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tteotlma · 16 hours ago
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Sugar and Skin
4. Fractured Focus || Previous - Next
A late-night encounter lingers in the quiet hum of the shop, a step too close and a touch nearly made, leaving behind something unspoken—something that refuses to fade.
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TattooArtist!Bucky x Baker!Reader (4.6kwc)
tw: 18+ MDNI; mild language, subtle tension, implied attraction, slow-burn, strangers to friends to lovers, mentions of smoking, lingering touches, close proximity, unspoken intentions a/n: pls forgive me if some of the phrases are repetitive... i dont know how else to word and reword the same motions sometimes ((babes im so sorry for the wait.. it's been crazy... I started training at my new job.. i quit that job.. I saw hugh jackman in new york city, fell behind in school work so i had to catch up and then i got a new internet crush... so it's been CRAZY anyway..)) enjoy!!
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The shop was unusually quiet for an early afternoon, the faint hum of the fridge muffled through the walls of the back room. Bucky sat in his station chair, feet propped on the black recliner stretched across from him as he leaned back, a sketchbook balanced on his lap. The pen in his hand moved slowly, purposefully, trailing delicate lines across the page. 
He wasn’t even sure what had drawn him to this particular image. At first, it had been a simple twig, then small berries began to take shape, clustered tightly together. His usual sketches were bold and heavy—intimidating designs for ink that would sit on someone’s skin forever. But this? This was… different. 
The soft red ink shaded each berry into a round plump form, almost glistening on the page. Leaves sprouted from the stems, broad and delicate, with the faintest etchings of veins running through them. Thorns lined the thin branches, sharp and deliberate, giving the otherwise soft drawing a quiet angst. 
Bucky’s brow furrowed slightly as he added detail to the sketch, his focus sharp yet relaxed. The raspberries, though he never called them that in his mind, seemed to grow beneath his hand, as if they were waiting to spill from the page. His hand lingered over the image, caught up in the small folds of a leaf and the way the weight of the fruit bent the stem. 
“You know,” Steve’s voice broke through the stillness, startling Bucky just enough for his boot to slip from the bench. He straightened, quickly closing the sketchbook with one hand as his sharp blue eyes flicked up toward his friend.
Steve stood at the counter, arms crossed, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was trying not to grin. “I’ve been reading up on insubordination,” he began, feigning seriousness as he leaned casually against the counter. “And technically, I’m your boss, which means when I send you to get my stuff and the stuff is given to you, I expect you to bring everything to me.”
Bucky sat up straighter, his boots hitting the floor with a dull thud. “I do,” he said defensively, his tone clipped. “I did.”
Steve’s grin broke free, his feigned seriousness dissolving. “Relax, Buck. I’m kidding.” He waved a hand, stepping away from the counter. “You don’t even know what I’m talking about yet and you’re already giving yourself away.”
Bucky gave him a sharp look, his brows pulling together in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” Steve replied with a laugh, shaking his head as he approached. His eyes flicked to the sketchbook still tucked under Bucky’s hand. “What’ve you been working on?”
“Nothing important,” Bucky said quickly, but Steve ignored him, leaning over to tug the book free.
Steve flipped it open before Bucky could protest, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied the page. “Huh.”
“Huh?” Bucky repeated, annoyed.
Steve tilted the book toward him, tapping the edge of the page. “This isn’t your usual style.”
“No shit,” Bucky muttered, grabbing the sketchbook back and closing it with a snap.
“Relax,” Steve said again, his grin softening. “It’s good. Just… different. Almost delicate.” He raised a brow, but didn’t press further, stepping back toward the counter. “Anyway, don’t forget to grab my coffee tomorrow, thanks.”
Bucky scoffed, watching as Steve disappeared into the back room. When the shop fell silent again, he glanced down at his sketchbook, the edges of the raspberries still vivid in his mind. With a quiet sigh, he leaned back in the chair and flipped the book open again, his pen hovering over the page.
The raspberries stared back at him, vibrant against the soft cream of the paper. Bucky tapped his pen against the edge of the page once, twice, before letting it trail back to the delicate stem, adding another small thorn.
—-
The shop had emptied out hours ago, leaving only the quiet hum of the fridge and the soft scratching of Bucky’s pen against paper. The raspberries on yet another page had taken form in a way that felt almost absentminded, the delicate shading of each berry and the sharp, spiked edges of the leaves coming together without much thought.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes flicking toward the clock. It was late. Too late to still be here, but something kept him rooted to the spot. He exhaled sharply through his nose, flipping the sketchbook shut with one hand before running the other through his hair.
He needed air, maybe a cigarette, probably both.
Pushing himself up from the chair, he grabbed his jacket, shrugging it on as he made his way toward the door. The air outside was crisp, the streets quiet save for the distant hum of a passing car.
And then—
The soft scuff of a shoe against pavement made him glance up.
She was standing a few steps away, caught mid-stride under the dim glow of the street lamp. 
Bucky froze.
For a moment, neither of them moved. 
The light above buzzed faintly, bathing her in warm hues against the dark backdrop of the street. She clutched the strap of her bag a little tighter, her fingers flexing against the worn leather as if she hadn’t quite expected to run into him either. 
His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the smoke from his lips curling faintly in the cool night air. 
“Didn’t think you’d still be here.” She said, voice quiet. 
“Neither did I.” He finally said, voice low and rough from hours of silence. 
A pause.
The silence stretched, thick and unyielding. It wasn’t the comfortable kind, but neither of them seemed to want to break it too soon.
Bucky shifted his weight slightly, exhaling another slow stream of smoke. His fingers twitched against the worn leather of his jacket, debating what to do with his hands. He could feel the way she was watching him—cautious, curious, like she was trying to decipher him.
His voice came quieter this time, more curious than anything. “Didn’t think this was your usual route.”
She took a slow step forward, fingers flexing against the strap of her bag. “Oh, I just wanted to run through some stuff with Steven if he was still here.”
Bucky’s gaze flicked toward the darkened tattoo shop behind him, then back to her. “You just missed him.”
A beat of silence passed, thick with something unspoken. She nodded, lips pressing together like she was weighing whether to say something else. Bucky didn’t move, didn’t press, instead he just watched, his empty hand sliding into the pocket of his jacket as the air between them stretched.
The distant sound of a car rumbled through the street, headlights sweeping past them for only a second before disappearing around the bend. The glow of the streetlamp flickered slightly, casting shifting shadows across the pavement.
Bucky’s gaze flickered down, catching the way she rubbed her fingers against the worn strap of her purse —a nervous habit, maybe. His own fingers curled inside his pockets.
The stillness felt heavier than it should’ve, settling in his chest like a weight. He exhaled through his nose, then brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a slow drag. The tip flared in the dark, smoke curling around his face as he held the breath for a moment before releasing it into the night air.
“You smoke a lot?” Her voice cut through the quiet, soft but pointed.
Bucky flicked his eyes down to the ember at the tip, rolling the cigarette between his fingers, considering. Smoke curled lazily in the space between them. “Depends on the day.”
She hummed, tilting her head slightly, like she was turning the answer over in her mind, weighing it.
Bucky brought the cigarette to his lips again, taking another long drag, letting the burn settle deep before exhaling slowly. The air between them clouded with it, thinning as it drifted up toward the streetlamp’s glow.
“One of those days, then?”
His fingers twitched.
Bucky looked at her—really looked at her—his gaze tracing the way the dim light softened her features. She wasn’t looking at him, not fully, just watching the ember flicker, waiting for an answer.
He inhaled again, slow, the nicotine further grounding him.
Then, he let out a short chuckle almost a scoff, low and almost to himself. “You could say that.”
She shifted on her feet, fingers tightening slightly around the strap of her bag. The words seemed to catch in her throat before she finally managed, “Actually, do you think maybe I could just… leave something inside for Steven?”
Bucky’s brow lifted slightly, but he didn’t move. “Yeah?”
She nodded quickly, a little too quickly, and gestured to the folder tucked in her bag. “It’s just—uh—it’s nothing urgent but—. Just some things I drafted for him for that thing you guys are doing.”
Bucky’s gaze flickered to the folder, then back to her face. She wasn’t looking at him—not directly. Her fingers fumbled slightly as she messed with the folder in her bag, like she was feeling the weight of the silence just as much as he was.
He exhaled through his nose, slowly, then shifted his stance. “Yeah, alright,” he murmured, reaching beside him to pull the door open. “Come on.” 
Bucky watched as she hesitated for only a fraction of a second before stepping toward him, her movements quick but deliberate.
She slowed just as she neared him, close enough that he could see the way her breath caught, the faintest hitch in her chest before she steadied herself. Her eyes dragged up his frame, lingering for just a beat too long before finally meeting his gaze.
As their eyes met, Bucky exhaled slowly, the cigarette perched between his lips, smoke curling between them in the narrow space. His free hand held the door open, fingers curling around the edge as he leaned into it, using the frame as lazy leverage. The glow of the tip cast flickering shadows across his face, the low light making his sharp features even sharper, the silver glint of his nose piercing catching faintly.
She hesitated for another second, her fingers twitching against her elbows as her arms crossed her chest. His gaze dipped slightly, just for a fraction of a breath, before flicking back to hers. He didn’t say anything, just watched her, the slow pull of smoke filling the space between them like something tangible.
Then, with an almost reluctant exhale, he reached up and plucked the cigarette from his lips, the barest hint of a smirk ghosting across his features as he dragged his tongue across his lower lip. The motion was slow, almost thoughtless, but she caught it—her eyes flicking to his mouth for just a second too long. His gaze met hers again, amusement glinting beneath the surface.
“You gonna go in,” he murmured, voice low, “or we just gonna stand here?”
Her breath hitched, just barely, before she shifted, stepping past him into the shop.
Bucky didn’t move from the doorway right away. He lingered just long enough to watch her falter in her steps before stepping further into the dim shop. The scent of her—something warm, something faintly sweet—brushed past him, but he didn’t let his gaze linger.
Instead, he sighed slowly, rolling the cigarette between his fingers before flicking it into the little tray by the window. His steps were unhurried as he followed her inside.
“You know where his desk is,” he muttered, nodding vaguely toward the back. The soft click of the door seemingly echoed in the vacant shop 
“Right. Yep.”She moved without another word, sneakers scuffing lightly against the hardwood as she disappeared past the main workstations. 
Bucky stood still for another second, fingers flexing slightly at his sides before he exhaled through his nose and trudged to where he sat earlier. Staring at the discarded papers strewn throughout his area, he sighed again shrugging off his jacket. The leather slid off his arms in one smooth motion, and he tossed it lazily onto the back of his chair.
Then, as if none of this was anything, he sat down. 
His eyes flicked to the sketchbook, still open to the crimson crops decorating the pageg. The red ink bled into the page in soft gradients, the delicate shading giving them weight, depth. He hadn’t planned on sketching them again, but somehow every time his mind came up empty, the shape of sweetness had come easy, his hand moving without thought, refining the curve of each berry he drew, the way stems wove together, thorns barely visible but always there.
His fingers hovered over the edge of the paper, the pen tapping idly against the margin. He wasn’t really thinking just tracing lines, smoothing out shadows, letting the motion guide him. The act itself was grounding, something to focus on, something to fill the quiet.
Bucky exhaled slowly, dragging the pen along the edge of a leaf, darkening the veins, sharpening the points where the thorns curled. The thorns had come later, after the berries, after the delicate lines and soft shadows. He didn’t know why, exactly—just that the drawing had always felt unfinished without them.
The shop was quiet. Too quiet.
The soft shuffle of footsteps barely registered until he felt a presence at his back.
"You've been busy."
The words were soft, spoken just behind him. Close.
Bucky stilled.
His fingers flexed against the pen, grip tightening slightly as the voice settled over him—quiet, but not uncertain.
He didn’t turn immediately.
Instead, he let the weight of her presence settle, let the space between them shrink just enough to be fully noticeable.
Then, slowly, he angled his head, catching her in his periphery.
She was standing closer than expected, her arms crossed loosely over her chest, her gaze flickering between the scattered sketches on the desk before landing on the one beneath his hand.
Bucky stared at her, waiting.
She nodded toward the page. “Didn’t take you for the delicate type.”
His mouth twitched. “I’m not.” He spoke too quick for his liking.
“Mm.” The sound was quiet, skeptical.
But she didn’t step away. Instead, her attention slowly dropped, shifting away from the sketchbook. It was subtle, something no one would notice unless they were really looking at her. Unless they were paying attention.
His gaze tracked the way her eyes flickered downward, no longer fixed on the paper but on him.
Her eyes traced the ink along his forearm, the dark lines and sharp, angular designs shifting over his skin as he involuntarily flexed his fingers. His tattoos were nothing like the sketches that were strewn about the room. They instead were stark, intricate, built from jagged lines and interlocking symbols that looked almost mechanical in their precision. They sprawled up his arms in bold, geometric bands, twisting and branching in patterns that mimicked circuitry, disappearing beneath the sleeve of his shirt like a secret map etched into his skin.
And she was still looking.
Bucky felt the way her focus kept drifting back, like she was trying not to, like she was searching for something else to land on but every time, her eyes traced the same path. His fingers, then his hands, and then arms, the way the veins ran just beneath the surface of his skin.
She swallowed.
“So,” she said, her voice quieter than usual, like she was only speaking to fill the space. “You, uh… sketch a lot?”
Her eyes flicked up briefly to his then to the book beneath his hand, like she was forcing herself to focus on the book in front of him instead of the way his biceps flexed slightly when he shifted in his seat.
Bucky tilted his head slightly, not answering right away, just watching her.
“I mean, I guess that’s obvious,” she continued, fidgeting slightly where she stood, fingers twitching against her arm as she still had them crossed loosely against her chest. “Tattoo artist and all.” She quickly glanced at him. The motion was quick, barely there, but Bucky caught it.
He caught all of it.
His tongue flicked against his lower lip, slow, measured.
“Yeah,” he finally murmured, voice still hushed, and rough around the edges.
That should have been the end of it. She should have nodded, maybe said something about how it made sense, how he was good at what he did, then gone back to whatever excuse she had for still standing there.
But she didn’t.
Instead, her fingers flexed against her arm again, her weight shifting like she was debating something before finally nodding toward his sketchbook.
“This one’s…” she started, “not what I expected.”
Bucky’s brow twitched, his fingers tightening just slightly where they rested against his book.
She was still looking.
Still filling the silence.
Bucky dragged his tongue along the inside of his cheek, the corner of his mouth twitching just slightly. Her focus flickered between the sketchbook and his arms, like she was trying to settle on one or the other but couldn’t quite manage to stick the landing.
Instead of calling attention to it, Bucky let the silence stretch, watching the way she fidgeted slightly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Not nervous—just… preoccupied.
Her eyes flickered to the sketchbook again, as if reminding herself why she was standing there in the first place. “It’s just different from what I thought you’d draw.” Her voice was even, casual, but the way she kept her arms crossed tightly over her chest gave away that she wasn’t as relaxed as she sounded.
Bucky tapped his pen lightly against the edge of the book, watching her through half-lidded eyes. “Yeah?”
She nodded, her gaze darting across the page. “I guess I figured it’d be more like…” She hesitated, searching for the right word… before her eyes drifted again not toward the sketch, but to him. 
“You know,” her gaze traced the length of his fingers where they rested against the edge of the sketchbook, absentmindedly running his fingers against the edges of the paper. 
“Like the kind that…” her eyes then traced higher, following the veins that cut sharply along his forearm, disappearing beneath the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt. The intricate lines of his tattoos stretched over the muscle, shifting subtly with every small movement. 
“That…?” Bucky tucked his lower lip between his teeth, trying to hid his enjoyment in whatever was happening in front of him. 
Her attention lingered on his bicep a sec, then trailed upward again, sweeping over the broad plane of his chest, the way the fabric of his shirt stretched tight over it, dipping just slightly at the collar to reveal the edge of what seemed like the same tattoo.
Her lips parted slightly, eyes flitting up—finally—to meet his.
Bucky was still watching her.
She immediately cleared her throat, and stood straigh shifting her weight.
“I-I’m sorry it’s been a long day, I think I’m losing my train of thought.” 
Bucky didn’t miss the way her arms tightened against her chest, the huff of air she let out blowing a few stray strands of loose hair from her face. He watched, eyes tracking every small movement, as she reached up to push the hair back behind her ear, her fingers brushing lightly against her cheek.
Then she took a step back.
His gaze followed her as she leaned against the edge of the metal dresser behind her, shifting slightly until she was fully braced against it.
And then—
His jaw ticked.
He didn’t mean to look.
Didn’t mean to notice the way the hem of her jeans hugged the soft curve of her thighs, how the fabric subtly creased and pulled as she shifted her weight back against the dresser. It was brief—just a flicker of movement—but Bucky felt something twist in his chest.
His grip on the pen tightened, fingers flexing against the smooth barrel, accidentally leaving a violent mark across the page.
His brain felt like it stalled for half a second, before jolting back into motion, forcing him to drag his eyes away.
He shifted in his seat, rolling his shoulders like it would shake off whatever strange pull had settled over him. The shop was too quiet, the air thick with something unspoken, and Bucky suddenly hated how aware he was of everything—the faint scent of sugar and vanilla clinging to her skin, the soft hum of her breathing, the way she had caught her bottom lip between her teeth for half a second before releasing it.
He needed to say something. Needed to break whatever this was.
“You figured what?” he asked, his voice coming out lower than he intended.
Her brows lifted slightly, like she had forgotten what they were talking about. “Huh?”
Bucky tapped his pen against the edge of the sketchbook. “You said you figured I’d draw something different.”
