#SELF TITLED YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS

[nowshesdoingitallthetime]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO AN ALBUM AND AN ERA THAT CAN NEVER BE REPLICATED

[cottageivy]

and if i cry, then what

[blkkizzat]

WFH!Nanami

Work From Home Nanami = best house husband

a/n: lol this is nanami brainrot while I wait for my Toji fic to get beta'd so I know how dog it is. ETA: FYI, this is a semi-repost of a self-ship collab with a now deactivated account. I repurposed my selfship part to reader and expanded to WFH. cw: smut (pussy pounding, gagging on CAWK) fluff, nanami being the perf husband and male specimen per usual wc: 1.6k

WFH!Nanami doesn’t have to worry about waking up early to go into the office but he still rises with the sun to get his day started and do his favorite thing, which is to spoil you. Waking you up with gentle kisses, placing a hot espresso by the bedside and being your personal snooze button when you tell him 5 more minutes (he is so punctual it will be 5 mins on the dot). 

You will still likely end up strolling into the office late regardless though because knowing you, you can’t start your day until you’re squirting all over daddy. But this is Nanami, he is nothing if not efficient so your early morning romp is definitely in the shower where he can clean you up after in order to get you out of the door sooner, your breakfast is already packed to-go. 

WFH!Nanami love language is acts of service. You never stress about what to do for lunch either because there’s always a Michelin star worthy bento waiting for you next to your keys before you leave for the day. 

In fact, what Nanami doesn’t know is that his bento is famous not only around your office, as your envious coworkers gather round to see what your perfect husband has prepared for you today, but also on TikTok. The ‘KentosBentos’ TikTok account you made has over 350K followers who not only watch for the mouth watering yet nutritious bentos but to also hear you gush over the cute little notes your hubby leaves for you. 

Your top video has over 2.5 million likes and thousands of swooning women in the comments when WFH!Nanami made you an extra special lobster bento for your birthday and left you the note: ‘In all the world there is no love for me if I don’t have yours. Happy Birthday to my lovely wife, whose smile shines bigger and all the more brighter than the sun, moon and stars.’ 

Continuing with acts of service WFH!Nanami always has an equally delicious dinner ready for you when you get home. On days you work overtime and arrive home late, there's always a warm bubble bath waiting for you first. You love to rest with your back laid against Nanami’s utterly ripped torso in the tub while his thick arms envelope you. Relaxing into the safety of WFH!Nanami’s hold, your doting hubby kisses your temple and gives your keyboard fatigued hands a delicate massage. Nanami is nothing but a patient yet active listener while you recount your stressful day at work.

On days when you both get the opportunity to work from home you email WFH!Nanami a meeting invite to block off his calendar for 30 min during lunch. The invite is always titled ‘Ken and Barbie’s Lunch Meeting’. The location? ‘Pound Town’ The time? Noon, sharp!

Of course WFH!Nanami never actually schedules it on his work calendar lest his boss sees the meeting. (Gojo would never let him hear the end of it). As a result, since he never actually has the time officially blocked off, on some rare occasions he does actually get booked for a real lunch meeting at Noon that he cannot reschedule. 

Meeting or no meeting though you are determined to keep your lunchtime dick appointment with WFH!Nanami. A noon dicking is a noon dicking and it’s a non-negotiable for you as you don’t often get to stay home from work! 

WFH!Nanami is focused and poised during his camera-on meetings with his team. Therefore he doesn’t hear you open his office door. Nor does he see you as you drop to the floor with feline grace, hips swaying seductively as you crawl right under his desk. In fact, Nanami does not notice you at all until your soft hands grip his thick powerful thighs and you’re sliding your body up between his legs. Never faltering on-camera, WFH!Nanami’s stiffened jaw and tensed shoulders are the only tell-signs of you palming his rapidly hardening cock under the desk.

WFH!Nanami who tests the absolute limits of the stress ball he keeps handy (usually for tough negotiations) when he feels you press your hot mouth on the fabric covering his dick. You know your stoic husband won't ever outwardly falter when on the clock but you know inside he is a mess. That much is clear to you by the girth bulge straining against his tan fitted slacks.  

WFH!Nanami who knows you are upset about him working through your ‘lunch meeting’, but wishes you wouldn’t torture him like this while he’s on the clock. He can tell you are enjoying yourself though as your sinful little tongue drags tiny kitten licks over the hard bulge in his pants. Soon though you are pawing at his zipper and pulling his girthy cock free through the hole, not even bothering to undo his belt. Taking him fully into your mouth, WFH!Nanami bites his inner cheek, when his boss Gojo makes a comment on how he looks more tense than usual when he should be thrilled after closing the biggest deal of the year. 

WFH!Nanami who takes a long moment to deeply clear his throat before he calmly relays to Gojo that he is very pleased with the win but already thinking of the next big acquisition for their company. Yet Nanami’s voice hitches ever so slightly when your pink stiletto nails dig into his muscular thighs. It fools the rest of the team but Gojo merely raises a brow before cheerily moving on to the next subject. 

WFH!Nanami spares a look downward at you once the work conversation has shifted to see you gazing up at his mouth full of his cock. You wear an angelic look as if he can’t tell the hand that left his thigh and is now slotted between your own isn’t furiously rubbing at your clit. He knows you are pleased at finally drawing a reaction, even a small one, from him while on the clock.

WFH!Nanami whose eyes twitch when he’s closing the call he sees his boss Gojo’s knowing smile and hears the start of the question, “So Nanamin… is Y/N, working from home to–”

WFH!Nanami doesn’t stay to hear the end of the question, quickly exiting the call and ignoring the message pings full of raunchy emojis he receives from Gojo. 

WFH!Nanamiwho is still seated grabs you by your hair and ruthlessly face fucks you as soon as his camera turns off. He forces you swallow all eight and a half inches of him as you gag and slobber around his girth. Your jaw begins to ache but your eyes still roll back into your head with pleasure and you go limp in his grasp. You are willingly allowing your loving husband to turn your throat into his personal cocksleeve as you rub your cunt up against his leg, so close to cumming from the chafing of his slacks against your cunt.

Frustrated and annoyed it isn’t long before WFH!Nanami cums himself. His leg you are riding jerks up into you giving you the extra push you need as you moan around his cock and cream on his leg leaving a wet spot. WFH!Nanami has you choking down his thick seed. His cum and your drool dribble down the sides of your face when he finally slides out of the warm cavern of your throat cunny, leaving you panting as you try to catch your breath.

WFH!Nanami wordlessly wipes your face with the tissues he keeps on his desk and promptly ushers you out of this office, locking the door behind you. You aren’t upset though as you know what's in store for you once his work day is over. The locked door is more to keep him IN, than keep you OUT. Nanami would have to take the rest of the day off if he were to properly discipline you now. You being forced to wait and wonder how long he would take to finish his work was part of the punishment anyway.

You know WFH!Nanami is ready to administer your punishment once he calls you out by your FULL government name “Y/N Nanami!” Tonight is different and there is no dinner nor warm bath for you. Just a tired Nanami, weary of his bosses teasing and ready to take out all his frustrations on his wife’s naughty little cunt. 

Your cunt in question nearly starts voguing in anticipation as heat pools between your legs once you are called into the bedroom. You already know what time it is once you see WFH!Nanami loosen his tie and take off his belt slowly while sternly saying your name once more.

The belt and tie? 

Oh, the belt is used to tie your arms behind you and the tie is now a gag, for having such a filthy cock-loving little mouth he will tell you. It’s not long after that until you are face down, ass up getting pounded into the mattress as WFH!Nanami nearly cracks the headboard with the force he is using to thrust into you. Your cries of “K-Kento!” are muffled into the makeshift gag when a firm slap causes your ass to ripple more aggressively against his pelvis. 

Nanami growls deeply into your ear.

“Welcome to Pound Town, Barbie.”

Any muffled cries for mercy fall on deaf ears as WFH!Nanami is too focused on his retribution for your earlier antics as he continues to wreck your pussy from behind. His heavy balls smack against your clit and your sloppy cunt echos vulgar squelches that bounce off your bedroom walls and erotically ring in your ears. The hand pressing your head further into the pillow beneath you is the same hand Nanami wears his wedding band on. It glimmers brightly even in the dimly lit room.

WFH!Nanami loves seeing his ring and remembering his vows in the moment. 💖

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or graphics, do not translate.

a/n: Nanami brainrot overload (i wfh! lord god when is it my turn, bring me a nanami i BEG) and day 18 without adhd meds lol, finally finished something though. Nerd!Geto and The Nursery ft. Toji is soon I promise!

reblog to get your on WFH!Nanami but comments and likes are always appreciated!

[slytherheign]

YOU BELONG WITH ME | tasm!peter parker

PAIRING: high school senior!tasm!peter parker x high school senior!fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

SUMMARY: you can’t help but feel insecure when you realize your best friend peter and the most famous girl in the school are keeping a sweet secret from you.

WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, awkwardness, jealousy, insecurities, self-loathing, reader is an overthinker and assumes things easily. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. angst with happy ending. dedicated to @joshiiieeenesx, thanks for supporting me and requesting this. i hope you’re having a great day!

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS YBWM (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).

It was Friday Night.

Your favorite day and time of the week because of your tradition with Peter to order pizza and watch a movie. Tonight was a bit different though, you both decided to order your least favorite flavor of pizza and watch the lowest-rated movie ever. 

Peter made a joke in the middle of the movie, causing you to laugh and cover your face with your hands. It was a habit you developed since you were a kid when a bully made fun of you for having an ‘ugly-laughing’ face. “Stop,” he chuckled as he captured your wrists with his hands. “Stop what?” you questioned unknowingly, allowing him to hold your wrists and pull them away from your face. You stared at him confusingly.

“Stop covering your face when you laugh,” he said. “I can’t see your pretty face.” Peter would always make little comments here and there about you, most of them being compliments. You ought not to make it serious since you’d always tell flirty jokes to each other, but you just can’t help but feel a little flutter in your stomach every time he would compliment you.

You tried covering the increasing redness of your cheeks with laughter. “I’m serious. Stop covering your face,” he told you. “What if I told you I’m doing it on purpose?” you thought of a quick funny remark.  “And why, may I ask, are you doing it on purpose?” he quirked an eyebrow. 

“Let’s just say, if you see my beautiful face when I’m laughing, you might just fall in love,” you joked, smirking at him. There was a tinge of the color red in his cheeks, but he was quick to hide it with a chuckle.

“Well, why don’t you let me see your beautiful face then let’s see if I really fall in love?” he remarked. Once again, you laughed because you didn’t know how to respond. Peter was laughing with you when his phone suddenly rang. He quickly stood up, covering the name of the caller with his hand before walking to a private secluded room in his house to answer it. You didn’t mind it. After all, everyone deserved privacy when they’re talking to someone on the phone. Besides, you were actually quite thankful because the phone call interrupted the growing awkwardness in the room. You paused the movie while Peter talked on the phone in the other room.

Minutes passed and you were getting bored of waiting for him. You decided to pull your phone from your jeans pocket and open the Instagram app for a bit. Your feed was pretty much full of your schoolmates that were either busy preparing for prom next friday or busy with the upcoming game on Monday. You scrolled mindlessly, double-tapping each post from your close friends when you stumbled upon a post from her.

Gwen Stacy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect body. The cheer captain, head of the planning committee, the smartest in school… well, not the smartest because that would be Peter… but still the smartest girl in school. Having all that, you’d think she was the type to be the typical mean girl, but no… she’s actually the nicest.

In the picture, she was smiling with the other cheerleaders, their teeth as white as snow and their faces as beautiful as barbie dolls even when they were sweating. Sometimes you just wonder if they ever had a bad hair day or they’re just perfect all the time.

“Please! Gwen, come on!” you heard Peter yell. Gwen? Why was he talking to Gwen Stacy?

“Really? Yes!” you heard him exclaim excitedly. A pang of jealousy hit your chest, the feeling was unwelcome because you knew he wasn’t even yours to begin with. But still, it hurt.

The next thing you heard was his footsteps nearing the door. You collected yourself immediately, greeting him with a smile as he opened the door.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, with the same fucking smile you fell in love with. He sat next to you on the couch, subtly putting his arm on the back just around where your head was resting. He grabbed the remote from your hand, but for a few seconds, you felt it linger when his hand touched yours.

He pressed the play button and you both continued to watch the movie.

“Okay, just so we’re clear. You think Peter and Gwen are dating?” your other friend, Mary Jane, iterated on the phone. It was Sunday night, the only time MJ had free time this week since she was also a cheerleader.

“Yes,” you answered clearly. “I heard them talking on the phone the other night. Peter seemed really happy and excited.”

“And what do you feel about that?” she asked.

“Uh–I don’t know?” you admitted.

“I call bull. Come on, I know you’re in love with Peter.”

“Okay. I do have feelings for him… but I don’t think he feels the same about me. He probably asked Gwen to be his prom date even though we promised we’d take each other to the event.”

“So you’re not going to prom anymore?”

“I mean I already have a dress so I guess I’ll still go. It just sucks that I’ll be going without him.”

“Since when did you get a dress?!” 

“Uhh… since last week?” 

“And you didn’t even tell me?” she made a sound of absolute shock. Knowing her, you knew she probably had her hand on her chest while making that sound. “I could’ve helped you pick.”

“It’s not a problem honestly. Besides, I kinda wanted it to be a surprise?”

“Can you at least tell me the color?” she pleaded.

“Blue. Like the kind of blue in Spider-Man’s suit.”

“Weird way to describe a color. Is there a specific reason why you chose blue? I thought you never liked blue.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you but don’t tell anyone about this because I think Peter is kinda embarrassed about it… Peter is obsessed with Spider-Man. He’s such a huge fan of his–maybe even his number one fan. He even tried to hide it from me, but when I found a Spider-Man suit in his closet he just started getting really nervous and he only stopped when I told him it’s fine if he’s a fan. I’m not judging him, I think Spider-Man is really cool too,” you explained. “I was hoping he’d notice the color reference but now that he’s going with Gwen Stacy, I doubt he would even look at me.”

“You really think Peter would ignore you? Have you seen how that man looks at you?”

“He looks at everyone like that. It’s nothing special,” you denied.

“Listen, believe what you want to believe but I know Peter is definitely in love with you too. But if you did end up alone and out of place at the event, you’re welcome to sit with me.”

“Thanks, but you literally have a date. I don’t wanna be a third wheel,” you laughed. “I appreciate the thought though,” you exchanged goodbyes not long after that, wishing her good luck on their cheer performance.

You thought hard about what she said. Peter did become more clingy to you these last few months and he always made sure to text or call you every day. You guessed there really was a chance Peter shared the same feelings with you. 

Maybe he was just talking to Gwen as a friend.

You were at the gymnasium where you'd have to watch student-athletes pass the ball to each other, all having the same objective to shoot the ball in their respective goals. And when a member of a team claimed their shot, it would repeat all over again. 

You were never into sports. If you had a choice, you’d rather stay in bed and continue reading Looking For Alaska, but instead, you were stuck sitting on the bleachers while watching cheerleaders dance their routine in such a flawless manner. As much as you wanted to focus on MJ and support her, your eyes couldn’t help but look at Gwen. She really was mesmerizing.

You were too busy comparing her shiny legs and the way they moved with their short flowy skirts with your simple t-shirt and sneakers to even notice someone sitting beside you.

You continued watching Gwen dance, focusing on her pretty face and realizing that even in her sweaty condition she still kept dazzling everyone in the room with her beautiful smile. You noticed her wink in your direction. For a moment you thought she was winking at you, but when you followed the direction she was smiling at you noticed it was directed at someone beside you—Peter. 

Funny. You didn’t even know Peter was beside you.

“Hi?” you greeted, putting your best smile in front of him while your stomach ached from cruel jealousy.

“Hey,” he simply replied, before focusing on the phone he just got out of his pocket. He was busy texting someone. 

“So…you already have a suit for Friday?” you asked, trying to start a conversation. He shook his head. “Nope. But I plan on looking later today.”

“Cool. Do you want me to go with you? I don’t have anything to do after this,” you offered. 

He stopped and finally looked at you. You noticed how his eyes widened at your question and after mere seconds of looking at your eye, he looked away. He didn’t even need to open his mouth, his body language already told you that he already had someone he was going with.

You felt too sick to even hear his reply, immediately knowing the answer. You excused yourself, going straight to the bathroom to try to compose yourself and your body that was slowly starting to shake. You looked at yourself in the mirror, yelling inside your head to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. 

You and Peter were supposed to be inseparable. From childhood up until that moment earlier on the bleachers, you thought you would end up together.

All those years, you have convinced yourself you would be together and told the stars that he belonged with you.

But maybe he belonged with someone else.

And if you truly loved him, who were you to stop him from following his heart?

The moment you stepped inside the school tomorrow morning, Peter immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

If it was yesterday or the days before, you would’ve loved it and your stomach would’ve already been swarmed with butterflies. But today, all it felt was aching pain.

“Hey,” he kissed your cheek, a thing he always did whenever he saw you at school. “MJ told me you went home early yesterday because you weren’t feeling well. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve walked you home.”

“It’s fine, really,” you answered. It wasn’t fine, but how could you tell him he was the reason you couldn’t bear to stay at school yesterday?

“Well, I missed you. You got me really worried.”

And there it was again, the feeling of your heart jumping just from the words he said and how his voice spoke them. Was Gwen even okay with him putting his arm around your shoulder and walking with you in the hallways?

You did your best acting like everything was alright for the rest of today. Peter was busy texting Gwen for most of the time anyway, it wasn’t hard to convince him everything was fine.

Classes for Wednesday and Thursday were suspended to give way for prom preparations. You didn’t have much to do on Wednesday, so when MJ offered an idea to practice doing makeup and putting on the dresses to prepare for prom, you agreed.

You sat in your room in front of your vanity mirror while MJ did your makeup for you. She matched the eyeshadow with the color of your dress, and you must admit, she did amazing. Next was your hair, you requested it to be an updo, with the hairpins you picked out scattered attractively.

For a moment, you wondered what Peter could be doing right now. His house was just next to yours, his bedroom window facing yours and if you only pulled your curtains aside, you would see him through his window—if it wasn’t covered by his curtains.

Mary Jane snapped you back to reality by complimenting the details of the dress she just pulled out of your closet. “I need to see you in this dress now.”

You chuckled but complied nonetheless. With her help, you carefully put on the dark blue long dress. “Shit. This dress is made for you,” she complimented. It was true, you were indeed a vision. The dress hugged your body perfectly and the details were perfect to your liking. You never liked the color blue, but this dress got you second thinking. 

After putting on your heels, you checked yourself out in the mirror when MJ’s phone suddenly rang. “Peter? Hi,” she answered. As soon as she said his name, you turned around to face her.

“Are you okay?” MJ asked Peter. “You sound ill.”

“What’s happening?” you didn’t care anymore if Peter wasn’t talking to you. Something was wrong with him based on MJ’s reaction, and you were concerned.

“Oh my god.”

“MJ, what is it?” 

“Something is really wrong with him. I think we need to go to his hou–” she didn’t have the opportunity to finish her sentence when you immediately walked out of your room still in your dress and on your way to Peter’s house. MJ followed you but stayed outside Peter’s house. She smirked the moment you entered his house. Everything was going as planned.

