hall only to glance back at the letter before making it to the door. You take a deep breath and head out to start the day you're already running behind on.

-

Throughout the day you would remember the letter. You would panic at the thought of someone breaking into your apartment and taking the letter. You begin to worry about Steve and Natasha and them having to go into hiding. You become overwhelmed with worry so you dive right back into your work and try your best not to have a moment to think about the letter.

It was finally time to go back home. As you get in the back of your uber it began to rain.

"The rain was teasing us all day. It finally arrived." says the uber driver.

"Uh.. oh yeah perfect timing right?" you reply.

"It's just a little water, it ain't ever hurt nobody," they respond.

"I guess you're right." you chuckle.

The uber pulls up to your building. The view outside your window reminds you of the day you met Steve. Your stomach flips.

"Thank you," you say back to the Uber as you run up to your door.

You fumble your keys around until you finally make your way to the elevator. You look back at the glass door picturing Steve running back to you after asking his driver to leave.

*DING*

The elevator snaps you back to reality and you get on and press 6. Each floor dinging you closer and closer to the letter. Finally, you arrive at your floor. You freeze in the elevator.

"Why am I so nervous?" you mutter to yourself.

You enter your apartment, throw off your shoes, drop all your things on the kitchen counter, and get out of your work clothes. You're in the middle of washing your face when you force yourself to hurry up to get to the letter.

You open your curtains and the balcony doors to let the noise of rain fill your apartment. You sit on the couch and stare at the letter. You finally reach for it and tear it open.

"My Dearest Y/N,

I have stared at this blank page for a few days now. The days move along but the nights are always longer. I promised you I would come back to you. I meant every word I said to you in your apartment. I could never imagine a life without you. Honey- I miss you so much it makes me mad at the world sometimes. I try to figure out the why of this and that and how it got right in the middle of us getting into the swing of things. I have to stay away for some time. I don't know how long but there will come a day when we will be together again and then it will be forever after that. I see you in everything I do. It makes doing anything impossible. I doodle your name on anything I can get my hands on. I'm pretty sure Sam is getting tired of me. I imagine your pretty head on my arm every night or slow dancing in your kitchen. I miss watching you fall asleep listening to my never-ending stories. It's been raining where I am and gosh do I miss your pillows. I wish I could call you just to hear you laugh. Look I don't mean to make this difficult for you but I hope you wait for me. I don't want to be overconfident but something tells me you will.

Can I ask you a question, Why me?

(You can let me know when we see each other again)

Yours Forever,

Steve Grant Rogers."

You pressed the letter into your chest and let a tear stream down your face. You see something else in the envelope. It's a drawing. It's a sketch of a boat out on a body of water on the side of the boat it reads "Paul & Darlene".

"Damn it, Steve." you wipe the tears from your face

[swcetnight]

It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1

synopsis:

Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.

masterlist here

→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)

→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))

-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!

→ word count: 7,973

authors note:

alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!

authors thanks:

a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!

also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍

If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.

You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.

What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.

You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.

… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.

[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!

You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.

A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.

[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.

Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.

"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."

"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength."  Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."

Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.

With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."

A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.

You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.

“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”

This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.

Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.

You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.

Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.

"Y/n?"

You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.

The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-

“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.

"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.

You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"

Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.

"It's- It's Taehyung."

You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?

"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.

Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.

Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.

"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"

"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.

You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.

And then he’s gone.

“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.

“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.

“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”

“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.

“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”

“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.

“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”

He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.

You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”

Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.

“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”

You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”

The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.

Yeah… tomorrow.

Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.

It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.

Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.

"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.

"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.

"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).

"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"

With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"

"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.

"What??"

"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."

This sly guy.

"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).

“Jin.” Noted.

“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”

You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?

Well, you aren't.

"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.

"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."

You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.

A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”

Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.

The atmosphere is calm… quiet…

“BULLSHIT.”

The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.

"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.

"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.

"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.

"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.

When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.

“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”

“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.

“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.

“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.

“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.

“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.

“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.

“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.

“Taehyung!”

You freeze.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

"It's- It's-."

“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.

“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.

Okay.. you can’t help but look…

Holy—it’s actually him.

Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.

“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”

The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?

“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.

“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.

He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“

“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.

No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.

“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.

“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.

You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?

Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”

Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.

Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.

You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.

Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.

He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-

“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.

“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.

“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”

“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”

Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”

A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”

“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.

He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”

You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”

“Clean slate.” He finalizes.

“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”

He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”

Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.

Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.

It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.

For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.

But this is different.

This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.

Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.

It just happened.

He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.

Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.

He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.

"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.

“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”

An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”

“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?

With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.

Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.

You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.

Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-

“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?

“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”

He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”

“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”

You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.

You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“

“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“

You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.

This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.

“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.

“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”

“Three years.”

Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”

The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”

If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”

You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”

“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”

You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”

Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.

That was an achievement, right?

“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”

“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”

When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.

“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”

This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.

“You have passion.”

Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.

“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,

and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.

“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.

“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.

“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”

“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.

“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”

He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.

Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.

“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.

Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.

“I’m sorry?” You croak.

“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”

You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.

So, now you have his attention.

“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.

“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.

“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”

“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.

If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.

You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.

“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.

“He is.” Jimin counters.

“He’s not.”

“He so is.”

“He’s so not.”

“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.

“Taehyung is not-“

A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.

You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.

Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”

“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.

“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.

“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.

“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”

“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”

NEXT CHAPTER

enjoying this story? please be sure to like and reblog!! It would really help me out, and i would love to hear your thoughts and feelings regarding this work 🥺🤍 thank you for taking the time to read!!

taglist: @monvante @moonchild1 @strawverryxmilktae If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send in an ask!! 🤍

[calif0rnia-lovers]

#1: the proposal | plan b.

pairing: angel reyes x black!reader | chapter rating: 💙

total # of parts in series: 10

join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

I keep falling for boys and mistaking them for men

series sum: After several failed relationships, you decide that you’re over waiting for Mr. Right to come around and help start a family. In a drunken ramble, you ask your best friend if he’ll be your donor. You didn’t expect him to say yes. As you and Angel enter uncharted waters, you both realize neither of you fully thought the initial proposal through.

words: 1.8 K

What is it they say…hope breeds eternal misery.

Or, as Angel Reyes likes to say, “I don’t know why you’re wasting time on that asshole.”

Asshole is the nicest term you can dub your boyfriend--correction, your ex-boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend.

It’s strange how quickly two letters--a simple prefix--can change your life.

One minute, you’re joining your boyfriend and his family on a getaway to the beach. The next, you’re being kindly escorted out of a restaurant for tossing a drink in his face.

When you’d left Santo Padre Friday afternoon, you had a single thought in your mind. He’s finally going to propose. The nervous behavior, the talks about moving to a bigger apartment, him inviting you to a weekend getaway with his family.

How else would a rational person explain this behavior?

Well, according to Michael, all of those things do not add up to a proposal. They add up to “softening the blow."

As you sit on the curb waiting for your uber, with Michael's big splurge of the evening in hand--a bottle of Cabernet, you realize his explanation was complete bullshit. How is dragging you to Santa Monica for the weekend "softening the blow?" If he was going to break up with you, he could have done it in Santo Padre.

As you double-check the ETA on your uber, you remember.

Michael didn't drag you to Santa Monica to break up with you. He dragged you to Santa Monica to ask you to "take a break."

Apparently, there's a difference.