“Oh. Right.” She let out a quiet breath, eyes flicking back to the page—though her posture was a little stiffer now, like she had caught onto the shift in atmosphere. “I just meant… I guess I thought your style would be more bold. Darker, maybe.”
Bucky hummed, his grip relaxing just slightly on the pen. “Most of the time, it is.”
She tilted her head, considering that. “So what made you change?”
He hesitated, the pen stilling against the paper.
For a second, he thought about lying—thought about brushing it off as nothing, as a mindless sketch, as something without weight.
But the raspberries stared back at him, delicate and vivid, surrounded by the sharp twist of thorns.
“Dunno,” he murmured finally, voice quiet, unreadable. “Just happened.”
She hesitated just a moment longer, adjusting the strap of her bag again, fingers gripping it as if she needed something to ground herself. “Artists,” she finally said, the word a soft exhale, laced with something almost amused, almost fond.
Bucky’s gaze flicked to her hands, to the way she flexed her fingers against the strap, before dragging his eyes back to her face. He didn’t say anything, just watched as she shifted, as she took the first slow step toward the door.
“It’s getting late. I should go.”
Something about the way she said it made something in Bucky’s chest press tight—like it was the natural conclusion, the only logical ending to whatever this had been.
Still, before he could stop himself, before he could think about it, he was standing.
She noticed immediately.
He moved without hesitation—quicker, smoother—and as he straightened to his full height, the shift in his posture made her steps falter just slightly. Her head tilted up, her brows twitching in the faintest flicker of surprise.
His fingers flexed briefly, then curled into his palm.
"Um…" He cleared his throat, fidgeting just slightly. "Sh—should I take you home?"
Her breath caught, just a fraction. Her fingers twitched against the zipper of her sweater.
Bucky felt the words sit heavy in the air between them, waiting.
She blinked at him, like she wasn’t sure if she’d heard him correctly.
He forced himself to hold her gaze, suddenly wondering what had even prompted him to ask. The words had left his mouth before he’d fully thought them through, hanging between them, heavy and uncertain.
“I got my bike out back,” he added, quieter, as if that somehow explained everything.
She stared at him for half a second longer, her expression unreadable. For a fleeting moment, Bucky thought she might actually say yes.
But then her lips parted, and a dry, almost amused lilt colored her voice.
“Your bike?”
Bucky exhaled slowly through his nose, nodding once. “Yeah.”
Her fingers flexed again, then curled into her palm. “And you think I’m just gonna get on the back of it?”
His brow twitched, but he stayed still. “Why not?”
She held his gaze, something flickering behind her eyes before she let out a slow breath. “That’s not a good idea.”
Bucky’s fingers curled slightly at his sides. “Why not?”
Her lips parted like she had an answer, but whatever it was never made it past her tongue. Instead, she just exhaled again, her grip tightening around the strap of her bag. “It just isn’t.”
His jaw shifted, considering her for a moment, before he gave a slow, almost reluctant nod. “Alright.”
Something in her posture eased, but only just.
Still, neither of them moved.
“Really,” he opened the door for her, stepping halfway through, his frame filling the doorway. “It’s not an issue.”
“No, really–”
She moved, and suddenly, they were in the doorway, the narrow space between them forcing them chest to chest. Closer than either of them had prepared for. The narrow space between them barely existed, her breath catching as she realized just how little room there was to step past him.
“Oh, Um..” Her voice coming out rushed. “Sorry i didn’t mean… I wasn’t—” and then as if second nature, her hand lifted. Maybe to steady herself, maybe for something else. But the moment her fingers grazed the fabric of his shirt, just barely, she froze.
Bucky did too.
“Paying attention…” She drawled out, staring at the stretched fabric over his chest. The touch of her hand was fleeting, but it sent something sharp through the space between them, something tense, something neither of them knew how to speak on.
She pulled her hand away quickly, like she’d been burned, like she hadn’t meant to do it at all.
“U-um—thank you,” she murmured, quieter this time, a little breathless, a little uncertain as she cradled the hand that touched him to her chest. Like she had been hurt. She stepped fully through the doorway. 
Bucky’s eyes flickered down, watching the way her fingers curled slightly against her palm. Something about it made his chest tighten, made his jaw flex, but he didn’t move. Didn’t say anything.
Not until she did.
“Maybe next time," she murmured, "Goodnight, Bucky.” She smiled at him softly before turning in the opposite direction, and heading back towards her store. 
Maybe next time.
Bucky’s fingers flexed at his sides, his pulse thrumming in a slow, steady beat against his ribs. He didn’t know why he was still standing there, watching her walk away, or why the sound of his name on her lips sent something sharp and unfamiliar through him.
His throat worked around the weight of whatever the hell this was.
He could have said goodnight. Could have given her a nod, a grunt—something easy, something that wouldn’t feel like stepping into whatever was settling between them, thick and unspoken. Instead, he just watched as she disappeared over the bend of the sidewalk.
The door groaned softly as it swung back into place, the brass bell giving one last muted chime.
Bucky stood there for a moment longer than he should have.
Then, with a slow exhale, he reached for the lock, twisting it into place before dragging a hand threw his hair and around his jaw.
His other hand tugged at the fabric of his shirt, the ghost of something warm against his chest making the material feel too tight all of a sudden. Like it had shrunk in the last thirty seconds.
Bucky rolled his shoulders, flexed his arms stretching them down his sides, but it didn’t shake the feeling.
With a quiet sigh, he turned back toward his station, eyes drifting over the scattered pages, the open sketchbook. The raspberries stared back at him, vivid and red, surrounded by sharp, curling thorns.
Bucky dragged his tongue over his molars, then reached for his pen, twirling it once between his fingers before setting it down.
He should go home.
He would.
Eventually.
But for now, he sat back down, flipping to a fresh page.
And, without thinking, he started to draw.
a/n: again thank you so much for your patience w/ this chapter huhuhu~ please reblog to support! I also love feedback, and comments :)
Literally your comments are hilarious
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suzukiblu · 2 days ago
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WIP excerpt for lottie behind the cut; “a pocketful of Kons”. Rewrote/added-to/edited the first few paragraphs of this scene, so including the adjusted intro in here too. content warnings: Cassie is a teenage girl with anxiety/self-worth issues who is not old enough to understand why her mom is so concerned about the idea of "Superman" being her soulmate and therefore has some, like, somewhat unhealthy/concerning thought processes about how she should BE Superman's soulmate. (( chrono || non-chrono ))
Cassie’s never actually been to the Watchtower before, and it’s maybe a little embarrassing how cool she can’t help thinking it all is. Cas seems to think it’s pretty cool too–which makes sense, since it’s technically his first time here too and on top of that also a pretty important place to Superman–and keeps zipping ahead and around curiously and then back to her again and again. Sometimes he takes Odie with him, but mostly he gets excited and forgets to. 
He'd gotten really excited when Cassie'd changed into her costume before they'd come up here, but she's still kind of flustered about that particular experience so like, she's maybe just . . . not gonna think about it right now. 
He'd been really, really excited, though. She doesn't think anybody's ever been so happy to see her version of Wonder Girl, even people whose lives she was, like, actively saving at the time. 
Diana gives Cas a thoughtful look while he’s following the elevator buttons as they light up from floor to floor, but doesn’t say anything about it. 
“I spoke with Zatanna when I called in earlier,” she says instead as they step out of the elevator, and Cassie feels increasingly embarrassed about . . . literally everything, basically. How many people exactly did Diana tell about Cas? And how many of those people are gonna be here and want to ask her questions about him, possibly at the same time?
She’s not, like–Cas is her Pocket; she’s not ashamed of him. 
She is super, super embarrassed about the idea of Zatanna and Black Canary and Green Arrow and the Flash and every single Green Lantern and probably, like, Batman all asking her why Superman’s her soulmate. Like–definitely that sounds embarrassing. 
Or life-alteringly mortifying, at least. 
“Uh, did she . . . say anything?” Cassie asks awkwardly, not really sure why Diana mentioned that anyway. “Like, um–about . . . Superman, or whatever.” 
“She informed me of the fact that he appears to have returned to Metropolis, of course, but also that he has made no attempt to contact the League,” Diana says. “Nor anyone else he might've been expected to.” 
Cassie . . . blinks. Who else would he even . . . ? 
Well–probably Supergirl, she guesses. She doesn't think Supergirl's in the League or anything. But otherwise, well . . . it's not like there's all that many people running around with the “S” on or anything. Like, it's really just the two of them, right? 
And if his first soulmate isn't dead–like, he'd want to see her, obviously. 
Or maybe Diana means, like–her. 
Superman has to have a Pocket of her too, after all, and if hers showed up in costume like Cas did . . . well, it's not like she'd be that hard to find. Especially not for Superman. With how fast he is, he could've been in Gateway about five seconds after deciding he wanted to be in Gateway. So like, if he had wanted to . . . 
Cassie feels a little–weird about that, for some reason. Like . . . a little freaked-out, maybe. She doesn't know why; he's her soulmate. There's nothing to get freaked-out by. Even if he's probably the greatest hero of the sector after Diana and basically everyone not a supervillain idolizes and adores and trusts him and he’s, like–he's Superman, and she's . . . 
Well. She's definitely not Wonder Woman, if nothing else. Or Troia, either. She's just kind of . . . here, maybe. Like–by comparison and all, she means. 
Cassie thinks about how cold and empty Superman’s face had looked on the feed from Metropolis and feels a little weirder, and still doesn't know why. Which–she needs to, like–stop that, obviously. Needs to step up here. If Superman needs her, she can't be weird around him. Whether his other soulmate's dead or not, whatever's wrong with him is clearly really wrong. 
Just–his face. He’d looked so . . . 
She just needs to not get–weird, or anxious, or whatever about that. She just needs to be, like–just needs to figure out what he needs, and how to be that. That’s all. Like, what if he had come looking for her and she’d gotten freaked-out on him? How would that help him? He literally got beat to death in front of the whole world by a monster nobody else could take out, and his other soulmate might be dead, and his face looked like that, and . . . 
She just needs to figure out how to be what he needs. That’s just, like–that’s obviously what she has to do. She has to figure it out, and then she has to be it. 
She doesn’t understand why her mom’s so upset that someone actually needs her, for once. 
“Uh . . . so do they think that’s, like . . . a bad sign, then?” she asks, a little awkward. She’s heard a few million weird ways that people in the community “died” or un-died, and plenty of them weren’t really, like . . . necessarily benevolent ones, she guesses would be the best way to describe it. “Like do they think he’s got amnesia or something? Or like, did he not even actually die, or did he only just come back, or–I dunno, was he only gone so long because somebody just had his body locked up somewhere or–?” 
Cas makes a weird sound she’s never heard a Pocket make before, and she–blinks, and looks over towards him reflexively. He zips over and hovers over her shoulder, tugging insistently at the long ends of her wig and making the sound again. It’s sort of . . . 
It doesn’t sound like he’s singing, but it’s . . . musical, sort of. 
Diana tilts her head and gives Cas another thoughtful look. 
“Cas?” Cassie asks, frowning at him. “What’s . . . wrong?” 
She’s not actually sure something’s wrong, but the musical sound is–weird, kinda. Like, it’s sort of cute, but also she’s just never heard any Pocket make it before. Like, not even on TV or in a movie or anything. 
Is it a Kryptonian thing, maybe? Or is it because of whatever made Superman’s face look so–empty? 
“Wondy!” Cas protests. “Wondy Wondy!” 
“Um . . .” Cassie trails off, not sure what he’s upset about or if he actually is upset, or is just trying to tell her something. He looks kind of upset, now, but more in a frustrated way than anything else. 
Cas makes an indignant face, his cheeks puffing out in–frustration, maybe? annoyance?–and yanks at her wig again, this time hard enough to tug at the clips in her hair and nearly pull it crooked. Cassie reflexively grabs the other side to tug it back down, and Cas makes the musical sound again, louder. 
It actually doesn’t even really sound like a sound a person would make. More like something, like . . . maybe more like something an instrument would. 
Odie churrs inquisitively, and Cas lets go of her wig, scowls at her, and then zips over to Diana’s shoulder instead and throws himself at Odie, who wraps an arm around his shoulders and lets him burrow in against his side and very obviously sulk there like a grumpy little kid. 
. . . yeah, Cassie has literally zero clue what to take from that behavior.
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navybrat817 · 9 months ago
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Jawbreaker
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky put a mouthy rookie in his place. Word Count: Over 800 Warnings: Established relationship, mention of injury, misogyny, punching, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes defending you (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm dedicating this to @whisperlullaby , who got to read this in advance, because she deserves this man (along with the rest of you). ❤️Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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A small part of Bucky felt bad as he idly wiped his hand with a towel. A very small part.
He didn’t want people to fear him because of his past and he refused to let it define him. That meant that he tried his best to avoid violent tactics unless absolutely necessary.
But today, well, fuck that. The fucker had it coming.
Steve stood in front of him, his blue eyes narrowed as he waited for his best friend to acknowledge him.
Oh, Bucky expected some sort of reprimand, but he was sure Steve would change his tune in a minute or so.
“You gonna ask me what happened, punk, or glare at me until I talk?” He asked, tossing the towel away.
The blonde huffed out a laugh, but he didn’t look amused. “Why did you break that rookie’s jaw?”
Bucky tilted his head. “What’s the phrase? He fucked around and found out.”
You would’ve been proud of him for that reference.
Steve shook his head when Sam burst out laughing a few feet away. “Sam, please,” he begged, though his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile. “What did the guy do?”
A bitter taste flooded Bucky’s mouth as anger coursed through his veins again. He inhaled as he thought of your sweet smile and soft touch before he exhaled, the storm inside of him calming.
“Buck, you gotta tell us something,” Steve urged, needing some sort of information to try and do some damage control.
The brunette straightened up to look his friend in the eyes, wanting him to see the fury beneath the cold mask. “He told my girl to throw an apron on and get back in the kitchen when she went to spar.”
You, one of the most capable agents Bucky had ever known.
You, who had shown nothing but kindness to everyone, even when they didn’t deserve it.
The person Bucky was lucky enough to call his other half. His better half.
And some asshole rookie had the gall to treat you as if you didn’t belong there with the rest of them.
Sam was no longer laughing. Steve’s jaw clenched in understanding.
Bucky swallowed, that fury threatening to surface again as he remembered the hurt that filled your eyes at the comment. “You know I’d support anything she wants to do, whether that’s working or staying at home. It doesn’t give some prick the right to make her feel bad for her decision.”
“You know I don’t like bullies, but breaking his jaw?” Steve questioned. The guy deserved it, but did the punishment actually fit the crime?
“When she walked away, he said to come back when she was ready to see what a real man could do for her,” he said, the words coming out like a snarl.
The way you tensed up, fear and disgust flickering on your face, he didn’t think. A switch inside of him went off and he swung.
The fucker was lucky that all he got was a broken jaw. He could’ve done so much worse.
And it wasn’t that you couldn’t defend yourself because you could, but you shouldn’t have to put up with garbage like that.
A cracking sound echoed in the room before he realized he crushed the armrest of his seat. “Fuck. I’ll pay for that,” he mumbled, kicking a bit of the broken piece with his boot. “Can you just tell me how much trouble I’m in so I can get back to my girl?”
He didn’t care if he they suspended or even fired him as long as he got back to you.
The room stayed silent before Sam mused, “Technically, what the rookie did counts as harassment.”
Steve nodded. “And I’m sure Nat can persuade him not to sue for the injury he received,” he added, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’ll take care of it, Buck. Just. No more breaking jaws, okay?”
“When it comes to my girl, I make no promises,” Bucky smiled, his heart racing at the thought of you. “And maybe he’ll think twice before he opens his mouth again.”
“The damage you did, I don’t think he can open his mouth at all,” Sam mumbled.
Bucky’s phone went off before he could comment, his heart swelling as he read your text. He had to bite back a groan, too.
“Thank you again, Jawbreaker. I love you and I’ll be on my knees waiting for you.”
You wanted to thank him not just with words, but with your body and heart. It all belonged to him, like he belonged to you.
And he didn’t need to tell Steve and Sam what the message said since it was just for the two of you. “Love you, too, baby. Nothing to thank me for, but I’m on my way. Be ready.”
“Yes, Sir.”
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Maybe we'll see how you "thank" Bucky down the road. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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namedaftercommunists · 3 months ago
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'Promise? Pt. 2' Daisuke (Mouthwashing) X Reader
[Story takes place after he boarded the Tulpa] [Angst] [Platonic and-or Romantic] [Gender Neutral Reader] [Mentions of Suicide] “Hey.” A voice calls out, slowly rousing you awake, your eyes are heavy -as if they weren’t actually open.
“Wakey -wakey.” The voice calls out again, the hand petting your hair slowly registering on your mind. With a small turn to lie on your back, you’re greeted with the familiar beauty mark-laden face of Daisuke a boyish grin on his face as he looks down on you.
“Mornin’” He jokingly greets with a small chuckle -the open, chilly night sky right behind him. It’s a shame the city lights drowned out the twinkling stars above.
You let out a tired groan at this -burying your face in his lap again, making Daisuke pout as you try to undo his progress in waking you up.
“Oh come on.” Daisuke half-heartedly complains before turning you on your back again. “My legs are asleep -get up.” He whines out a complaint.
You only feign deafness to this though, and it isn’t until he takes off the jacket you drape yourself with do you let out your own whine of complaint - the air pricks at your skin.
“Put it back.” You groan out -too stubborn to take your head off his lap. “Get up.” He repeats with an exasperated tone before threatening to push you off to the rooftop pavement below you with a soft shove.