Aunt May was thankfully on vacation somewhere, you couldn’t imagine her reaction if she saw you rushing towards her nephew’s room in a long dress and in heels. 

You carefully knocked on his bedroom door, announcing your presence. “Y/N?” he asked and you hummed in response. “I’m in here,” he answered from the next room. As far as you can remember, that room was an empty one. You weren’t sure why Peter was in there but in times of emergencies like this one, you didn’t care. “Can I open the door?” you asked.

“Yes.”

You did not expect what you saw.

The room was dark as a result of the windows being covered. On the floor were littered little candles with your favorite scent lit up to light the room in a romantic manner. There was an area left for you to walk leading to the middle of the room, which had a space just enough for two people. You also noticed the petals of roses scattered on the floor as a string version of your favorite song started playing. 

A figure emerged from the shadows—Peter. He offered his hand for you to take and only then when he led you to the middle did the fire from the candles revealed his outfit. He was wearing a suit that perfectly matched the color of your dress. You didn’t know how he knew the exact color of your dress, you would ask him that later.

You were both speechless, neither knowing what to say. “Wow…” he breathed out. “How could a person look so beautiful? You are unreal.”

“Thank you,” you blushed. “You look handsome too.”

He held your hand and guided it towards his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it before holding each of your hands with both of his.

“Peter?” you started to say. “What–”

“You know I prepared a whole speech just for this moment,” he interrupted. “And then as soon as I saw you, I just forgot every single thing in the world because you’re the only one that matters.”

Tears were starting to gloss your eyes but before you could start crying from his sentiment, you asked him a question that has been vexing you for quite a while.

“What about Gwen?”

His face was quick to react to your question. His forehead scrunched up, looking at you as if to tell you if you could emphasize your question.

“I thought you were together. You were talking to each other pretty much the whole week. You were texting and calling each other, she was with you when you picked your suit, and then I saw her wink at you at the game.”

His face slowly dawned with realization. As soon as he realized what you were talking about, he couldn’t help but laugh. But upon seeing your worried face, he stopped laughing at once and looked straight into your eyes with absolute seriousness.

“Gwen and I are nothing more than just friends. We are not together. We’ve been talking to each other a lot because I asked her for help on how to surprise you. She also helped me pick the right suit so I wouldn’t embarrass myself with a lousy one. She winked at me at the game because she was excited that after the game ended, we would set up this surprise. And also because I was sitting next to you in the bleachers, she kinda saw me stare at you while you were busy watching the cheer routine. The wink was just her teasing and being excited. It doesn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s only you. I only want you.”

“Shit. So I really just overthought the whole situation,” you chuckled. “I’m so stupid.”

“No, you’re not stupid. Don’t invalidate your feelings, It’s completely understandable. If I was you I’d think the same too.”

After a short moment of soft understanding silence, you felt him stiffen. His hands now held yours a little bit tighter. “Can I ask you a question?” he finally said.

“Let me guess, you want me to be your prom date?” you tried to ease the tension with the obvious question.

“Yes, and no.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I want to take you to prom, yes. But that’s not the only thing I want. I want to take you on dates, I want to dance with you not just at events organized by the school, I want to buy you flowers, every day if I can; I want to watch scary movies with you and laugh when you’re too scared and you hide yourself with a pillow, I want to watch sad movies with you and bring you tissues and cuddle you the moment you cry, I want to watch romantic movies with you and cringe together when the characters do something embarrassing and wrap my arms around you when you blush at something sweet that they do. I want the tears, the pain, the frustration, the confusion, the sweetness, the laughter—everything. I want everything. With you.”

“Pete…”

“We’re seniors. Next year, we’re going to college. We will take on different paths and places, but before that even happens, I want you to be my place that’s never changing. And if you feel the same, I want to be your place that’s never changing too. You have been my best friend since we were kids, and I don’t want my memory of us to be just two people being friends since childhood,” he said before resting his forehead against yours. “I am in love with you, Y/N L/N. Would you be willing to enter a relationship that’s more than friends with me?”

Tears glossed over your eyes again, but this time, you let one fall. Peter was quick to wipe it with his hand. “Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not hold it against you. Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not cross the line of being more than friends. Know that I will not force you into a relationship you do not want. Tell me if you don’t feel the same and I–”

“Yes,” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. “The answer is yes. I am in love with you as well, Peter Parker. I have been for a long time.”

Peter smiled, now feeling his own tears try to escape his eyes but he didn’t let them fall. “May I dance with you?”

You chuckled but agreed, letting him guide you into position. Your forearms rested on his shoulders, your hands softly stroking the back of his neck while his hands were positioned at both sides of your waist. As the music still played in the background, you both started swaying.

“I can’t take my eyes off of you. You’re gorgeous,” he commented. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Your suit even matched my dress,” you said back.

“I’ll have to thank MJ for that.”

“Wait–MJ is a part of this?” 

“Of course, she is. How’d you think I knew the color of your dress?”

You suddenly remembered the conversation you had with MJ when she asked you about the color of your dress. And then you also remembered that MJ was the reason why you were even inside Peter’s house right now in the first place. Peter called her and then she said that something was wrong with him and urged you to come here. Where was she even now anyways?

Peter laughed as he watched your face change from confusion to realization. “You know what–I’ll give it to y’all. You, Gwen, and MJ are good at this,” you admitted.

“The dressing up with our prom outfits and dancing was my idea though,” he spoke as he guided you into a spin. “I wanted our first dance to be private, not in a room filled with other students.”

You saw him glance at your lips for a moment before looking back into your eyes. “I also want to do this,” he said as he leaned in closer and met your lips with his.

You’ve imagined this moment ever since your heart started beating for him. But still, the feeling of his lips against yours for real was better than what you’d imagined it to be. The kiss was soft but intimate, neither of you having a need to rush into things but at the same time making up for lost time pining over each other silently. You wished you could kiss him forever and stay like this but you eventually needed to pull away to breathe.

“So, you really thought I was in love with Gwen?” he teased while you were catching your breath.

“Way to ruin the moment,” you chuckled, lightly punching his arm before nodding.

“Shit. I really made you jealous?” he seemed really proud of what he had done from the way he was smirking.

“Are you happy?” you jokingly asked, rolling your eyes with fake annoyance.

“Am I happy? Of course, I am. I just kissed you.”

You couldn’t find the words to reply as you blushed harder than you’d ever blushed before. Instead, you just laughed out of blissful happiness.

For the first time ever, he saw you laugh without covering your face and it was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He couldn’t help but kiss you again.

Needless to say, the future was exciting.

If only he could tell you that he was Spider-Man.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST:  @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 ​ @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan

[pupkashi]

gojo satoru masterlist !

* fluff ^ angst

— all for my angel boy <3

main masterlist // gojo masterlist cont.

* boyfriend!gojo hcs

* rainy evenings

in which gojo gets himself caught in the rain

* christmas cuddles

gojo finds his place in the universe

* arcades

arcades are scams, he knows, but dammit gojo will win you that prize

* flowers

gojo is a self-certified flower enthusiast

* periods

gojo is an angel on earth when you get your period

* sugar rush ride

gojo loves sugar, and you’re too sweet to resist

* priorities

gojo has his priorities straight: you’ll always be the most important

* rough day

gojo will always cheer you up after a rough day

* mornings

satoru loves mornings with you

* egg hunting

gojo’s never been easter egg hunting, you decide it’s time for the famous bunny to pay him a visit

* sunday love

sundays with gojo are slow and sweet

* grocery shopping headcanons

*^ jealousy, jealousy

the worst part of dating gojo? how often he gets hit on

* movie night

satoru gojo has developed a new weakness: romcoms

* migraine

gojo helps ease the pain of your migraine

* picnics

in which mother nature decides picnics are no good without a little rain

* after like

you and satoru say the L word

* my you

gojo learns he loves stargazing

* titles

in which gojo realizes you truly see him

* going to an observatory

* costume parties

* a scenic drive with him

* time

gojo will always make sure you’re taken care of

*^ hugs

“can i hug you? you look like you could do with it”

* sweet nothing

gojo always finds himself running home to you

* clean linen

gojo’s second favorite smell is your laundry detergent

* untitled

the last person you expect to patch you up is gojo satoru, so why are you knocking on his door?

* azul

when you think of love, you think of the color blue

* oranges

gojo knows how to peel oranges

* pretty boy

gojo has to let you know how much you mean to him

* sick

gojo’s favorite hobby is being your personal nurse

* scrapbooks

satoru isn’t a sentimental person, until he is

*^ nightmares

satoru has nightmares, but also long as you’re by his side he knows he’ll be okay

* easy

loving is easy when it’s gojo satoru

*^ scars

gojo learns to love the scars on his body

*^ arguments

arguments are never nice, but at least they help you grow

* birthmarks

even in his past lives, satoru was always loved

* pizza time!

or the one time satoru tries to make pizza from scratch and is effectively banned from ever trying again

* mistletoe-go

satoru comes up with a new Christmas tradition

* new year, new superstition

whoever said wearing red on new years brought love was onto something

* kisses

satoru always makes sure your lips are well kissed

* volví a nacer

gojo feels life start anew now that you’re by his side

* f1 racer!satoru hc’s

* to love is to linger

* cereal, soup and other deep questions

* “what do you think you’d be doing if we never met?”

* “you’re bleeding!” “I was trying to cut the tomatoes!”

* “i have a meeting in an hour! get out of the bathroom!”

* “you’re my everything”

* "what do you mean you've never gone trick-or-treating?!"

* going to the fair hcs

* collegebf!satoru

* study buddy!satoru

* birthday special <3

* satoru loves yapping [to you]

* drabble #1

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[dragonbarbie]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 | Part 2

aegon x best friend!reader ; modern!au

series summary: this fic is snippets of aegon and reader's relationship as they grow up and discover new feelings. but to let himself be loved, aegon has to first do some growing up. loosely inspired by the tv series one day!

rating: 18+, minors dni.

tags: alcohol, substance abuse, making out, titty sucking, blink and youll miss it dry humping (lmk if i missed something)

word count: 5.1k

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series masterlist

A/N: im so overwhelmed by the response to the first chapter! im so sorry this took so long, this chapter was originally well over 8k so ive just decided to split it, which means the next chapter is pretty much ready maybe ill have it up by wednesday. thank you so much to everyone who interacted, hope you like this. [not beta read!]

lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

divider credit @cafekitsune ! title of fic is from 'peter' by taylor swift.

Age 18

“i think that’s enough pictures, mum.” y/n held up her arms to shield herself from any more photographs her mother might take. she felt self-conscious enough already, grimacing at every picture, thinking how the flaws glaringly stood out. her parents thought she looked beautiful as always though, and wanted as many photos as possible to keep as memories of their daughter’s special night. only she didn’t want to believe there was anything so ‘special’ about it anyway.

she heard an impatient car honk coming from outside, just in time for her to make her exit. “let me at least take a picture of you and your date.” her well-meaning mother attempted, earning a whine from her daughter, “for the last time he’s not my date.” not really he wasn’t, they were just going as mates, nothing more, she reminded herself as she waved her parents a quick goodbye.

then why did her stomach flutter seeing aegon leaning against his irritatingly green, flashy sports car. taking a drag of his cigarette, his platinum hair was mostly gelled back, few strands allowed to fall to his eyes either fashionably or as a result of hurry. he was dressed simply, black suit and a white shirt. but seven hells did he wear the hell out of that suit, y/n had to admit. he looked neater than usual, the light stubble he usually carried had now been shaved off, his eyes didn’t look nearly as red as she was accustomed to. he even wore dress shoes, when truthfully y/n had been betting on him showing up in his usual jordans.

she couldn’t help but beam as she realised walking towards him, that all this effort he had made for her. aegon hadn’t even wanted to go to their senior prom. he’d said he would simply throw the after-party for the prom back at his mansion, where he wouldn’t be required to ‘come dressed as a penguin,’ in his words. the entire school knew about aegon’s famous ragers by now, and the night of senior prom was guaranteed to be the greatest ‘one-last-hurrah’.

it was y/n who had wanted to go, in order to live the full high school experience before they would be forced to enter the adult world after summer. and there was no one else she would have rather taken to prom. so, after countless hours begging and pleading (and some threatening), aegon finally relented. but his acquiescence hadn’t guaranteed to her that he would even bother following the dress code. yet, here they were.

she was going to comment on what a pleasant surprise it was to see him look like a ‘penguin,’ when she saw the look on his face. his eyes were suddenly alert and his mouth slightly agape, cigarette in his hand forgotten momentarily with his hand hanging still in the air holding it.

“what is it? do i have something on my face? on the dress?” she patted her cheek in alarm, before looking down at her dress. she’d chosen a simple black, satin dress that hugged her just right, pairing it with the deepest red lipstick she could find. she smoothened the front in anxiety, scared her high heels were going to make her trip on the fabric any second.

“no, it’s just...you look nice. very pretty.” her eyes focussed on aegon’s trying to gauge his expression, but his gaze remained transfixed on her figure.

“is it that shocking that i would look pretty, that you have to go and make that face?” she snorted. that snapped aegon’s attention back to her face with an eyeroll, “i didn’t mean it like that and you know it. you look good, would it kill you to just take the compliment?” her lips turned upwards at his words, “yeah i’m just messing with ya.” she tried to hide how the praise made her feel warm inside her chest.

“you don’t look so bad yourself, targaryen. look you’re even wearing the shoes and everything.” aegon grinned at the words giving a quick twirl to show off his full look. “who knew you had it in you?” she teased.

“had to step up my game. can't let my date outshine me, can i?"

date? the word rang in her ears. did aegon think this was an actual date?

“oh, please,” she tried to maintain a cool façade, seemingly uncaring of his words, “i've always outshined you.”

“only because i let you.” he claimed, flashing her one of those lazy half smiles of his that would make her mind wander to what else he was capable of doing with those lips—

she immediately shook her head to get that image out of her mind.

“got you something. well, technically mum got you something” aegon opened the passenger seat of the car, and retrieved from it a beautiful, very expensive looking bouquet. “she wouldn’t let me leave the house without flowers for my date” there it was, that word again, ‘date’!  she thought, astonished as she received them.

did aegon think this was a date? a date-date? was he expecting something? did she expect something? her mind started to race with a hundred things.

she had to clear her throat to bring herself back to the present, “these are beautiful, tell alicent i love them.”

“great, can we go now? i want to get the boring part over with so we can properly party later at my place.”

the prom itself ended up being less dreadful than aegon had been sure it was going to be. aegon spiked the drinks, and then proceeded to get his friends leon and martyn as drunk as possible. it didn’t escape y/n’s notice that aegon himself, was merely buzzed. she even dared to hope for a second that he was limiting his cups out of respect for her, and her very known hatred of his drinking himself into blackouts.

he remained clear-headed enough to laugh about and reminisce with her over their years at the academy. “no, i remember clearly, you’ve never once said sorry about making me fall on my first day.” y/n accused as she attempted to drink the very strong punch aegon had made for her. “and i remember very clearly, you came in my way.”

she narrowed her eyes at his blatant lie. “cunt.” he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him at her drunken-vitriol. “and i think that’s quite enough for you.” he grabbed the cup out of her hands in spite of protests. “good gods, aegon targaryen preaching moderation? must be the apocalypse.” she nudged him playfully.

in that moment, smiling and laughing with her best friend, she couldn’t help but realise that this time of their life was coming to an end. come fall, they would be on different sides of the country.

y/n had been accepted at her first choice, sunspear university only weeks ago, but she hadn’t discussed it with aegon. he hadn’t spoken of his plans for university either but helaena had told her that their grandfather was using his pull to get him into the family alma mater, oldtown college.

any time she had attempted to so much as talk about life beyond school with aegon himself though, aegon would get irritated and cagey, eager to shut down any and all conversations about the future. then again she couldn’t blame him, for some reason her first instinct too had been to hide that acceptance letter from him.

yet as they stood there, she had a feeling that he was thinking about the same great uncertainty that lay ahead too. thinking, that their days of being by each other’s side like this every day were numbered.

“come on” he suddenly offered her his arms, getting a puzzled look in return. “you wanted the ‘full high school experience’ right? dancing at prom is kinda the main thing.”

she let him lead her to the dance floor, feeling her cheeks going red. he brought them right in the middle, and when he placed her arms around his neck, his own hands becoming placed around her waist, she couldn’t find a word to say.

couples around them were slow dancing to some song she couldn’t quiet place, and she couldn’t believe that aegon had willingly placed himself in the scene around them. this suit, the shoes, the dancing, the flowers – none of it was remotely close to his scene. yet she had barely heard him complain. she had to give it to him, he had been on his best behaviour because he knew how much the night meant to her.

“thank you,” she finally said, looking at him with adoration in her eyes. “for agreeing to come.”

aegon’s expression was unreadable at first. after a second he seemed like he was going to lean in towards her to say something, when his eye caught something behind y/n shoulder.

she turned her neck to see who it was and felt her heart drop down in her stomach.

cassandra baratheon, the most sought-after girl at school, her golden hair and confident demeanour were hard to miss. y/n looked up to see aegon was transfixed on the tight red dress she wore.

she felt his hands drop from her waist, “get you something to drink?” but he didn’t so much as look at his friend.

“sure” she mumbled, trying to mask her disappointment, but he didn’t wait for a response before he started walking towards the blonde.

she watched as aegon approached cassandra, his charm on full display. y/n sighed, tired of how predictable his routine was. she danced with a few classmates, trying to keep her spirits up, but it wasn’t the same without aegon.

after a while, she grew tired of pretending and slipped out of the ballroom, certain she wasn’t going to be followed by the only person she wanted to be with. she started walking in the direction of her home, too angry to think to call someone to pick her up.

the sound of her heels against the pavement and the chattering of her own teeth from the unexpectedly cold night couldn’t distract her from her woeful thoughts.

she should have expected this, she chided herself. aegon’s attention had always been fleeting, especially when it came to pretty girls. but it still hurt. she had hoped, maybe just for tonight, things would be different. at the beginning of the night he’d been giving her all his attention, and making her feel as if she was the only one who mattered in that room.

yet, he had to go ahead and ruin that, by chasing one more skirt to add to his long list of distractions from anything that could actually matter.

when she reached her house she was grateful her parents had long since gone to bed, not wanting to talk about her night.  she walked up to her room and changed into some comfortable clothes.

she curled up on her bed, but sleep seemed to escape her. she tossed and turned but she could not forget the look on her best friend’s face when he looked at cassandra baratheon, ignoring her. she couldn’t help but wish that the way his eyes trailed down her figure, the open lust with which he watched her, the desire that carried him away from her – she wanted it all to be hers.

it was perhaps the first time she had admitted it to herself. she wanted this, she wanted him and not just as a friend.

her mind then wandered to that one moment of hope she had not dared to let herself dwell on. the way his hands felt rested on her back, how he looked for a split second as if he were going to lean in to her, what might that have felt like if it had been allowed to go on? would he have kissed her? would his lips have felt as soft as they looked? would his tongue—

she didn’t realise when in the middle of all these wandering thoughts her hand had slipped down to underneath her shorts. over the cloth of her panties, she could feel a wetness building as she slowly rubbed the top of her entrance, her imagination building up the tension between her legs.

just as she was getting comfortable though, she got the fright of her life when she heard her window open. “fuck me!” she sat up straight on her bed, clutching her blanket in front of her chest.

she let out an exasperated breath at the now-messy platinum hair glinting in the moonlight, that she could make out even in the darkness of her room. she moved to get up and turn on the lamp next to her bed. the light revealed a slightly different aegon to the one she had left back at the dance, stumbling into her room.

his jacket now gone, his white shirt was untucked and the first few buttons had been left undone (one of them was missing, from what she could tell), the semi-open shirt allowed her to make out lipstick smears trailing his chest. his eyes were red, and the fact that he couldn’t seem to walk straight, told her he’d returned to drinking at his usual pace once she’d made her exit.