As Michael put it, with his birthday fast approaching, he'd had an epiphany. He needed time to "get out there" and "explore" his options.

"We're in our thirties," he'd explained. "We only have a few years left before we're expected to settle down, have kids. I think we should take this time to get everything out of our system, so by the time we come back together, we're ready to start that family you're always talking about."

The nervousness you'd seen the past two weeks? Had nothing to do with hiding a ring, or trying to find the perfect opportunity to pop the question. The nervousness was Michael trying to find the right time to ask you not to renew the lease of the apartment, you share, at the end of the month.

The talk about upgrading to a bigger apartment? Had nothing to do with having an extra room for the kid you've both talked about having. It was so that he could move in with his two best friends.

Michael’s epiphany left you in shock. You were caught between realizing the entire revelation wasn’t a complete joke and realizing you were expected to ride home with his family in the morning. The drink tossing didn’t come until Michael rubbed his hands together, a knowing smile sliding onto his face.

Taking your shocked silence as a lack of protest to his idea, Michael nodded over his shoulder. “You wanna head back up to the room...have some fun our last night together?”

The weight of Samantha--wait. No. Savanna...Sabrina? No, Salena.

The weight of Salena’s body presses Angel into the mattress. Her body is nearly directly on top of his, her face nuzzled into the warmth of his neck.

He’s not used to women sleeping over. Angel has one rule. He wants to sleep alone. Translation, be gone when he wakes in the morning.

That’s why, when he wakes to the sound of a slamming door, Angel is pissed.

His initial thought is that Salena let the door slam on her way out. The only problem is, Salena is still in bed with him--sleeping soundly. If she wasn’t, he would have been up able to react quicker. Because if it’s not Salena leaving, it means that someone is coming in.

“You need to go,” Angel mumbles as he manages to escape her grip.

Salena responds by rolling over and ignoring his request.

When he leaves his bedroom, Angel finds his entire house in darkness. His hand runs down his face as your voice fills the air.

"Ow--shit!" Your keys and purse fall to the floor as you bump into the coffee table.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

“What are you doing?” You counter the slurring of your speech causing Angel’s head to shake. “...standing in the dark like a fucking creep.”

“Are you drunk?”

Your head shakes. Even if half-asleep, Angel knows you’re not drunk. You’re hammered, at least by your standards. He’s known you long enough to realize you’re a lightweight. A two and a half-hour ride with a bottle of Cabernet meant you were well past your limit.

“And why are you back early--did you drive here?”

“No,” you scoff. “I took an uber obviously--”

A second trip into the coffee table silences the rest of your response.

“Alright, come on--” Angel takes your hand in his, preventing you from falling forward.

“I don’t need your help.” Yanking your hand free of his grip--with more force than necessary--you stumble backward. Between the late hour and his body still attempting to shake off its grogginess, the action is too fast for Angel to predict. “Or any man’s help for that matter...fucking men--always thinking they need to save me--”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you--and fucking...fucking Michael--that piece of shit...” Despite your previous attempt to escape him, you turn on your heels causing Angel to bump into you. Instinctively, his hands find your waist. An innocent attempt to help maintain your balance. “--I said I don’t need help walking, Angel--”

“Clearly.” The smirk on his lips narrows your eyes.

The pathetic attempt of a shove you apply to his chest is enough to tip your already unsteady balance.

In his defense, Angel isn’t used to “rescuing” you from a drunk faceplant. Usually, the roles are reversed.

It may not be the smartest move, but it’s the quickest way to prevent another one of your escape attempts. Angel tightens his grip on your waist, pulling a small yelp from your lips as he lifts you off the ground throwing you over his shoulder.

The sudden shift in your posture blurs your vision--sending the room spinning. The rush of blood to your head causes your palm to come down hard in frustration against Angel’s back.

“Put me down…” Angel’s head shakes as your slurred speech trails off for a moment. Seizing the break in your resistance, he carries you across the darkened room towards the security of the sofa. “...what the hell are you doing in my house anyway?”

“This is my house.” Angel huffs as he lowers you onto the sofa. “If you get up, I’m not stopping you. I'm serious, I'll let you bust your ass this time.”

But moving from the sofa has already left your mind. Instead, your focus has drifted. Scanning the living room as Angel disappears. Despite his words, you're still not sure why you've ended up at his house and not yours.

“Here drink this,” Angel sighs as he returns. He hopes the glass of water will miraculously sober you up. Between failing to kick Salena out, and you showing up drunk at 3 in the morning, Angel is considering giving up women. At least for a few hours.

Angel’s steps come to a slow halt as he rounds the sofa to find you gone. Somehow, in the time it took him to fill a glass with water, you have slid down to the floor. Your back against the sofa, you’ve given up the impossible task of unfastening your heels. Instead, you’re tugging at them. Groans of frustration fill the air once the heels remain in place.

The shaky breaths and trembling of your fingers widen Angel’s eyes.

“Shit--are you crying?”

“I’m not crying.” The shaking of your head only seems to push the tears out faster. The blurring of your vision makes the task at hand impossible. “I’m not crying.”

“My bad, you’re not crying,” Angel repeats, hopeful it’ll make the crying stop. Handling a crying woman is not his strongest suit. In fact, he tries to avoid crying women at all costs. He focuses on the easier task of removing your heels. He offers you an encouraging smile once he’s done. “See, you’re all good.”

“No, I’m not.” Reaching forward, you grab the nearest heel, launching it as hard as you can. “Michael got me these.”

You manage to grab the second heel before Angel can. You launch it in the same direction as the first.

“I’ve always hated those ugly fucking shoes.”

The second heel doesn’t land in the middle of the floor like its predecessor. Instead, it flies straight into Salena’s arm as she rounds the corner.

“Ow--what the fuck? Angel!”

The overhead light cuts on, temporarily blinding both you and Angel. When you open your eyes, you find a half-dressed Salena standing over you. Your discarded heel in her left hand, her narrowed eyes focused on you.

"So, this is why you wanted me to leave? Your girlfriend is home?"

"Neither of us is his girlfriend, sweetheart." you correct.

“I’m not sleeping in your bed ever again,” you clarify, your voice muffled against your palms. “Not until you wash your sheets.”

In the time it took to get Salena out of the house you’ve found that your body has begun to crash. The idea of laying down the only thought of your mind. That’s why the moment he’s settled alongside you on the floor, Angel’s shoulder becomes your pillow.

“Please don’t say I told you so.”

Passing up the opportunity to be right, is not in Angel’s nature. But one look at you, he’s biting his tongue.

“I never liked him.”

“You've never liked anyone I’ve dated,” you laugh quietly.

“That’s because you only date assholes.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Exactly.”

Angel's arm drapes around you, the gentle squeeze he gives bringing a weak smile to your lips.

“That’s it,” you sigh. “I’m done dating. Forever.”

“Dating is overrated,” Angel notes.

It’s a phrase Angel has told you nearly a million times over the years. Typically, after you’ve watched him ensnare yet another naive woman with his smile. You typically roll your eyes at Angel's mantra, but right now, you don’t even bother.

“I’m serious, if you see me even blinking at the same guy twice grab me.”

“Yeah, okay,” Angel chuckles.

He knows there's no point in taking the promise any further. If Angel is a cynic when it comes to dating, you’re the poster child for hopeless romantics.

When you fall in love, you fall hard. When you get heartbroken, the fallout hits the hardest.

“I can’t wait until my forties to have a kid.”