This finally gets you to move, but not without grumbling your complaints under your breath. He only chuckles at this.
“Your hair is a mess.” Daisuke comments with a laugh, before taming your hair with hands. “Like you didn’t make this mess in the first place.” You say with a scoff and a tired roll of your eyes, knowing full well it’s his petting that got your hair sticking out all over in the first place.
“Give me back my jacket.” You grumble out, snatching the jersey off his shoulder. “‘Your’ jacket?” Daisuke parrots back with a knowing, boyish grin.
“Technically mine. I wear it more than you do.” You say with a cheeky shrug and grin, wearing his old jersey -only a size too big on you. If anything -it just added to the look you were going for.
“Sure it is.” Daisuke sarcastically says with his own chuckle, the feeling on his legs coming back as you sit beside him on the rooftop.
There’s a short comfortable silence between you two -as you both look at the city ‘view’. There’s not much to see really, just the side of other buildings with advertisement boards and flyers pasted over the aging concrete walls. It’s a view you both had long familiarized yourself with and grew to see change over the years.
“I missed you,” Daisuke says, his voice soft as he leans his side to yours. To say you’re confused by this is an understatement. You just saw each other yesterday, right?
For some reason though, you can’t physically bring yourself to ask what he means by that. So you stay silent, leaning back on his slightly taller frame.
That’s weird -why does he feel thinner? You were sure he gained a fair bit of muscle over the years -not lose them.
“Like, I missed you....a lot.” He continues -his hand now slowly creeping up to intertwine with yours. It was cold, his hand was cold. Colder than it should be -even with the chilly night air pricking the both of you.
Something in your gut tells you to not look back at him -to continue looking at the aging city walls and dim city light in front of you. To keep your eyes ahead, and not on Daisuke. Not on the man you basically grew up with. He seems to breathe a sigh of relief at this.
“You were right.” He says once more, and it sounds as though his voice is slowly getting drowned out by the noise of city engines and machinery from below.
Finally, you will your mouth to move and have your voice cut through the air. “About what?” You ask, confused, your hand tightening around his. It feels bonier.
Dread creeps up your spine.
“About me dying up there.”
~
“I told you.” You barely croak out, the words heavy, cracked, and hoarse from all the crying you’ve been doing this week. Your body feels weak. It's a miracle you managed to get up from bed, dress yourself, and even stand right now.
Your mouth reeks of tobacco -and it tastes like it too. You’ve long since gone back to smoking real cigarettes. There’s no one to nag you about it anymore -so what’s the point in sucking on a cleaner alternative when you can get the real thing.
You can’t bring yourself to look down on what you’re holding onto, the hand in yours is bony, cold, and lifeless.
There’s a picture of a younger Daisuke on top of the casket glass. It’s a picture his parents vehemently hated before -despite it being his formal graduation photo.
Daiuke’s cap was tilted, and the tassel was already moved to the other side. He sported an outgrown mullet in the picture -it’s a look he liked but you found stupid. His next haircut was better -at least, by your standards.
Despite his parents hating the picture from before, they can’t help but feel it encapsulated -him- best.
They didn’t want to put up the picture of him in the suit he wore to his aunt’s wedding -looking uncomfortable and out of his element despite looking formal and proper.
You can’t help but agree with the decision.
“Am I being selfish?” You softly ask, and no one answers.
“I don’t want to look at you.” You continue, still holding onto the bony hand you only found by softly patting around the cushion of his casket.
“I don’t want to look at you.” You repeat with a choked sob -tears pricking at your eyes, a familiar feeling now.
From what the other guests, his parents, and yours said -you know it’s not a pretty sight. Not that a dead person was ever pretty to look at.
You know he’s lost weight, that much is obvious with how the bones of his knuckles were protruding from his hand. He barely had any meat, his body was reduced to that of skin and bones.
You didn’t know anything more -not that you want to. You walked away the moment you heard anyone start to describe his body.
You didn’t want to look down. To look down at who is -was- essentially your best friend, your other half, and see something -someone- you don’t recognize.
You were selfish. You wanted to remember him as the cute boy you grew up with all this time, with that lopsided grin and warm brown eyes looking into yours -skin pink and warm with life, with beauty marks on his face that you almost always stared at.
You didn’t want to see him for the dead body that he is now. The last thing you wanted was to replace the image of smiling, laughing Daisuke with the image of his corpse.
“They’re going to bury you in a bit.” You say, and again, no one answers.
“I got you some things to entertain yourself with.” You continue, slipping a catalog of the latest game releases, his vintage mp3 player, headphones, and finally -the notebook you’ve been writing on every day he was up in the Tulpa- next to him.
It’s a thick, bulky notebook -you never seemed to get enough of writing on its pages, not wanting Daisuke to miss out on any details, no matter how small.
“I’m still halfway through yours.” You admit, still rubbing your thumb on the bone of his knuckles.
“I’ll visit your senior sometime. He’s getting buried a few cities away from here.” You say, regarding the bulky, grumpy mechanic -Swansea- he almost always wrote nicely about.
A short silence deafens you, before finally, the dam in your eyes erupts -tears staining your face once more.
“I hope I get to see you again.” You choke out, holding onto his hand so desperately, as if you could squeeze back some warmth, some life, back into his body.
“I -really- hope I get to see you again.” You repeat, hiccuping, and your breath laboring.
“I don't care where or how, but I need to beat you black and blue --for getting on that ship.” You say with a cracked laugh, your breath getting caught in between each sob you let out.
“--for leaving me behind.” You finally cry out, forced to lean on the white casket you had the misfortune and privilege of decorating -per the request of his parents.
You’re allotted a few more moments with him before you’re finally ushered away by your father, the sound of Daisuke’s mother wailing and crying in his casket replacing yours.
It’s cold out, and Daisuke’s ship diary weighs heavily in your coat pocket -but so does the gun on your side. It’s anybody’s guess which one you’ll grab for in your bedroom tonight.
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reidmotif · 1 year ago
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"Technically" Not A Student
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Summary: Reader is Alex Blake’s TA, and after a guest lecture, Spencer seems to take a liking to her .
Prompt:You’re Alex Blake’s TA when a Dr. Reid comes to guest lecture. Things get heated quickly when you're alone.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: Reader POV, guestlecturer!Spencer , age gap (roughly 10 years), car sex, heavy making out, unprotected sex, slight female masturbation, Spencer is smart and that's HOT, heavy sexual tension
Word Count: 5.1k
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Being asked to be Alex Blake’s TA was the opportunity of a lifetime, and when it was presented to me as a first-year graduate student at Georgetown, I took it eagerly and never looked back. 
She had personally approached me after I’d finished a semester in her forensic linguistics class as a freshman, and commended me on my dedication to the material and my general work ethic, and then inquired if I’d ever consider filling out an application as her teaching assistant starting the next semester. 
I immediately agreed. It was a no-brainer. Blake was a seasoned professional in the career field I wished to enter, not to mention she’d been one of the best professors I’d had whilst taking classes at Georgetown. Knowing I’d be working so closely with her absolutely thrilled me. It provided opportunities I'd have never gotten otherwise.
For example, getting to sit in on the class the famed Spencer Reid would be lecturing on. 
She usually kept me quite busy, having me develop assignments and quizzes for her class when she had other responsibilities to attend to. I’d heard horror stories from other TA’s in which their supervisors would delegate ninety-nine percent of the work to their juniors, having them essentially teach the class for minimal recognition or pay. Blake wasn’t like that, and I was thankful. This time around though, she had very different instructions for me.
“You don’t need to prepare any material this time around.” Blake explained to me, and I nodded, listening diligently. “I’d just like you to sit in, and possibly take notes, as you see fit.” She added, and I flashed a polite smile, nodding. 
“No problem whatsoever. I’ll sit in the back so as to not bother any students as I do.” I replied, offering her as much convenience as I could within my actions.  
Secretly, I did want to catch more than a glimpse from the back of the room. I wanted to experience the esteemed colleague Blake had often spoken of with incredible fondness. I was aware he was slightly older than I was, and a bit socially inept from the way she described him in his stories, but I was also aware the man was a goddamn genius. She’d describe in precision the way Reid would pick up on patterns and leads faster than anyone else on the team, and his immense knowledge in multiple fields beyond criminal profiling. When she’d told me he had three pHDs, I had to hold back a gasp. I hadn’t even started my own doctorate, but the idea only exhausted me- and he had three?! Color me impressed. 
Blake, being as brilliant as she did, could sense the hidden enthusiasm in my eyes in meeting this man. 
“Honestly, I’d rather you sit in the front. If you’re taking notes for any student unable to attend, it’s more imperative that you know the contents of the lecture, rather than anyone else.” She said, smiling kindly. 
“That’s absolutely alright with me.” I say, even quicker than before, nodding, thoughtfully. In reality, the only thing I was thinking about was how close I’d be near the man. I had no idea what he looked like, what he sounded like, but something about him made my stomach flutter. 
“I’m sure Dr. Reid would be interested in meeting you, as well. He takes special interest in anyone pursuing our line of work.” Blake added. She didn’t mean for it to happen, but the words made my cheeks light up with a hint of embarrassment.
I don’t know why, but he intimidated the hell out of me. The idea of him taking interest in a conversation with me made my heart beat slightly faster, and I nodded. I tried to convince myself that my nerves came from a purely professional standpoint, but regardless of my intentions, I was absolutely exhilarated by our imminent meeting.
While I knew there'd be initial awkwardness when I'd meet him, given my idolization of the man, I didn’t account for how terrible it’d actually be when I realized how fucking attractive he was. It was almost unfair. I was already tripping over the words I planned on saying in my head, and now he looked like that?
It was cruel.
The soft, doe eyes paired with sharp cheekbones. The slope of his nose, and the mess of brown curls atop his head. Every word out of his mouth was made even prettier by the soft curve and pinkness of his lips, and I found myself wanting to lunge over the table and kiss the hell out of him.
Needless to say, not the right thoughts to have about your professor’s (older) coworker. 
 While I was initially going to introduce myself to Dr. Reid before his lecture, hopefully establishing myself as a serious individual regarding my studies and eventual career, I shied away, opting for Blake to introduce me instead, nodding politely when he made eye contact with me, exchanging a quiet “hello” and taking my seat in the front.
That was it. And probably how it should be, considering I genuinely couldn’t think straight around him. Students began filtering in, and I took my spot at the front of the room, crossing my legs and beginning to outline his lecture as he began to speak. 
He was a brilliant lecturer, and it was honestly criminal he didn’t do this for a living. He gesticulated wildly throughout the whole of it, but every word of his was punctuated with a genuine passion that even some of the best professors on campus lacked. I did my best to diligently keep up with every point he brought up, but with how fast he spoke, it was difficult. Still, an effort was made. 
If that wasn’t enough to deal with, I swear the man kept making eye contact with me for the duration of his lecture. At first I believed I was imagining it, that his eyes kept drifting to mine by coincidence, but by the third time, I’d realized that everytime my eyes left his figure to scribble something, I’d look up to see his dark eyes boring into my soul, almost as if he was trying to solve me with a glance. It was intense and made my stomach turn in a way which wasn’t entirely unpleasurable, but I forced myself to remain professional.
 Blake did not need to see me absolutely lusting after her coworker, even if he was utterly fit. 
Anyway, he was probably only making eye contact considering I was in the front, and probably in an optimal spot for his eyes to focus on whilst addressing the whole of the class. Still, the way his gaze was trained on mine, reaching the deepest parts of my soul didn’t help the growing heat between my legs. 
I forced myself to focus on the board, my notes, anything but those godforsaken eyes for the rest of the lecture. Anytime we made eye contact afterwards, I’d quickly look down, like I’d been caught doing something terrible. 
Was anyone else seeing this? Was I insane and made delusional by my unexpected attraction to this man? Was he seriously making me wet just by looking at me? 
Yes. 
Sooner than anyone wanted, the lecture period had completed and Dr. Reid was finishing up. The students were absolutely enamored, especially the girls, as expected. Of course it wouldn’t be just me who’d noticed that in addition to being accomplished in his intelligence, he was also ridiculously easy on the eyes.
Blake stood in the corner, watching her students vacate the space, while some held back to talk to Dr. Reid as he packed his things. He seemed a bit shy at all the attention, but didn’t hesitate in explaining concepts to seemingly eager students, giving them all a soft, shy smile. 
God help me, he was adorable. How was I falling for a man I’d never even spoken a word to? 
I’d never left the classroom before Blake did, so as she stayed, I did as well, until the three of us were the only ones left in the room.  Blake smiled, walking up to Dr. Reid with her hands in her pocket. 
“You worked up quite the fanbase, Reid.” Blake said, a little playful.
Reid replied somewhat bashfully. “You have a great bunch of students.” He flashed a small smile at her as they spoke, still packing up his things. 
 The dynamic between my superior and the man was obviously sweet. They almost looked familial, which made sense. Blake had commented here and there that she managed to spend more time with the BAU with her actual family. I’m sure the latter was the same for Spencer. He probably had a doting girlfriend at home, ready to welcome him in her arms and I mentally kicked myself again for being so attracted to him.
He was nearly ten years older, for god’s sake! Enough! I screamed at myself. 
 I was brought out quite suddenly from my thoughts when Blake spoke in my direction. “This is (Y/N), my teaching assistant.” Reid came in my direction as I got up and approached him, offering a hand to me. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. Blake told me who you were, but we weren’t properly introduced.” 
I gave a firm shake to his hand, which I noticed was calloused and smooth at the same time. God, even his hands were pretty. He had long, slender fingers with short-kept nails. They were veiny, and looked strong. I couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel like inside of me, buried in the heat of my core as I begged him for more.. more.. 
I forced the thought out of my head, only nodding again at the handsome man. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.” I say, forcing myself to be professional.
Stop thinking about fucking him! 
“Spencer works just fine.” He says, imparting a kind smile that nearly made my knees weak. Did he have any idea the embarrassing effect he was having on me? 
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blake looking at the two of us with a bit of a strange expression on her face. I let go of his hand and took a step back. Oh god. Could she tell? If she could, she said nothing. She gave us both a kind smile, before grabbing her own things.
“(Y/N)?” She called out, starting to walk to the door. “Mind locking up for me tonight?” She said, already throwing her keys to me. 
“That’s fine by me.” I say, grabbing her keys mid-air. I was used to this. Blake often wanted to leave a bit quicker than I did, and I was more than happy to assist in any way possible. What I didn’t realize, was that this left me and Spencer in the room alone, something I wanted to avoid, considering how fucking awkward this man was rendering me with so much as a glance at me.
I heard Blake leave, and as she quietly closed the door behind her, I leaned against a desk, keeping my eyes down as Spencer continued to pack his own things. I tried to not let my gaze drift to him, as I waited for him to finish up. 
I let my thoughts wander to the lecture, and couldn’t shake the feeling he’d evoked in me when he looked at me like that. This was honestly ridiculous. The man had barely spoken ten words to me, and here I was, absolutely mooning over him. It was a new low for me, but in my defense being a graduate student meant I didn’t have much time to get my .. needs fulfilled.
“That’s why” I convinced myself. I just hadn’t gotten laid in a really long time. Nothing more, nothing less. 
“So, you’re a criminology student?” Spencer says, suddenly, breaking me out of my trance. 
I looked up, nodding. I responded on pure habit and instinct. ‘Yes, I’m in the process of getting my Masters in Criminology.” I said, nearly robotic. 
“That must be interesting.” Spencer replied, flashing me a sweet smile that caused an entirely new slew of butterflies to erupt in my stomach. “I never studied criminology specifically, but the classes I took interested me.” 
“Blake told me you had three pHDs.” I acknowledged, trying to return his smile, but in all honesty, I probably looked like an idiot. I was nervous as hell, and hoped he couldn’t tell. It wasn’t my fault. He was awe-causing. A sight to behold, if you will, in intelligence and appearance. 
He laughed good naturedly, “Yeah. Three.” He must’ve noticed the stars in my eyes, because he continues. “As well as a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology and Sociology. And I’m working on another in Philosophy.” He finishes with a smug, boyish type of smile. 
What was previously stars in my eyes, was now full blown shock all over my face. “Wow, Spencer.” I said, a little dumb-struck. “That’s.. a lot.” I add, a little stupidly, giving him a little laugh. 
He sweetly scratched his neck, revealing his self-consciousness. “Yeah? You think?” He says, a small smirk in his voice, and I laughed again. “You think I should stop after Philosophy?” 
“Totally. Save some knowledge for us.” I teased. It was comfortable. He was surprisingly easy to get used to. He was affable, despite how daunting his knowledge was. 
“Hey, you try graduating before you’re a teenager.” He defends himself, playfully. “Not much to do, really.” 
I laugh. “I don’t know.” I say, throwing my hands up a little. “Play ball? Run around?” I joke, and he makes a face at that, scrunching up his nose. 
“Not my thing.” He replies, smoothly, and I laugh. 
“Alright, fine. Keep your degrees doctor man.” And he laughs at my joke. Like, a real laugh. I didn’t even find my own rhetoric particularly humorous, but knowing that I’d gotten him to react like that made my cheeks glow. 
He finished packing the last of his things and slung his satchel bag over himself, starting to walk over to the door. I made sure to gather all my things, and walked to the door with him. He held it open for me, and I nodded my head in thanks, and he let it shut behind us. I turned around to lock it, using Blake’s keys and placing them in my bag securely, before looking at him. 
“Well, Spencer. It was nice meeting you, thank you for the lecture it was-” I start, but he interrupts me. 