“what are you doing here?” she sighed, crossing her arms across her chest, both defensively and because her bra had been long discarded, which left the tank top she wore revealing far too much for her liking.

he almost looked earnest when he answered “came looking for you. you never showed up to the party at my place.”

“yeah, well i don’t like your parties” “sure you do!” he snorted

“no, aegon i don’t! i never have. i only ever come for you and i’m miserable the entire while, and you never notice!”

he looked hurt at her accusation, blinking as if it had never crossed his mind that she didn’t enjoy getting high and causing chaos as much as he did. that hurt quickly turned into anger of his own as he shot back.

“fine, even if you didn’t wanna come to the party, why did you leave prom so early? for weeks it’s all you wanted to do, going to prom. you dragged my ass there and then just ‘puff’ i turn my back for one second, and you’ve disappeared.” he sounded almost as if he felt abandoned, wounded.

“you seemed busy.” she cooly replied.

“busy?” aegon echoed, his brows furrowing. “i was just talking to people.”

y/n shook her head, her eyes reflecting a mix of hurt and frustration. “you always do this, aegon. you leave me for the first pretty girl that catches your eye.”

he shook his head as if y/n were being the unreasonable one here “it’s not like that.”

“then what is it like?” she demanded, her voice rising. “because it feels like you’re always looking for a distraction. and tonight, i needed you.” her eyes burned as tears pooled in them. “it was our last night in school. it meant something.”

he flinched at her words, the truth of how much he had bruised her, cutting through the haze of alcohol. “i didn’t mean to—"

“didn’t mean to what? make me feel invisible?” y/n's voice softened, the anger giving way to sadness. “it’s like you don’t care.”

aegon stood there, steadying himself by leaning against the desk, looking deflated. “i do care, y/n. you’re my best friend.” she could tell he was trying, trying to make her see he cared, trying to be a good friend. the fact that he had left his own party simply to come look in on her, hadn’t gone unnoticed by her.

but unluckily for him, y/n was tired of his constant trying when she knew it never led to any real change.

she took a deep breath, steadying herself. “we need to talk about something else, too. we’ve been avoiding it all year.”

aegon looked up at her, confusion and apprehension mingling in his eyes. “what do you mean?”

“college, aegon. you’re going to oldtown, and i’m headed to sunspear,” y/n said, her voice trembling slightly. “i’ve tried to bring it up, but you always change the subject.”

he looked away from her, fiddling with the rings on his fingers almost anxiously. “because i don’t want to think about it.”

“well too bad, because we have to discuss it” she insisted. “this is big. we’ve never so much as spent one summer break apart, you’ve dragged me to every family vacation and christmas dinner. but come fall, that’s over. you don’t think that’s important enough to even talk about? doesn’t it matter to you at all?”

“of course it matters!” he finally spat out, taking stumbling steps towards her. “i don’t want to talk about it because i know it’ll change everything.”

aegon’s eyes were glassy, his emotions threatening to spill over. “because you’ll be far away, making new friends, living a different life. you get to conveniently walk out on me and my fuck ups. i don’t want to talk about it because you’re leaving me.”

“leaving you?” the aegon that stood before her was shaking like a scared child, gone was the playful, laid back popular boy. for the first time that night, she could see clearly through him, the first time he’d allowed her to.

y/n moved closer, taking his hands in hers. “aegon, i could never leave you.” she promised. “you’re a part of me. distance doesn’t change that.”

“you say that now…” he mumbled, looking away as she caught tears running down his cheek.

“i’m not leaving you,” she repeated, more firmly this time, her heart aching for him. “we’ll find a way to make it work. i promise.”

“do you really mean that?” her hand reached out to his cheek, wiping away his tears with the pad of her thumb. “with all my heart,” she whispered. the vulnerability in his eyes was raw and unfiltered as he confessed “i don’t want to lose you.”

“you won’t,” she assured him, putting her arms around him as she pulled him into a tight embrace. “we’ll figure it out, together.” she sounded sure, determined.

he clung to her, and she could smell the weed and cigarettes on his shirt, she knew that he wasn’t as clear-headed as he should have been for the conversation they were having. “i don’t know what i’d do without you, y/n.” he muttered into her hair. she smiled against his chest. “lucky for you, you don’t ever have to find out.”

as one of his hands trailed down to her lower back, she suddenly felt her shorts were far too short for her to be having company. his other hand started to rub at her side, his thumb brushing up against the side of her breast and lingering just enough that she knew he could tell she was bare beneath her flimsy cotton top.

they’d been standing in silence for a minute when he suddenly spoke up, “i’m sorry that i mess everything up, you deserved to have me there with you tonight.”

his hand had stopped right by her cleavage, causing her throat to dry up. “it was just a stupid dance.”

“yeah, but it mattered to you.” he brought his other hand to her ass, as he pulled apart slightly to look down at her. her breathing became rapid as she looked back up at him.

in that moment, the tension between them shifted. aegon leaned in, his lips brushing against hers hesitantly. y/n responded, closing the distance again, with more passion.

there was a sense of urgency, a rush as his tongue entered her mouth. the hand on her ass moved to slip past her shorts and panties to grab at her bare skin, causing her to moan into his mouth. her own hands attempted to undo the few remaining buttons on his dress shirt, before letting her fingers roam around his exposed chest.

he pushed them back, till she felt the edge of her bed behind her making her fall back on it, pulling him down with her as she went.

his mouth moved to trail sloppy, wet kisses on her neck, and then down to her collarbone. she could feel him use his teeth, marking her for the next day.

situated as he was between her legs, she could feel his semi-hard on from under his pants, rubbing against her in the most delicious way making her wrap her legs tighter around him, to feel that friction more intensely.

his mouth broke away from her now-sensitive skin momentarily, as he lifted her top enough to expose her breasts to him. his hands roughly gripped the flesh, making y/n gasp with how cool his rings felt pressed to her skin.

his mouth then took in one of her nipples, as she whimpered at the sensation, her fingers pulling his hair as he flicked it with his tongue, before sucking on it.

when he finally lifted his head to look up at y/n, she couldn’t believe the scene before her. in that moment aegon was looking her with a hunger and wanting, that she didn’t think he’d even given cassandra baratheon.

what might come next though, made y/n nervous. she’d never gone this far with a boy before, reasoning with herself that she’d never liked anyone enough. but she could admit to herself now that she’d been waiting to share that experience with aegon, waiting for him to come around.

still, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to go all the way, or how to do it if she was.

thankfully for her, aegon reached ahead and merely kissed her lips once more, softer this time. then, even more unexpectantly, he placed a final, tender kiss atop her head, before climbing off from between her thighs and crashing down on the pillow beside her.

she blinked at the figure of him, lying next to her completely relaxed, as if what they’d just done was so routine, it didn’t warrant another thought. “get that lamp light next to you, would you?” he yawned.

as if in a daze, y/n wordlessly switched the light off, plunging the room into darkness.

she could hear him breathing beside her, close enough to block her nose with the smell of cigarettes she was sure she’d have to wash out of the sheets the next day. but with his pale hair falling like that against his fluttering eyes, she knew he was the only person she wanted, flaws and all.

drowsiness began to take over her after sometime, and she wasn’t sure if she actually heard him mumbling “love you” or if she’d dreamt it but she drifted off with a faint smile on her face nonetheless.

the morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over y/n’s room. she stirred awake, stretching out lazily when her eyes fell on to the snoring boy beside her. she couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful his face looked, her hand stretching out to tuck behind the strands of platinum falling to his eyes.

she tried to be as quiet as she could in walking to her bathroom. standing in front of her mirror, she noticed the now purpling hickey right by her collarbone. she still couldn’t quite believe that the events of last night had actually occurred, but the evidence was staring her right in the face. her fingertips grazed the bruise, and the corners of her lips turned upwards automatically.

she washed her face and brushed her teeth in a haze, where all she could think about was what was going to happen next. would she and aegon have a conversation about it, or would he pretend it was nothing? oh god, what if he regretted it? the thought made her tense. instead of going back to her room she sat on the edge of her bathtub, nervously thinking about what impact last night would have on their friendship. she couldn’t imagine losing aegon, she thought. if it came down to taking whatever happened yesterday forward or saving their friendship, she would pick the latter, she determined. before she could lose her nerve, she decided to go back to her room with that thought.

upon her return she realised the object of all her anxiety was already up, rubbing his eyes with his palms and groaning, clearly nursing a hangover. her heart suddenly started to pound in her chest. “you’re up early. it’s not even noon yet.” she teased as she came to sit by him. “and morning to you too” he grumbled.

“how are you feeling?” she hesitantly asked, “like i got hit by a bus,” he said, attempting a weak grin.

she gave him a faint chuckle. she looked around the room as silence filled the space. she was hoping that he’d be the one to bring up last night, rather than making her go through the embarrassment and awkwardness of coming to that topic.

how did you even start that conversation? she wondered as she pulled at a few strands of embroidery coming untethered from the rest of her bedsheet. ‘hey last night was the best kiss i’ve ever had, let’s do it again sometime soon’? no, that wasn’t it. she stole a glance at aegon who had picked up his phone, neither of them having said anything to break the silence. i could start by telling him how i’ve always liked him? no that would definitely activate his commitment-phobia, and he’d go running out the door, she realised. sitting this long without either of them talking felt far too weird and she started to panic slightly.

she kept thinking if he was going to approach the topic, wondering if she should instead, when suddenly aegon got off her bed.

“what have we got here” he walked over to the basket where some of her old toys had been kept for her mother to donate when she went to college. “nothing just some old things” she replied, surprised that this was what he wanted to discuss now. he seemed to be entertaining himself by going through her things as if he hadn’t been in her room a hundred times before.

well, if he was going to avoid it, y/n decided she should be the one to rip off the band-aid. she cleared her throat to start speaking, when he suddenly cut her off, “do you still have that lightsabre i gave you for your 12th birthday? the one that used to light up and all?” “no, because you broke it playing with it in my garden that same day you gifted it.” she reminded him, “right…” he muttered, before going back to his rummaging.

this time she stood up and walked over to him, and started to say, “y’know i think we should talk—” “what’s ollie doing here?” grinning, he grabbed an old red octopus from the basket and lifted one of its stuffed tentacles to wave at her. “did this mean old lady steal you from me ollie?” “no, you stole him from me, remember? and alicent had to return it back” she reminded him, snatching the toy back from him in irritation. if he was going to keep mucking about, she was never going to be able finish what she wanted to say.

she exhaled a big sigh, and built up her courage again, “we have to talk about last night—” “yeah, what did happen last night?”

she could only blink, as aegon nonchalantly asked, not even bothering to look up from the box of broken, dusty toys. “what do you mean ‘what happened’?”

“as in how did i end up in your bed?” he laughed, “don’t remember much after us arriving at prom” her heart sank at his words. “you blacked out.” she said in realisation. she turned around and walked back to sit on her bed so he wouldn’t see her wounded expression.

he didn’t even remember what was possibly one of the biggest moments of her life, something so monumental that she’d woken up this morning as if waking up to a new life. all those years she'd spent unknowingly pining for him, she’d thought that now there was finally some hope that she could actually be with him. but one little sentence from him had made her memory of last night dissipate like a mirage.

what had she even been thinking, he was drunk out of his mind and was probably barely in knowledge of himself when they did what they did last night. it was a mistake, and it should have never happened. she couldn’t control the tears slipping down her cheeks, her back facing aegon to shield herself subconsciously.

“you were pretty drunk. you climbed up to my room and we talked for a while. you fell asleep here.” she answered in robotic narration, not daring a look at him. she wiped her face quickly as she heard him stop with his aimless search and come sit next to her.

“sounds accurate. i do anything stupid i should know about?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern. it was the standard question he asked when he blacked out. for a second, she wondered if she should tell him everything.

y/n shook her head, smiling faintly. “no, you didn't. just needed a place to crash.”

she thought about it rationally – even if they did talk about last night, what was going to be the best-case scenario? he would be glad of what he did? but even then, what would happen next? she was going to dorne, and him to the reach, and a long distance anything was going to be impossible enough. here they were nervous about their friendship surviving the distance, but a relationship? she couldn’t see any way this would end well.

and this was considering if aegon even wanted any of it. last night may have been special for her, but if drunken fooling around and crashing into bed was all it took to get him to pursue someone romantically, half the school was ahead of her in that line.

this was the best thing for both of them, she sadly thought, to preserve their friendship.

him putting his arm across her shoulders and squeezing her brought her out of her miserable thoughts, “thanks for looking out for me, as always.”

“of course,” she replied softly. “that's what friends are for.”

aegon met her gaze, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “yeah, best friends.”

a few minutes later she left momentarily to get herself a glass of water but by the time she returned, her room was empty with her window left open and her red octopus missing once again from her bed.

[girlfromthecrypt]

Note: This is merely a pitch introduction post. My main project remains Such Happy Campers. I have no title in mind for this IF (suggestions are welcome), although I am very passionate about the idea and will work on it on the side while I write SHC.

You are... or were one of the most famous yet mysterious characters in the 21st century pop-rock scene. 

It all started when you discovered your love for singing during an extended stay at a psychiatric hospital as a teen. Music became your motivator, and from then on, you knew the stage was where you belonged. Your friends agreed… and that is how your band came to be. After years of practice in your friend’s mother’s garage and cheap gigs at dingy bars, your journey to the top begins abruptly when you team up with a skilled manager.

It's a meteoric rise— until it isn’t. 

And now, a decade after your band has withdrawn from the public eye, you’ve accepted an interview by the acclaimed Groove Magazine. You and your former band members have agreed to give them the truth, the whole truth; as ugly as that might be. 

Follow the story of your band’s rise to fame (and eventual fall from grace)

Play as a pop-rock vocalist

Name your band and customize your music, lyrics and image

Handle the media, interactions with pushy fans and your own repressed thoughts and fears 

Romance your coolgirl-bassist, the childhood friend you cut out of your life, your absolutely insane guitarist, or your biggest fan/stalker

Give one hell of an interview

Inspiration: Daisy Jones and The Six, Fleetwood Mac

TW: themes of mental illness, substance abuse, death, mentions of suicide, suicidal ideation and self-harm, unhealthy relationship dynamics

ROs:

Stevie McLaughlin, bassist (f) — “I suppose I was the sanest one in that bunch.”

She’s one of your oldest friends, and if you follow the clanking chain of cause and effect all the way back to the beginning, it is her you have to thank for your entire career. The band was her idea, after all. She’s level-headed, composed, and always there to talk you down when you need her. Sometimes, she acts more as your retainer than anything else…

Paul/Paulette Zima, lead singer & saxophonist (f/m selectable, trans) — “Trying to figure out where you know me from?”

Your band’s brand-new, second lead singer. Your manager says they’re going to give your music the kick it needs, that they’re the one missing ingredient to your success. You’re not entirely sure if you agree. Worse yet, you happen to know this person, and your time together didn’t end on a favorable note. They’re part of a past you would much rather forget. 

Angel Monsanto, guitarist (m) — “I was always going to make it big, with or without those guys. Only, I… I really wanted it to be with them.”

Your crazy but good-hearted guitarist. His passion for music borders on obsession, and he will stop at nothing to make a name for your band. Sadly, he’s very much of the conviction that all publicity is good publicity, which has encouraged him to pull some very questionable stunts in the past. 

Lincoln Saunders, groupie?? (f/m selectable) — “What can I say, I loved them. When they first walked out onto that stage, it felt like my heart was going to explode.”

Calling Lincoln a fan would be an understatement. Fanatic is more like it. You remember seeing them at your very first show, and you’ve continued to spot them at every venue you’ve played at since. You don’t know anything about them, and perhaps changing that would be a very bad idea. But maybe you still want to.

Others:

Fatima Shah (f), drummer — “I’m pretty sure they tried to make me disappear with their fog machine.”

After things didn’t work out with your original drummer, Fatima saved the day. She’s a sweetheart to you, but from what you’ve heard, she can be kind of a terrible person. Maybe it’s best to stay a little wary of her.

Kalena Graham (f), manager — “The first time I saw them… well, they kind of sucked. But I knew, I just knew, that they had what it takes to suck on an international level.”

Your band’s manager. You can’t believe how lucky you were to have caught her attention. She’s experienced, driven, well-regarded in the industry and… kind of mean.

Simon Young (m), reporter — “Start at the beginning. And then, don’t stop.”

The guy conducting the interview for Groove Magazine. He’s nice enough, if a little starstruck. It seems he has been waiting a long time for this.

[dividers by @thecutestgrotto]

Please consider reblogging if you like my work!

[angelofverdum]

She hasn't beaten the allegations, btw

Getting gay allegations since the 90s

[shipsdoishipidk]

Dick, hissing: I am sick and tired of him. He always shows up out of nowhere and what does he do? Nothing! He’s always just follows me around going ‘Robin, your punch on the right is weak, you aim for the heart.’ ‘Nightwing, your snark is like a rabbit with fangs.’ ‘Little bird, did you just get out of bed because I could take you right now.’ And ‘you’re dripping sweat- Wally: ‘-am I working you too hard?’ Dick: Yes! You understand! Roy: Uh no. No we don’t. It’s all in the “how to flirt with your oblivious fellow hero counterpart” book. Dick: W-what? There’s-what? Raven: yes, it’s quite…collective. Dick: WHO WOULD EVEN WRITE SOMETHING LIKE THAT?! Gar: Dude it’s written by a bunch of thugs and villains. It’s like famous. Even the Joker added stuff to it. Dick: oh my god why would Slade even read that?! Wally: Dick. My buddy. My bro. My ship in friendship. C’mon. Dick: what-it’s not like he’s trying to flirt. Garth: *turning to the group* and this is why there’s "oblivious" in the title. Dick: *flustered* hey! Fine, even if he is, why would he read a "how to romance" book? Roy: Now we’re asking the right questions. Dick, he doesn’t read it. He’s the source of inspiration. Dick: Wha- Roy: A bunch of thugs got tired of seeing him flirting with you and started complaining about it at the villains' bar. One of them got the really dumb or maybe really smart idea to write a self-help book about all the pick up lines Slade’s used on you over the years. Dick: No. Roy: Yup. Dick: No. no. There’s no way. I would’ve noticed. If someone was flirting with me all these years, I would’ve noticed! Wally: Really? Thanks for noticing then. Roy: And not saying anything. Dick: What? Garth: *shoving Roy and Wally* Nothing! Get your butt tootalooting out of here. You have business to catch up on. Dick: *getting shoved out the door and having it slammed shut behind him* I- Raven: That worked out great. Gar: Yeah! Wait no! I thought we didn’t want them together? Garth: Yeah that was the plan. I guess it just slipped out. We have a bigger problem now. Wally: what? Garth: Who’s gonna tell Batman that Dick knows about Slade’s interests now? Roy: Wally: Gar: Raven: Roy, Wally, Garth, and Gar: ICALLNOTIT Roy, Wally, Garth, and Gar:... Wally: Raven? Raven: *Glaring* Wally: Yup, yeah, okay, that’s fine too. Roy: *packing his bow* whatever, I’ve got a suitor to hunt down. Wally: Me too. Gar: I’m gonna hang out with Raven, bye! Gar and Raven: *disappearing* Garth: hey, anyone? Garth: *dragging out the communicator* Why is it always me? Garth: …actually you know what? Fuck Batman. Enjoy your new fresh hell, you possessive fuck. We’re all gonna be in it.