“What?”

“I’ll be in my sixties when they graduate high school--my sixties!”

“That’s what this is about?”

“...he doesn’t want kids...at least not right now...he wants time to explore other options before being shackled to me forever.”

“I’m going to kick his fucking ass.”

“When you do, can I watch?”

“Fuck that, you’re getting in a few hits.”

“I can’t believe I wasted three years on him, thinking he was going to help me start a family,” you groan. “When I could’ve just asked you.”

Angel laughs, his smile growing as you giggle.

“I’m serious. Definitely would’ve happened faster.”

“If you want to have sex with me, there are much easier ways--”

“Shut up, it is not about sex,” you assure him as your eyes drift shut. “I actually pride myself in being one of the few women in this town you haven’t slept with. Being immune to your charm is a superpower.”

“You still ended up here tonight,” Angel grins.

You softly smile.

“That’s because you’re my best friend, and you always give the best hugs when I feel like shit.”

series taglist: @youlovetkay @mochachocolatteyaya @chaneajoyyy @sesamepancakes

angel + all mayans tags: @turn-thy-paige @finalgirlhales @jadesid @poetically-0riginal @diaryofkali @babaohhhriley @katastrophic04 @partypoison00 @rose-bliss @mayansxlover @joannasteez @headrushxreeta @brwnlikefoxy @nemesis729 @destiny-tsukino @inyourbackpocketisbutterflies @straightestgay-voice

all stories: @rosieposie0624 @amberritonicole @agoldin @est1887@toni9 @chaneajoyyy @relaxing-najee @awkwardtayler @siempremamita @seize-the-droid @glimmerglittergirl @cutiebubbleboo @pearlkitten33 @tian-monique @megapeacelovemusic-blog @sincerelykas @brattyfics @ladyofsoa@browneyes912 @beiroviski @sadeyesgf @mrsmarvelous1995 @everyhowlmarksthedead @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @demonquartz @appropriate-writers-name @ughdontbeboring @cocotheclown @thesandbeneathmytoes @queenbeered @starrynite7114 @wiccanmetallicrose @tomhardydallasstarsgirl

[sultryvodka]

𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙚! 𝙖𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨 | 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 1

𝙥𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙚 - 𝙢𝙖𝙮 4𝙩𝙝

warnings: mild swearing, mildly suggestive (if you squint lol)

| armin - colt - eren - jean - porco |

armin arlert

• i think most, if not all of us, agree that armin looks like the type to get all flustered with PDA & shy away from his emotions --- HOWEVER.

• rather than being all over you, he finds himself most comfortable with holding your hand or having an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

• he wouldn't mind you being clingy though 👀

• would occasionally place a gentle peck on your forehead, cheeks & his personal favorite; the palm of your hands.

• you guys' dates would mostly end up being in a library, café & restaurants with a nice warm atmosphere.

• i bet he would be the kind of guy to take you to the beach whenever you're stressed out in hopes of calming you down.

• gets very defensive when his friends tease you, if a man could bark his friends away, it's armin arlert.

• this lad over here would establish a routine with you (with your consent & opinions ofc)

• mondays to friday mornings are centered on school, you guys do your own thing at school & walk you home while making sure to stop by a convenience store for snacks, assuming that you guys don't live together yet.

• both of you make it a point to check on one another to make sure you guys aren't wearing yourselves out.

• which leads me to the conclusion that your parents grew very fond of him & treats him more like their child

• when you guys are having a sleepover, this whole lowkey facade of his takes a 180 and the second you reach the bedroom he'll shower you with cuddles and kisses.

• you would watch movies (mostly rom-com just bc armin makes it work okay) tucked in a warm futon with popcorn and candies between you two.

• armin strikes me as a very studious guy and he does this to ensure you guys' future together ^-^

• all in all armin cares about you so much and he doesn't mind being vulnerable to you. he is your safe haven, and so are you to him.

colt grice

• okay can we talk about how this perfect man deserves some more attention

• colt, my man, gives me disney's prince florian vibes. the soft-spoken, kind-hearted, & just an absolute dream.

• he's the kind of guy to take you to the park, a greenhouse, & WORKSHOPS!!!

• given the idea that he is in fact a shy little baby, he is actually pretty active with you. every date you guys have is different. mans has a quest planned out for y'all.

• at school i think that you might be the one to initiate skinship. doesn't have to be kisses on the lips, it's more of gently trailing your index on the back of his hand or rubbing a hand on his forearm when he gets a little anxious.

• the type to peek through your classroom's door because bubba's too shy to ask someone to call for you 🤧

• colt, in my opinion, is very domestic in private, now don't get me wrong he may be a little too shy in public because he isn't used to it but i promise you he takes on the nurturing role of the relationship more than you are.

• he helps you with cleaning, folding your clothes, and god if you guys get periods, he's got a whole pouch in his locker just for you.

• he doesn't do it intentionally, he happens to know you so well that he notices the slight change in your moods & cravings.

• colt often reads a book while you guys cuddle during the afternoons once all the work is done, he'd make you tea or whatever you want. he hums a tune, probably from old disney movies that his brother falco used to enjoy as a kid.

• your parents are more invested in your marriage than you and colt combined.

• okay, now if you happen to have a baby or a toddler somewhere around the house, someone keep this man from turning into a putty.

• as much as colt acts prim and proper most of the time, he has his moments where he just wants to be an entire mess. perhaps sleeping past his usual waking time, indulging in more snacks than usual. you know, loosen up? yeah, that is a side of his that only YOU will ever be allowed to see.

• so yes you and colt would be labeled as the: put-together couple who needs a little bit of adventure every now and then.

eren jaeger

• i hope i don't ramble too long because i love him sm

• mr. loverboy over here is a simp for you, more than you are a simp for him! he is not afraid to show you off and shower you with flattery. now he does this because he feels so lucky to have you.

• he can be a little cliché (well maybe not as much as jean --- more on that later), like he'll randomly interrupt your vacant class with a gift box he put together, & a bouquet. yes. (carla helped him pick out flowers from her shop)

• he's the type to crash his lips with yours in the middle of campus when you achieve something or when he does, vice-versa. if he plays in one of your school's teams, there just HAS to be a bet that if he wins he gets a kiss... or more... or something else.

• dates with eren are usually random than planned. like it pops in his head and he'll inform you right away. he respects your vacancy too of course but if you aren't he might pout just a little bit.

• his ideal dates are prop shop dates, going to hotspots, amusement parks, antique shops! & maybe late night drinks at a quiet bar where you can both enjoy the solace of the atmosphere.

• on special occasions, he does plan ahead. usually it's something on the simpler side. candlelit dinners at home or somewhere you guys both enjoy dining.

• if eren's had a bad day, best believe that he will run to you for comfort. only you can help keep his aggressive response to anger at bay.

• if given the chance he would take you around the world, he's that passionate in making sure you live a little

• hear me out... you and eren would probably have the most philosophical conversations, just laying on your backs beneath his room's skylight? heavenly.

• eren can get a little poetic expressing himself & i believe that it's just wonderful. no one can describe their feelings as good as eren.

• his favorite look of yours is when your eyes beam with excitement, it usually happens when you spot something that you used to enjoy as a kid or when you're concentrating on one of your hobbies.

• he's a very touchy person too, his hands are usually on your stomach/waist, his kisses are random & they linger for awhile.

• when you're asleep next to him, it's his habit to solemnly watch you while his own drowsiness starts to take over.