“Can I walk you to your car?” He interjected, looking a little shy as he did. I smiled a little confusedly, wondering why he’d want to do so, but I gave him my answer, nonetheless. 
“I don’t have a car. I usually take the bus back to my apartment.” I explained, smiling softly. 
“The bus?” He says,  quirking his mouth to the side. “Isn’t it a bit late for that?” He replies, a hint of concern in his voice. 
I gave a little sigh, “I mean, it’s fine.” I say, trying to laugh a little. “I’ve done it before.” I add, attempting to ease the worry out of his voice. “It’s not that late.” I say, but he simply shakes his head. 
“No way.” He says, still adamant on this. “I.. I can drive you home, if you’d like?” He says, his words going slightly on the higher pitch as he rolled out his proposal, and I gave a small grin at that. 
“Really? If it’s a hassle I can seriously just take the bus. I wouldn’t want you to keep anyone waiting at home or-” 
He interjects again. “No hassle. I promise. I want to.” He pauses, before adding, “No one at home. You’re probably going to be the last person I see today.” He seems to blush at his final admission, and my eyes widen in interest. No girlfriend? Score. 
“Alright, Spencer.” I say, smiling again. “Lead the way.” 
He led me to his car, an old-fashioned Volvo and I couldn’t help myself from gawking at it.
“God, you have a cool car too? Is there anything about you that isn’t interesting?” I say, aware I was probably stroking his ego a bit, but honestly I wanted to. The man was just so damn intriguing, and every new bit of information I learned about him only made me want to unravel the whole of him. To truly know him, in and out. 
He laughed, using his keys to manually unlock the door. “Oh, trust me. I’m plenty boring. The car is probably my only saving grace.” He joked, and I laughed again as I got into the car. 
“Oh, I highly doubt that, but if you say so.” I say, sweetly, and adding a light tone of flirtatiousness in my tone. He seems to blush at this again, and I begin to think about the events of day. The stares in class, the perpetual rosy tint on his cheeks that had been there since we began our conversation, the way he joked and laughed at my (admittedly, unfunny) jokes. 
Oh god. Did he like me? 
Only one way to find out. 
As Spencer got in the car and began driving onto the main road, I looked at him, trying to put on my best, innocent smile. “So, you said you’re not going home to anyone?” I say, a softness to my tone, but an undeniable hunger in it as well. 
“Uh.” He responds, that damned blush coming on, strong. “Yes.” He replies, nodding as he keeps his eyes on the road. 
“So, you don’t have a girlfriend?” I ask, a bit forwardly. 
Now he’s really blushing, stuttering a bit. “Oh, no. No girlfriend. Not much time, given the BAU and our schedule.” He said, almost clinically, and I nodded. 
“I mean, Blake has a husband.” I point out, a little smugly. 
“I guess.” He says, sighing a bit. “But, you know.” He says. He vaguely gestures to himself, and I look at him a little confused, tilting my head at him.
“Spencer, I have no idea what you’re trying to say.” I say, with a little giggle. “But trust me, you’re absolutely gorgeous.” I continue, before I can stop myself.
He looks at me, giving me a soft smirk, and a raise of his eyebrows. He didn’t look uncomfortable, and honestly looked just as thrilled as I did, and I knew that this night had a good chance of going the way I wanted it too. 
“Ah, you’re sweet.” Spencer replies, “But no. I just mean, I’m.. me. You know?” He says, trying to explain his (non-existent) shortcomings, but I just shake my head. 
“You don’t give yourself much credit, you know?” I attempt to say with that amorous tone from before, but it was more overcome with genuine respect and admiration. “You’re smart, funny and nice to be around, I mean.” I pause. “Did you not see the absolute crowd of girls around you after the lecture? Trust me, Spencer. I bet you’re more than easy to be with, even easier to like.” The words rush out of me, and I watch him tentatively for his reaction to my words. 
Instead of the sweet side smile he’d been offering me all night, he finally looked at me. The car had come to a stop at a red light, and his face was dangerously sexy as it was illuminated by the colored glow around us. 
“And what do you think?” Spencer says, in a low tone, making direct eye contact with me. 
I feel my stomach turn at the sudden directness in his words, his gaze nearly devouring me whole. I felt my mouth go dry and I swallow, trying to keep my tone steady. 
“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice having a slight shake to it. 
“I mean, what do you think about me? Do you.. like me?” He says, licking his lips slightly, and the action causes the previous heat between my legs to come by in full force. 
“Oh, I mean.” I say, my previous confidence dissipating in an instant. “Well, yes, Dr. Reid. Everyone liked you today.” I say, trying to give more of a conservative answer now.
The man had a way of making me feel totally comfortable around him, and then flipping the switches, rendering me dumb and stuttering. Like I was now. 
“Oh, so I’m Doctor Reid now.” He says, clicking his tongue and saying the words with an air of lighthearted teasing, but I only bit my lip, hurriedly trying to explain myself. 
“I mean, it's your title.” I say, quickly, trying to justify myself. “I mean, you said it yourself- three pHDs. It’d be pretty shitty to just discard the years taken to achieve that. Um. Well. You’re a genius so probably not as long, but still! Calling you doctor is a sign of respect for your accomplishments and-”
“You're cute.” He interrupts, and I look back at him to see his eyes back on the road, a cocky smile plastered on his face.
The light around us turned green, and he started the car. I picked at my nails slightly, trying not to display any more signs of nervousness around him. I wanted to do something with him, at least, and that couldn't happen if I was a bumbling mess.
We drove in relative silence for the next few minutes, as I tried to gather my thoughts and possibly continue what we’d been building up to these past few hours, but a quick glance at the windows and the road we were on caused me to furrow my brows.
“Oh, this isn’t the way to my apartment.” I remark absentmindedly, looking at the window beside me, then in front. “I live near the train station, off east?” I offer, expecting him to fully make a turn back towards the direction I’d prompted him towards, but he didn’t even flinch, continuing on the more secluded road we’d entered.
“I know.” He said, glancing at me once more, actually applying more pressure to the gas pedal, causing us to go faster down the terrain. 
Okay, fuck. He was an FBI agent, so I didn’t have to worry about him murdering me, right? Wait, no, that’s stupid. He could probably get away with it. No! He’s Blake’s friend. Her coworker. For the goddamn FBI. He wouldn’t murder me. What the fuck was going on? 
I watched as Spencer pulled off to the side of the road, darkness surrounding us entirely. There weren't any other cars around, and it was silent in the car before I bit my lip, and started to speak.
“Did I.. offend you?” I ask, cautiously. No reply. I try again. “Why did we stop?” I add, trying to test the waters with him to see what he was thinking at that moment. 
“I thought I could wait before we got to your place, but I need to know now.” He replied, a sudden urgency in his voice. He turned towards me, watching me with a dark, intense gaze, similar to the one he'd given me in class that day. “Do you want me? Am I reading this wrong with you? Because if I am, we can completely forget it and I can drop you home but (Y/N)..” He paused. He made direct eye contact with me and once again I found myself wanting to swim in those dark eyes of his. “I want you.” He said, his voice low and raspy. 
I didn't give it much thought as I gave into my urges and surged towards his lips the best I could in the car. He responded immediately, bringing me closer with his hands and placing them on either side of my face, moving his lips against mine in a perfected rhythm. I used my fingers to quickly undo my belt, before climbing over the console to sit in his lap, getting closer without our lips disconnected once. He understood my actions and intentions immediately, pulling the seat back so I could rest more comfortably in his lap as we continued to kiss. 
I knotted my hands in his hair, giving an experimental tug which elicited a low moan from his mouth. I grinned against his lips and his hands moved from my face to his hips, bringing my clothed core to rest right against his growing bulge, which I immediately moved against. He let out a sharp breath as I did and broke the kiss. 
“Oh god. I’m sorry.” He said, breathlessly, hands on my hips. “I don’t know what came over me and-” 
He looked almost frantic, and incredibly guilty, so I quickly leaned in for a peck, stopping him mid sentence. I brought my hands to his shoulders to rub them soothingly, and he seemed to relax in my touch. 
“Spencer, calm down.” I say, nearly purring. “I want this.” I continue, rubbing patterns into his arms now. “Please.” 
“You’re Blake’s student.” He murmurs, using one of his hands to run through already messy brown curls. “What am I doing?” He says, almost to himself, looking ready to stop our tryst. 
I realize he was attempting to backtrack from this, and before he could continue his train of thought, I quickly leaned in from my position on his lap to start kissing his neck, trailing wet hot kisses down the column before whispering. “I’m not her student.” 
He pulls away to look at me, biting his lip. “What?” 
“I was her student last semester. I’m her teaching assistant now.” I smirk a little, licking my lips. “Technically not a student of hers.” 
He seemed to take in my words for a moment, and then something in him shifted, and he lunged at me again, kissing me with even more ferocity. He absolutely devoured me, his hands everywhere at this point. Caressing my sides, in my hair, on the small of my back. He brought me closer to him in any way he could, pressing our bodies against each other in a frenzied manner that caused the wetness between my legs to increase tenfold. 
“Wanted you.. as soon as I saw you.” He murmurs against my lips as we caught our breath in between kisses. “Knew it was wrong but..” 
I nodded. I understood. I was the same. 
“Fuck.” I moaned, as I felt the bulge resting below me get even harder. “Spencer, please. Don’t make me wait.” 
“Impatient.” He remarked, smirking, now beginning his own line of kisses down my neck, making me moan in pleasure. 
“Please.” I breathed out, my words being reduced to a squeak as he bit my neck gently, and my eyes fluttered shut. I was melting right in his damn hands, just like he wanted. 
His hands started to work at the buttons on my jeans, and I sighed in relief, lifting up my hips to allow them to be tugged off, leaving me in my underwear. His slender fingers traced the seam, leaving me shuddering with pleasure for the man in front of me. I tried once more, breathlessly murmuring at him.
“Please. Please.” 
“Use your words, baby.” He whispered, a devilish smirk on his face. I was too far-gone to care about what I looked like. I needed him so badly. 
“I need you to fuck me, now.” I say, clearer. “I need it, Spencer.” 
Something about me using his name, nearly moaning for the man when he’d barely touched me stirred something in him, and he started to undo his own slacks, freeing his cock from the confines of his briefs. I watched in fascination as it sprung out, and took in a sharp breath of air. I licked my lips before making eye contact with him, begging for us to get on with it at this point. He nodded, understanding my desperation and I smiled dumbly, beginning to lift my hips. He guided his cock to my heat and placed his free hand on the small of my back, slowly guiding me down his member.
I moaned softly as I felt him enter me, providing me with the most delicious stretch. I threw my head back in pleasure as he brought both his hands to my hips urging me down. 
“That’s it. God, fuck. You feel so good.” He moaned, which only made me want to take more of him. I lowered myself down a bit faster, and he released a heavy groan as his hips met mine. I whimpered slightly, his length filling me up perfectly. A thin sheen of sweat had gathered on my brow and I leaned my forehead, adjusting to his size. 
“You good?” He breathed out, using his hand to brush a piece of hair that had stuck itself on my brow, and I nodded. 
“Yeah, just.” I took a deep breath, before licking my lips, looking up before nodding.
I slowly lifted myself off, letting the head of his arousal nestle in me before I slammed back down, eliciting moans from both of us. He began to match my movements in tandem, thrusting up into me wildly. I held onto his shoulders, burying myself in his neck as we went faster. I could feel his tip hitting my cervix every time, causing me to cry out with pleasure every single time. 
I felt my orgasm rapidly approach, and Spencer seemed to sense this as well, considering the involuntary clenches I was giving around his cock. He let his hand slip down to where our bodies met and rubbed tight, fast circles around my clit, encouraging my release. 
“Come on, pretty girl. Come all over my cock. You can do it.” He breathed out, watching my every move with a hunger I'd never experienced before.  
It took a few more thrusts from him, combined with the insistent fingers at my bundle of nerves before my thighs began shaking, and I let out a chorus of moans, most of them sounding like strangled versions of his name as I coated his cock in my wetness, spurring him on to go faster inside me, bucking into me like a man possessed. 
He continued to jut into me wildly, until I felt him finish inside me, coating my walls with his release. He breathed shakily, holding me close to him as I slumped over his shoulder, my chest heaving up and down as I came down from the intensity of the previous moment. 
He affectionately removed me from his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, the tenderness and gentleness in his actions contrary to what we had just done. I pulled back with a dazed smile, taking in how pretty he looked. 
“If it’s alright, I’d love to take you out for coffee sometime.” He said, still a bit breathless, and a shy smile appeared on his face.
I giggled. He was literally still inside me, and was asking me out on a date with a boyish nervousness that made him even harder to resist. 
“For you Dr Reid? Anything.” 
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ahh! writing this was a beast, and i imagined it to be longer but i got what i wanted in less words haha. i hope you guys liked this. any reblogs, comments, likes are so so appreciated i know it sounds totally stupid, but your guys' support means a lot lot lot!! thank you!!! <3
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woso-dreamzzz · 6 months ago
Text
Blood Sugar II
England Lionesses x Teen!Reader
Summary: You go on Bake Off
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"This time, on the Great Stand Up To Cancer Bake Off, it's Lioness time. Four of the England Lionesses brave the tent in the name of charity to tackle three challenges in the hope of securing, not the Euros trophy, but the star baker apron. This week's celebrities are: Leah Williamson, England captain and defender, Alessia Russo, goal scorer for England, Keira Walsh, England's midfield maestro and y/n l/n, England's youngest star."
You stand in front of your countertop, drumming your fingers against the wood as you look at all of the ingredients in front of you.
"Now, for your signature challenge, Paul and Prue would like you each to make a baker's dozen of sugar cookies," Noel Fielding says and you contemplate slamming your head onto the counter.
You knew agreeing to be on this was a bad idea.
"Each cookie must be hand-shaped," Alison Hammond continues," And made with love. You've got one hour. On your marks."
"Get set."
"Bake!"
"So," Leah says suddenly," Is this a good time to mention I don't know what a baker's dozen is?"
You've never really been a bigger baker. It wasn't really your speciality like a lot of other things like cooking your own meals and doing your own laundry.
There was also the added thing of the fact that no one in your family baked because you couldn't eat it. Well, you could, but it would send your sugar levels through the roof and you hated injecting more insulin than normal because it always stressed you out.
"Less!" You yell out," How much sugar is too much sugar?"
"I'm not helping you!" She yells back and you stick your tongue out at her.
"This is discrimination!" You declare as you start pouring your sugar in, hoping for the best.
The judges leave it ten minutes or so before they start walking around.
They got to Leah first, congratulating her on captaining the team to victory which she graciously waves off before getting way too competitive over a baking show.
Keira is next and it's hard not to be endeared by Keira, clearly the only sane person in the tent.
Alessia ends up accidentally breaking the electric mixer and tries to get everyone to ignore it by throwing a dish towel over it.
Then, it's your turn.
"So, y/n," Paul says," Do you have much experience with baking?"
"No," You reply.
"Did you prepare at all for this?"
"No."
"Do you have much hope you'll win?"
"What I'm hoping for is someone else does extremely badly so I don't come last."
Prue laughs. "Well that's honest of you. So, you have done no preparation at all?"
"I'm planning on just winging it," You admit," I'm diabetic so I don't really eat sugary things so I'm just hoping that they're edible."
"So you're not going to be tasting as you go?"
You eyes go wide. "Am I meant to do that?" You hand goes to cover your mouth. "No, are you joking? Am I meant to be doing that?"
The judges have a little laugh as they back away.
"Wait! Don't go! Am I meant to taste as I go?!"
Even though you don't taste as you go, you don't end up losing the challenge (not with plain tastebuds Leah Williamson in the running) but you don't win either.
Clearly, Keira's just good at everything.
The technical round is a disaster for everyone involved, even Keira and somehow, after burning her first set of fondant fancies, Alessia manages to win.
Leah continues to be the worst, which is what everyone expects so even though you don't taste anything, you're not the worst and, honestly, that's what you're aiming for.
You're here to provide the jokes and not to humiliate yourself on national tv and, you know, also to show that diabetics can bake too - not that you really knew that was a big issue until you signed up for this but apparently it is.
The only one that you actually practiced for was your showstopper.
'Your Biggest Triumph' was the theme and you'd had to practice for this one.
"Leah!" Keira shrieks suddenly and you whip your head around to see Leah with her hand in Keira's bowl of batter.
"I'm sorry Kei," Leah says, sounding not very sorry at all," But you're going to win if I don't sabotage you. I'm sure you understand."
You hold your breath as Keira's eyes dart towards Leah's bowl of unsupervised batter, leaping over the countertop to do the same.
"Wait, Kei! Keira, stop!"
Keira doesn't stop and you notice from the corner of your eyes Alessia moving as well.
You snatch your bowl up before she can grab it, sprinting to the other side of the tent.
Alessia follows you until you're backed up against the fridges.
"Less, Less!" You shriek, voice panicky as Leah and Keira wrestle at Leah's counter," Don't do this! You don't have to do this!"
"I'm sorry." Like Leah, Alessia doesn't sound sorry at all. "But it's for the greater good."
"Greater good! This is pure selfishness!"
"This is baking!"
"This is sabotage. Stay away from my bowl!"
"Come on. Don't make this hard than it needs to be."
An almighty crash sounds as Keira and Leah accidentally knock a mixer off the table and in the confusion, you manage to shove Alessia away to pour your batter into the pan.
The carnage continues throughout the time limit, only dampening when a truce is called so you can all decorate your cakes. Apart from that, it's a free-for-all as you find yourself standing on Leah's countertop, throwing wooden spoons at Keira and Alessia whenever they try to approach the pair of you.