[zepskies]

A Wish to Build a Dream On

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Summary: Dean has been harboring the archangel Michael in his mind for weeks now, putting a strain on your relationship as you struggle to help him. When Dean makes a wish that accidentally brings his father back from the dead, you get to meet the (in)famous John Winchester. But as always with magic, your boyfriend’s wish has unintended consequences.

AN: Welcome back to the Espresso-verse! This is set in 14.13: “Lebanon,” of course, but chronologically in the storyverse, it sits between Show Me and In Bad Weather.

Song Inspo: The story title was inspired by “A Kiss to Build a Dream On” by Louis Armstrong, but the real song inspiration for this is “Come Back Down” by Lifehouse.

Word Count: 7k~

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Spiciness/smuttish, angst, hurt/comfort, hint of body insecurity, and feels. 

Start from the beginning of the series: ⤵️

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Sometimes, even the mundane in a two-year relationship can become new. And not in a good way. 

You and Dean are getting ready for bed, taking turns brushing your teeth. When you’re done, he comes in behind you at the sink and starts up his routine.

As you go to look for the moisturizer you pretend he doesn’t borrow from your nightstand, you watch him from the corner of your eye. Even dressed down in his loose shirt and pajama pants, he seems tired, and tense.  

Maybe because he’s been harboring the archangel Michael in his mind for an entire month. 

You know Dean hasn’t been sleeping well, if at all. Now, he seems to be anticipating another fitful night. It doesn’t sit well with you to see the tension in his shoulders, the lines around his eyes that aren’t from laughing.

You wait until he slips into his side of the bed. Then you turn over and sidle up against him. You prop your elbow against his pillow, so you can look down on him with a smile. His brows twitch upwards.

“Well, hey,” he says. His arm settles around your waist under the covers. You stroke his cheek.

“Hey,” you reply. Though you don’t ask him if he’s all right. You already know the answer. Instead, you dip down for a kiss.

At first it’s just a sweet meeting of lips. You part from him softly, letting your thumb drag back and forth across his prickly cheek. He breathes in deeply and allows himself to savor the touch.

You dive back in again for a deeper taste, finding minty freshness with your tongue. He hums in response. His hold tightens on your waist, while your fingers drift down his neck, down his chest over his shirt. And then, they slip under the worn-out waistband of his sweatpants.

He groans deep in his throat when you stroke up and down the full length of him with a practiced hand. His knee bends on reflex, and he sucks in a breath as pleasure stirs low inside him.

But he stops you, grabbing your wrist gently, but firm.

You break the kiss in confusion. Dean’s eyes are still closed, brows furrowed while he takes deep breaths, as if he’s trying to pull himself back together. Or maybe, maintain a level of self-control.

His green eyes open and find yours in apology.

“Sorry,” he says, pulling your hand out of his pants. “Just uh…not really in the mood.”

You lift up the covers and glance down at the half-pitched tent in his pants with a raised brow.

“You sure about that?” you ask.

He stays quiet, which starts to make you suspicious. You let the covers drop and rest a hand on his chest, where his heart beats at a ticked-up pace.

“It’s been over a month, baby,” you point out. “I know there’s…a lot going on, but this isn’t like you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m tired,” he claims.

You can understand that, to an extent, but intuition tells you that there’s something deeper here. Beyond the lack of intimacy, you’ve been starting to realize just how distant your boyfriend has been with you, even after getting him back from Michael.

Dean doesn’t…touch you anymore. And not just in this bed. As a matter of fact, him holding you right now is some of the closest affection he’s given you in days.

Despite that thought, he actually surprises you by covering your hand on his chest and squeezing your fingers. Likely he’s seen the disappointment and concern across your face.

“Come on. You think I only want you around for sex?” he jokes. It gets you to smile, however slightly.

“Call it a perk of this little arrangement,” you say in a dry tone. 

“Ooh, an arrangement. Sounds kinky,” he quips, with a curve of his lips. 

You smirk and take back your hand from under his. Carding your fingers through his hair, you dip down and start to kiss his neck. 

“I miss you,” you whisper against his warm skin. “But I also want to help you take your mind off it all… Just let me distract you for a while.” 

His eyes briefly close as he lets out a shaky breath, but he stops you for real this time. He holds your cheek and guides you away. His rejection hurts, making your chest sting, but his eyes implore you to let him explain.

“That’s just it,” he says. “I can’t. I can’t risk it.”

Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t lose control,” Dean says. His tone is laced with grit and strain. “Michael’s in there, rattling around. He’s either pacing all damn day, or pounding on the walls.”

Dean presses a hand between his eyes, as if that’ll stop the headache that’s already forming. It’s bad enough that the archangel was controlling him for so long, rooting deep in his head and opening every door and shady corner. Thoughts, memories, private moments.

Now, Dean doesn’t know how much Michael sees of the outside world. It’s another reason he’d rather not heed every desire he has to roll you underneath his body and fuck you deep into the mattress. It’s why he hasn’t let himself touch you as often as he wants, as he craves.

Because the truth is, he’s scared. Scared of what might happen if he gets too distracted.

“Sometimes I think I’m gonna lose my fucking mind,” he admits to you, his throat tightening.

He glances back up at you, and finds you weeping. Your lower lip trembles. Guilt hits Dean harder between the ribs when he realizes what he’s been putting you through. What he’s still putting you through. He cups your cheek and wipes away a stray tear.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says.

You shake your head. “It’s not just that we can’t…it’s that I can’t help you,” you reply, with a tremble in your voice. “I can’t do anything.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say to you, but he knows what he can do. He wraps his arms more securely around you and pulls you against him. You rest your forehead in the crook of his neck and try to calm yourself by taking long, even breaths.

“I wish I could take this from you,” you confess.

He sighs. “I don’t.”

The next morning, Sam and Dean catch a lead on a fellow hunter who was killed by a supernatural artifacts dealer. They mean to track down the dealer.

Instead of going with them, you stay at the bunker and continue to research a way to extract and capture an archangel from a human host. 

Dean doesn’t question your decision; he’s grateful, but still feeling guilty about last night. And part of him doesn’t even know how to move forward with you right now. 

It’s just as well, because you’re not too sure of how to act around Dean either. Your heart breaks every time you look at him, and it was hard to even meet his eyes at breakfast this morning.

Mary is on a hunt nearby as well, but you don’t have the heart to join her when she calls you around noon. After you hang up with her, you realize that you’re feeling sorry for yourself, when the one who’s really suffering is Dean.

For a moment, you take a break from the old book in front of you. Your back is twinging from being hunched over in your research for hours on end in the library. You rub your eyes and let out a sigh, before you lift your gaze heavenward. You doubt your grandmother can hear you up there while she relives her greatest hits, but at this point, you’ll try anything.

Please, you think in Spanish, and even pray. Give me strength. Give him strength.

Sam and Dean return to the bunker after “taking care” of the scumbag dealer. They bring back a number of artifacts, which you’ll have to help them sort through. They pile it all onto the War Room table. 

But they show you one item in particular: the Baozhu, one of eight ancient Chinese treasures. In other words, it’s a pearl that grants your heart’s desire.

Now, in general, you tend to be wary about hoodoo, but Sam has already convinced Dean that it could work. He could wish Michael gone.

They’re both so earnest that you’re willing to go along with it…and let Dean give it a try.

“Are you sure you don’t want to call Mom?” Sam asks him. “Or wait for Cas?”

“No,” Dean replies. “If this mojo works, great. If it doesn’t, then why get their hopes up?”

You agree with that point. In fact, you almost wish you could be Mary or Castiel right now.

Dean notes the look on your face, and he knows you well enough to read what you might be thinking. He turns his attention back to the pearl with determination.

He takes the pouch from Sam’s hand and doesn’t know what to do with it at first, but after little coaching from Sam, Dean takes the pearl in his hand, closes his eyes, and concentrates on his “heart’s desire.”

Michael outta my friggin’ head, he thinks.

The lights in the bunker start to flicker. You and Sam look up in wariness as the magic from the wish knocks out the electricity for a moment, casting the room into darkness mixed with a red glow from the emergency lights.

Sam turns when he spots a shrouded figure out of the corner of his eye—almost as tall as him, a large threatening frame. Sam swings a punch, but the intruder bats at his stomach, then his face with what looks like a crowbar. He goes down hard.

Just as you turn your head, Dean steps in next and gets an elbow to the chin for his trouble, then a swift kick in the stomach that sends him across the room with Sam. The intruder wracks his crowbar, which as it turns out, is actually a shotgun.

“Don’t you move,” he says.

He must not have seen you in the dark. It gives you the opportunity to come up behind him with one of the emergency handguns Dean had taped under the table for exactly this purpose. You tuck the safety back with a click.

“Drop it,” you demand.

The man pauses. He knows you’re there, but he doesn’t yet lower his weapon.

And the lights come back on.

Sam and Dean’s eyes widen when they realize who they’re faced with.  

“Dad?” Dean says incredulously.

John Winchester is just as confused to be in the bunker as his sons are to see him alive, and in the bunker. For John, he thinks it’s 2003. Sam should be at school in Palo Alto, while John’s been hunting with Dean.

John is understandably shocked when Sam tells him that sixteen years have passed.

“I think we summoned you,” Sam says, after he and Dean pick themselves up from the ground.

John takes a beat to try and process, but he has too many questions.

“You boys better tell me what’s going on right now,” he says. Though he turns and notices you after you slip your gun back into the waistband of your jeans and draw closer to Dean, laying a hand on his arm. A subtle look passes between you two.

You good? yours says.

I think so, Dean’s replies. The exchange doesn’t go unnoticed.

“And you are?” John asks. His gaze is focused on you, and the directness of his tone somewhat takes you by surprise. You never thought you would meet John Winchester.

But after you tell him your name, Dean rests a hand at the small of your back.

“She’s my girlfriend,” he says.

Intrigue sparks in John’s eyes, and he nods in response. His mind is probably buzzing with too much information to levy any kind of politeness your way, but it still leaves a tense, awkward atmosphere in its wake.

Sam tries to bridge it by suggesting you all sit at the long table in the War Room to go over what John’s missed. He agrees, though he requests a strong drink first.

Explaining what’s really happening to the older, yet still incredibly spry hunter takes a while. You all do it with a bottle of Jack Daniels split four ways.

“So, you saved the world?” John asks. His whiskey glass is in his hands, and he raises a finger in a “So you mean to tell me” gesture.

“More than once,” Dean admits.

“Then it’s all true. God, the Devil, you boys smack in the middle,” John says. You can see him working through all this, but also with fatherly pride coming through. It would make you smile, if this situation wasn’t so goddamn weird.

“Now you all live in a secret bunker with an angel and Lucifer’s kid,” he continues, and this time, he includes you in his gaze. All you can do is nod with a feeble smile.

Sam and Dean also confirm his summary.

“And you’ve done this whole…time travel thing before?” he asks.

“A few times,” Dean nods. “Actually, our grandfather, your dad…he’s the one that helped us find this place. I think he’d be real happy to know you’re finally here.”

Dean has told you about Henry Winchester, and how John had thought the man abandoned him when he was a child. But now, he seems to understand.

“Right, Man a’ Letters,” he nods.

“Yeah, we’re uh, we’re legacies,” Sam says, giving his father a smile. “Because of you.”

John has to smile back.

The three of them continue to talk for a while, and you mostly keep to yourself. Truth be told, you’re feeling a bit out of place in this moment.

The John you’ve heard stories about is a gruff ex-marine with a “give ‘em hell” attitude. This man has a solid presence, and a gruff voice not unlike Dean’s, but all you see in him is both pride and wonder at everything his sons are telling him about this world he’s been thrust into.

After a little while more, Sam realizes he needs to call someone immediately: his mother.

John’s face falls into shock.

“Mary?” he says. His disbelieving eyes become tinged with hope. “She’s…she’s alive?”

Dean shares a quick look with Sam, who heads out of the room quick to find his phone.

“Yeah, Dad. It’s a long story, but uh…she’s back too,” Dean says, smiling. “Wait ‘til she sees you.”

John’s brows furrow. He looks down at his hands on the table, fighting emotion. You can’t help but feel for him. You notice the empty bottle of whiskey, and without meaning to, you fall into “caretaker mode.”

“Uh, John, you want some water? Or maybe a beer?” you ask, as you start to get up from your seat. Dean looks up at you with a measure of bemusement.

“Beer would be good, thanks,” John says, giving you a small, but sincere smile. Somehow that unbalances you even more, though you smile back.

“Okay, and while I’m at it I think I’d better start dinner,” you say. Mary doesn’t cook, really. Sam is a lost cause too. (The man can barely boil an egg.) So it’s often up to you and Dean to handle the food in this house…bunker…whatever.

Dean disrupts your thoughts by grasping your hand, hoping it’ll steady you.

“You don’t have to, baby,” he says. You perk up with a more genuine smile.

“Oh, I want to! Besides, you guys should keep talking. Catch up,” you say, gesturing between father and son. You squeeze Dean’s hand, then make your quick escape.  

Dean smirks and watches you go. John follows his son’s gaze, then looks back at him in amusement. 

“She a good cook?” he asks. 

Dean raises his brows. “Oh, just you wait. She makes this beef stew thing, ropa vieja? Ridiculous. And a pork roast like you wouldn’t friggin’ believe.”

John chuckles. “Latina, huh?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Dean grins.  

“Nice,” his father nods with another short laugh. But it evens out into a certain smile. “How long’ve you two been together?”

Dean mentally counts it back. You often calculate it from the first time he officially asked you out for a nice dinner here in town. He likes to count it from that very first night he finally got a taste of your sweet café con leche…in more ways than one.

“Two years and some change. Almost three,” he says. John gives a low whistle.

“Look at you,” he remarks. And he seems pleased, with a gleam in his eyes that warms Dean deep inside. “Good for you, son. Glad to see you’ve got someone to hold you down.”

Dean sobers at that. He glances down at his empty glass of whiskey.

“Yeah,” he says. “You don’t know how much.”

It’s a good thing you went grocery shopping yesterday, or else you’d be shit out of luck trying to put something together for dinner. There happened to be a sale going on in the seafood section, so you find that you have everything you need to make a Spanish paella.

You get to chopping the onions, bell peppers, garlic, tomato, and parsley first before anything else. While that starts sautéing in the pan, you break out the chicken, shrimp, and mussels from their individually wrapped packages.

You continue according to the recipe you have in your mind’s eye—the one your grandma instilled in you. She’d learned it from her half-Spanish mother when she was a kid.

Cooking is one of those things that allows you to reset your mind. It’s like how Dean is when he sits down to tune up his car, or Sam when he reads a new book. You can just zero in and focus on the task at hand, and it allows you to put the rest of the chaos out of your head for a while. Plus, you just like feeding people.

Sometimes though, the task of whipping up a hot meal just gives you time to think. And right about now, you’re still reeling.

On one hand, you’re so happy for Sam and Dean. And of course for Mary, who’s about to get her entire world flipped upside down. You have so many questions for John Winchester…but not all of them would be pleasant.

You have to try to push that part down, for Dean’s sake. He’s just gotten his father back. He doesn’t need you adding even more onto his load.

There’s a knock on the open door of the kitchen that pulls you out of your thoughts. You raise your head and look over your shoulder. John is there with an empty beer bottle, which he raises in greeting.

You give him a small smile. “Hope you’re getting hungry.”

“With that smell, who wouldn’t?” he says, drawing near enough to lean against the counter next to you. He answers your unspoken question. “Dean’s lookin’ for some pictures to show me.”

You nod at that. “Yeah, he has a few good ones, and some are new. I’m sure you’ll like to see them.”

John nods and regards you with curiosity. He wants to know more about the woman in his son’s life, but he’s not too sure where to start.

“So you’re a hunter too?” he asks.

“Yep. Not for as long as Dean, but long enough,” you reply. It’s tinged with the knowledge that no hunter should’ve been as young as Dean when they started, but you keep that thought deep inside.

“How’d you two meet?” John asks.

Your lips twitch at a smile. You tell him the story of how you’d met Dean at a dirty bar in Las Cruces, New Mexico. Dean hadn’t realized you were a hunter at first when he watched you hustle some guy at pool.

He set you in his sights, flirted with you, and you probably would’ve let him take it further if you hadn’t stunned him with the knowledge that you, Sam, and Dean happened to be in town working the same case. From that day on, the three of you had become allies and friends.

You and Dean just hadn’t become you and Dean for a long time after that. Too long, if you were honest. But, it’s all worked out so far. This is the longest relationship both of you have been in, pretty much ever.

There’s a lull of silence that falls between you and John after you finish the story. It’s not altogether comfortable, and he realizes that when he watches you putter about the kitchen while you cook. You’re trying to busy yourself.

“This must be one hell of a strange day for you,” he says.

Your head perks up, and you have to smile wryly. “Our lives are built on strange.”

John’s chuckle concedes your point. But you look over at him thoughtfully and set down your wooden spoon.

“Could I, um…could I ask you something?” you ask.

He nods at you. “Sure.”

Maybe you shouldn’t, but you really can’t help yourself.

“We don’t know each other well,” you begin. “But, knowing what you know now, about Sam and Dean and everything they’ve gone through… If you could go back, would you change anything?”

John tilts his head at you, like he’s trying to read through the lines in your words. It reminds you of Sam.

“You mean, would I do things differently?” he asks. “From what point?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. From the point in time you can remember, with Sam in college. Or maybe further back…from when they were kids.”

You try your best not to make it sound like a leading question, but you don’t think you’ve disguised it well enough. John stares back at you, as if the lines are now connecting in his mind.

He sees you're well-meaning. Despite your best efforts though, he knows you're accusing him of something. And he thinks you have some audacity.

He's somehow both taken aback, and amused by that fact. Trust Dean to be with a woman who goes for the jugular.

“Because you’ve been straight shootin’ with me, I guess I’ll shoot straight with you,” John replies. He sighs and wipes a hand over his bearded mouth, like you’ve seen Dean do at times when he’s tired, or anxious.

“A good part of me believes I did the best I could,” he says.

Your gaze falls; you don’t want him to see your real thoughts in your eyes.