• eren is passionate & sometimes people might take it the wrong way. one of the reasons eren loves you is because of the way you understand how he is. mutual growth for y'all ♡.

jean kirschtein

• jean is not afraid to pull a live performance for you, you see this man is at the top of the world when he's with you. from 80s hits to recent releases this man will blast his playlists catered for you.

• dates with jean are certainly spent on concerts, (him & eren bond over chase atlantic don't argue with me) music festivals, thrifting & late night drives!!!

• personally, i don't see jean as very gimmicky unless you guys are with his friends, he takes you very seriously and you are his top priority.

• at school i think he's definitely one of those flirtatious boyfriends. the kind who would not miss an opportunity to blow you a kiss or throw you a wink. he can be a bit of a dork, who wouldn't be? if he can get one of your rare smiles 🥺

• jean's the type to ask his pals for help when it comes to styling. not because he dresses badly but he's too focused on getting a flush on your cheeks. he's a hopeless romantic.

• if you guys happen to stay at home, he'll definitely serenade you with the amount of songs he had written recently just for you.

• since he bonds with sasha and connie, his jokes are either dad jokes or something that went viral on tiktok. he's the perfect balance of goofy and mature.

• if you aren't much of an active person he wouldn't mind being lazy with you and insist on a diy spa day at home.

• it's just netflix with a tub of ice cream and face masks on.

• since jean is quite the romantic, he would be into couple outfits or items that aren't cringey obv and probably doesn't mind using your perfume or vice-versa.

• jean probably asked you out during one of his gigs, offering you a single rose afterwards.

• he's the type to leave you random post-it notes if he visits your house. just random phrases or doodles. and boy does he pick you up every single day on his smexy motorcycle.

• he'll bring you coffee and breakfast to-go. this man's spoiling you baby.

• aside from that, i feel like jean would make you hand-made gifts with the help of his momma. he thinks it's sentimental when you make your presents because it's one of a kind.

• jean does all these things because he's 100% about you being a constant person in his life. he loves how he can be whoever he wants when he's around you, i'm certain you guys wouldn't have it any other way either.

porco galliard

• porco can be a dick if he wants to not to you though, this tough guy turns into putty just for you. he definitely loves being treated like a baby.

• at first he might come off as cold because he isn't used to the whole romance thing and he gets flustered with the slightest pecks so you might have to initiate at first.

• but once you guys get through the awkward phase this boy would straight up greet you with a passionate kiss and does not give a damn about everybody who witnessed it. he might even have a stupid smirk on his face.

• like eren, i feel like porco would be very passionate and intense. he doesn't say much but he definitely shows you just how much he adores you.

• speaking of friends (: reiner would tease him every second of the day. i bet he would team up with bertholdt to annoy this poor boy. annie and pieck's not much help either.

•whenever you're stressed, porco would run you a bath and give you massages very often. he'll sit on the edge of the tub while he runs his hand through your hair.

•his type of dates would be watching at a cinema or a drive-in, going to the mall just to look around,he's a simple guy.

•if you guys happen to have an argument, porco would distance himself for a few minutes to a few hours just to process the situation and avoid anything his aggression might cause.

•he knew that if he wanted you guys to work he needed to be better.

•he would come back though and hold you in his arms while you guys talk it out.

•i bet he's one of the aot characters who would be an athlete, so most days you'll end up watching him practice.

•overtime, porco would be more open to being intimate in public and post stories of you two just doing things most couples do.

•he's proud that you're his and he's all yours.

•porco is a great guy and he would do anything just to make you smile.

i hope you guys liked these~! let me know who you guys want to be in the second part. requests are open and as always, stay safe! - 🌸☁️

[fallingforyou123]

Coffee and Drive-ins-A Cupcakes and Therapy Moment

A/N: Here's the next part, hope you guys enjoy it! Sorry it took so long but this weekend was hell, ended up in the hospital for a little bit, but I'm all good now! As always, likes are reblogs are appreciated.

Summary: A drive in, therapy, first kiss

Word Count: 1.6k (she's short)

Warnings: First kiss awkwardness

Masterlist

The morning air was crisp and cool, summer starting to turn into fall in a matter of days. The streets were deserted, the city still in the process of waking. Bucky was seated on the steps of his building with Alpine, sleep having never come last night. It had been a few days since that night in the bakery and he was still floating on a cloud of peace. The nightmares were still there, still plaguing his nights, but during the day he could drift off to a place where he was with you. You had seen each other every morning, Bucky stopping in for breakfast at the bakery before starting his day.

As the sun started to rise over the buildings, Bucky began to walk, his legs carrying him the familiar way to the bakery. When he gets there he greets the boy behind the counter, one of the college kids that you have in on busy days, and heads over to his usual table. He’s only sitting for a few minutes before you head over to him, his coffee and breakfast in hand.

“Good morning! I wish I could sit and eat with you today, but I've got pastries in the oven.”

You hand him his stuff, place a kiss on his cheek, and head back into the kitchen. Bucky chuckles as he watches you walk away, you’re always on the move. He sits and enjoys his coffee while reading the newspaper, making a mental note to compliment you on breakfast later. Bucky has become your unofficial taste-tester over the past few days, bringing him whatever new creation you’re working on, today was cranberry orange scones.

When he’s finished, Bucky cleans up his things, pops his head into the back to say goodbye, and heads out the door. The sun is fully out now, replacing the chill from this morning with nothing but a light breeze. It’s Sunday, which means he’s headed to another therapy session, but for some reason, the usual dread of going has lessened.

He arrives at the building exactly 10 minutes early, his usual time, and buzzes in. He nods his head in recognition towards the receptionist and walks into the office. It’s routine, it’s something he’s been doing for months now. He sits on the couch, ready to say no more than a few words, but the second his therapist asks him if anything new has happened, he starts rambling.

He tells her about finding you in the market, about the date, even his daily breakfasts, and she’s thrilled. “This is what we’ve been working towards for months, James. You don’t need to surround yourself with people you’ve hurt and feel miserable, you can let people in who make you feel good.”

Bucky goes silent at that, he knows it’s true, but the need to suffer the same as the people he’s hurt will always be there.

“Have you told her yet, about your past?”

His head snaps up, the thought having never crossed his mind. “No.”

“James, you can’t lie to her, she needs to know. She’ll find out eventually, whether you tell her or not. You’re not a ghost, not anymore, stop pretending you are.”

“Eventually, maybe. I just met her, I can’t lose her once she knows what I’ve done.”

The good feeling he’d had earlier slowly turns into annoyance. He glances at the clock, ready to leave, willing time to move faster. His therapist sighs, takes her glasses off and places them on the table beside her, and looks at Bucky. “You can’t stay closed off forever. There is a darkness inside you that won’t go away unless you let someone in, stop fighting the people who care about you.”

***

It’s mid-evening when Bucky picks up his phone and calls you. He’s been thinking all day, his mind refusing to stop running. He needs to do something to distract himself, but more importantly, he needs to see you. It’s been months since he’s used his car, it’s been parked in the building's garage gathering dust, but tonight he needs it. He pulls up outside of the bakery and you’re already waiting for him. Ever the gentleman, he gets out and helps you into the car and then you’re off.

“Gonna tell me where we’re going, or am I going to have to assume you’re kidnapping me?”

Bucky chuckles and looks at you, “No, doll, I’m not kidnapping you. But I’m not telling you where we’re going, you’ll see when we get there.”