"Alright, y/n," Prue says at the end of the time limit," Tell us about your greatest triumph."
"Okay." You point at the various decorations on your cake. "So this cake is a representation of my Dexcom. I know everyone else is choosing football stuff and all that but when I was six, I started feeling really bad. I couldn't focus and I was sweating and I couldn't really move well and I felt tired. It went on for a few days."
You point at one of the little marshmallow figures you made.
"I was playing in Alessia's garden with her and I threw up everywhere and she insisted on having her parents take me to the hospital. I'd developed DKA and was about an hour or so from going into a coma. The doctors ran tests and stuff and found that my pancreas had shut down. So, my biggest triumph was being diagnosed with diabetes."
You give a little shrug, pointing out the way you'd shaped your cake to look like your Dexcom and how on top you'd decorated it with marshmallow versions of you and Alessia and the doctor that you still went to get check-ups from.
"That's a lovely story, y/n," Paul says," But let's see if the actual cake tastes good. What kind is it?"
"Victoria Sponge because it's my mum's favourite."
Each judge takes a slice and you hold your breath.
Paul holds his hand out to you.
Your eyes go wide. "Are you serious?"
"Shake my hand."
You do that gleefully. Getting a Paul Hollywood handshakes means a lot.
"I mean, there's not much I can say," He says," The sponge is perfect. The filling is perfect. The flavours work well. The story to go with it is fantastic."
"And you never tasted any of it?" Prue asks and you shrug with a grin.
"I'm on a strict diet."
"Well...I mean if football doesn't work it then baking certainly will."
The Star Baker Apron you win at the end hangs up on your wall with your Euro's medal.
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the-moon-files · 5 months ago
Note
I’m not sure if I’ve said this one already or not, but I wanted to tell you anyways! It’s about the humans-are-not-hylians AU!
You know the uncanny valley evolution? That thing where when you look at something that resembles a living being too closely and some part of your mind is screaming that it’s not whatever it looks like and to get away from it? Imagine that with the reader! They can spot shapeshifters easily because of this, but it instills the same extreme primal fear we’d experience, so it might be hard for the reader to confront them at first and they’ll instead just tell the Chain for a while.
This might be a double edged sword, though, because when Twilight is in his wolf form, the reader still gets that same feeling when “Wolfie” is looking at them, whether or not they know it’s Twilight. In this case, the first time the reader spots Wolfie approaching the camp, they probably freak out and try to avoid him, even if the Links are okay with him or if he seems familiar to them.
The bottom line is that wolf isn’t a wolf, so what is he?
“It’s okay, he’s a really friendly wolf!”
“...That’s not a wolf...”
Sorry i took forever to respond!! im slow as always, life is too busy for even my hobbies lately sobs 😭
bro this is especially true bc someone looked back at TP games and how he looks in his “wolf” form, and apparently he is actually a dog lol - like at most a wolf-hybrid, i added this in to support this Hyrule-is-hella-Uncanny AU lol
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Moon: Guide! - Gender Neutral/Masc!Reader (”you”/he/him)
Orbit: Short headcanons
Stars: mentions of most of our Links <3
Comets & Meteors: CWs: typical LU/Loz violence, mild swearing, etc & TWs: mild possible derealization trigger, talk of Link’s Awakening and Koholint.
Please comment if I missed any. /gen
The Yiga clan members have never fooled you, not Once in person, unlike back when hyrule was still a video game
it was the constant smell of bananas, the way their eyes were always a little unfocused or they moved their head to move around their eyes, rather than their actual pupils moving, the facial muscles all stiff, usually stuck in an uncomfortable smile-
it makes more sense once u realize that they technically have a mask under that glamour hylian face, but its never not hilarious to see Wild look over his shoulder at you before approaching a lone traveler on the roads and watch him get increasingly frantic to get ur attention to see if theyre yiga lmao
u bet ur ass every link was relying on you on their adventures to know shapeshifters/illusions/glamours/etc. on sight and tell them to better prep them/warn them
tbh they all got at least a little better at being able to tell the difference the longer they heard you point out stuff/talk abt exactly why it was off-putting
(that said some of ur heroes are better at it than others, both in general, and certain aspects of it: like Twilight isn’t able to pick up illusions/glamours for the life of him, literally, sometimes, but he is more likely to figure out shapeshifters by scent after you Guided him)
(no, your heart didnt crack a little after learning that the boys had a harder time with deceit after you stopped playing the game = “were forced to leave after their adventure” bc while they were better at detecting it, they werent on ur human level yet..)
(…the only deception you ever really fell for was Koholint. It was so painful too, because Legend quietly disclosed to you one late night that you would constantly get strange feelings/uncanny disturbances, but were never able to put a name to it for him, which both made you jumpy/paranoid on the island, but made him regret ever letting his guard down all the more or feel guilty for what felt like dismissing ur instincts the more he relaxed… Legend never doubted your sense for the uncanny ever again. He takes it seriously every time now.
When you feel as if you should apologize, he tells u not to, that these days he takes comfort in it actually, it makes him feel safer. Legend looks to your face for confirmation that something isn’t a dream, and if you look at ease, so is he.)
its the way you casually laugh at Twi being called “Wolfie” when he’s obviously a wolf-dog hybrid or just a big dog
and when everyones confused u just explain smth smth, wolf heads are larger in comparison to their body, their legs are narrow, their paws are big, dogs are like the oppposite, or way more proportional like “Wolfie” is, dogs bob around when they run like “wolfie”, and have shorter legs,
smth smth wolves cant have eye colors like blue, only dogs/wolf-dog hybrids can silly-
and Wolfie is just like, 😐 😑 😐
turning around and walking away, bc hylias knotted fucking braid- he really cant escape the dog accusations now, you literally used ur freaky truth-seeing instinct and read his shapeshifter ass from head to literal toe/paw-
Wild/Hyrule look fascinated, Wind and Legend cant breath theyre laughing so hard, Time is coughing suspiciously into his fist and pops back up smirking, Four is laughing but also encouraging you to keep going, Sky is desperately trying to keep it together while also trying to get Twi to come back lmao, Wars is literally pointing and laughing ashkljdl-
ok but Twi gets his revenge later by tricking you into yapping abt how Hyrule/Four/Time all kind of look “off” sometimes too
like how u swear Rulie is glowing subtly when the moon is full, or how the world distorts behind his back sometimes,
or how Four’s eyes change colors all the time, his fighting style looks like its rotating between 4 diff ppl’s techniques,
or how Time’s face wrinkles like smile lines/crows feet at the corner of his eyes will randomly appear and disappear, how he’ll have some stubble one day then 3 days later despite having not shaven (u literally saw him wake up and do his morning routine) it’ll disappear like it was never there in the first place-
and when Twi has stopped asking you abt the others as they all reel over the knowledge of what all u can tell abt them,
(ur quietly relieved no one asked abt Wild.
You resolve urself to just lie if anyone asks, even to Wild himself.)
hey im alive!! im slow yknow how it is,
ive been doing too much, and i cant wait to be done with this class so i can have free time guilt free again 🥲
god thats one good thing abt getting out of academia i dont miss and would only wish on my worst enemy,
the anxiety of doing smth, even necessary stuff like eating/sleeping/showering, and feeling liek you should be doing homework instead, god its so awful
cant wait to feel like an adult with my own life again lmao
that certification better work and get me a white collar job goddamit 🤞
anyway, hope ur all having a good weekend,
and just to let u know, im so happy acc that im alive to see the first zelda game that actually follows what i originally thought the plot of zelda games was when i was a kid lmao
(zelda as the protag, saving link!!)
Peace out,
🌙
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slut4thebroken · 1 year ago
Text
Doctor’s Orders
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jonathan Crane x patient!reader
Summary | Jonathan Crane wears a weak dose of fear toxin as cologne to his appointments just to put his patients on edge. He’s particularly fond of how you react to it though.
Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, manipulation, inappropriate use of fear toxin, obvi, very dubious consent, painful sex, fearplay, HEAVY breeding kink, forced breeding, technically housewife kink?, overstimulation, abuse of power?, ionno lol.
Words | 3.3 k
Notes | Based on this post. Credit to @lasagnebats for the idea. (Lowkey the plot kind of deviated from the whole fear cologne thing tbh but it’s still very relevant so whatever lmao)
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
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It’s not mentioned in the actual story but it’s very important for the plot so incase you didn’t read the summary I’m going to say it again lol. He wears a weak dose of fear toxin as his cologne.
“How are you feeling today?” He asked as he walked in and sat down across from you, putting his briefcase at his feet. 
“Better.” You said with a small smile. After only a moment though, your heart started beating harder and faster, and your breathing picked up. You swallowed thickly and cleared your throat before adding, “I- I think.”
“You think?” His voice sent a shiver through your body. You weren’t sure if he was purposely trying to sound threatening, but that’s how you heard it. 
“I…” You couldn’t look at him as your stomach started churning. 
“Please look at me when I'm talking to you.” He sighed, making your gaze snap back to him. “We won’t get anywhere if you continue to overreact to even the simplest questions.” 
“I know— I know. I’m sorry.” You started bouncing your leg incessantly, trying to get rid of some of the nerves you were feeling. “H-how are you?” You asked in return to his original question. 
“Always so polite.” He said with an amused smile. “Why is that?”
“I don’t know… That’s just how I was raised I guess.” You shrugged, not having a better answer for him. 
“It has nothing to do with how terrified you are of upsetting me?” He asked curiously, tilting his head as he looked you up and down. 
“I- I’m not…” You cleared your throat and wiped your sweaty palms on your pants. “I was just… taught to respect people with more authority than me.” You said nervously. But it was true. You were always taught to show respect to people above you no matter what, especially if they were older than you. 
“I see. And you feel I have power over you right now?” 
“Yes.” You said quietly. Doesn’t he always?
“Well I don’t want you to fear me. These sessions are pointless if you can’t be completely open and honest with me.” You looked away from him again and swallowed the lump in your throat. “I promise you, nothing you say will upset me. I just want you to be truthful with me… So I can help you to the best of my ability. Do you understand?”
“Yes..” 
“Good.” He paused, seemingly coming up with the next topic of conversation. “You’re still having nightmares?” Your blood ran cold and your heart was almost starting to hurt with how hard it was beating. And all just because of a reminder of it. 
“Yes.” You whispered. 
“The same ones? Or something different.” 
“The same… But I noticed that they tend to happen more after our sessions than on days where I don’t see you…”
“Yes, that’d make sense. Since we talk about it, it’s only natural your brain would be thinking about it more.” 
“Right. Yeah— You’re right.” You said through a breath. 
“May I see your hand?” He suddenly asked, making you stiffen. 
“What?”
“Your hand.” He held out his own, waiting for you to place yours on top. With a shaky breath, you wiped your hand on your pants again, then placed it on his open palm. He turned it over so your palm was against his, then let out a quiet hum. Before you could ask what that meant, he grabbed your wrist and held your hand up, watching it tremble. He released you and you placed it back in your lap. 
“Why are you so scared?” 
“It… it's probably just because I started thinking about the nightmares.” That was the only explanation that made sense. It’s not like you’d be scared for no reason.
“Really? What were you thinking about?” You froze and looked away from him, trying to recall, but you never actually thought about them, more so just… remembered them. 
“I… I’m not sure.” You said absentmindedly, still trying to figure it out. He sighed quietly and took off his glasses, examining you closely. 
“I like to think that we’ve grown a bit closer since our first session. Wouldn’t you?” All you could do was nod wordlessly. “Almost like we’re more than just doctor and patient… Do you feel that way as well?” 
“I- I think so.” You said quietly. It was hard to tell right now. 
“Which is why I think we can try something that might work better for you.” He stood up and dragged his chair around the table, the loud screeching sound making you flinch. He sat down next to you and you waited nervously for what was next. 
“I think… if your brain is half focused on something else— something pleasurable…” he placed his hand on your thigh and leaned closer to you, “then you might be able to talk freely about what’s troubling you. What do you think?” Your chest was heaving as you stared at him with wide eyes, not able to respond. It felt like your throat was closing up and the speed at which your heart was beating made it feel like his hand was on your chest instead of your thigh, pushing down as hard as he could.       
“Is something wrong?” He asked once he noticed your reaction. 
“I-” You choked out, not able to say anything else. 
“Hm?” He waited, giving you a chance to respond. When you didn’t, he sighed. “As your doctor, if you’re in a state that leaves you unable to think or communicate clearly, it is my responsibility to do what I think is best.” His hand started snaking up your thigh, moving toward the center as it climbed higher. His touch was burning a trail on your skin and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. 
“Just relax. You want to actually make some progress, don’t you?” You gave him the tiniest nod, unable to do anything else. “Good girl. If you can control your emotions, then we can talk like civilized people, but for now, we’re going to have to try this.” You weren't even sure what exactly was making you feel this way, but you trusted Dr. Crane. He would only do what’s best for you. 
“Take off your pants.” He suddenly ordered, making your body go completely rigid. “I won’t repeat myself.” He warned and you immediately scrambled to take them off. Once they were on the floor, he grabbed your hips and guided you so that you were straddling his thighs, sitting on his lap. “Now, this might be a bit overwhelming for you, so I don’t mind if you need to keep your face buried against my chest or neck. Like this,” he gently grabbed the back of your head and pulled you into him, “see?” 
“Thank you.” You whispered, bringing your hands up the grab at his suit jacket. It felt like your entire body was trembling now. “Dr. Crane, I- I don’t feel very good.”
“Shh. Your body’s just excited. That’s why your heart is racing and your breathing is shallow.” He explained calmly. You’ve never felt this ‘excited’ before in your life. “Are you going to let me do my job now?” You nodded, burying your face into the crook of his neck to comfort yourself. “Thank you.” His hands started dragging up and down your thighs, just getting you used to his touch, but all it was doing was making you more anxious. His fingertips felt like claws on your hypersensitive body, but when you looked down, you saw no marks left behind. 
“I know you’re excited but you need to try and calm down.” He said calmly. “Take a deep breath through your nose, then out through your mouth.” You complied, though it wasn’t nearly as slow as he actually wanted. But it was an improvement. “Again. Deeper.” You inhaled again, trying to let the smell and warmth of his body soothe you. But it was like the deep breaths were making everything worse. 
“Dr. Crane, it’s not— I…” He sighed and your stomach churned when you realized he was disappointed in you. “No- I’m sorry. I’ll try again. I’ll keep trying.” You rushed out, taking more deep breaths. 
“That’s a good girl. Nice and slow.” His hands snaked up your thighs to your hips, then up the sides of your body, under your shirt. 
“W-what are you doing?” You choked out, when he dragged his hands up even more until he was touching your breasts. 
“Just feeling your heartbeat.” He explained. You gasped when he gently squeezed your breasts, groping them in a way that made your entire body feel hot. 
“Dr. Crane?” You whimpered and he shushed you. So you clung to his suit jacket and buried your face into the crook of his neck even more, seeking comfort. 
“I’ll need to remove your shirt. It’s obstructing my examination.” You hesitantly agreed and he pulled it over your head, then guided you back into the same position, now only in a pair of panties. “Deep breaths.” He reminded you as he continued. He only groped you for a few seconds before focusing his attention on your nipples. You let out a strangled moan when he gently pinched, rolling them between his fingers. You’ve never been overly sensitive there before, but right now, just the barest touch sent a shock through your body. 
“Your heart is racing.” He commented, flattening his hands on your chest and sliding them down your stomach. He reached your hips and gripped them tightly, then pulled them forward to grind your clothed heat on his bulge. You gasped at the sudden movement and when you felt the obvious sign of his arousal. 
“When’s the last time you’ve been fucked?” His tone remained the same; clinical, unemotional. It took you a moment to register his question, but once you did, a blush took over your face. “You’ve been a patient here for a few months now so I’m assuming at least a few months ago?” All the work you did to calm your breathing was gone in an instant. Words couldn’t form in your mouth, so you just nodded against his chest. “How long before that?” 
“I… I don’t remember.” You choked out, finally able to speak. 
“Poor thing. It’s been that long since you’ve been filled?” He cooed with faux sympathy. 
“Dr. Crane.” You sobbed, fisting his suit even tighter to ground yourself. He was still guiding your hips and you started to feel arousal pooling in your stomach. 
“Is that why you’re not making any progress? Your cunt’s been craving a cock so bad, you can’t even think?” You whined and started moving your hips on your own now, desperate for more. “Yeah I think that is the reason. You’re in your prime child bearing years, it’s only natural you’d be longing to breed.” You let out a strangled moan, feeling both humiliated and aroused by his words. “A few more sessions like this and you might actually be able to use that pretty little head of yours again.” 
“Please,” You whined, tears of desperation brimming in your eyes. Your heart was still pounding and your breathing was still shallow, but it started feeling different. Before, you weren’t sure what the cause was, but now you know it’s arousal. At least it mostly is. He suddenly gripped your chin and pulled your head so your face was only inches from his. As his eyes trailed all over your face, taking you in, he hummed in thought, still staring at you with his piercing gaze. 
“Misattribution of arousal truly is a fascinating subject.” He smiled. You had no idea what that meant. “Take off your underwear.” He suddenly ordered, making your eyes widen. When he stared at you, giving you a warning gaze, you scrambled off his lap to remove them. He started unbuckling his belt, then opening his pants. When he took out his cock, your breath caught in your throat. Where is that supposed to fit?