“But,” he says, “If you're asking if I have regrets? ...Then you'd be right.”

You consider him then, for a moment. You find that you believe him. You begin to soften.

“Well, that’s something we have in common,” you reply. “But Sam and Dean are the best men I’ve ever known… So thank you.”

And you mean that. You are grateful for both of them. They became your family when you thought you had no one left.

John surprises you by shaking his head, smiling. “That’s what I wanted to say to you.”

You falter at that.

Me? you think. Why would he want to thank me?

Before you can truly digest his words, Dean comes into the kitchen, both to check on you and bring his dad the pictures he keeps in his nightstand. While he looks through them, John surreptitiously watches you and his son. 

Dean sidles up behind you and rests a hand along your hip. He peeks over your shoulder at what you’re cooking. You open the lid on the big pan of rice, chicken, and seafood, and he hums in delight at the smell of saffron that hits him.

“What’s that, paella?” he asks.

You give him an impressed look. “Very good. Here, it’s not quite ready yet, but try a bit.”

You put a shrimp and a bit of rice on the wooden spoon and raise it to his lips. Dean smiles and takes the proffered bite. He then moans in appreciation.

“Oh, that’s good,” he praises with his mouth full. “A bit spicy.”

“You like that though,” you tease.

Dean eyes you, and he chuckles. “Yeah, I do actually.”

John smiles to himself, both at the pictures of his boys throughout the years he missed, and at the glimpse he gets to see now.

You turn to him with another spoonful held out. “Want to try some, John?”

He obliges you by coming over and taking the spoon from your hand. He takes the bite, and his brows shoot up.

“Oh man, that’s got some kick to it,” he says.

“Too much?” you ask.

“Nah, it’s real good.”

Dean grins, but it soon dims as he realizes something.

“Ooh, what about dessert?” he says, rubbing his hands together. “Do we have anything?”

“Nope,” you reply. “Either we pick something up, or…I could make a flan.”

Dean’s grin kicks back in, full force. If there's one thing he's come to love in this world besides pie, it's your flan.

“But! For that I’ll need more ingredients,” you say, holding down a laugh at the look on your man’s face.

“Say no more,” he replies. “I’ll go on a grocery run. Just tell me what you need.”

You’re about to respond when a door creaks open down the hall. Mary hastens into the kitchen with Sam on her heels. When she sees her husband, her face falls into shock.

“John,” she breathes.

John's amusement gradually melts away, into watery-eyed emotion.

“My girl,” he says.

The two meet each other in the middle of the room. He holds her face, and she grips the front of his shirt with desperation. Their kiss is beautiful and tender…and then it’s more.

You and Dean share a wide-eyed look with Sam. The three of you quickly tip out of the room to the sounds of soft moans in your wake.  

“Wow. I mean, this is crazy right?” Dean says. He gesticulates wildly with his hands as the three of you make your way down the hall. “The way they just…connected, like magnets.”

You turn to him with a knowing smile.

“Your parents are about to have a lot of reunion sex,” you tease. 

Both Sam and Dean grimace. Dean has a full body shiver and gives you a look.

“Thank you for that,” he says wryly. 

You laugh and try to soothe him with a hand down his arm, but he playfully shakes his head at you. You have mercy on the brothers and manage to stifle your laughter.

“Okay, so, dessert,” you say.

“Well, since you’re so graciously being our chef for tonight, you just relax,” Dean says. “Sam and I’ll go make a run. You just tell me what you need.”

You pause in the hallway and give a hum of suspicion. You’re not sure you trust him to get the right stuff. The last time you asked him to get very specific ingredients from the store, he did not, in fact, bring you what you needed. (Somehow, he thought regular garlic powder was the same as Adobo seasoning.)

He clocks that look of yours and rolls his eyes. “Come on, really? What am I, five years old? Just give me a list.”

You relent with a sigh. “Okay, I’ll text it to you. But if you need me to send you pictures of anything, just let me know.”

Dean’s lips kick up into a smirk. He leans in for a parting kiss on your cheek, but it’s just an excuse to whisper in your ear.

“Well, I’ll never say no to some pics,” he says. “Nudes, preferably.” 

He then laughs at your rosy blush and raised brows. Now you know he’s in a better mood.

“Just hurry up,” you reply, shaking your head. He keeps chuckling as he passes by you. A smile curves your lips, and you give into the urge to smack his ass on his way up the stairs.

Sam just sighs in amused resignation. He raises a hand to you in goodbye and follows his brother up to the garage. 

Once they’re in the car, Sam finally unloads what he’s been holding onto all afternoon.

“Dean, how did this happen?”

“I mean, I don’t know. You said that the pearl gives you what your heart desires, right?” Dean says. “So, my heart desired… Look, I’ve wanted this, man. I’ve wanted this since I was four years old. Maybe having Mom back just brought it all back up.”

He’s not exactly sure how deep that “desire” was buried, but the pearl knew. Dean couldn’t believe how happy he was when he saw his dad again, got to tell him everything that he’d missed, getting to have him meet you. And seeing his dad with his mom again? Well, that was a child’s dream come true.

But Debbie Downer (AKA: his brother) looks concerned in the passenger seat.

“Okay, I know, and I love this too,” Sam says. “But messing with time—”

“No, no, no. Sam,” Dean says, raising a hand in protest as he drives.

“You know how this ends, Dean. Things change,” Sam tries to reason. Dean just shakes his head.

“Yeah, we got our family back together! I’ll take that change.”

“That’s not what I mean—”

“Stop. Just stop,” Dean says, in a tone that bodes no argument. “Look, can we just have one family dinner? Just one? Us—all of us together? That’s all I want. Can you just give me that?”

Sam’s lips purse. He knows it’s useless to argue with Dean when he gets like this, but Sam just can’t help the uneasy churning in his gut. It warns him that the other shoe has yet to drop on this spell.

You’re checking on the food when Sam and Dean return from their trip. Except the way they come storming into the kitchen has you turning to them in alarm.

Dean grasps your arms and searches your face. His face is marred by fresh cuts and a bruise or two.

“You feeling all right?” he asks. “Do you think Sam is a turtleneck-wearing douchebag?”

“Dean, what?” you utter. You touch his bruised cheek lightly, wincing in sympathy when he does out of pain. “What happened?”

True to Sam’s gut, the wish changed more than bringing John Winchester back from 2003. They explain what they went through after getting the groceries you requested—namely getting attacked by Castiel and Zachariah at the local liquor store.

The latter of the two angels was supposed to be dead, while the other had no recollection of being friends with the Winchesters. Sam was supposed to be a hot-shot Steve Jobs wannabe lawyer, while Dean had his mugshot plastered all over town.

“I think it’s…a temporal paradox,” Sam says.

Now, you’re very alarmed.

“Are you kidding me?! What the hell are we gonna do?” you exclaim.

“About what?” John asks from the doorway. He’s no longer wearing his jacket, you notice, and his shirt is looking a bit rumpled and hastily buttoned at the top, but his gaze is serious, matching his sons.

After sharing another telling look, Dean takes the responsibility of explaining the situation to his father, while Sam goes to find his mother.

Dean and John go into the library to talk. He explains that pulling John out of his time is now making the current timeline self-correct. Meaning, everything and everyone is gradually adjusting to the change.

“Basically, uh, if you don’t go back,” Dean says. He hesitates on the words, but he forces himself to continue. “Sam never gets back into the life. And Mom, she…”

“What?” John asks.

“Well, without everything that we did, with God, the Darkness, Mom never comes back,” Dean explains, even though it’s killing him inside. “Sam thinks that she’ll just fade away.”

It hurts him still to see the understanding don on his dad’s face, along with a smile of resignation.

“Okay,” John agrees. “I mean, me versus your mom? That’s not even a choice.”

Dean nods at that, however belatedly.

“Dean…I never meant for this,” John says.

“Dad, we pulled you here—”

“No, son. My fight,” he says. He still thinks about his conversation with you earlier today. He thinks about how protective you seemed just by that question you asked—not just protective of Dean, but of Sam too.

“It was supposed to end with me, with Yellow Eyes,” John explains. “But now, you’re a grown man, and I am incredibly proud of you.”

Dean takes that in; he feels a rush of warmth deep in his heart, even though he doesn’t know what to say.

“You and your girl…you two planning on settling down someday? Having a family?” John asks.

Dean quirks a smile. You two haven’t talk about…that. Any of that. In between all the shit you all keep landing in, he’s somehow never had those conversations with you. Maybe he should.

But not now. Not until Michael’s gone and dealt with.

“I don’t know if we’re the settling type, but either way…I have a family,” Dean replies. He can say that honestly, with a soft smile that reaches his eyes.

John smiles back.

“All right,” he says. “Just think about it then.”

Dean once again finds you in the kitchen. You’ve gotten the plates, glasses, and silverware ready for dinner on the dining table.

“Hey, there’s only four plates on the table. We’re five,” Dean says.

You nod and close the oven back up. You’ve spent the past hour preparing the flan and just took it out of the oven. Hopefully it will have enough time to chill in the fridge.

You go to Dean and grasp the front of his gray flannel. In return, he holds you close by your arms.

“Listen, I thought it might be better if the four of you have dinner together. I’ll just eat here in the kitchen,” you say. Dean’s brows furrow, but you try to explain before he can start protesting. “You don’t have a lot of time left with your dad. This is the first time you’re getting to be together with your family like this. I just want to make sure you get the most out of it.”

Dean squeezes your arms and frowns down at you.

“You being there doesn’t take anything away from me being with them,” he says sternly. “And you’re part of my family. Part of our family. I’m not gonna have you eating in here by yourself like you’re a leper or something. Come on.”

He grabs your plate and the glass that you set aside on the counter, and he brings it to the table without letting you get a word in to stop him. You sigh, watching him go, but you also have to smile as the sting of tears burns in your eyes.

Dinner is awkward and dour at first. You all can’t help but think of what’s to come at the end of the night—ending the spell, and sending John back along with it.

But after John sets the tone, encouraging them to be grateful for this moment, and not dreading the inevitable end, everyone’s able to relax. The rest goes off without a hitch. 

While Sam and Dean are telling a childhood story, arguing about who’s version of the events were more accurate, you get up to grab the dessert from the fridge. 

You take out the pan of flan with both hands and go to bring it back to the table, but right in the doorway, you stumble to a stop as a wave of something washes over you. It prickles across your skin and feels a lot like magic.

The pan drops from between your hands and crashes to the floor. It startles everyone in the room.  

Dean calls your name in alarm. He’s the closest to you, and he gets up to steady you with a hand on your shoulder. 

“You okay?” he asks, trying to get you to meet his gaze. 

But when you do, he sees blankness behind your widened eyes. 

“Who are you?” you ask. You look around in both fear and confusion. “Where the hell am I?”

Dean’s throat constricts. "What do you mean? You live here. I'm..."

He searches your face for any hint of a joke, but he finds none. Trepidation grows inside him, and he realizes then what this is.

Another temporal shift, getting closer to the new timeline. One in which you and Dean are clearly strangers.

Somehow, he didn’t anticipate this.

“You don’t recognize me, do you?” he says.

Your brows furrow as you take in the man in front of you. He’s certainly a sight to see, you think, but those broad shoulders, the cut of his jaw, those green eyes…they’re unfamiliar to you.

“Sorry, but…I feel like I’d remember you,” you say with a nervous chuckle. “Have we worked together or something?”

Dean’s lips press together. He gives you a meaningful look. “Sweetheart, we’ve done a lot more than that.”

Your brows raise, and you blush hotly at the thinly veiled innuendo in his deep voice. You take another quick scan of him, which he notes with a smile.

“Yeah, I uh, I doubt that,” you say, which drops his smile again. You curl a strand of hair behind your ear, like you’re embarrassed just by him scrutinizing your curvy form. Like you can’t believe he’s basically flirting with you.

That’s not the woman he knows. 

“Listen, I’m sorry, but I don’t know you. I have to figure out where the hell I am and how to get home,” you say. And you ease out of his hold and back away. 

Dean grabs your hand fast. “Uh, wait. Sorry, just…”

He raises a placating hand and glances back at Sam with a hidden thread of desperation in his eyes. His brother is shocked and disheartened, as are Mary and John.

“Okay. I'm Dean, this is my brother Sam, our parents, Mary and John,” Dean says, turning back to you. “I know this has gotta be weird as hell for you right now, but can you just…stay put for a bit, until I get this worked out?”

You give him an uneasy look. He’s holding your hand like he’s afraid to let you go. You don’t know this man at all, and yet he really seems to believe that he knows you. It doesn’t make any damn sense.

You shake your head. “Look, I have to go home.”

You try tugging your hand out of his, and Dean finally lets you go.

“Why, you got a boyfriend waiting or something?” he asks. He’s half teasing, and half serious. 

“No, um, family,” you admit. “My grandma’s probably waiting for me.” 

Dean’s expression slackens. In the right version of the timeline, you’re his girl. But your grandmother passed away a few years ago.

“Okay,” he wipes at his mouth with a hand. “Tell you what, it’s pretty late. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Deal?”

The truth is, he has no intention of letting you go any-damn-where, but he needs to buy them some time to break this spell. Then you’ll be back to normal.

Right now, you’re reluctant to trust him. Eventually though, you nod in agreement. Dean wastes no time in bringing you to the War Room, where he encourages you to take a seat.

“I’ll be back in a few,” he promises.

You nod a bit hesitantly, as you still treat him with dubious suspicion. It breaks his heart. He forces himself to turn away from you and return to the dining room.

Part of you can’t help but watch him leave. Those long legs and broad shoulders are a sight, you can admit, but this is all too much for you. You further take in your surroundings and also think this place is strange. No windows…what, are we in some WWII bunker?

And yet, Señor Green Eyes claimed that you live here. Your car, your keys, it all must still be here, you reason. 

So you wait until he’s all the way down the hall, and disappearing into another room. You get up out of your seat and start looking for your stuff—and a way out of here.

Meanwhile, Dean goes back into the dining room where Mary is already crying in John’s arms: for her eldest son, for her youngest, for her husband, and for herself. Dean’s eyes are red and stinging too. 

By now, Sam has gotten up from the table and has been waiting for his brother. He lays a supportive hand on Dean’s shoulder. When Dean meets his brother’s gaze, he sees the shine of heartbreak there too. 

“Let’s get this done,” John says.

Saying goodbye is the hardest thing. 

Somehow, though, they get through it. Dean reflects on how he never got to say it to his father the first time. He feels the worst for his mom, who gets her husband ripped away from her.

It’s not fair. In fact, it’s a cruel turn of the knife that he should’ve expected. Dean feels guilty just for making this goddamn wish.

John says goodbye to his wife first, then his sons. He pulls them both into a hug that Dean clings to. Again, he hears his father say that he’s proud of him and his brother. Dean hears him say that he loves them. 

“I love you too,” are the only words Dean can manage out, in a coarse whisper. 

But Sam is the one who has to make things right. He crushes the pearl. John slowly disappears in a haze of golden light. Tracks of tears are wet on all of their faces, but Dean is the first one who has to lock it all away. 

He remembers that you’re still waiting in the other room. 

Wiping at his eyes, he leaves Sam to comfort their mother and hurries out there, to the room where Dean left you…only to find your chair empty. 

A tendril of panic churns in his gut, but he has to remind himself that they’ve set things right. Even if you’ve run off, you can’t have gone far. 

He calls your name as he heads for the door to the garage. He picks up his keys and his phone to call you, but he stops at the foot of the stairs.

He sees you at the top of them, having dropped your duffel bag at your feet. Your name falls from his lips again.

You turn around and hold a hand to your head, with your brows furrowed in discomfort. Your gaze travels down to his.

“Dean?” you call out.

You head down the stairs, and Dean meets you there at the bottom. He pulls you into a tight, desperate hug. His hand comes up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. Even though you’re still a bit confused, you hold him back to reassure him, and to steady yourself. 

“What happened?” you ask.

“We reversed the spell,” he confesses, after he finds his voice. “Had to send him back.”

Your hold becomes more comforting as your hand slides up the back of his neck. 

“Oh, baby. I’m sorry,” you whisper. You card your fingers through his hair. His hold on you tightens even more. You feel his deep, shuddering breaths. He’s trying to contain it all, to push it down. You wish he would allow himself to let it out. 

He presses his lips into your neck instead. 

“You okay?” he asks. Your cheek brushes his when you nod. 

“I’m fine, but…” You pull back enough to see his face. “Did I…forget you? Everyone?”

Dean’s lips press together.

“For a minute there,” he says, “but we got it all worked out.”

You let out a shaky sigh, and you tug him back into a warm hug that you both need. 

Mary prefers to be alone that night. You understand it, but you still apologize and give her a heartfelt embrace in the hallway outside her room. 

It takes her a moment, but she returns it. You start to realize that Winchesters are not a touchy-feely bunch by design. You can’t help yours though; you’re affectionate by nature. You just hope you haven’t overstepped.

Mary gives you a small, teary smile when you eventually pull away. She squeezes your hand before she says goodnight to you and her sons. 

You give Sam a parting hug as well. He rubs your back in a brotherly gesture. 

“Sorry about the whole temporary amnesia thing,” you quip. 

Sam shakes his head with a smile. “Just glad to have you back.”

After he lets you go, Dean thumps his brother on the back. He then heads down the hall without a word.

You and Sam share a look, in which you give him an unspoken promise: I’ll take care of him.

You follow after Dean, who trekked a well-worn path to your shared bedroom. He’s already at the sink, splashing water on his face. After drying himself with a small towel, he sighs and rests his hands on the corners of the sink.

After closing the bedroom door, you go over and slip your arms around him from behind. 

You rest your head against his back, and you both take in some deep breaths. Dean clasps a hand over yours on his chest. 

“I’m okay,” he says. 

“No, you’re not,” you tell him. “And that’s okay.”

Dean stays quiet. For a beat, he closes his eyes. He’s grateful for you. He’s still not sure why you put up with all the hellish shit that surrounds his life.

He turns in your arms so he can cup your cheek, smoothing his thumb across your skin. 

“You know how much I love you right now?” he says, even though his deep voice cracks. Tears well up in your eyes, but you smile and you nod. 

“Yeah, I do,” you reply, resting a hand on his chest. “I love you back.” 

He frames your face with his hands and bows his head to kiss you. It’s fraught and devouring, and a bit greedy. You’re willing to give him whatever he needs right now, especially when his hands slip under your shirt and raise it over your head with practiced ease. In turn, you help him shrug out of the flannel and everything else.

You seat him down on the edge of the bed and stroke his face, his neck, his bare shoulders. His fingers press into your thick thighs as he encourages you to climb aboard, straddling his hips.  

Michael still paces back and forth in his mind, but for now, Dean’s able to tune it out and focus on this moment, with you. 

AN: This ended up being another long one. Lots of angst and feels, but I sincerely hope you enjoy it! I had a lot of fun with this chapter of the Espresso-verse. 💜

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is "A Little Danger." This one is lighter. Just a "quick and dirty" one-shot my brain couldn't let go of:

Summary: While relaxing together in the bunker, Dean takes your playful teasing to a new level. (And he’s too horny to care about the consequences.)