You sigh dramatically, and then chuckle, leaning back in your seat. You drive in silence for a few minutes before your curiosity gets the better of you and you begin pestering Bucky with questions. “Are we going for food?”

“Maybe.”

“Mini-golf?”

“No.”

“Running away to Canada for maple syrup?”

This earns a laugh from Bucky, “No, doll. We’re almost there though.”

You’re in Greenpoint now, right down by the water, the moon replacing the sun. Bucky pulls into a parking lot filled with other cars, a big screen sitting at the front. “What do you think y/n?”

You’ve never been to a drive in before, but you think this is the best one ever. There’s food trucks lining the sides of the lot, picnic tables and lounge chairs set up in front, and waiters walking around taking orders. “I’ve never been to one of these before.”

Bucky looks at you weirdly and you laugh, “What? I grew up in an apartment in Manhattan and lived in a rundown town in Europe, drive-ins weren’t that popular for me.”

“There used to be one in my neighborhood that would play every Friday night. I’d sneak Rebecca out, meet up with my friend Steve, and we’d come buy these big things of popcorn and sit ourselves in the grass for hours. It was one of the only things we had growing up.”

You grab Bucky's hand and give him a small smile, “That must’ve been really nice. I wish I’d had something like that growing up. Closest I got was watching my parents fight over dinner like it was a reality t.v. show.”

The both of you laugh, hands still intertwined and a warm feeling falling over the both of you. “Well, I’d like to replace those memories with some better ones, if you want.”

“I’d like that a lot.”

It’s then that a man comes up to the window and Bucky turns to hand him the tickets, an order sheet getting passed back to him. You both check off what food you want, a couple of coffees, some popcorn and some candy, before handing it back to the man. “I hope you don’t mind what movie’s playing, Back to the Future Part II.”

“Who knew you were a sci-fi geek, Bucky.”

He rolls his eyes at you, “It was the only thing that I could still get tickets for. It was all last minute, I needed a distraction.”

“I get it. It’s been a long day for everyone.”

Sighing and nodding his head, Bucky reaches out and grabs your hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. A few minutes later your food arrives and the movie starts to play. The two of you sit and enjoy the movie, making small comments and laughing together, it was the perfect way to end both of your long days.

When the credits start to roll and other cars start pulling away, Bucky turns to you, noticing the hesitancy on your face, neither of you quite wanting the night to end. “Do you want to go get coffee? I’m sure we can find something still open.”

You nod your head and Bucky begins to pull out of the lot. You drive around for a little while, taking in the night scenery and enjoying the silence. Eventually you find a small cafe still open and head inside to order your coffees. After acquiring your drinks you head outside to walk around.

The fall air has begun to replace the warm summer, and nights have become cold. A small chill runs through you and you shiver, Bucky notices and takes off his jacket to place around your shoulders. “Thank you.”

“Can’t have you freezing to death on me.”

The two of you walk for what seems like hours, finding comfort in each other. You end up in a small park sitting on a bench, your head resting on Bucky’s shoulder and him with his arm wrapped around you. You turn your head to say something, only to find bucky already looking at you. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t name, and he reaches out to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he leans in. A small brush of his lips against yours, so soft you can barely feel it, and it has your breath catching in your throat. You lean in again, this time with more urgency. You pull back only when you run out of breath, a small smile on your lips. “That was a nice way to end the evening.”

Bucky laughs, and it’s infectious. You’ve never fallen for someone so quickly, never felt so safe, but you can’t imagine not being with him. You sit there for a few more minutes, stealing quick kisses, before you decide it’s time to leave. Bucky drives you home and you spend a couple minutes kissing like teenagers in his car before you eventually get out of the car and head into your building. You don’t know what this is or where it’s going, but all you can think about as you get ready for bed is Bucky.

taglist: @posteyymaloney

If you would like to be tagged, message me!

[evafrechette]

It’s a Match

↠ yoongi x jimin | smut | hookup au | 18+ | 3.4K

↠ Summary: Loneliness can make you do questionable things. Like signing up to a dating app to suck the cock of a stranger.

↠ Warnings: deep throating, public blowjobs, cum sharing, kind of a social media au - but not, drunk Yoongi, flirting, masturbation, gagging.

Yoongi never thought he'd be desperate enough to download the app on his phone, but here he was at 11:37 on a Friday night, finger hovering over the install button.

"Ahhh fuck it.."

He clicked and watched as the app downloaded and installed on his phone. He never thought it would get to this point. He'd been single for years. Preferring his own company, he never found it necessary to date. People annoyed him, too loud, too intrusive, too manipulative. So he remained alone. But 4 years is a long time to be on your own and he was starting to grow tired of his own hand. Plus he'd watched evey fucking video there was on his favourite porn site a year ago. That should have been the sign he needed to get laid, but his dumb ass wallowed in misery for another 12 months and that's why he's here now, creating a profile in the hopes of getting fucked this weekend.

A frown formed on Yoongi's face, he had been scrolling through profiles for the last 30 minutes and hadn't matched with anyone. He knew it was because he was being incredibly picky, swiping left on nearly every single profile he'd come across. He wasn't gonna get his dick sucked carrying on like this. He swiped left on a profile of a man in his 40s - already starting to bald, arms wrapped around a girl half his age - when his eyes landed upon the profile of a young man.

Yoongi was intrigued. The man had the prettiest face Yoongi had ever seen, beautiful plush lips pulled into a seductive smile, with his blond bangs hanging over his eyes. Yoongi clicked to view the profile in full, Jimin - the beautiful man's name was Jimin. He used emojis in his profile, which made Yoongi let out a frustrated groan. He hated emojis, too childish. He continued to read the profile and decided that the two of them were too different and even though the man was beautiful he would swipe left, like he had been all night. Maybe it was an accident or maybe Yoongi's subconscious wanted those plush lips around his cock, because instead of swiping left he swiped right.

He put the phone down and got up to make a drink. He shouldn't have a coffee this late, but apparently he was living recklessly tonight. With the steaming hot drink in his hand he climbed back onto his bed. He took a sip of the dark hot liquid when he heard the ding of a notification. He cautiously leaned over and grabbed the phone, swiping away his lock screen. He could see that he had been notified of a match, so he quickly opened the app, curious as to which one of the very small pool of men he'd swiped right on that would like him back. Yoongi could feel his cheeks starting to heat up. He didn't expect to match with the blond with the lips to die for. Not only that, but the man had messaged him too.

Yoongi couldn't tell him the truth, he WAS going to swipe left, what the fuck happened with that anyway.

Yoongi choked on his coffee, Jimin looked like an angel, but an angel wouldn't talk that way. How the hell does he respond to that? Does he even want to respond to that? He placed his coffee on the side table and dragged his hand through his hair. If he didn't take this opportunity his blue balls would actually kill him. Well fuck, his response just made him sound like the world's most pathetic asshole.

Yoongi checked the time, it was quite early in the morning now. The coffee had helped wake him up, but the prospect of meeting with the cute man had him feeling even more awake than what was humanly possible. The two of them talked for the next few hours. Sharing stories of their worst dates, childhood pets, who was more powerful Superman or Ironman and their favourite songs. Yoongi finally said goodnight and put his phone on the charger. They had agreed to met at Jimin's favourite bar the 'Hit List' at 8pm that night. Seventeen hours for Yoongi to work himself up into a worried hot ass mess. Fucking great. And yet as he stared up at the ceiling a small smile broke out on his face.