“Sit.” You tentatively got on his lap again. He sat back in the metal chair a little, dragging his eyes down your body. “Put it in.” You swallowed and looked between his face and his length, feeling your heart start pounding even harder. “Now.” Biting your trembling lip, you grabbed his cock and put it at the right angle, then slowly and apprehensively lowered yourself onto it. You whimpered when he first breached your opening, immediately feeling the burn of the stretch. 
“You won’t like it if I have to take over so I suggest you do better than this.” He warned and you whined in response, but forced yourself down lower. 
“It hurts, Dr. Crane.” You whimpered, hoping for sympathy from the cold, apathetic doctor. 
“Enough.” He growled, grabbing your hips and lifting you off of him. He stood and spun you around to push your torso onto the cold metal table with a hand on the back of your neck. Holding you down firmly, he pushed his cock back in, this time going all the way. You cried out and scrambled for purchase on the table as he immediately started thrusting. 
“W-wait, Dr. Crane..” You choked out, the burning stretch bringing tears to your eyes. Not bothering with replying, he removed the hand from your neck and you heard clothes rustling, then he was putting his tie between your lips and wrapping it around your head to secure it. Almost instantly those feelings flared up again. Your chest heaved as you panted, trying to ignore how much it was hurting from your heart beating so fast and hard. 
He put his hand on your head this time, forcing your cheek onto the cold metal as he held you down and started moving faster. You sobbed out a moan and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on calming down but everything was just so much. 
“Is this what you needed? Have you been playing the role of the dumb little patient this whole time just to get me to fuck you?” You tried to shake your head, but you couldn’t move it under his hand. “I can feel you pulsing around my cock. Is it really that good?” The way he was mocking you had you squeezing your thighs together, but he couldn’t have that. He lifted one of your legs and placed it on the table, keeping you from getting any real stimulation on your clit besides his balls smacking against it with every thrust. 
“Please!” You cried, the word being muffled by the tie. 
“I know. You’re probably so eager to come right now, aren’t you?” You did your best to nod, despite him holding you down. “Is the thought of finally getting bred making you all needy?” He asked condescendingly and you let out a strangled whimper. “Should I let you come on my cock?” 
“Yes!” You yelled, trying to make it sound coherent through the gag. He released your head and grabbed your shoulders, starting a brutal pace that made you almost scream from the intensity. The table was screeching against the floor with each thrust and you could start to hear his quiet grunts as he neared his orgasm.
“Go ahead then. Show me how needy this pathetic little cunt is for my cock.” He said and, despite the degrading words, you almost cried in relief. You’ve only made yourself come maybe a handful of times since being admitted to Arkham, so it did not take much longer for you to get there. You all but screamed around the gag when it hit you, making your legs turn to jelly. His thrusts didn’t even waiver, but you could hear groans coming from him. Wave after wave of pleasure washed through you, so intense that it bordered on painful. 
When it was finally done, you sagged into the table, but your body immediately went stiff when the overstimulation kicked in. You cried out and squirmed, trying to escape it, so he grabbed your hair and yanked you up, wrapping his other arm around your stomach. 
“I know.” He pulled your head back until it was resting on his shoulder, then turned it so your face was up against his neck. “Just breathe through it.” But you couldn’t. Everything was just too much. You sobbed loudly and buried your face in the crook of his neck as he fucked you, moving both hands down to grab your hips. 
“Just be a good girl and take it. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be fucked and bred like a bitch in heat.” You let out a strangled sob at the degrading words. “No… It’s what you needed.” He growled, making you whimper. “Don’t worry, we’re going to keep doing this until I finally fuck a baby into you. Maybe then you’ll be less cock hungry. But we’ll probably have to keep this up while you’re pregnant because of all the hormones.” After your orgasm, everything your body was going through started to feel like it was from fear again, rather than arousal. His words were making you spiral into overthinking. You can’t have a baby yet— you’re too young. And also there’s the fact that you’re in an asylum… 
“And I think… I might make you my little lab rat. You respond so well to such a small dose, I’m eager to see how you’ll react to something more potent.” Now you were truly confused, but you were also too fucked out and overstimulated to try and understand. “God— that’ll be a fucking sight.” He choked out, rutting into you more frantically. Tears started streaming down your cheeks as he kept fucking you, getting more painful with every thrust. But based on the way his sounds kept getting louder, you knew it’d be over any second now.  
You cried out when he roughly snapped his hips into you and stayed there, wrapping his arms around your torso to keep you close and letting out a low groan. His hips bucked forward with every spurt of come that left his cock, despite the fact that he was already completely inside, pressed up against your cervix uncomfortably. Even after his orgasm ended, he remained buried inside you, keeping you plugged up for now.  
“That’s better, isn’t it? Now you’re nice and full.” He spoke softly, turning his head to kiss your neck as his hand rubbed over your lower stomach. “Mm… I can’t wait to see your belly all big and round— your tits swollen with milk. You’re going to look so beautiful.” Even though everything calmed down, you still felt anxious and scared. “And I’m sure once that kid is out, you’ll go back to being a brainless little bitch in heat so I’ll have to fuck another one into you.” You let out a weak sound, unable to do anything else. Your whole body was shaking. With how you were currently feeling, his words sounded like a threat. 
“Still can’t use that pretty head?” He asked curiously. You didn’t answer, but it didn’t seem like he expected you to. “You must need more, then.” You whined at the thought. He gently pushed your torso back onto the table and you hissed in pain when he dragged his cock out. When his come trickled out, he cursed under his breath. Using his thumbs, he spread your puffy, abused folds, giving him a better view of your gaping hole. You flinched when he used his fingers to scoop up his come and push it back in. “Lucky for you, I cleared the rest of my schedule today just for this session, so I can keep giving you load after load until you drain my balls completely. Maybe then you’ll actually be able to fucking think.” 
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minniesmutt · 8 months ago
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☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮
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☾ ━━━ PAIRING: LEE KNOW X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: NON IDOL! AU, FEM!READER, CEO!READER, SECRETARY!LEE KNOW, OFFICE SEX, FOOD MENTIONS, ALCOHOL (WINE), FIRST-TIME RELATIONSHIP SEX, PET NAMES (KITTEN, KITTY), DIRTY TALK, DOM! LEE KNOW, SUB! READER, STRONG BOY LINO DOES CARRY READER, DADDY KINK, ORAL (F. REC), GROPING, SPIT, FINGERING, BEGGING, TEASING, PROTECTED SEX, PRAISE, FINGER SUCKING, ALLUDES TO MORE ROUNDS, ALLUDES TO AFTERCARE ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.6K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog
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     Minho wasn’t unaware that the women in his office stared at him like a piece of meat. He passed by them every day when he walked in and heard their whispers. They truly sucked at whispering. And even for such a large company, office gossip got around very quickly. 
     He always ignored them, he didn’t care what they thought about him. He just walked to his desk with two coffees, sat, and got to work. Checking over his boss’s schedules for the day and any notes left on his desk after he left last night. Ears perked up when he heard everyone else greeting their CEO when she walked in. He looked up from his computer as Y/n greeted her employees.
     “Morning Ms. L/n,” He greeted as he stood with her cup of coffee
     “Good morning Mr. Lee,” Y/n smiled and thanked him for the coffee, “Anything important on my schedule today?” 
     Minho grabbed his tablet and coffee, following her into her office, “Just a board meeting after lunch ma’am,” Minho said as he closed her office door behind him.
     “Alright,” Y/n sighed, setting her coffee and bag down on her desk, “Thank you Minho.” Y/n smiled
     Minho nodded and headed back to his desk. Busing himself answering emails and phone calls. It was the weekend so the office wasn’t super busy. Everyone mainly taking it easy till clock out time. Minho was happy the time was flying by today. 
     Around lunch, he heard his phone ping. He turned the screen on a saw a message
Y/n: free tonight?
     Minho smiled as he leaned back in his chair 
Minho: depends. Why are you asking? Y/n: just seeing if you want to come over to mine after we're off for dinner Minho: I’m free Y/n: see you after work then.  Minho: technically, I see you in a few minutes to go over your meeting material  Y/n: 🙄
     It was odd. Talking to his boss, and hiding it from the office. Though it was very easy for them to hide it. They were in their own little world most of the time. But he had some concerns at first. He knew HR would be on his ass if they found out. 
     If it wasn’t for Jisung and Felix setting them up on a blind date, he’d just be her secretary. And if he hadn’t convinced her that it was fine and that they were outside of work. Now almost a few months later they were doing alright. 
     “Hey, Minho!” One of the ladies in the office called. He looked up at her as he set his phone down. Truly, he didn’t know her name. 
     “Yeah?” he asked 
     “If you’re not busy tonight, would you want to grab some drinks with me?” She was so hopeful 
     “I already have plans for tonight,” Minho told her
     “Oh, that’s okay. Maybe another time?”
     “No thanks,” Minho stood up and grabbed his tablet and phone before standing up. 
     He didn’t say another word and headed to Y/n’s office. Knocking on the door before walking in.
      Y/n looked up from her computer as he shut the door, offering a smile as he took a seat with a sigh. 
     “You alright?” Y/n asked him
     “Fine,” Minho answered 
     Y/n got up and leaned against her desk in front of him, “Not asking as your boss.”
     “We’re at work,” he reminded her
     “In my office,” Y/n added
     “Just office stuff,” he told her, grabbing her hand and running his thumb over her knuckles, “Got asked out is all.”
     “Someone finally made a move out there?”
     “So you know about the office gossip.”
     “I like knowing things,” Y/n shrugged, “Back to work. We can talk about it more later.”
     Minho rolled his eyes and went over the details for her meeting then walked down to the room with her. Sitting and taking notes. Just doing his job while the meeting ran on. Barely recognizing the meeting had ended until the sound of chairs brought his attention back.
      He locked his tablet and let out a small sigh. Quietly standing from his chair.
     “Email me the meeting notes, would you Minho?” Y/n asked as she picked up her things. 
     “Yes. I’ll send them over as soon as I can,” Minho assured her as they made their way out of the meeting room to their respective desks.
     Working for the next few hours on little things. No company deadlines to meet this month which made everything easier. 
      Minho was about to wrap up for the day when his phone vibrated on the desk
Y/n: Rain check tonight? Minho: something come up? Y/n: Issue with one of the branch managers 🙄 HR wants me to hope on a Zoom meeting to talk about it Minho: that bad the CEO needs to hop on the call? Y/n: We’re still a pretty small company Min. It’s happened before  Minho: How about I cook tonight? Just come over once your meeting is over. Y/n: you cooked last time 😞 Minho: and you loved it so I'll cook again. it’s no big deal.  Y/n: are you sure? Minho: I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t Y/n: Okay. thank you min Minho: no problem. I’ll see you after your meeting 
     Minho packed up his stuff and checked on Y/n before leaving for the day. Making his way to the store to pick up a few ingredients before heading home. 
     Taking care of the groceries before hopping in the shower to wash the day off. Putting on a plain t-shirt and some sweats then walking into the kitchen. Putting on a playlist while he cooked. Getting a bit of a head start before Y/n knocked on his door. 
     Minho cleaned off his hands before answering the door. Finding Y/n behind the door, in more house clothes than her business suit she had on at work. 
     “How’d your meeting go?” He asked as she stepped inside.
     “Pain in my ass,” Y/n sighed 
     “That bad?” Minho asked as he closed the door
     “Lot of denying of what he was doing over at the branch and saying he’ll sue,” Y/n sighed as she slipped her shoes off
      “I’m sorry,” Minho sympathized and wrapped her up in his arms. 
     “Just my job,” Y/n sighed, wrapping her arms around him
     “Want some wine while I finish cooking?” he asked
     “Yes please.” 
     Minho led her into the kitchen and poured them both a glass of wine before he went back to cooking. Steering the conversation away from work for the rest of the night ending up on the couch together watching a movie. His arm wrapped around her as she leaned into him. 
     “Thank you for cooking again tonight,” Y/n told him. 
     “Any time,” Minho told her
     Y/n looked up at him and smiled. Minho smiled back and laid his forehead on hers. “Wanna stay the night?” he asked 
     “Want me to stay the night?”
     “Not admitting that.”
     “I’d love to stay the night,” Y/n laughed
     Minho smiled and pulled her closer to him. Y/n smiled and cupped his face in her hands.
     “Can I kiss you?” Minho asked after a moment of silence between them 
     “Thought I told you you didn’t need to ask,” Y/n said
     Minho leaned in, capturing her lips between his. Their lips moved in sync as his hand dropped from her shoulder to her waist. Pulling her just slightly closer to him. 
     Y/n swung her leg over his lap and pulled herself on top of him and he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to him. 
     Y/n pressed her lips back onto his as he kept a grip on her hips. Hands slipping down to her ass and grinding her against him. Y/n moaned into his mouth as her hands slipped into his hair, lightly tugging on the roots. 
     Minho ran his tongue over her bottom lip before pushing his tongue into her mouth. Y/n pushed her tongue against his, the two muscles dancing together between them before Y/n pulled away to catch her breath.
     Minho attached his lips to her neck, moving one hand from her ass to hold the back of her head. Tilting her head back a bit, allowing himself more room to work with. 
     “All mine,” Minho mumbled against her skin on instinct
     Y/n felt her body heat up as the words passed through her ears. There’d only been a few other times she and Minho had slept together but she’d never heard any possessiveness out of him— even though he warned her he was the possessive type. But the two little words did something to her. 
     “‘m yours,” Y/n moaned. 
     Y/n watched him pull back from her neck and looked up at her. “Yeah? My pretty kitten?” he smiled, watching her face flush ever so slightly 
     “Mhmm,” Y/n answered 
     “Be my girlfriend?” he asked, gently kissing the side of her neck 
     “Yes,” Y/n answered before he pulled her back down to his lips. His tongue found its place in her mouth again. 
     Y/n moaned into his mouth as his hands crept up her shirt. His warm hands gave her goosebumps. Y/n tipped his head back a bit, deepening the kiss. Minho smiled and dipped his fingers under the band of her bra before he pulled back from her lips to attach them to her neck again. 
     Y/n let out a soft moan as he gently sucked on the skin below her ear. Kissing the mask before moving down and adding another. 
     “Min,” Y/n whined as she pulled up the back of his shirt. 
     “Yeah, kitten?” he asked
     “Bed,” Y/n briefly said
     “Need daddy to pound you into his bed again?” 
     “Mhmm.”
     “Words, kitten.”
     “Yes. Please, Daddy.”
     “Good girl.”
     Minho grabbed her thighs and stood up with her. Y/n quickly wrapped herself around him as he smiled. Walking her to his room down the hall before pinning her down onto the bed. Grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head, tossing the material to the side. 
     Y/n smiled at him as he leaned back down and kissed her again. Moving one hand up her shirt again and cupping one of her breasts. Gently massaging the mound as his lips moved in sync with hers. 
     “Min,” Y/n whined against his lips 
     “Making you feel good, kitten?”
     “Mhmm.”
     Minho pulled away from her lips and sat up, “How about you strip for me? Let daddy see you, mhm?”
     Y/n eagerly stripped off her clothing, tossing it elsewhere in the room as her boyfriend watched her, palming his bulge through his gym shorts. Smiling as she laid back flat on the bed. 
     “So obedient,” Minho chuckled as used his free hand to gently rub over her clit as he got down on his stomach. Getting face to face with her cunt. 
     Y/n watched as his hands trailed up her body as he leaned in and tentatively licked her folds. Y/n let out a small moan as she grabbed his hands, guiding them up to her breasts. Feeling his lips wrap around her clit. 
     His hands gripped her breasts as he sucked on the bundle of nerves. Rubbing his thumbs over her nipples as he let his tongue roam over her clit and hole. Teasing her by dipping the tip in before pulling away and sitting up. 
     Y/n watched him sit up a bit before bringing a hand back down to her clit. Two fingers ran between her folds before he leaned down and let a glob of spit fall from his lips and onto her clit. Y/n jerked at the contact before he spread it over her. Dipping one finger into her. 
     Y/n arched her back slightly as he curled his finger up into her. Spreading her legs open more with his other hand. 
     “More, please.” Y/n begged 
     “Greedy kitty needs another finger in her?” Minho laughed yet complied. Pushing a second finger inside her. Feeling her clench around his fingers as he slowly worked her open. Leaning over her body before dipping his head down. Taking one of her nipples into his mouth. 
     Y/n wrapped her arms around his head and lightly tugged on his hair. “Fuck,” Y/n whined as his fingers barely grazed the soft spot inside her.
     Minho chuckled as he lightly bit her nipple before pulling away from her and releasing the bud. He lightly blew on the skin and watched it pebble. Minho smiled and gave the same treatment to the other nipple as his palm pressed against her clit, rubbing the bud ever so slightly. 
     Every single whine was music to Minho’s ears. Picking up his pace as her walls grasped his fingers before he felt her cum coat his fingers. “Good girl,” Minho praised her as she rode out her orgasm. 
     He kissed up her chest to her neck and pulled his fingers out of her. Hovering his fingers over her mouth. Y/n opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around his fingers. Cleaning them off before he pulled them out of her mouth with a smile. 
     He leaned over and grabbed a condom from his bedside table before sitting up on his knees. Minho pulled his shorts and boxers down. Y/n watched him spring up from the fabric, red tip leaking with precum. 
     Minho tore open the foil and grabbed the rubber. Tossing the packaging to the side and rolling the rubber down his length. Stroking himself as she held her legs open for him. Chuckling a bit as he lined the tip up at her whole 
     “Imagine if the whole office knew their boss was such a whore for her secretary,” he teased, pushing himself into her fully 
     Y/n moaned as her walls hugged his cock. He grabbed hold of the back of her knees and pushed her legs down more. 