▶️ Next Story: A Little Danger

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[so-so-woso]

i wanna be the one | part 1

Edit: Changed title. Thanks to Dru for the suggestion. From the song "Things We Never Say" by the Bad Bad Hats. Great song, potentially relevant maybe who knows.

Summary: Reader is an English-American GK who joins the Arsenal squad and ends up in an interesting back and forth with Leah Williamson. This chapter is mainly set-up for the future. The vibes will probably be very different going forward lol

Warnings: Angst, swallowing self-doubt, and mentions of parental death in the first section.

Word Count: 3,284

London felt just like Seattle. You were expecting it to feel different, more European (whatever that meant), but when you stepped out of the airport and that familiar January rain hit your skin, it was a welcome feeling. It wasn’t quite Home – you hadn’t had one of those in a long time – but it was definitely welcoming, and nice enough that you didn’t bother with an umbrella. It would’ve been hard enough trying to carry one along with all your bags anyway, although by the look on your driver’s face he really wished you had at least tried. It was nice that the team had sent a car to meet you, especially since you didn’t really know anyone here that well, but you supposed they would do that for any new signing. The driver helped you get your bags into the car and then you were off to the club to dot some Is and cross some Ts to make everything truly official.

Wistful thoughts crept into the back of your mind as you were chauffeured through the streets of London, and you decided for the first time in a long time not to fight them. Not here, anyway – not now. Not after everything it took to get you here. Get you here again, technically. You were born in London after all, and raised in Sheffield where your mother had grown up. Your father was an American, from Dallas, who came to England for graduate school and stayed for the woman he fell in love with. He often teased her about “real (American) football” but she converted him to Sheffield United fan, though he would never admit it – at least not until you were born. Match days became a family event as soon as you could stand up on your own, even though you were still too young to really remember anything at that point, but by the time you could run you wanted nothing more than to play. You were always bigger than the other kids so they made you play with the boys, but you knew a lot of the women’s national team players had played on boys’ teams growing up, so you didn’t mind it. You were never upset about that, but you were upset when they made you move to the goalkeeper position when you were eight. It was the boring position and you never got to do anything, but you were the only kid on the team who didn’t seem scared of the ball when it came flying at you, so the job fell to you. Many years later, it would prove to be the right choice, but for a while you thought it felt like a punishment from the universe. Then you found out what that kind of punishment actually felt like.

You were only eleven when your parents died. It was a car accident; your mom was driving. She took the brunt of it and was gone by the time the ambulance arrived. Your dad was in the hospital for two days, but he never woke up. You had been in the back seat. Heavy bruising, a busted ribs, broken collarbone, and a big gash across the side of the head was it for you. You were in the hospital too, for a while. Your paternal grandmother came all the way from Austin to pick you up and take you to live with her. Your mom’s parents had been gone for a while now, and GiGi – what you had called your father’s mother – was all you had left. You had only met her a few times before, but you didn’t really have another option, so across the pond you went.

It would be a massive understatement to say that Texas was different from Sheffield. It was truly a whole different world, but kids are resilient enough. You were famous for a while, because of your accent, and then you were weird for a while, because of your accent, and then eventually you became just one of the kids. Your GiGi was supportive as well, more than you had expected her to be. You didn’t know much of the specifics as a kid, but you knew she and your father had had some sort of falling out and weren’t as close as they had been when he was younger. You always thought it had to do with him choosing to stay in England rather than come home to America. When you got older it seemed like maybe there was more to it than that, but GiGi wouldn’t talk about it. She did help you get into therapy, so that you could learn how to process what had happened and all the big changes that came with it. You didn’t like it at the time, but in hindsight it was probably the best thing she could’ve done. She even started trying to learn about football – soccer – too, because she knew you liked it, and she made sure to sign you up for the local league. You think maybe that time doesn’t heal wounds, but it sort of scabs them over enough that they only hurt when you pick at them, so eventually you learn to stop picking at them, and after that life became kind of normal.

You eventually played soccer in high school – goalkeeper, naturally – and were good enough to get recruited to the University of Texas. From there, the NWSL draft sent you to Seattle for the OL Reign. You spent a season as the third-string goalkeeper, then a season as the second-string, and then were presented with an opportunity you couldn’t dare turn down. It had been Kim Little’s idea, apparently. She had only played with you in Seattle for a month or so, and you never really hung out, but she knew you had grown up in England and that you had really wanted the chance to play football in Europe. She would tell you later that she was impressed with your resilience, something you had heard often growing up, and that you had a “dead brilliant reaction speed” which you guessed sounded good. So when Arsenal’s back-up goalkeeper transferred out and they were weighing their options, she suggested they give you a look. She had said it offhandedly, like it wasn’t a big deal, but you would wager she fought harder for you than she let on. You had only played a handful of games in two seasons, and while you were admittedly good, the offer from the English club still came as a massive surprise. They were up front and adamant about your status as a pure back-up to Zinsberger, and while you would’ve had a decent chance to win the starting spot in Seattle, you just couldn’t say no to European football, to England, to the Arsenal.

That’s how you ended up in the back of a dark car being driven through the streets of north London in the pouring rain. Your fingers fiddled absently at the chain around your neck and the two golden bands that hung from it while you considered everything that led you here, hoping that you made the right choice. Only time would tell, you thought, as the car squealed to a slow stop. You hesitated for a long moment before tucking the necklace under your shirt and moving to exit the vehicle. The driver met you at the car door, an umbrella extended overhead. You were taller than him, so you had to awkwardly bend your neck as he moved to close the door behind you.

“This shouldn’t take long,” he said, “Then we’ll get you home.” You thanked him and stuffed your fists in the pockets of your coat as you followed him up to the club, your stomach slowly rising higher and higher into your throat as the series of decisions you had recently made began to congeal rather quickly into a hard reality. It was some grotesque mix of nerves and excitement and fear that just fully slapped you in the face when you stepped inside the building. You hadn’t felt like this in Seattle, or on the plane, or in the car, but now that you were here, physically, it’s like everything else was physical too. It wasn’t some amorphous Choice floating in the metaphorical ether of your life; it was a foreboding Presence leering down at you, clawing at your shoulders from behind, and whispering ‘you don’t deserve this’ into your psyche. Nausea began to swell up, to the point you were just starting to feel dizzy. Out of instinct you reached forward and put your hand on the driver’s shoulder, who stopped walking to turn and see what you needed. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but was interrupted by a distinctly Scottish, “Oh ‘ey, Tex!” behind you.

You both turned to see Kim Little striding down the hallway, followed closely by Jonas and one of the other coaches. You swallowed hard, all the torturous feelings slowly fading away as you saw a familiar face. “Hey, Little Kim, “ you retorted. She scoffed and faked a jab towards your ribs before she reached up to hug you.

“Welcome to the party,” she said, stepping back to introduce the coaches, who shook your hands. They welcomed you as well and explained that the evening would be brief, they were sure you’d be tired from the flight, but just needed to finalize some things on the business side and then Kim would give a tour of the facilities. You thanked them, probably too many times, and went with them all to finish your paperwork and pick up your official training gear. Your kit wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow since they’d have to put your name on and weren’t sure what number you wanted (you picked 18 because it was available and made sense for a goalkeeper). Kim showed you around, asked about the flight, and made you feel as welcome as she thought she could. It was nice to talk to someone for a while. You weren’t exactly an extrovert, but you were Southern enough you enjoyed being around people, and being able to talk to Kim, even if it was more or less small talk, made you feel better, and by the time the tour was done all of the earlier feelings were forgotten. You started to think that maybe this whole thing was a good idea after all.

“So no rest for the weary – first training tomorrow, yeah? Text me your address and I’ll pick you up. Since you won’t have a car, Uber’s always an option, but until you get sorted, you can get rides with me,” Kim said.

“Sounds good. Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m picking you up extra early tomorrow – the girls’ll want to meet you before kickin’ balls at your head.”

“Well, I guess that’s only polite.”

You both laughed and hugged goodbye before heading your separate ways, you pulling out your phone to look up your new address to send it to Kim. This was a good decision, you thought, this was a good decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your apartment – or flat? – was nicer than you expected it to be. You had done a Zoom tour while you were still in Seattle and it looked fine, but you had tempered your expectations to be safe. Turns out, you didn’t need to. It was a two-bedroom and furnished with the basics, so there was plenty of space for you and plenty room to decorate as you saw fit. You had what was sometimes described as an eclectic taste by your friends, mainly because you liked to decorate with things that made you happy. That seems like an obvious thing to decorate with, but you were kind of – literally – a giant dork, which meant you had a lot of “nerd shit” as your friends would tease. You expected the Arsenal girls would do the same if they ever started coming over, but all of that would be a long time coming. Tonight, all you wanted to do was collapse into bed, which is exactly what you did.

Kim wasn’t lying when she said she’d pick you up early. At least she had the decency to bring you coffee, but she was completely taken aback when you admitted you didn’t really drink coffee and actually preferred tea. “Guess there is some English in you after all,” she had joked as she drove. She asked about your night and how you slept, and pointed out all the important-to-know shops and stops between your apartment and the training center. When you finally arrived, you asked her if she accepted tips for her tour knowledge – to which she responded with “only big bills”. You laughed as you retrieved your bag from the back of her car, and the two of you headed in.

The next few days were an absolute blur. You were introduced to everyone, and they all seemed pretty nice. McCabe kept talking about how tall you were, but from how everyone else acted that was normal. Manu was happy to have another goalkeeper in the squad despite the fact you would both technically be competing for the starting spot, even though you were explicitly hired as a back-up. At least it didn’t seem like there would be any weird hurt feelings or anything there, so you were glad for that. All your other time was spent trying to discern personality types and team dynamics, and also actually training. The coaches had told you they wouldn’t expect you to go full on for the first few days to give you time to acclimate to everything. You thanked them, of course, but that didn’t stop you from diving in head first.

By the time your official day three was over, you wished you had taken it a little easier. It felt like jet lag hit you late, on top of the normal physical tiredness of training. But that evening as the team as the team filtered out of the locker room, Katie McCabe slapped you on the back and said, “Drinks on you tonight, mate!” You turned to look at her, but before you could ask, Kim interrupted with a sharp “Katie–“

“Hold on, hold on! I don’t mean a big to-do, but we gotta welcome the newbie right, right?”

A couple of the other players voiced their agreement and Kim rolled her eyes. “Two drink maximum.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Three?”

“Two, McCabe.”

“Two and shots?”

“…”

“Two…and shots?”

“…one shot.”

“Fuck yes, best captain ever! You’re riding with us, Y/N!”

A mix of confusion and amusement spread across your face as you looked between the two of them, and Kim just shook her head and waved at you to go with Katie, so you let yourself be pulled away into whatever the night would bring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite telling you that you were paying for drinks, Katie was nice enough to only make you buy the shots, and despite Kim’s hesitance at you all going out mid-week, it was a surprisingly calm evening. You ended up sitting at a table with just a handful of your new teammates. Most of them were joking around with each other, teasing and taunting. You sat quietly, unsure of how inserting yourself into the dynamic would come off. You thought of a few quips throughout the conversations, but made sure to hold your tongue, choosing to sip on your beer instead.

“You always this quiet?”

You glanced over in the direction of the voice, inadvertently locking eyes with Leah Williamson. You knew who she was, obviously – won the Euros and all. What you hadn’t known was that she was even more attractive in person. You didn’t even know that was possible, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise.

“Not usually,” you responded, drawing in a breath. “Just can’t get a word in edgewise with this one goin’ off.”

You gestured towards Katie, who didn’t even register the comment. It did get a chuckle out of Steph and Foord, though, which made you relax a bit. Looking back at Leah, she was still looking at you, but didn’t seem to react otherwise. You paused for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek, before deciding to just go for it.

“So in the summer do you ever get a weird tan on your forehead from frowning so much?”

That did draw Katie’s attention; you could tell from the way she practically guffawed.

“Oy, she’s got you dead to fuckin’ rights!” she said, leaning over to elbow at Leah. The Aussies had laughed as well, as did Kim. Leah didn’t look impressed at the remark, but from the twitch of her lips you would swear she was biting back a smile. She had nice lips. Were you staring at her lips? Your eyes flashed back up to hers and she was still looking at you. She would’ve been able to tell where you were staring. That’s…embarrassing. You swallowed hard, and quickly looked away, taking a long swig of your drink. If anyone else at the table noticed the interaction, they didn’t react. Katie started in on you immediately, dragging you into whatever she had been talking about before, and from there you spent the rest of the evening integrating yourself into the team.

The bar was really only starting to fill up when Kim decided it was time for you all to get a move on. There was some light-hearted grumbling, but everyone was professional enough to know how to behave. You had popped into the toilet before leaving, and when you came out of the stall, Leah was washing her hands. You hesitated for a brief moment before moving up to the sink next to her to wash your own hands, the little bit of alcohol you consumed tonight just enough to embolden you.

“Man, Williamson, what kind of a world is this where you’ve got those legs and no rhythm,” you teased, quickly busying yourself with the most thorough hand-wash you’ve ever done so you didn’t have to look over at her and see how poorly she took the remark.

“You spend a lot of time thinking about my legs?”

You froze. It would seem she didn’t take it too poorly at all. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you turned off the sink and turned to look at her. She was staring at you again. Seemed like maybe she did that a lot.

“Yeah, maybe,” you finally said. She hmmed a bit and cocked her head to the side. The glint in her eye was the only thing that kept you from worrying you were being too forward, and you silently prayed it wasn’t a trick of the fluorescent lighting overhead.

“You think you’re being all charming, with your little jokes?”

“No, not really,” you shrugged. “I think I have the personality of a 14-year-old boy and it’s the only way I know how to flirt with you.”

Leah changed at that. Her posture shifted. Her shoulders dropped slightly. The glint in her eye was gone. You fucked up, you thought. You’ve been here for four days and you already fucked up.

You moved to apologize at the same time Leah moved to respond, but both of you were interrupted by the door to the bathroom slamming open and a group of girls rushing in. You turned around and pushed yourself up against the edge of the sink to get out of the way, but Leah dipped her head down and shoved out past them, taking the opportunity to escape without you being able to stop her.

Yep. You fucked up.

[ryin-silverfish]

I really like Azure Lion as a character. Yeah, you can stop following me now. /j

But no, seriously, I like how LMK has adapted this particular character, given him way more potential complexity than his novel counterpart——not that it's a high bar, the LCR trio of JTTW are just demon warlords living in a literal human slaughterhouse.

Which is why I deeply dislike the take that "Oh, Azure manipulated SWK into fighting the JE! He's just using him like a pawn!" Like, wow, way to completely butcher two characters' personality and agency in one go.

Such takes reduce SWK to some innocent kid, when he is at most an impulsive, daring teenager who haven't met a single real obstacle so far——he robbed the dragon kings blind, and they couldn't do a thing! He struck his name and all his monkeys' names off the Book of Life and Death! What couldn't he do?

And Azure's failing isn't him telling a toddler: "You know what? Driving your tricycle into oncoming traffic will be real fun, trust me kiddo." It's letting his friend go way over the speed limit and not telling him that he should maybe, y'know, slow down, bc he'd seen his epic driving skills, SWK's the bestest driver he ever met, surely nothing would happen!

(And also, no one in that car is sober, except Macaque.)

What I'm getting at here is, even without Azure, SWK is not gonna be content with sitting on his mountain, eating peaches forever. Hell, he sure doesn't in the novel, where his demon king brothers are little more than namedropped NPCs.

He is always gonna want more, chase after greater destinies, drown out that existential ennui and fear of death at the back of his mind with bigger and bigger power-ups and the laughters of his companions.

He told himself he would be content after getting this one thing he wanted. That he could stop at any time. But alas, like any ADHDer, he will not stop at this one exciting thing, and sooner or later, the boredom sets in, and he gets ideas and impulsively leaps into making them reality.

That is the Mind Monkey at his worst: being a whirlwind of chaos, while unknowingly enslaved to his own chaotic mind.

(In the book, this is Wu Cheng'en's reminder to the reader that, even though you shouldn't keep your heart constantly under lock and keys, Neo-Confucian style, the other extreme——letting it go completely wild, disregarding all external rules and consequences, can be equally disastrous.)

And when that car was driven through the Celestial Palace's front door, off a bridge, and straight into a ditch, it was him in the driver's seat, steering the wheels the whole time.

Everyone else in that car failed terribly as friends when they didn't voice any objections, or try to get him off the driver's seat, or realize that cheering and egging him on is an awful idea, however genuine their blind trust was.

Like, they are certainly not helping, and made the situation much, much worse. If you let your buddy drive while under influence and hand him more beers in the car, even if you are also drunk out of your mind and aren't actively trying to get him into a traffic accident, you are a shitty, irresponsible friend.

But the thing is? SWK is still responsible for the consequences of his decisions. He could have stopped, by his own volition, and no one was holding a gun to his head and forcing him to drive. He, too, wanted this.

That, to me, makes a much more interesting narrative than "Poor innocent baby SWK was puppeted into becoming the Great Sage in Heaven by shady blue cat, how awful!"

Oh, and since I'm feeling particularly salty today, I'll also ask some last questions: is SWK so weak-willed and devoid of self-agency to you that he couldn't even OWE his most famous title, the Great Sage in Heaven, 100%, without being manipulated into it?

Is SWK so immature and unintelligent to you that he is incapable of being a genuine idealist or rebel, that he cannot agree, out of the depth of his heart, that the Celestial Realm sucks balls and needs better management?

TL;DR: Havoc! Era Azure Lion isn't some cult leader brainwashing this kid into becoming his figurehead. He's the dumbass who's too busy staring at his teenage crush to care about the blaring police sirens.

Also, I had a bit of an epiphany after writing this: why am I so annoyed by people reading Azure's idealization of SWK as him intentionally manipulating and love-bombing him? Because it is a very western and modern reading.

For someone with traditional Confucian beliefs, it is perfectly normal——it is what you are supposed to feel, as a liege who has found your just and virtuous lord.

If Romance of the Three Kingdoms existed back then, he would probably describe himself as the Guan Yu to SWK's Liu Bei, however wonky the analogy was.

(Gosh, now I want a "Four Classics read each other" crossover.)

I'm not saying it is healthy or wise. But under this context, putting your lord on a pedestral was normalized, and even encouraged, as the virtue of a righteous gentleman. It was the sort of ideals romanticized culture-wide. NOT having such beliefs would probably make you look weird.

And since the Celestial Realm in the novel is a parody of Confucian hierarchy in a Daoist trenchcoat, it was really no surprise that an idealistic ex-celestial soldier would hold the same beliefs.

To torture the analogy further, the problem is that he was trying to be the Guan Yu to SWK's Liu Bei, when the Brotherhood had more in common with the Bandits of the Marsh, down to their giant downer ending.

[haru-natsuka]

Second Male Leads Are all Yanderes but I Won't Rest Until I Win My Love Back (Female Reader x OCs)

CHAPTER 1

Story will start from below synopsis

Every second male lead who appeared in this world had a hidden yandere side that can emerge at any moment and turn them into a twisted and obsessive villain.

As someone with a severe case of the "second male lead syndrome", you are determined to pursue your love for the second male lead, leaving the original male lead to become the second.