Yoongi spent his Saturday doing everything he possibly could to distract himself from his date that evening. Was it a date? Do you call meeting some random off the internet to possibly fuck a date? He was too old for this shit. He rearranged his vinyl collection, read a decent chunk of his new book and practiced a few new songs on his guitar. Once the sky had turned a beautiful shade of orange and pink Yoongi knew he had to stop stalling and get his ass ready. He took an extra long shower, debating on whether to do some manscaping (since all the young kids do it these days) before deciding not to. He liked his bush, and if pretty boy wasn't a fan well tough shit for him.

He teamed his black and white shirt with a pair of black jeans ripped at the knee, a leather jacket and finished it off with a few pieces of jewellery. With one last look in the mirror Yoongi slid his phone and wallet into the pocket of his jeans and left his apartment. Just as he stepped into the lift his phone pinged. It was a message from Jimin.

*******************

Jimin is sitting at the bar when Yoongi arrives. He's deep in conversation with the bartender, so Yoongi stands by the entrance awkwardly looking around. It's a nice place, very quiet and intimate. It's dark, a few low hanging lights scattered around and tealight candles sitting in a whisky glass on each table. To his right is a large floor to ceiling window, surrounded by a mix match of old leather chairs. There is a faint smell of smoke in the air. Oddly this smell starts to calm Yoongi down, it reminds him of his grandfather. Okay, now he's nervous again. Thinking of his grandfather at a time like this?

"I'm a fucking mess." he mutters to himself as he walks over to the bar.

"Uhh sorry to interrupt, Jimin right?"

The blond turns his head and smiles, he is really more beautiful in real life Yoongi thinks to himself. He's wearing a black shirt with one too many buttons undone, his hair parted in the middle falling gracefully to each side framing his angelic looking face.

"Mmm that's right and you are?"

Um what?! Fuck, Yoongi knew he made a mistake by coming here. Ahh fuck, why did he have to make that stupid profile? He loved Amateur Bareback 3-Way #2, he could have easily watched it 100 more times.

"Relax cutie, I'm just playing, you should have seen your face," a giggle escaped from Jimin's lips. "Nice to meet you Yoongi." he stood up and extended his hand out to shake. Yoongi quickly wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans and returned the handshake. Jimin's hand was engulfed in Yoongi's. He looked down and couldn't help but smile at the scene. Jimin's hands were so petite compared to his. It was a rather lovely sight.

"Order yourself a drink and we'll go sit over there." he pointed to the leather chairs Yoongi has been eyeing up earlier. He ordered an Irish Mule for himself and a Negroni for Jimin. He carried the drinks to the table, while Jimin followed closely behind. A little too close Yoongi thought. He could smell his perfume starting to mix with the smoke smell. It was a delicious combination.

The first half an hour was straight up torture for Yoongi. Even though the two of them had spent the night messaging each other it was different once he was sitting face to face with the most stunning man in all of Seoul. Yoongi avoided eye contact, mumbled and laughed dryly at Jimin's jokes. He was well and truly fucking this entire thing up.

Jimin huffed "You don't have to stick around you know, you can leave whenever you want."

Yep. He had fucked this up.

"Uhh it's not that," Yoongi starts to bite at his thumb nail "Jimin, I'm terrible at this. People stress me the fuck out, I haven't been laid in four years, I don't like leaving my apartment, you are lovely, fantastic even and that's making me even more nervous."

Jimin played with the hoop in his ear while looking directly at Yoongi, he tilted his head to the side "How can I help you relax? I thought we clicked last night?"

They did

"I'm sorry I make you nervous, I can't help it that I'm so cute." Yoongi finally looked into Jimin's eyes and they burst into laughter.

"It's not your fault. Fuck it, I need another drink . . or five that will help." he rolled his eyes before waking back to the bar.

With a few more drinks in him Yoongi was relaxed, he could feel the whiskey warming up his body. The heat in his stomach though, he was sure that was because of the attractive man sitting in front of him. The discomfort had finally vanished and instead a mellowness had fallen over the two.

"I've always liked older men." Jimin purred, his delicate small fingers, adorned with multiple silver rings, brushing against the now half empty glass.

"Aiisshh I'm only two years older than you!" Yoongi huffed, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yeah, but you act like you're nearly 60.” Jimin let out a hearty laugh, his eyes turning into crescents, cheeks plump and slightly pink. He slapped the table causing their glasses to shake. Yoongi quickly grabbed his to prevent it from spilling.

"It's not that funny." he didn't want to admit it, but the blond's laugh was hypnotic, he could watch Jimin laugh for hours and never tire of it.

Jimin straightened up, fingers now tracing the rim of the glass "I bet you don't fuck like an old man though."

Yoongi gulped and looked directly into Jimin's brown eyes, gone was the playful light, it was now replaced with desperate firey lust. He knew what the outcome of this date could be, and yet he was still nervous. He could feel his heart starting to race, his breath becoming faster. "Aaahh shit" Yoongi thought to himself as his left hand started to twitch, the blond's smell - a mix of orange blossom and patchouli was becoming overwhelming, he needed to calm down, he'd cum within seconds if he didn't get his shit under control.

"Heh, well I guess you'll find out later huh?"

Jimin reached over and ran his soft fingers over Yoongi's hand, playing with the bracelets that sat around his wrist.

"Why don't I find out now?"

Yoongi's friends love roasting him for his personality change when drunk. All of a sudden the quiet reserved man becomes giggly and loud. Cracking terrible jokes and singing at the top of his lungs. Sober Yoongi would never dare dream of taking a stranger to the bathroom to jerk off. Drunk Yoongi though? Try to stop him.

"Mmm Jiminshi are you sure?”

Jimin giggled at this "You are SO cute" he continued to draw his fingers over Yoongis hands "Of course I'm sure, do you wanna go back to mine? Or we could go to yours if you're more comfortable with that..."

Without thinking Yoongi stood, grabbed the blonds arm and pulled him up. They walked towards the exit, but before descending the stairs they took a left and made their way into the restroom. Once inside Yoongi pushed Jimin against the door and started kissing at his neck. "Fuck! Jimin, there is no way in hell I can wait to get back to my place, I need to feel you now." Yoongi whispered between kisses.

Yoongi leaned down and kissed his exposed chest, thank fuck Jimin had left those top buttons open. They had been torturing Yoongi all night long, but now he was thankful for it. Jimin's skin was so soft and it faintly smelled like cherry blossom lotion but he wanted more. He was desperate for more. Jimin ran his hands through Yoongi's hair and grabbed hard. Small moans escaped his lips, which drew Yoongi even crazier. He undid the buttons on his shirt and stood back. Jimin had the body of a god. Perfectly sculptured, with beautiful brown nipples begging to be sucked on. Who was Yoongi to deny god his wish?

Jimin let out a squeak when Yoongi ran his tongue over his nipples, hungrily licking and sucking at them. His right hand found it's way to the bulge in Jimin's pants and he pressed his palm down onto it. Jimin was now starting to get louder which made Yoongi smirk, he lightly nipped on Jimin's nipple before standing up and leaning in to sloppily kiss Jimin on those perfect, perfect lips, the taste of spice and bitterness still lingering.

"Uuuhhh Hyung, please touch me."

"That's what I'm doing Jimin."