     “Fuck,” Y/n groaned 
     Minho pulled back and started thrusting into her. Starting at a slower pace and gradually picking up. “Been thinking about this all day. Walking into the office in that damned skirt.”
     “Should’ve fucked me— oh fuck— on my desk.” Y/n moaned 
     “Yeah? Want me to bend you over your desk? Fill you up in the morning with my cum instead of bringing you coffee?”
     “Yes!” 
     Minho smiled as he moved one hand down and rolled his thumb over her sensitive clit again. Moans leaving her lips that he was sure his neighbors would complain about later but he didn’t care all too much at the moment. 
     His own moans left him as she squeezed him. Her cunt fluttered around him as he pulled a second orgasm from her. Her body was shaking under him as he picked up speed. Working himself towards his own orgasm. 
     His high hit him just as she came down from hers. Burying himself inside her as his cum filled up the rubber. His hand grabbed onto the sheets under her as he rode out his high. Occasionally thrusting into her before he was finished. 
     “Is it too soon to say I love you?” Minho asked
     “I don't think so,” Y/n said
     Minho leaned down and kissed her for the umpteenth time that night. Though, much slower this time. Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he hooked her legs around his waist. “I love you,” Minho mumbled against her lips
     “I love you too,” Y/n mumbled back
     Minho pulled back and looked down at her, “Let me get you cleaned up.”
     “Mhmm was hoping for round two,” Y/n said
     “We’ve got all night. Don't worry about that,” Minho smiled 
     “How about all weekend?” Y/n asked
     “Like that even better.”
     Y/n smiled before he pulled out of her. Getting up to grab a towel, and coming back to clean her up. 
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☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR
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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE
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softspiderling · 9 months ago
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illicit affairs - part three | r.c
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summary:
“Are you crazy?” he asked, his voice suddenly all breathy. “I’m still worked up off of Monique last week. I will literally cum the second you put your mouth on me.”
“Don’t mention Moany while I have your dick in my hand.”
“Technically-”
Rafe broke off when you lifted your head, raising a brow at him.
“A’ight, precious, I didn’t say nothin’.”
OR; You and Rafe move in unfamiliar territory
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
warnings: SMUT! 18+ MDNI! p in v, oral sex (female receiving)
word count: 2,4k
author's note: uhm.... this is basically just porn. yeah. also can't believe that the first time i post rafe smut is part of this series lmaoooo. happy reading, i hope you love it <3
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
pt. three: "a dwindling mercurial high"
Pulling away for a second, Rafe tugged his shirt off, tossing it somewhere over his shoulder, before his hands were already back on you, helping you out of your top and letting it drop on the floor. Even though you just lost an item of clothing, you still felt so hot, and it didn’t help that Rafe’s eyes immediately zeroed in on your chest. But before either of you could get carried too far away, you stopped, heaving breaths.
“Wait.”
“What?” Rafe asked, fingers playing with the straps of your bra, eager to take it off.
“We’re not having sex on the couch.”
He sat back, as if just realizing you were still in the living room. “Right, shit. Sorry.”
Before you could ask what he was sorry for, he looped his arm around your waist, easily picking you up and if you weren’t already wet, your panties would be drenched by now. Your legs hooked around his side, as if you had done it a million times before, clinging to him as he carried you upstairs into his bedroom. Without much ado, he tossed you on the bed, and you yelped, glaring at him.
“Is this how you treat all the girls?”
Rafe grinned at you, kneeing on the bed and tugging your shorts and panties down in one go, thumb stroking your inner thigh.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make up for it,” he promised, and before you could say anything, his face was already between your legs, tongue delving between your folds.
“Fuuuuck.”
Your hands dove into his hair, nails scratching over his scalp as he ate you out, the pad of his thumb pressing onto your bundle of nerves like there was no tomorrow. God, you really missed this, missed some good oral sex, because for some reason, your exes either refused to go down on you or were terrible at it. But Rafe? Rafe was excellent. And you weren’t surprised.
Lips parted, to let out small, breathy moans, which turned into a groan when Rafe slowly pushed a finger into you.
“Shit, give a girl a warning,” you gasped out, your hips arching from the bed, but Rafe pushed it back down easily with one hand, grinning up at you.
“I did. Told you I’d make it up to you, didn’t I?” He asked, lazily pumping his finger in and out and if you weren’t rolling your eyes out of pleasure, you’d be rolling them out of annoyance. Beads of sweat were rolling down your temple as Rafe added a second finger, your toes curling as he added a third. It didn’t take long for you to feel the warm, familiar sensation of an orgasm building in your stomach and let out a soft moan, causing Rafe to look at you, eyebrow raised.
“I’m so close Rafe,” you whined, voice breathless.
“Yeah? Are you going to cum for me?”
“Just shut up and put your mouth to better use!” You huffed, pushing his head down towards your cunt. You could feel him chuckling against your skin, but he obeyed your orders anyways. He brought his mouth down, sucking on your clit, his fingers never stopped moving. You let out a gasp, feelings the knot uncoiling, so close.
“Yes, so close,” you moaned, hands dropping on the mattress, fingers curling around the bedsheets, your hips arching off the bed when your orgasm finally washed over you, Rafe’s name leaving your lips like a prayer.
“Fuck that was hot,” he muttered, licking his fingers clean like he just finished the meal of his life. You let your head fall back on the pillow, letting out a breath, your eyes fluttering close.
“Did I wear you out already?” Rafe asked, leaning up to place a rather soft kiss on your lips. You huffed, kissing him back before pulling away, peeking an eye open at him.
“Don’t ruin it by opening your mouth.”
The corner of Rafe’s mouth quirked up, and he pushed your sweaty hair out of your face. “Are you always this mean to guys you have sex with?” The way he looked at you made your cheeks heat up, despite the fact that he was just between your legs.
“No. Just you.”
Rafe opted against replying, only grinning, leaning up to reach behind your back to finally unclasp your bra, which you glad let fall off your shoulders. He didn’t waste any time to put his mouth on one of your tits, his hand on the other, kneading it gently, his fingers rolling your nipple, while his tongue laved around the other, until it turned into a stiff peak.
“I can’t believe it took you this long to show me your tits,” he said, leaving a wet trail of kisses on your chest. You let out a breathy moan, giving him a look.
“Why the fuck would I have shown you my tits?”
“Why not?”
You pushed him on the forehead gently, so he’d fall back on his back, a crease forming on his forehead, and you could tell he was not done playing with your tits, but this was your turn. Now it was you who was getting between his legs, pulling his shorts down, hand immediately palming his erection through his boxers. “Can I blow you?”
“Are you crazy?” he asked, his voice suddenly all breathy. “I’m still worked up off of Monique last week. I will literally cum the second you put your mouth on me.”
“Don’t mention Moany while I have your dick in my hand.”
“Technically-”
Rafe broke off when you lifted your head, raising a brow at him.
“A’ight, precious, I didn’t say nothin’.”
Slowly, you tugged his boxers off, not quite sure what to expect. Your jaw did drop when you saw his cock sprang free, bouncing off his abdomen.
“Shit.”
You didn’t have to look at Rafe to know he had a shit eating grin on his face, he was your best friend after all. You knew him like the backside of your hand.
“Do you have a condom?”
“In the top drawer, can’t miss it,” Rafe said and you leaned over the bed to open the drawer. “The XXL ones.”
“Oh my god, literally shut up,” you groaned, fishing a red foiled packet out of the drawer, shutting it close again. Settling back between his legs, you were about to open the foil, when you noticed the look on his face.
“What?”
Rafe only shrugged, running a hand through his hair and you gave him a look.
“Rafe, what?”
“You’re gonna yell at me.”
You followed his eyesight to the condom, before you realized what he didn’t want to say. “You want to do it without a condom?”
He shrugged again.
“Rafe, you have sex with like ten girls a week.”
“Are you slut shaming me right now, precious?” Rafe asked with a snort. “I never fuck anyone without a condom and you know I get tested regularly. And I trust you. You’re on the pill, right?”
You shifted on your knees, contemplating his suggestion. You usually had sex without condoms becuase you liked it better that way, but you were afraid that one less layer between you and Rafe would change even more between the two of you. And yes, you realized how stupid it sounded.
Rafe interpreted your silence as turning his suggestion down, wrapping his hand around your thigh. “’s fine. Let’s use a condom.”
“No, I’m good. I was just thinking,” you assured him, tossing the packaged condom on the drawer. “I trust you.”
“Are you sure?”
You tried to ignore how concerned Rafe was looking and you nodded, wrapping your hand around his cock.
“Yes.”
“Shit okay,” Rafe groaned, bucking his lips a little. You gave his cock a few good pumps, anticipation building in you, before you crawled over him until you were hovering just over the tip. Rafe’s hands found their place on your waist and you felt him squeezing you as you slowly lowered yourself on his cock, the both of you moaning out.
“Fuck.”
You gave yourself a second to adjust, mostly due to his sheer size, but also because you felt like you had to take a second. This was Rafe. Your best friend. For some reason, you thought this had to feel weird, but all you could think about was how right it felt.
“You good?” Rafe asked, his voice tight.
You exhaled, nodding, before started to move up and down on his cock, movement fluid from your slick and his precum, your hands leaning on his chest.
“Shit, precious.”
Your cheeks flamed, hearing the familiar nickname being used in such an unfamiliar setting with Rafe. Terrified that you were wearing your emotions on your face, you leaned further forward so he couldn’t see your face, while simultaneously giving yourself more space to move. Soon, the bedroom filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, coupled with both your and Rafe’s moans, as the two of you found your rhythm.
Rafe was right, the sex with him was amazing, because of the two of you just worked. He knew just the right moment to snap up his hips to hit the right spot as you rode him, knew how to guide your waist on his cock and when your hips started to stutter, Rafe didn’t hesitate to flip you over, laying you on your back.
“Hey, I wasn’t done,” you protested breathlessly, hair fanning around his pillow. Rafe scoffed, lining up his cock, sliding in, before he pounded into you, holding into the headboard as it kept banging against the wall. Gasping, your eyes rolled back, as Rafe kept fucking into you, your eyes fluttering open when you noticed him getting closer to you, his breath hot on your face as he panted.
“You were saying?”
“Shut up,” you moaned, pulling him down to kiss him, bringing his body closer, his movements never stopping. Slowly, you could feel another orgasm build up, your toes curling. It must have shown on your face, because Rafe pinched your nipple, his cock driving in and out of you.
“You close?”
Nodding, you let out a soft moan, arching your back a little, yearning for your orgasm, even though you had just cum not that long ago,
“M’too,” he groaned, his hips stuttering. He reached down, applying pressure in circular motions against your bud with his finger, keeping fucking into you.
“Fuck, don’t stop,” you whined, nails digging into his shoulders, “Yes, yes, yes, fuck, Rafe!”
“Can I?” he breathed out, his face contorting, and you only nodded, muttering a soft yes, before he finished inside of you, and when you felt his warm come spurt into, you reached your peak, your breath stuttering out as you came, body arching off of the mattress, before you slumped back down, exhausted. Carefully, Rafe pulled out, flopping down on the bed next to you, catching his breath.
“Fuck,” he said, pushing his hair out of his face, glancing over to you. “Wait, let me grab a towel.”
You didn’t even have any energy to protest as Rafe got up to pad to the bathroom. Your eyes were shut as you recovered from your orgasm, before realization suddenly hit you.
You just had sex with Rafe.
Your best friend, Rafe.
“Oh my god,” you muttered, rubbing your hands all over your face. It wasn’t like you regretted it per se, you just wasn’t sure if this was the smartest move to do.
It didn’t take long for Rafe to return, having put on some boxers somewhere on the way to the bathroom. He knelt down on the bed, careful to wipe the cum off of you, and you winced when he brushed over your still sensitive cunt.
“Relax, I know what I’m doing,” he said, pressing a soft kiss on your inner thigh. And he wasn’t lying. His hands were gentle as they moved over your lower body, applying soft pressure with the wet cloth where it was needed to clean you off.
“Who knew you were so gentle with your sex partners,” you teased, leaning on your elbows to watch him. Rafe’s cheeks tinged pink and he tossed the dirty towel into the hamper after he was done.
“Shut up.”
He reached over to the side to hand you his shirt, and you pulled it over your head, glancing around, eyes squinted.
“Where did you toss my panties?”
“Uh…” Rafe looked around, before pausing, picking up your panties from the floor at the end of the bed. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” you snorted, putting your panties back on, before you got off the bed. Rafe watched with careful eyes, scratching his head.
“You’re seriously not still going home, are you precious?”
“Rafe,” you sighed, giving him a look. “I need to pee.”
“Right, sorry.”
You shook your head in amusement, before making your way to the bathroom, the nickname ringing in your head. As you did your business on the toilet - since you did not want to end up with an UTI - you wondered if you could get Rafe to stop calling you precious during sex. It just felt weird, like a permanent reminder that you were still just his best friend.
With the difference that you were having sex now, that is.
Flushing the toilet, you went to the sink, washing your hands and frowned at your reflection in the mirror, before calling out his name.
“Hey, can you maybe not call me precious while we’re fucking?”
He didn’t say anything and you weren’t sure if he fell asleep, so you tiptoed into the bedroom, pausing in the doorway when you saw him look at you with an odd look on his face, halfway tucked into bed.
“Why?”
You shrugged with your shoulders, feeling like he was staring you down, so you crawled under the blankets on the left side of the bed.
This? This felt like familiar territory. You had spent countless nights sleeping in the same bed as Rafe. But everything before that? Terribly unfamiliar.
“I don’t know, it’s weird.”
Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“Sure precious,” he said, leaning over to the nightstand to shut the light off, basking you in darkness.
“Whatever you want.”
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
author's note: thoughts?
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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 2 months ago
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Twelve Days: Part 2^**
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In days 5-8 Y/N confronts her sister about her behavior. The tension between Harry and Y/N starts to grow as they continue spending more time together after hours until it's just impossible not to address it. READ PART 1 HERE
Warnings: infidelity, break ups, mentions of depression and anxiety and their symptoms, mentions and use of alcohol and drugs, breast/ nipple play, dry humping
WC: 7.1K
Day Five:
When you woke up the following morning you were alone in the bed which definitely was for the best because you felt really guilty for the night before. Yeah, you hadn’t actually gone through with anything terrible, but you two had crossed a boundary that shouldn’t have been crossed. Maybe it was because you were both a little heartbroken over the things that you were going through personally, but ultimately, that didn’t really justify anything. 
Despite the very successful night of sleep you’d had, you felt a little unwell. Your stomach felt funky and your thoughts were going a hundred miles a minute. You didn’t want to get out of bed today even though you knew that a walk around the neighborhood would help you feel a little less gross, both physically and mentally. It seemed like a great day to just be lowkey and rot and then your door creaked open and you sat up to see your mom peering in.
“Sorry, I thought you’d still be asleep. Was just seeing if your sister had stayed with you or something.” She explained with a worried expression on her face.
“No. I was alone. All night.” You added with a nervous lump in your throat.
“Hmmm…did she say anything to you last night?”
“No. But she was out with Claudia, she’s not here?”
“Claudia is, but she said they came back together. She hasn’t responded to Harry.”
“Maybe she went out for a walk or a run. I saw her the other day when I went out.” You explained and she nodded and left.
The logical thing to assume was that she had spent the night with that guy she was sleeping with. Doing this on a family trip was a new low. Suddenly, you didn’t feel so bad for having the hots for Harry because she was out with another guy! That alone was enough to motivate you to get out of bed and you called your sister while you paced around your room back and forth waiting for her to pick up. 
“Hello?” She hummed happily and you sighed.
“Where are you? Everyone’s freaking out!” You whisper shouted, trying not to sound too angry with her because you technically weren’t supposed to know what was actually going on.
“I went to have breakfast with a friend! I left a note by the door!” She said and you sighed, “I’ll be back in like an hour tops.”
“Why didn’t you text Harry back then?”
“I didn’t want to text him and wake him. You guys did a lot yesterday and he was pretty tired. I got back late and slept in Claudia’s room.” She fibbed and you hummed.
“Well just…hurry back.”
“Yeah. Bye!” She said and hung up quickly. 
You got your slippers on and headed out to the kitchen where your mom was making coffee for everyone.
“She answered my call. She’s out at breakfast with a friend who’s also here, I guess.” You said and just like that, the crease between your mother’s brows was ironed out. 
“Oh, thank god.”
“She said she left a note by the door.” You said and your aunt hurried over and was soon back in sight with a piece of paper.
“I may have missed it in my panic!” Claudia chuckled and your dad rolled his eyes.
“Well, what do you guys want to eat?” Your mom asked.
“I don’t care, I just want some mimosas.” Harry said and headed to the fridge to get the champagne.
“Excellent idea!” Your dad exclaimed happily and you smiled and started heading back to your bedroom.
“Hey, where are you off to?” Harry asked.
“Just gonna wash up and get dressed.” You informed and he smiled and got back to his task. 
Despite her promise to return in an hour or so, your sister was not back until nearly two in the afternoon. Your parents were inside watching a movie with your aunt and you and Harry were pretending to play tennis. Pretending because you had no idea what you were doing, you were just winded from all the back and forth. It wasn’t as easy as it seemed. You and Harry were laughing about you accidentally hitting the ball over the fence when your sister came out to the back and towards the pool house. Suddenly the laughter died down and Harry headed towards you.
“I should go talk to her.” He said and you bit your lip for a second.
“Ummm…let me.” You said, “I can get her to tell me the truth and then talk a little sense into her.”
“You shouldn’t have to…”
“I know. But this is super fucked up and everyone’s all confused and she’s just going to yell at you, so let me try.”