While you were busy chasing after the second male lead, the original male lead kept on bothering you and trying to get you to choose him instead.

"Don't you dare to come any closer!" You snap at the original male lead, your tone sharp and firm.

"Oh, and who's going to stop me? You?" The yandere stares at you, a menacing look in their eyes, as their body slowly moves closer.

"Too close! Step back!"

"Your words mean nothing to me. You can't control me. I will come as close as I please, you can't stop me."

As if a yandere was not enough, when you chose to ignore the original male lead, another second male lead suddenly entered your life, further complicating the situation.

The yandere and the upcoming second male lead both seem determined to have you for themselves, and they were both very possessive and pushy in their approaches to you.

You just wanted to be happy with your true love. Yandere or not, you would stick with your crush!

CHAPTER 1: THE CONFESSION

How would you determine for a man to be the first or second male lead? From behind a bush, you secretly watched a famous young knight professed his love to the most esteemed lady at the academy.

Confessions of love are a natural thing, it was everyone's right to develop such a feeling. However, how could you confess when you were hanging out with your best friend who had a crush on the same girl? We should talk about the timing there! 

There was a clear idiot word displayed on the knight's forehead in your eyes. His look also looks a bit stupid with a dump grin as he passionately confessing his love, forgetting his bestfriend altogether. Self-centeredness and idiocy were not a nice combination.

The girl appeared shyly glancing at him while softly playing with her eyelashes, deeply engrossed in the moment. Their surroundings were filled with a colorful display of flowers, bathed in the gentle rays of sunlight. What a truly perfect match.

'Hey, Liesel and Cyrus! My man over there, yeah, the one who is being ignored and neglected by you guys is having a moment of deep sadness and heartbreak right now. If you could please be the best friends that you're supposed to be and show some compassion and support, that would be greatly appreciated.'

You sighed with disappointment as both of them cannot hear your thoughts. It appeared that you were the one who must take action to save your man. Your crush hung his head low, using his glistening silver hair to shield his face from the painful scene unfolding before him. Hiding behind this wall of silvery locks, you could witness him hiding his tears. 

That was the difference between the male lead and the second male lead. One was a courageous figure, while the other merely existed in service of the female protagonist, loving and watching her from the sideline. As if she deserved such a title.

Despite the apparent contrast between the male lead and the second male lead, you found your true interest in the latter. You preferred him who was not as bold or confident, but who was always considerate of others' feelings. Even though all his paintings related to that famous girl, you still would like to declare that,

'My man finally is officially available!'

You made your way to your man, his head still bowed, tears still streaming down his face. You reached out a reassuring hand and quickly pulled him away from the scene. He appeared confused, and you flashed a triumphant glance in his direction, a bright smile upon your face.

"It's alright Adrian. My love is only for you"

>> CHAPTER 2

[chunghasweetie]

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 | P.JM 1

— pairing | femceo!oc x ceo!pjm

— summary | two rival ceos competing for years. famous for their rivalry and hatred for one another. always arguing. she hated him. he couldn’t stand her.

but why was he hard after every interaction?

— warnings | bad writing (i’m doing my best) slow burn (i’m annoying), secret relationships (oc’s bsf has the hots for jk), cruel humor (oc acts hard to get), fluff, cheating (jimin won’t give up on this girl), relationship abuse, abuse, light stalking (oc’s bsf is NOSY), alcohol, angst, lying, toxic relationships, toxic love concepts, aggression, irrational behavior, misogyny, derogatory comments (oc’s bf is a DICK),

— word count | 7.4k words

— song suggestions | confident — justin bieber

Park Jimin.

One of the greatest names in South Korea. One of the greatest names in the world actually. His face was on everything. Street signs, billboards, cars, even school lunch pails.

He was a prodigy. A genius. Although his parents were successful, he needed no help from them. He owned car dealerships, clothing brands, shoe stores, etc. Anything you could name, he owned 3 of it.

All at age 28.

No children, no spouse. All of his achievements done single-handedly.

How did he become so successful? We'll never know. He's a very a secretive man.

Although there is not much known about him, he is the definition of "the female gaze."

He is an incredibly handsome man. He trends daily for his sharp jawline, his beautifully carved lips, and his beautiful siren like eyes.

He could charm any man or woman with his looks alone. His voice was like a pied piper, seducing anyone who listened.

Park Jimin was a mystery.

༊—

Yoo Jangmi.

CEO of YooMi Beauty. The title coming from her surname and her first name.

YooMi Beauty was an incredibly  popular beauty brand ranging from makeup all the way to high toothbrushes.

YooMi Beauty had makeup, jewelry, women's clothes, men's clothes, heels, maternity wear, children's clothes, even kitchen wear.

Everyone was wearing YooMi. Custom designs from Ms. Jangmi herself. She was a self made entrepreneur who turned her small business into an empire.

She was an inspiration to many women. Being an independent woman and making a name for herself all on her own, many people looked up to her.

Unlike Park Jimin, Jangmi was very interactive with interviews and customers who supported her. She admired every bit of feedback she received and was very transparent.

It was no secret that Park Jimin was her rival, and with her coming out with a new car accessory line, she knew there would be talk.

He owned a lot of different branches similar to her, so the two were constantly competing against one another.

Tonight they were both invited to a gathering at a casino in Las Vegas hosted by one of his competitors, Yoo Kihyun.

Jangmi's brother.

Jimin wore a more business casual outfit. Since it was being hosted by Kihyun, he could care less how he really looked. No one there would peak his interest enough to really make him want to stand out.

"Nice to see you, Park. Champagne?" Kihyun offered.

"Don't mind if I do." He answered, watching the bartender pour them a drink. "Surprised you invited me. Especially after I made your sales plummet last spring." He smirked.

"Surprised you remembered." Kihyun chuckled lowly, taking a sip of his drink.

"How could I not? I'm making it a marker of my many successes." Jimin thanked the bartender, turning back to Kihyun.

"You enjoy your night, Park. Do contact me if you need anything else." Kihyun and Jimin waved their goodbyes as Kihyun went to greet other guests.

Jimin held his chin high as he drank alone. At gatherings like these, he didn't talk to many other business owners.

Not to his surprise, he was viewed as a very arrogant man. Which he was, in moderation.

He wasn't a total dick, at least he'd say so. But he definitely was a sassy man. He was a bittersweet person.

"Sitting alone like always." A low female voice was heard behind him. "Get me something with vodka and strawberries." She ordered to the bartender, taking a seat beside Jimin.

"Ms. Yoo." He turned to her. "How lovely is it to see you tonight. Alone." He mimicked her. "You order your drinks like a toddler."

Tonight she was wearing a lilac maxi dress, sparkles reflecting off the many games and neon lights around them. Her hair was long, jet black and parted to the side.

"At least I'm not drinking boring champagne. Don't you like to try new things?"

He shook his head. "Nope. You can never go wrong with champagne. You already know what to expect."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I can expect to be face deep hurling over the casino toilet."

"How ladylike." He fake smiled. "No wonder you're alone too."

"I actually chose to come alone, Mr. Park. You have no choice." She thanked the bartender as he slid her drink over to her. "Be a doll and pay for my drink?"

"As if." He scoffed. "Why should I do that?"

"Because I'll be the only woman you've bought a drink for since you've been able to purchase alcohol." She fake smiled back to him, taking a sip.

Friendly fire is what their relationship would be described as.

They could be civil with one another yes, but they had every reason to not be.

They were in constant competition. Who could sell more in a certain amount of time. Who could please their consumers more than the other.

She couldn't stand him. He couldn't stand her. Every little thing the other did, set them off.

What made it worse was they were neighbors.

Jangmi and her brother looked so alike. The evil smirk they shared ticked Jimin off.

One thing Jimin and Jangmi both agreed on, was their rivalry against Kihyun.

Kihyun and Jangmi were siblings, but he was also her competitor.

He was shady, a cheat. He used his looks to his advantage when it came to business. He lied to a lot of his consumers and he often made false promises to them.

Although there were a few instances where he was exposed for his doings, he easily paid off reporters for their silence.

He overshadowed brands that had actual good value. Honest brands. Such as YooMi and Park Enterprises.

No one with a high power dared to ever challenge Kihyun, knowing damn well he could crush them instantly. So many remain silent.

"Aren't you just peachy to be around." He fake swooned. "Go hang out with your brother. I miss the silence before you got here."

"You know damn well that's not going to happen. I'd rather sit and drink with you than talk to that idiot." She took another sip.

"Don't tell me you like me Ms. Yoo— Awe! I'm flattered." He put his hand on his heart. "You have a boyfriend, but I'd understand why you'd want me more."

"You fucking wish. You'd have to pay me to like someone like you." She shook her head. "Especially more than him."

"I don't know. That's how they all start out. Pretty soon you'll want to sleep with me when you become a married woman. That's how captivating I am." He winked at her.

Jangmi almost gagged. "Captivating or cocky? Either way I'm going to be sick."

"I think you mean lovesick." He corrected her.

"Alright enough of that." She downed her drink, placing the empty glass on the table. "Thanks for the drink. Goodnight Park." She waved before exiting the bar.

"Goodnight Ms. Yoo." He bid his goodbyes, watching her as she walked off. He looked down at his aching lower region once she was completely out of his sight. “Shit— Am I hard?”

༊—

"Finally." Jangmi threw herself on her couch.

"How was it? How was he?" Jangmi's best friend Yeri came out of the kitchen, a bowl of oatmeal in her hands.

Yeri and Jangmi had been best friends since the age of 8 years old. The two were almost like sisters. They did absolutely everything together and they knew everything about each other.

Yeri knew the code to Jangmi's penthouse, so she'd go in and out as she pleased if she didn't see her boyfriends car in the driveway. She only lived a few buildings down but according to her Jangmi's home felt "comforting"

"You ask me that every time. Just apply at his office or something." Jangmi replied, face down into the pillow.

"You know it's not that simple!" Yeri whined. "My dads money can only do so much for me." She pouted.

"Work for it." Jangmi suggested.

"I'd rather die. Hey! Do you think Kihyun might want to—"

"I'm going to stop you right there! My brother is off limits!" Jangmi shot up from her couch.

"Are you jet lagged or something?! I meant offer me a modeling gig! You didn't let me finish." Yeri rolled her eyes.

"Thank goodness. I almost died." Jangmi laid back on the couch. "I don't get why you even think he's cute. He's a cocky bastard."

"You don't see the vision Jangmi. Jimin may not have the best personality, but you've got to admit he's very handsome."

"You call him Jimin like you guys are close." Jangmi brought out her phone. "Look, I have to run to his office anyways for a pick up tomorrow. You can say you're one of my assistants and take my place."

"Are you serious?!" Yeri gasped.

She nodded.

Yeri set down the oatmeal and ran to her best friend. She gave her a huge hug, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She squeezed her.

"Don't make me regret this." Jangmi grumbled.

༊—

Lee Minhyuk, Jangmi's boyfriend of over a year.

The man was about 179cm and just a year younger than Jangmi herself. She didn't usually go for the younger ones but this one specifically caught her eye.

Their relationship was very public. Everyone knew about him.

He wouldn't shut up about her. Although he hasn't nearly as famous as she was, whenever he'd be interviewed or featured on television he'd always manage to bring her up.

Jangmi this. Jangmi that.

He was a romantic too. Surprise roses here and there, dates outside the office.

His world revolved around her, as she was what he gloated about the most.

The media adored him, waiting daily for the man to pop the question, "Will you marry me?"

He originally was one of her Kihyun's business partners, so they met through him.

She'd say it was love at first sight the way they instantly connected after some simple phrases back and fourth.

Their relationship seemed so perfect. Barely any fighting or bickering between the couple. They were on the same page about their futures and they could communicate well.

Their relationship was perfect. As in it used to be. Out of nowhere, Minhyuk turned away from her. Pretty early on too.

Fights between the two would break out often. He'd leave and disappear for days on end. Weeks even.

She couldn't pinpoint where exactly they went wrong. She was nothing but devoted to him and treated him with nothing but respect.

He was controlling. Didn't like her daily habits. Didn't like how she ate and how she dressed.

His boasting about her was usually about her physical appearance. It was appreciated but she just wished he'd bring up something that wasn't about her face or her body.

They could be just a bit more intimate, thought Jangmi. At least towards her. They had sex often but, it didn't go down in the way she'd like to.

Often when it would come to them 'getting it on' it would only end up benefiting Min-hyuk.

"I don't want to try anything new." Minhyuk would argue, leaving a frustrated Jangmi to finish herself off later when she was left alone.

Eventually she stopped fighting it, seeing that she wasn't going to win anyway after time and time again of her trying to explain.

Maybe it's just an obstacle they'd have to overcome in the future, all couples have something they need to work on.

For Min-hyuk, the main obstacle in their relationship was her not wanting to settle down.

She didn't want to be married just yet. The girl loved to party, loved to travel. She was a drinker and she loved to explore and feel free.

She loved looking pretty. Dressing up. One of the main reasons she started her business.

Daily she'd wear makeup and "girly" outfits. She was a very feminine woman who couldn't stand looking overly simple.

Here and there she'd like to expose skin. Nothing drastic but she loved to feel comfortable in her body. She went to the gym daily. She didn't work hard just to not show it off.

Her looks weren't for anyone's gaze. Just for her and her only.

Minhyuk wanted to domesticate her already. Make her the perfect housewife and give birth to their many children. Combine their companies.

He didn't like that she loved to party. He hated that all she wanted to do was try new things and travel.

Do not get him started on her outfits. How could such a woman show off so much?

He didn't understand any of it. He loved her but at some point shouldn't she stop?

"Don't you think you're getting a bit old to be wearing outfits like that?" He asked, leaning against the doorframe

Jangmi wore a simple floral pattern dress. It was long sleeved and flowy at the bottom.

She never wore flats but today she decided to. She dressed so plain today. For once she didn't dress for herself but she dressed for him today. Her outfit was the exact opposite of what she usually wore.

It was one of of the most modest outfits she owned.

"Considering I'm still in my twenties I don't think so at all." She laughed.

"Late twenties might I add." He folded his arms. "Shouldn't you be thinking about your future just a bit more?"

"Uh I think about my future every damn day. You forget I run an entire empire." She scoffed.

"I'm just trying to help you out Jangmi. Nows the age to start thinking just a bit more about the future of us. I want kids. A marriage." He held onto her waist.

"I don't understand why my outfit is stopping us from achieving that." Jangmi tilted her head.

"Just forget it." Minhyuk sighed, a sad expression settling on his face.

"Wait— I'll change." Jangmi exhaled.

She just wanted the best for the two. Minhyuk was all she knew, so she couldn't just give up on him.

Minhyuk's pout turned into a smile instantly. "Thanks Jangmi! I love you."

"I love you too." She smiled, heading back up the stairs.

༊—

"Breathe Yeri. Breathe." Yeri calmed herself down before entering the elevator of Park Enterprises.

She was really there in the building. After using Jangmi as an excuse to see Park Jimin up close and in person, she was finally able to do it.

The smoking hot man she had seen on so many billboards and TV screens she was finally going to see in person.

She was filthy rich and her dad could get her to meet anyone she wanted but for some reason, Jimin wasn't within reach.

He was a busy man who was always traveling. And unlike an idol, he couldn't just do meet and greets.

I guess you could say she was a bit of a fan girl.

The elevators made a "ding" noise as soon as she reached the top floor.

"Okay. You just put them on the desk and leave. Easy." She reminded herself as the elevator doors opened.

Before her plans could be fulfilled, she slammed right into someone.

"Ow!" She winced as she immediately dropped to the floor.

"Oh my goodness— Are you okay?!" The man immediately stooped down and helped her up from the ground.

"Y-Yeah." She struggled to get back on her feet.

"I'm so sorry!" He bowed to her before the two made eye contact.

Damn.

'Who is he?' Yeri thought.

Little did she know he was thinking that same thing.

The two simply stared at each other for a few seconds.

She felt as if she was in some kind of drama. When she looked at him it was like cherry blossoms and lovey dovey music played in the background.

Forget Jimin. She needed this one.

"Are you here to see Mr. Park?" He asked her as he pressed on the elevator button.

She nodded.

"He's not in his office at the moment but I can take those. You're from YooMi. Correct?" He asked her as he took the files from her hand.

She nodded once more.

Damnit, why can't you speak? Yeri thought to herself. No way she was this pathetic in front of him.

"I'm sorry if I've frightened you. I'm Mr. Park's secretary." He bowed to her, her bowing back. "And you are?"

"Ah— I'm Ms. Yoo's assistant."

"You must be new. I know all of Ms. Yoo's assistants." He adjusted his glasses.

"I'm still in training unfortunately. She's just having me run some errands." She explained before the elevator came to a stop.

"I wish you luck. I know she's a pretty tough woman. But this is my stop. Sorry again." He waved goodby before getting off the elevator.

"I need him." She mumbled to herself after waving goodbye to Mr. Park's assistant.

༊—

"Jangmi, please."

"For the last time. Hell no! What are you even on about?! You didn't want a job period now all of a sudden you want to work for me? You're out of your mind." Jangmi walked past the pleading girl.

"I'm so desperate here Jangmi. Can't you find it in your heart to—"

"No." She shook her head. "Not until you explain to me what the hell you're doing this for."

Yeri had spent the last few hours researching Jimin's secretary.

There were images and videos but there were no names. Nothing to work with at all.

She needed to see him again. He introduced himself as Jimin's secretary but didn't even give her his work name. Did he not want to tell her? Was he secretive? What kind of person wouldn't even say their own name?

She figured since Jangmi and Jimin hated each other, she had to know.

"What's his name? Jimin's secretary." Yeri asked.

"Ohhh. That's what this is for." Jangmi smirked. "Finally seen Secretary Sexy up close."

"Don't ever call him that again." Yeri gagged. "That was hard to even hear."

"Whatever. It could be worse, I could like Mr. Park's secretary."

"You don't get it! Jangmi you just had to be there. He was so tall. His shoulders— Oh don't get me started. And he's polite! When we locked eyes it's like..." She trailed off. "Love at first sight!"

Jangmi simply stared at the girl for a moment. Then burst out laughing. "Whew Yeri!" She threw herself on the couch. "You can not be serious!"

"It's not funny!" Yeri began to throw a fit, stomping her feet. "It's like the whole world literally stopped for us! Music started playing and the colors in the elevator became so vibrant like in the movies!"

"The elevator is literally silver and brown!" Jangmi laughed. "Girl he's cute but not that cute!"

"You're childish." She mumbled. "You're just jealous because you're in a generic relationship. You're not in a drama like me okay!"

"And what am I supposed to be in if you're a drama?"

"Those really boring slow silent historical films that only old people watch!" Yeri immaturely pointed at her.

"Well that was just rude. But I guess that's what love at first sight does to you." Jangmi giggled, causing Yeri to huff. "Okay okay that was the last one!"

"Just tell me his name. Oh my gosh- Do you have his number?!" She jumped on the couch.

"How close do you think I am to Mr. Park?!" She exclaimed.

"I have an idea!" Yeri shot up onto her feet.

"Let's hear it." She sighed.

"Buy him."