"No you asshole, I want to feel you properly, get my fucking dick out." Yoongi stopped and looked at Jimin, slightly taken back by the tone of his voice. But he just smiled back - a wicked smile.

Yoongi got onto his knees and began undoing the zip of Jimin's pants. He pulled them down to his ankles, he then drew his hands up Jimin's legs, enjoying how smooth they were. He palmed Jimin's cock through his underwear eliciting a moan from the man above him. Yoongi pressed his face into Jimin's clothed cock. He took a deep breath, Jimin smelled wicked, his arousal mixed with body lotion was rousing. He alternated between sucking and licking on the cock trapped behind Calvin Klein underwear. He repeated this action a few more times before finally removing the now very damp briefs.

Jimin wasn't the biggest cock Yoongi had ever seen, but he was thick and absolutely smooth. He stroked his long fingers over his chiseled abs, along Jimin's length and then down to his balls which he cupped in his hand, massaging back and forth. He let go and brought his hand to his mouth, running his tongue over his entire palm. It was so fucking dirty and Jimin shuddered at the sight. He reached back up and gripped Jimin's cock in his now saliva covered hand. He drew his hand up and down at a frantic pace. He was too worked up to go any slower, but Jimin didn't seem to mind by the noises he was making. Oh shit, he was being too loud now. They'd get caught and thrown out or even worse the cops called.

"Shit Jimin, you need to be quiet or someone will hear us.”

“Mmm Yoongi I don't think I can cutie, why do you think I said we should get out of here."

Yoongi huffed and slowed his hand down. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jimin's briefs, so he picked them up, stood and shoved them in Jimin's mouth.

"That should shut you up.... Is that okay? I can take them out if you don't like it.”

Jimin shook his head and moaned around the underwear. His mouth was stretched open and drool already starting to pool at the corners. What a fucking beautiful thing to witness. Pleased with himself Yoongi got back on his knees and kissed the tip of Jimin's cock. His tongue played with the slit, circling it before he slowly kissed down each side of his shaft. He then licked the base to tip, never taking his eyes off Jimin's. They both looked so fucked already, pupils blown out, flushed cheeks and lips swollen from the rough kissing earlier.

He started pumping slowly, wanting to tease Jimin a little, the blond was impatient though and bucked his hips into Yoongi's fist, letting him know he wanted and desperately needed it faster. Yoongi let out a small chuckle and started to move his hand at a pace the gorgeous man would enjoy. Muffled moans of pleasure let Yoongi know he had found the magic speed. He continued like this for a few minutes before letting go and taking Jimin's cock in his mouth. Oh he tasted good - of course he did he was perfect in every way why would this be any different? Yoongi hollowed his cheeks as he bobbed up and down on Jimin's length, taking it deep before pulling up and letting go with a 'pop'.

He took hold of Jimin's cock and rubbed his lips all over the head, spreading precum all over his lips and chin. He felt like such a slut, but he was loving every moment of it. Yoongi closed his eyes and slowly buried Jimin's entire cock in his mouth until it hit the back of his throat. He moaned around the feeling, this was what he had needed. To feel stuffed by a pretty cock attached to a pretty man. Jimin was squirming above him, his panting and moans muffled by the briefs in his mouth, but there was no doubt he was in ecstasy just like the cock starved brunette. Yoongi felt petite hands fist into his hair and start pulling and pushing trying to take some control of the situation, Yoongi slowed down and allowed Jimin to start fucking into his mouth.

With each of Jimin's thrusts his grunts became louder as he was getting closer to his orgasm. Jimin wasn't the only one getting close, after having practically become a born again virgin, Yoongi's head was dizzy with arousal and he wasn't sure how much longer he would last, his grip on Jimin's thighs tightening, bound to leave light marks the next morning. He closed his eyes and could feel the heat from his stomach rise throughout his body, his muscles tensing as he felt his release. The wet patch in Yoongi's pants made him feel absolutely filthy. He came just from sucking someone's cock? Before he had too much time to start mulling over how much of a slut he is, Jimin spills his load inside Yoongi's hot mouth. He thrusts hard a few times causing the cum to spill out of Yoongi's mouth and dribble down his chin, landing on the floor.

Jimin hisses as he slowly removes himself from Yoongi's mouth, he leans down and Yoongi yanks the underwear out of his mouth before smashing his lips against the blonds. He doesn't care that his mouth is still full of Jimin's cum, he tastes so good he wants him to experience the intoxicating taste too. When their lips part Jimin stands to put his softening cock away. Yoongi stands with him and looks around the room, avoiding eye contact.

"Umm thanks for that, that was .. uhh really good."

Jimin's bewitching smile returns "Yeah, that was amazing cutie can't say I've ever had my underwear shoved into my mouth though, but there is a first time for everything. Come here and I'll treat you good too."

"Well um, no it's okay. Honestly. I may have cum already." he sheepishly replies, still avoiding any damn eye contact.

A small "oh" left his pouty lips "well I'm glad I could have been of assistance."

The two stood awkwardly for a while before Jimin held Yoongi's hand and walked him over to the sink. He made the older man sit on the bench while he cleaned up all the mess he had made. Yoongi's heart couldn't stop beating. There was no need for Jimin to be so nice after what they had just done, but here he was doing something Yoongi actually felt was more intimate than painting the walls of his throat with his cum.

"Ah there ya go, now you can go back into the real world without anyone suspecting a thing.”

They walked outside together in silence, Yoongi had never had a hook up before. Do you crack jokes? Profess your love? Or just act like what happened never did? His mind was a million miles away when soft fingers were suddenly stroking his cheek.

"Please message me anytime you want to see each other again, and I'll be the one doing all the dirty work okay?"

This made Yoongi blush "Yeah okay. Thank you Jimin, truly I had a great night."

And it was the truth, he had so much fun he could relive the moment in his head for the next four years. Amateur Bareback 3-Way #2 wouldn't be needed when the memory of small hands, captivating moans and cum drizzling down his chin was enough to get him hard again. It had been less than 20 minutes. God dammit!

[bruhstories]

Vogel und Jäger

- PART TWO

Summary: After waking up, you realise the realities of the world you've been pulled into. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (mafia AU) Warnings & Content: stabbing, language, angst Word Count: 1.7 k

A/N: make sure to read part one, otherwise this won't make any sense xD there's still a bit of build up going on, but starting with part three we'll be getting some action

You woke up from a restless sleep, crumbs of mascara stuck to your face. God, you needed a shower and a toilet immediately. The club was dead empty from the view upstairs, only a few people cleaning the tables and moping the floor. You stretched your arms and walked to the door, surprised it wasn't locked.

"Ah, miss Y/L/N, good morning! I hope you had a pleasant sleep." Someone startled you and you cleared your voice.

"Hi, who are you?"

"Oh, my apologies, I am Onyankopon." The man smiled and handed you a paper bag. You peekee inside and saw something which resembled clothes and toiletries. You recognised the stag pin in his chest, another of Zeke's employees. "I assume you'd like to clean yourself up. Please follow me."

"I'd love that, thank you." You smiled and followed Onyankopon downstairs. He told you bits and pieces of the Jaeger family overthrowing the police and gaining control of Paradis City, how the Marleyans wanted control over the city's resources and docks, all kinds of information you weren't entirely sure you were supposed to know. He walked you to the backstage, where all the strippersdancers got ready, encouraging you to use whatever you needed for you'd be the star of the club. That didn't help you in any way, instead it was anxiety-inducing, and your toes curled at his affirmation. You quickly took off last night's makeup, brushed your teeth, washed your face and body in a sink and got dressed. The clothes were simple, a long, light blue shirt — clearly a man's — and a pair of leggings. You wondered whom they belonged to, perhaps that grim-looking lady, Yelena. She terrified you with her look that could kill. Your hands hovered over the vanity in the dressing room but decided not to waste any more time and folded your old clothes, placing them in the paper bag.

"I'm ready." You walked out of the room and met with Onyankopon. He smiled and guided you out through the back door. "Hey, Onyankopon, who's Mikasa?"

"Oh, miss Mikasa is our best assassin. She's loyal only to Eren, though, which is an impediment for Zeke... I probably shouldn't have said that." He opened the door of a superb black car and you climbed inside with a sigh. You heard how the mafia was based on trust, and no one trusted you.

Most of the ride was silent, your eyes wandering out the window until Onyankopon parked in front of a huge and heavily guarded mansion. You knew the Jaegers were rich, but this was beyond obscene. You opened the door and Onyankopon scolded you for doing that, but you assured him you were perfectly capable of doing things by yourself. He walked you through the beautiful front garden of the mansion, through the large hallway and into what you assumed to be a living room. Or an office? Whatever that was, it was as big as the dining room of the orphanage.

"Ah, the little bird has arrived! You look splendid in my shirt." Zeke welcomed you and you felt your cheeks warm up at his words. The heat disappeared just as quickly when your eyes met with Yelena's. "Come, sit. I suppose you're hungry."

You nodded, feeling saliva building up in your mouth at the sight of croissants, bagels and all kinds of foods you've never had before. Historia was rich, but even her money wasn't enough to feed so many mouths. Doors swung open and you saw Eren barge in, followed by a few people close behind. He plopped on a couch opposite you, the same inexpensive look on his face.

"Let's get over with this. I've got shit to do."

"Impatient as always." Zeke rolled his eyes. "Y/N, do you swear to obey and serve the Jaeger family?" The question caught you off guard, but you nodded.

"I do."

"There, done." The older Jaeger brother shrugged and Eren clicked his tongue.

"You almost didn't let Mikasa walk out of this room alive because she swore loyalty to me and this is all you do to her? You're getting soft, brother."

The air in the room grew thick, almost impossible to breathe it in. All eyes were on you, and you didn't know if what you felt was shame or fear, or both.

"Very well." Zeke walked behind you and took your left hand, placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Hold that there, will you, love?" He smiled and you slightly relaxed. Until — a sharp pain, followed by electricity and heat shot from your hand, through your arm. A blood-curling scream erupted from your throat, tears falling from the corners of your eyes as you squirmed and thrashed at burning sensation, your hanned pinned to the table with a knife. Blood seeped from the wound and you panicked, no one in that room rushing to your aid. No one blinked, no one felt sorry. "Swear your loyalty to me. To the Jaeger family."

"I swear! Oh, God, I s-swear! Please!" You begged, feeling your temperature falling from your cheeks. Zeke twisted the knife and you fell from the couch, knees hitting the wooden floor.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked, unphased by your whimpers, sobs and yelling, as he let go of the knife that still pierced your flesh.

"T-to you! Make it stop, p-please!"

"Good enough for me. Any objections?" Zeke eyed his little brother.

"Just stitch her hand. She's annoying." Eren clicked his tongue and poured himself a cup of coffee. When Onyankopon pulled the knife out, blood gushed out of the fresh wound and you felt the room spin and your head heavy, vision blurry — you fainted.

A hard slap across your cheek woke you up and you met with Yelena, eyes drifting to your bandaged hand. It was damn painful to move it, and you used your other hand to support your weight, shifting your position on the couch.

"Finally." Eren got up and and handed you a file. You flipped through it and found pictures and information of the men from the club.

"Y/N, this is Armin, our bookkeeper. He'll be paying you after every successful show. And this is Mikasa, she'll train you in self-defence. I suspect you won't need it, but it's better to be safe than sorry." Zeke pushed the glasses with his index finger.

"You stabbed me." You bluntly stated, eyes glued to the bandages.

"It'll heal."

"It'll heal? I'm already in debt, you didn't need to stab me!" You got up and instantly felt a gun to your head. Great.

"Sit." Yelena's voice was brash and commanding. Your brain told you to listen to her, but your instincts told you to provoke her, to taunt her. Teeth gritting, you took a deep breath and lowered yourself down, deciding to do both.

"You're not gonna shoot me without Mr. Jaeger's permission, so don't point your gun at me." A satisfied smirk creeped on your lips — you didn't technically provoke her, just stated the obvious.

"Can I shoot her?"

"No." Zeke enjoyed the show, and unbeknownst to you, he, too, felt somewhat proud of your little snarky remark. "You still have to prove your loyalty. Talk to the band, choose some songs for Friday, Saturday and Sunday. You're free to settle your training hours with Mikasa, and to go wherever you want, but you are not allowed to step foot anywhere outside the centre of Paradis. Last thing I need is some Marleyan kidnapping you and torturing you for information. Or the cops. Dismissed."

"Mr. Jaeger, if I may?" You waited for his nod of approval. "Since I won't be living at the orphanage anymore, where exactly am I going to stay?"

"Ah, yes, of course. Blouse, Springer, come here." Zeke waved his hand. More people, more names.

It slowly dawned to you that the Jaegers had a thorough structure with extremely loyal people, and you'd have to quickly find your place there and earn their trust, lest you died a painful death. A bubbly brown-eyed woman and a cheerful-looking man approached Zeke's desk, and finally you saw someone less serious. Onyankopon was nice and all, but he wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine. These two seemed... fun.

"These are Sasha Blouse and Connie Springer, leaders of the drug cartel. You'll stay with them until you're capable of living by yourself."

The duo smiled at you and you felt genuine warmth from them, making you wonder just how bad the mafia was. They seemed to like working for the Jaeger brothers, but you couldn't judge that just yet.

"Oh, we've already moved your stuff to their place, so there is no need for you to visit Historia. Now go, we've got work to do." Zeke placed a cigarette between his lips before turning his back at you.

You were right, Sasha and Connie were fun people. They talked a lot, and you warmed up to them with a few jokes and puns. Connie handed you a phone containing a few contacts, neither of which were Zeke or Eren— apparently you weren't allowed to speak to them, they would speak to you. Sasha explained how you had to forget your past, and dedicate yourself solely to the family — no relationships, no friends, no acquaintances. You were not permitted to fall in love, which was understandable, considering the circumstances, but hard, considering the inability to control feelings.

"Don't worry about it too much. Zeke and Eren care about their subordinates, as long as you listen." Connie wrapped an arm around your neck. Besides, you're one of the lucky ones. Boss never spares witnesses, so he clearly saw potential in you." Somehow, that didn't make you feel any better, you only felt more weight on your shoulders.

"Yeah, I heard you can sing!" Sasha beamed, clapping her hands. "I can't wait for your first show, I bet it'll be awesome."

"It has to be, otherwise you'll have to come to my funeral." You shook your head, exiting Jaeger Manor. A honk caught your attention and you saw Mikasa impatiently waiting for you in a car. "Any advice before I go?"

"Don't get attached to any of us." Connie sighed.

"But trust that the family will protect you if you're loyal." The woman encouraged you before hugging you. A hug, something you never thought you'd get from a mobster.