Jangmi rose an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Yeri smirked. "There must be a reason Park Enterprises runs so well. The secretary. We buy the secretary we buy all of his secrets. Poor guy was overworked. I don't even think he has his own office. Let's march down there and let's buy his secretary!"

"That's..." Jangmi exhaled. "The stupidest idea I've ever heard of. And you just talked about love at first sight. You're an actual idiot."

Yeri whined. "Come on! It's a good idea. Don't you want to know his secrets?"

"As much as I do not like Mr. Park, you're not thinking about this logically. His secretary is bound by his contact. Equally meaning he can not say a damn thing about the Park name. We have no idea what kind of contract he even signed." She took her hair out of her ponytail.

"And to be honest. I don't care about that secretary enough to hire him. I'm not wasting my precious time on some crush that may be loyal to his company." Jangmi shook her head.

"So that's it? Me and him are through?" Yeri dramatically stuffed her face in the pillow. "I thought money could fix everything!"

"You should know very well by now it does not. At all." Jangmi rolled her eyes. Hearing how distraught her best friend was, she caved in.

"His name is Jeon Jungkook. Do you want to go drink and get BBQ?" She asked her.

༊—

"She's perfect isn't she? Beautiful face and a beautiful body. What more could a man want?" Minhyuk boasted in front of the press, arm wrapped around Jangmi's waist.

Tonight they were attending a fashion show in Seoul. The main models were wearing various designs by YooMi and Jangmi couldn't be more proud.

She hand picked the models herself years ago and now with their experience, they'll be walking their first runway.

YooMi wasn't the only brand making an appearance that night.

Park Jimin was only a few feet beside them, waving to the press.

Surprisingly he wasn't alone, but not in the way you'd think.

Secretary Jeon was beside him, answering some questions for Jimin.

It was a bit surprising considering he never really spoke up, so they got a bit more attention than usual.

She paid no attention to them, focusing on the interview in front of her.

"I'm sure he loves my persona too." Jangmi added on, laughing.

Once the interview was wrapped up, Jangmi and Minhyuk made their way to their seats after going through security.

Jangmi happily checked out the area, the room being set up perfectly as she envisioned it.

"This is going to be so good!" The girl rubbed her hands together in excitement.

"Yeah." Minhyuk mumbled, feeling unsteady.

Truth be told the guy didn't want to be here at all. If it was up to him he'd be at home with a cold beer and a porn website.

The show started once everyone took their seats, and Jangmi didn't take her eyes off the runway.

༊—

"Oh my gosh!" Jangmi clapped loudly. "Beautiful! That was so amazing! My girls and boys did so amazing! I'm so proud."

"Yup." Minhyuk looked around. "Do you think the open bar is still available?"

"What's your problem?" She questioned him.

He'd been aching to go since the interview. What could've possibly made him this uneasy?

"You can tell me Minhyuk."

"Earlier. Why did you have to say that?" Minhyuk turned to her.

She looked at him. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm sure he loves my persona too" He mimicked her. "Don't you think that kind of makes me sound like a dick? You should've been more considerate."

"Well I mean all you've done is talk about my looks all night. It was just a harmless joke so relax." She fanned herself.

"I don't need your shit right before a show." He crossed his arms, anger slightly rising.

"You act like it's your brand who's modeling. We came here for me." She scoffed.

"Whatever. It was a shit show anyway. The clothing you submitted wasn't good for shit." He muttered out, clearly ticked off.

"Are you fucking serious? You're acting like a fucking child. If you want to be a dick right now then just fucking go. I have a ride home anyway." She rose her voice.

"Fine. Didn't want to be here anyway." He stood up from his seat and stomped off childishly.

Jangmi breathed out, fanning herself some more.

She needed to calm her nerves before anxiety rose or this wasn't going to end well.

"What's wrong with Captain Hothead?"

"Not now Park. I can not deal with you right now." Jimin eyed her. Analyzing her body language and emotional state.

He didn't see the entire situation go down, but he seen enough to where he could make a good assumption.

She looked stressed from their previous outburst at her boyfriend. Uneasy.

But damn did she look good.

Jangmi had on a steel blue suit with a corset top underneath, revealing some of her cleavage and her stomach piercing which matched the rest of the jewelry she had.

She paired the outfit with diamond jewelry and 4 inch platform heels.

Jimin couldn't help himself but to take a good look at her. Sure she was his rival. But it couldn't hurt to just take a peek.

"You clean up nice." He eyed her once more. "And so did your models. Not bad Ms. Yoo."

"Thank you Mr. Park." She stood up from her chair. "Did you come here to make fun of me because I caused a scene?"

"It's not a scene if no one cares." He smiled. "The world doesn't revolve around you Yoo."

"Whatever." Jangmi was about to push past him but he grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

"Let me take you home." He said suddenly, making her look up at him.

Oddly, Jimin couldn't help himself but sympathize for her. He knew well she didn't like to look vulnerable in front of him, but he wanted to stand before her with open arms.

"What?"

"You said you had a ride. I know for a fact he took the car you both came in. Let me drive you home, neighbor." He reached his hand out to her.

Honestly, she didn't have any other choice. She didn't like the guy but she knew for sure Yeri would be knocked out sleep and there's no one she could depend on to take her home.

Jimin lived right next door, so he's all she got. But why was he being so friendly to her?

"Alright."

༊—

Silent.

It was silent in the car. Who knew they'd be so awkward around each other.

There was small talk between the two in the beginning but it ended up dying down a lot sooner than they both anticipated.

She already thanked him many times for his offer, so not much could be said about that. Jimin didn't mind hearing the praise but she definitely could've said much more.

"You don't seem to shut up any other time. Why the silence now?"

She looked up from playing with her fingers. "I'd figure I'd be nice to you considering I would be stuck at the show without you."

"Always knew you'd need me one day." He chuckled.

"Arrogant."

"What was that?"

"You're arrogant." She repeated.

"You don't like that? All the ladies do."

She scoffed. "I'm not apart of of all the ladies then. And I have a boyfriend so you don't phase me."

"Some boyfriend you have. He's a bit of a boy don't you think? Kind of toddler-like." He raised his eyebrows as he pulled into the gated community they lived in.

"You don't know him. He just had a bad night that's all. It was my fault." She shifted in her seat. "It doesn't matter anyway it's none of your concern."

He chuckled as he pulled into his driveway, turning off the car. "Yeah you're right."

She unbuckled herself and picked up her purse from the floor of the car. "Anyway, thank you Mr. Park for taking me home."

"Anytime." He unbuckled himself.

The two waved their goodbyes and Jimin watched her enter her home safely.

He locked his car and entered in the code to his home before entering.

"It is my concern Ms. Yoo."

༊—

"I'm coming!" Jangmi raced down the staircase, making her way to the front door.

The girl had her pajamas on paired with her froggy slippers. She finished her hair and makeup already for the day 'just because' since she'd be staying home.

Yeri was asleep upstairs, and Jangmi knew damn well Minhyuk wouldn't talk to her first.

So who'd be ringing her doorbell so early in the morning?

Jangmi opened her front door, seeing the very last person she thought would be ringing her doorbell.

"Hey neighbor." The charming man leaned against the doorframe, one ankle crossed over the other.

"Uh hey." Jangmi stared at him, taken back. "Didn't think I'd see you this morning."

One thing about Jangmi, she always avoided eye contact with Jimin.

For him being dressed so casually, he didn't look bad at all.

Why am I checking him out? Shit. Jangmi wondered to herself.

Something about those siren eyes always threw her off. They made her feel distracted.

Was she seriously checking out the guy she couldn't stand in the least? When she had a boyfriend at that?

"I just wanted to check up on you after yesterday." He parted his lips, licking them.

"Like I said, it's none of your concern." She snapped out of his trance. "Why does it matter?"

Why was he still on about it?

"You're right. Can't help but stay curious I guess." He chuckled before his face turned serious. "Eat at my place for breakfast, Ms. Yoo."

Jangmi practically choked on air. "What? Don't you think that's kind of inappropriate?"

"I don't think it is at all. Two CEOs just grabbing a bite to eat." Jimin stuck his hands in his pockets. "Boyfriend won't let you out or what?"

Jangmi huffed. She'd be damned to have anyone think Minhyuk had some sort of power that determined what she'd be doing with her free time.

She was starving, and she knew well Yeri would not be awake in time for the local breakfast diner to be open by the time she woke up.

"Fine, let's go eat. Give me time to get ready."

"You look fine now. We're both in our pajamas and it's not like we're going out somewhere nice. Just my dining room." He smiled.

"Okay." She stepped out of her doorway, walking beside Jimin as they walked over to his home.

[episodeoftv]

Round 1 of 8, Group 6 of 8

propaganda and summaries are under the cut (May include spoilers)

Better Call Saul: 6.07 Plan and Execution

Jimmy and Kim deal with a last-minute snag in their plan; Lalo is forced to make an unexpected move.

Detective Conan: 1.11 Moonlight Sonata Murder Case

cw for suicide and transphobia (murderer poses as a woman but as soon as this is revealed they solely get adressed by their birth name and people use male pronuns for them, then they commit suicide)

Richard is called to Moonlight Island by a mysterious client to investigate a series of murders related to the death of a famous piano player years earlier.

For those that don't know, Detective Conan is a manga turned anime, in which a brilliant but also quite self-absorbed 17-year old detective Shinichi Kudo gets turned into a kid by a failed poison, having him go by Conan Edogawa now. It definitely pegs him down a notch, and Moonlight Sonata is one of the first cases where his character development kicks off. It just subtly and beautifully changed the tone of this show. In almost all previous cases, Conan would unravel how the murderer did it, ending with them confessing and being taken in by police. In this case however, the murderer not only has made a special connection with him during their stay on the island, they also chose to die the same way their family did. And I’m no matter what Conan tried, he couldn't safe them. It's one of the first cornerstones of the difference between pre-poison and post-poison Shinichi. Also, after watching it once, you will always think of this specific episode when hearing Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonana".

[lynetianya]

A Week of Longing [ Karina X Reader ]

Karina found herself engulfed in a whirlwind of emotions as Y/N, her beloved partner, had to leave town for a week due to work commitments.

GENRE : Fluff, Smut

TYPE : One Shot

Karina, also known as Yu Ji-Min, was a prominent figure under the SM Entertainment label, serving as both the leader and member of the famous girl group idol, AESPA. Karina found herself engulfed in a whirlwind of emotions as Y/N, her beloved partner, had to leave town for a week due to work commitments.

In contrast, Y/N was a non-celebrity, Y/N is a young Superintendent General in the Korean police force. This title marked one of the highest ranks within the police hierarchy. Their relationship was a well-kept secret, known only to the members of AESPA and SM Entertainment.

Y/N and Karina Backstory

Y/N's assignment required Y/N to be out of town for an entire week. Y/N was scheduled to conduct seminars and training sessions for new police recruits, which would leave Y/N with no access to internet or communication. When Y/N broke the news to Karina, the idol couldn't help but feel a profound sense of sadness and longing. However, being a compassionate partner, Karina understood the importance of Y/N's work and promised not to burden her during this busy week.

The first day after Y/N's departure, Karina managed to distract herself with her idol duties. She performed on stage, wearing her charismatic and responsible persona, a stark contrast to her inner longing for Y/N.

On the second day, Karina keep listening to her favorite song, "Savior" by Lee Hi. This song always played when she missed Y/N. As she sang along to the lyrics, Winter, Giselle, and Ningning, her fellow AESPA members, couldn't help but notice her melancholic state. They understood that Karina was yearning for Y/N, as Y/N often called during busy times, checking up on her during AESPA's promotions.

By the third day, Karina still had received no communication from Y/N, worsening her mood. Karina's concentration waned. She found it challenging to focus on her work, often drifting into thought. Her usually cheerful demeanor had turned sensitive, a stark departure from her usual self. Giselle finally mustered the courage to ask if everything was alright, and Karina, not wanting to worry her friends, reassured them that she was fine.

On the fifth day, Karina still hadn't received any word from Y/N, and her mood remained low.

By the sixth day, Karina couldn't take it anymore. She longed for Y/N's presence, and her heart ached. She cried alone in her room, calling out Y/N's name repeatedly. She missed Y/N's smile, their conversations, her soothing voice, the way she looked at her, her warm embrace, and her mere existence. Karina cried for a long time, leaving her fellow members worried and unable to console her.

In the midst of her sobs, Karina suddenly heard her phone ringing. She picked it up and was surprised to see Y/N's name on the caller ID once again. Y/N had found a spot with internet access and decided to video call after seeing Karina's earlier message expressing her longing.

Y/N greeted Karina with concern in her eyes and, upon seeing Karina in tears, panicked and immediately asked what was wrong. Karina, unable to contain her emotions any longer, confessed how much she missed Y/N.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't want to make you worry, but I just can't help it. I miss you so much. These days without you have been incredibly hard." She explained that her tears were a testament to her longing.

"I know, love. I've been missing you every moment too. But I promise, I'll be back with you soon."

"Do you really mean it?"

"Absolutely. I won't go anywhere else. I'll come straight to you." Y/N did everything in her power to comfort Karina, promising that she would rush to her side as soon as her training was over. She vowed to fulfill all of Karina's wishes upon her return.

Y/N's efforts eventually succeeded in calming Karina's tears.

"You know what? Even when you're crying, you're still stunning." say Y/N teasing karina

"You're such a charmer." karina laught and blushing after hearing that.

"I'm serious, Karina. I love you, no matter what."

"I love you too, Y/N."

Karina finally smiled again, and her fellow members, Winter, Giselle, and Ningning, who had been eavesdropping on their conversation, were delighted and envious of the couple's intimacy.

"Did you hear that, guys? They're so sweet together." winter whispered to the other 2 members.

"I'm honestly a little envious. They're deeply in love." say giselle nodding.

"Karina unnie deserves all the happiness in the world." Ningning grinned broadly at Karina.

"Hey, you three, quit snooping!"

On the final day, Karina's mood returned to normal as she resumed her idol activities. She spent the evening alone in the dorm, as her fellow members were busy with their own schedules.

Suddenly, the dorm's doorbell rang, and Karina, thinking her fellow members had returned, opened the door to find someone unexpected. It was Y/N, still dressed in her police uniform, looking handsome as ever. Karina immediately enveloped Y/N in a tight embrace, showering Y/N with kisses on her forehead, cheeks, and lips.

Y/N, aware of Karina's longing, simply accepted her clinginess with a smile. She explained that she had come directly to Karina after finishing her training. Karina, worried that Y/N must be exhausted, insisted on pampering her and made Y/N promise to rest in her dorm.

Y/N, who had vowed to fulfill all of Karina's wishes, happily complied. That night, they ate, watched TV, and slept together. Karina didn't let go of Y/N even for a moment, holding her tightly. She showered Y/N with affection, showering Y/N with kisses and repeatedly expressing her love.

As the night deepens, Karina held Y/N close, their bodies pressed against each other, their eyes locked.

Karina couldn't help but think about how attractive Y/N looked in her police uniform. As their eyes met, an undeniable chemistry sparked between them. Without even realizing it, Karina leaned in and kissed Y/N. Their lips met, and they shared a passionate, lingering kiss, their breaths growing heavier with each passing moment.

The kiss deepened, becoming more fervent, as Karina couldn't get enough of Y/N's taste. Their tongues danced in a sensual, intimate embrace, and the world around them faded away. In that moment, it was just Karina and Y/N, lost in their love and desire for each other.

They broke the kiss only when they needed to catch their breath. Panting and flushed, they gazed into each other's eyes, their hearts pounding in rhythm. Y/N's lips curved into a mischievous smile as she whispered, "You're so irresistible, miss Yu."

Karina blushed but couldn't help but grin in response. "You're not so bad yourself, Officer Y/N." She playfully tugged at Y/N's uniform, teasing her.

Karina and Y/N continued to explore their deep connection. Their kisses grew more fervent, their hands caressing each other with a burning desire that had built up over the past week. It was a reunion neither of them had anticipated but had yearned for with every fiber of their beings.

Their clothes, still a barrier between their heated bodies, became a hindrance. Y/N, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, slowly began to undress Karina, his fingers tracing the contours of her body. Karina's heart raced as Y/N's lips left a trail of fiery kisses along her neck, causing her to gasp in pleasure.

"Uhh Y/N~" she whispered, her voice heavy with desire.

Y/N responded with a low growl, his lips finding hers once more. Their tongues danced in a passionate tango as their bodies pressed closer together. Karina felt a delicious ache between her legs, a need that only Y/N could satisfy.

With a sudden burst of urgency, Y/N lifted Karina into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. Their lips never parted, their kisses becoming increasingly desperate as they tumbled onto the bed.

"Jimin..." Y/N murmured against her lips, "I love you."

Her response was a breathless moan as Y/N's hand found its way to the waistband of her panties, slowly teasing and tormenting her until she was writhing beneath him.

Their lovemaking was a fiery crescendo of desire and longing, each thrust bringing them closer to the edge. When they finally reached their peak, it was with a shared cry of release, their bodies trembling with the intensity of their passion.

As they lay entwined in each other's arms, their breathing slowly returning to normal, Karina and Y/N exchanged tender kisses and sweet whispers of affection.

"I missed you so much," Karina murmured, her fingers tracing patterns on Y/N's chest.

Y/N kissed the top of her head, holding her even closer. "I missed you too, more than words can express. I promise I'll never be away for so long again."

Karina tilted her head up to look into Y/N's eyes, her heart filled with love. "I don't know what I would do without you, Y/N. You complete me in every way."

Y/N smiled, his thumb brushing over her cheek. "And you, Karina, you make my life brighter and more beautiful every day. I love you more than anything in this world."

They sealed their declarations of love with a sweet kiss, savoring the taste of each other's lips.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Karina stirred in Y/N's arms, her eyes fluttering open. She smiled as she realized Y/N was still beside her, his steady heartbeat beneath her ear.

"Good morning," Y/N whispered, his lips brushing against her forehead.

Karina snuggled closer, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. "Morning, Y/N. I can't believe you're here with me."

Y/N kissed her temple. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

They lay in contented silence for a while, simply reveling in each other's presence. But eventually, the responsibilities of the day called them back to reality.

"I should get dressed and head back to the station," Y/N said regretfully.

Karina pouted, not wanting to let him go. "Do you have to? but you promise me..."

Y/N chuckled. "As much as I'd love to stay in bed with you all day, duty calls. I'll just be gone for a moment and will be back in an hour, okay?"

Reluctantly, they got out of bed and began to dress. Karina watched Y/N with admiration as he buttoned up his police uniform, every movement exuding confidence and strength.

Y/N noticed her gaze and smirked. "Like what you see?"

Karina blushed and nodded. "You look amazing in that uniform."

He leaned in and kissed her softly. "You make me feel amazing."

After a quick breakfast together, Y/N prepared to leave. Karina walked him to the door, holding onto his hand as long as she could.

"Promise me you'll come back soon," she said, her eyes pleading.

Y/N smiled warmly. "I promise, love. I'll be back before you know it."

With a final kiss and a lingering embrace, Y/N reluctantly left, heading back to his duties as a police officer. Karina watched him go, her heart filled with love and longing.

Part 3

My Masterlist