“Alright.” He agreed and you nodded once before heading towards the pool house.
You did feel extremely nervous as you reached for the door handle but you had to talk some sense into her. It seemed that she was just over pretending to be happy and didn’t care how it all came out. However, you knew that your sister actually really cared for how she was outwardly perceived, so this was extremely out of character for her. As soon as she heard the front door open she sighed.
“Spare me the argument, Harry. He’s gone.” She called out as you rounded the corner.
“Who’s gone?” You asked and she quickly turned around from walking over to the bathroom.
“No one. Just a friend Harry’s jealous of.” She mumbled with a shake of her head.
“Mmm…some friend that must be because Harry’s not the jealous type.” You said as you sat on the corner of the bed. Showing her that you had no intention of leaving any time soon.
“And how would you know that?”
“Because I’ve known the guy for almost 10 years, Julie! It takes a lot to upset him. Him not being the jealous type was one of the things you really liked about him when you were dating. You told me about it many times.” You reminded her. “You’ve got everyone thrown for a loop with how you’ve been acting.”
“Oh my god…don’t make this a thing.”
“I’m not! This is very much a thing already. What is going on, huh?” You pressed and she sighed.
“Nothing, Y/N! Just mind your business.”
“What’s really going on?” You pressed and she groaned.
“You wouldn’t even understand so just stay out of it, Y/N!” she raised her voice.
“Try me.” You said simply and her anger seemed to dissipate and she just stood there for a second, genuinely giving it some thought. And then her eyes started welling up.
“I can’t.” She said and you frowned.
“Why not?” You questioned.
“Because you’re going to think so badly of me.” She said and you frowned.
“Jules, I’d never judge you.” You said sincerely and she sighed. “Look ummm…Harry, h-he told me about you.” You said carefully and her jaw dropped as her tears started to fall. She quickly sat beside you and started sobbing, so you pulled her into your side. It was strange for you but you wanted her to know that this mistake she had made wasn’t enough to make you not love her. Despite your slightly complicated relationship, she was important to you and you wanted nothing more than the best for her. “It’s okay…” you assured her. 
After she calmed down some, you grabbed her Stanley for her and let her drink a bit as you grabbed some toilet paper so that she could blow her nose. She let out a long exhale and then let herself fall back onto the mattress.
“I’m a major demisexual and I’m in love with someone else and yes, I’ve been…having an affair with him.” She confessed.
“For how long?” You asked.
“There’s been three separate times.” She explained, “The first time Harry and I had been dating a few months and ummm…it happened after a work party and it went on for about a month. It ended because Harry caught us a friend’s wedding and he dumped me for a few days for it. Then again, right after Harry and I got engaged.” You frowned as you heard this, “And that one lasted like four months.” She explained and your jaw slightly dropped upon hearing this. “I know…and it just…it fucked me up! I started to doubt and was sort of on the fence until we were like three months away from the wedding! I just, I was trying to find the courage to end it with Harry.” she cried and you nodded as you listened, “And then it was the month before the wedding and I missed my period.” Julie explained and you nodded. “By that point Joey and I hadn’t seen each other for three months! Because he had given me an ultimatum and that’s what made me decide to leave Harry. But yeah, then that happened and I just…felt like it was a sign to stay.” She shrugged.
“So…what happened with that?” You asked carefully.
“Nothing. I mean, I was just late. Probably stress from the wedding and the decision I was making with Harry…and I think I had started on birth control a few weeks prior, so yeah, it was just late. But I still took that as a sign, you know and I stayed with Harry. I didn’t talk to Joey all this time until last year. I decided that maybe being friends on social media would be alright after all those years. Like we were such good friends and I did miss that. But obviously, that was a slippery slope and here we are… and I mean, I’ve loved him all this time. But I’ve also loved Harry enough to stay. But then when Joey and I started talking again that love for Harry was gone.” She said sadly. She brought her hands up to her face and groaned into them. “I’m such a horrible human being! I’m a piece of shit!” 
“You’re not, Jules. You did a horrible and shitty thing, but you’re not that.” You assured her. “If you don’t love Harry anymore then why don’t you just get divorced?” You asked.
“This is what I hate myself for most!” She cried. “I just know that…leaving Harry is not the best option for me. Joey is flighty and kind of a fuck boy! But he still cares about me. So then I think if I show him that I am that committed to him he won’t be so afraid of trying with me for real.” She explained and you wanted to laugh. That was maybe the most delusional thing you had ever heard in your life. You felt so bad for her.
“I know how fucking delusional that makes me sound! Trust me, I know! That’s why I haven’t left Harry. Because logic is completely out the window right now! And I mean, m-maybe with time I’ll fall for Harry again? I mean, I did once before…” she explained as the tears streamed down her face.
“I’m sorry.” You said lowly. 
“Don’t be…I did this to myself.” She sniffled. “And now I’m dragging one of the best persons in the world down with me.” She whimpered before she started to cry again. “I know I’m being selfish but I’m so scared!” She broke down again and you pouted. 
“I know how scary it is to be alone, but you’re going to punish Harry for it and I don’t need to tell you how unfair that is. You get both things and he gets nothing? I mean, you both deserve the chance to be with people that make you happy.” You reasoned.
“Yeah…I know.” She whimpered before letting out another sob.
She continued crying for several more minutes before she had calmed down. You were gently rubbing her back as she was turned away from you. You could sense her shame, is was so great that it was suffocating the both of you. 
“Look, I think you need to have a nice relaxing shower. Wash the day away, yeah? And I can make you a really great cocktail and then we can watch Mean Girls.” You suggested and she rolled over and gave you a confused look.
“That’s not a Christmas movie!” She exclaimed. Your family also had a rule that during the Christmas season you could only watch Christmas movies with another member of the family.
“I’m talking about the real, iconic version. Like it’s not entirely Christmas-y but it does contain one of the most iconic Christmas scenes in cinematic history and that alone makes it Christmas-y enough!” You defended and she smirked.
“You’re right. Love that movie.” She hummed and you smiled.
“I know.” You responded.
“Well, it sounds like a plan.” She said with a smile.
“Alright.” You confirmed. 
“On your way out can you send Harry in? I should apologize.” She decided and you nodded and got up to go. 
Harry was sitting on one of the pool chairs when you emerged from the pool house and he instantly sat up and glanced around to see you approaching. He looked a little nervous and you offered a small smile to reassure him some.
“She told me the truth.” You said and he looked surprised, “I know. And ummm, she asked if you’d give her a few, she wants to apologize.” You said and his features softened.
“Yeah, of course.” He said and immediately sat up.
“Good luck in there.”
“Thank you.” He smiled as you went your separate ways. Despite how badly you wanted to eaves drop in hopes for some indication of how the supposed apology was going, when you got to your bedroom you decided to have a shower instead. 
By the time you were out and making the cocktails, Harry was also arriving at the kitchen from his bedroom, freshly showered.
“Can you add a bit more f’me? I’m gonna watch the film with you two.”
“Oh, sure!” You agreed easily. “So it’s good with you guys?”
“Yeah, we’re good.” He assured and you were pleased with that.
And truly, for the rest of the day everything was great. It honestly felt like the tension between them that you’d sensed this entire time had evaporated and you hoped that it would stay that way for the remainder of the trip.
Day Six: 
It had been a really fun day with your family. You’d decided to go to the outlets, and on the way back stopped at the casino where you’d actually won nearly $1,200, just your luck. And then had an excellent dinner with everyone before you got back to the house. Despite your busy and exciting day, you found yourself staring up at the ceiling. To be fair it was only around 10pm, but you’d had a very long day. And then, the sound of a few quiet knocks on the door made you smile.
“Yeah?” You spoke up and Harry peeked into the bedroom with a smile on his face as well.
“Can’t sleep?”
“No.” You mumbled. “Come in.” You said and he hurried in and closed the door quietly.“Wanna smoke a bit?” You asked and he nodded.
“Yes, please.” He hummed with zeal and you chuckled as you got out of bed. You tended to get hot in bed, so you always wore something more revealing on top and some long bottoms. It was currently cool in the room though and the thin, baby blue tank you were wearing was leaving nothing to the imagination, so it was no surprise that Harry did a double take before quickly looking down at his phone.
“I’m gonna grab a sweater, s’cold out. Can you grab the weed? There’s a little black bag from the dispensary in the bedside drawer.” You instructed and he nodded. You hurried into your closet and grabbed the first one you saw and grabbed your lighter from your purse as you hurried out. And soon you and Harry were positioning the chairs so that the edge of the roof didn’t obstruct the view of the starry sky. 
“Just pick what you want.” You said and he started looking through the bag and pulled out a more indica heavy blend. “Ooh, good choice. But we’ll definitely need snacks. And water.” You said and he grinned. 
You made a quick trip to the kitchen and grabbed some cereal and milk because you figured that it would satiate the munchies and also hydrate you to counteract the cottonmouth. And with that settled you were finally passing the joint back and forth and staring up at the sky. You had been talking about TV shows and things you’d read, music you were into at the moment, it was really nice and comfortable with him. And after a moment of silence Harry turned to you.
“I have to ask…” he said and you turned to look at him and nodded, “Ummm, the day when you…walked in on me?” He asked and you nodded nervously, “Did you see everything?” He asked and your groaned and looked away bashfully and he chuckled. “No point in lying about it…” he said and you turned back, face beet red as you faced him.
“I didn’t. I promise!” You insisted.
“Okay…” he hummed, still in slight disbelief. 
“It’s true!” You pressed once more.
“I’m just teasing you.” He grinned.
“Well stop, it’s making me feel bad all over again!” You chuckled and he chuckled along with you.
“Don’t feel bad. I understand the curiosity just gets you sometimes.” He said and you hummed and shrugged in agreement. 
“So…what’s next for you. I-if you guys end things?”
“I don’t know…I’ve been approached about a tenure track opening at the university and I’m trying to decide if it’s worth it.” He said and you nodded in agreement.
“I know I could go back home…work at my alma mater…be closer to my family…”
“But?”
“In a way, going back would feel like defeat. Like I just wasted all of this time.” He said and you felt sad for him as he confessed this.
“Well, you got offered a tenure track position! Clearly you haven’t been wasting your time.” You encouraged him and he smiled.
“That’s true…”
“But I mean, if you decide to go back then at least you’ll be closer to your family.” You said with a smile.
“Well, my family is kind of a mess so…things are better with us when we have some distance between us. That’s why coming here was an idea to begin with” He explained.
“Oh, I didn’t know that. Sorry.” You said.
“It’s alright.” He assured you. “Let’s talk about you… I know you’re a caring person but you’re just deflecting at this point.” he said and you smiled a bit and shrugged.
“It’s just…when I think about it I still get really sad.” You explained, with a sad smile on your face and his gaze softened.
“I saw the depression meds in the drawer. You know, you really shouldn’t smoke while you take them. You could get serotonin syndrome.” He said with concern.
“Oh, I haven’t started them. I was supposed to a few weeks ago and well, I had brought them to start on Sunday but I forgot.” You explained.
“Why haven’t you started them?”
“I don’t know…not any good enough reasons though.” You shrugged.
“Like?” He pressed and you sighed and just straightened out and looked at the beautifully starry sky. You hadn’t seen that many stars in a long time.
“My pride…” you chuckled dryly and he sputtered out a laugh as he tried to keep quiet.
“Okay…in what way?”
“Just in the most obvious way…like this person affected me so much that it broke my mind and unbalanced by brain!” You whisper shouted and then sat up straight and brought the joint to your mouth and took a small hit before blowing out the smoke. “How could I let someone hold so much power over me?!” You chuckled in disbelief as your eyes welled up with tears and handed over the joint.
“This is not your fault. You loved and trusted, that’s not wrong.” He reassured you and you sighed. You watched him take a hit and then sighed.
“You’re right. But I still feel weak for it, you know? So ummm…yeah, not taking those meds yet and still surviving and finding joy every now and again, it makes me feel a little bit better.” You confessed.
“And you feel alright?”
“Yeah and getting better too. Slowly but surely.”
“Okay. Promise you’ll take them when you start to plateau.” He requested as he handed back the dwindling joint.
“Promise.” You assured before taking the last hit and then smashing it against the ashtray to completely extinguish it. “Should we put something on and eat our cereal?”
“Yeah, lets do it.” He agreed and you smiled.
Before you knew it, the both of you were reclining against the headboard with your cereal bowls and watching SNL highlights.
Day Seven:
Once again, you had woken up alone. You had gone on your walk and when you returned Harry and Julie were already in the kitchen.
“Great, you’re back! Guess what!?” Harry exclaimed.
“What?” You asked as you put your AirPods back into their case.
“Save Ferris has a show at Pappy and Harriet’s tonight!” 
“Oh, no way?!” You gasped in disbelief and your sister turned to you.
“You know who that is?” She asked and you nodded.
“I had a ska phase in high school.” You shrugged and she knocked her head back and laughed.
“Oh, right! God… glad you got through that.” She said and you flipped her off as you started to head to your room to shower. “So what? Do you want to go?” Julie asked and you stopped and turned towards her and then glanced to Harry who was smiling expectantly.
“Ummm…yeah! I’d like that actually.” You confirmed.
“Perfect! We’ll get the tickets, don’t worry about it. Merry Christmas.” She said to you and you smiled, “And well, I’m just going to get drunk because I don’t know what the fuck that band is.” She added and you chuckled.
“Well I think you’re going to have fun. And this is like a huge dream come true for me because I never thought I’d ever get to see them!” You said excitedly and she chuckled, “Thank you! I love you.” You said pointedly and then hurried off to shower.
All day the anticipation for this show was building up and building up. By the time you were leaving the house Julie was already tipsy. You were driving since they had paid, it was the least you could do, and you were actually glad you had driven, it was a nice distraction from just wanting to talk to Harry about anything and everything while your sister just laughed at TikTok’s in the backseat. You were also kinda worried that she might make herself car sick, especially as you started going up the winding roads to Pioneer Town.
You guys had intentionally arrived early to take a walk through the historical little western town. You looked through a few shops and then made your way to the saloon next door to the venue and had some tacos while you guys drank and chatted until it was time to make the short walk back to the venue. You guys waited in the merch line for a bit before heading over to the outdoor stage area and finding a spot to stand. Despite this not being a genre that your sister enjoyed, she was having a pretty decent time. And you and Harry had enjoyed the opener and also Save Ferris. You guys were bopping along and singing the songs. Your sister had a few more drinks during the show and by the the time it was all over she was draped around you as you guys headed to your car. 
“Want me to drive?” Harry asked as he opened the back right door to help you get Julie inside.
“I’m alright.” You assured him. Your sister groaned as she dropped down onto the seat. “Jules, seatbelt on please.” You said and she hummed.
“M’going, m’going…” she slurred. Once she was all strapped in you and Harry got settled in and you were making the drive back. It had only been a few minutes before you heard your sister slightly snoring from the back.
“Did she pass out?” You asked Harry and he glanced back and smiled.
“Yeah, she’s out.” He confirmed and you chuckled.
“Thanks for mentioning this show. It was super fun.” You smiled at Harry quickly before turning back to the road.
“I’m glad you had fun. You deserve it!” Harry explained with a smile, “Also, are you generally this great to go to shows with?” He asked and you giggled.
“I don’t know…I guess?”
“It’s just so nice to be present isn't it?” He asked and you nodded.
“Definitely. I get what you mean.” You agreed, “But specially here. It’s such an intimate venue. We couldn’t haven’t seen Save Ferris in a better place.” You gushed and he nodded with a wide smile. 
The rest of the way you guys were exchanging brief but charged glances. Even if you were just talking about the show and music, the air between you two was once again tense and you finally got a break from it when you arrived. You were giggling as you tried to get Julie inside as quietly as possible on your own since Harry had to pee. While you struggled with the task at hand, you had eventually made it to the pool house. She trudged in and just dropped herself on the bed and you chuckled before letting her be. When you returned to the main house Harry was in the kitchen, grabbing himself a glass of water.
“Want one?” He asked and you nodded.
“Please.” You confirmed and he handed the glass over to you before grabbing another for himself. You quickly drank it down and washed it before setting it back on the drying rack and then asking for his glass and washing his as well.
“Thanks.”
“Of course.” You hummed.
Moments later you were both walking down the dark hallway to get to your bedrooms. When you reached his door you stopped and he turned towards you.
“I also wanted to say that you look very pretty tonight.” He said softly and you smiled.
“Well thank you.” You responded bashfully.
“Of course.” He smiled nervously. You both looked at each other for a moment, the tension from before was rising between you again.
“Ummm, well…I should get to bed. Thank you again for finding this. I really did have the best time. I needed it.” You stated with a genuine smile as your gaze met his own. It lingered for a few more seconds before you felt all bashful again and you blinked away quickly. “Anyway, good night!” You chirped softly before he bid you a good night and you hurried into your room. 
You got changed and got ready for bed, but before you could get into it you felt a funny tug in your tummy. Yes, you had spent a whole afternoon basically with Harry, but having him in your room at night, it helped you sleep through the whole night. Which as you’d mentioned to him before, was a current struggle of yours. And more than that, you liked the warmth of him beside you. You loved how deep and raspy his voice got as you spoke late into the night. You liked that one of your pillows smelled like him from how much of a habit it had become to have him come see you and you were working up the guts to go ask him. You hurried to your bedroom door and swung it open only to see Harry already a few steps away from your door. 
“Hi.” He smiled as he came closer.
“Hi.” You smiled up at him as he stood before you. “Wanna come in?” 
“Yeah.” He smiled and stepped inside. 
Before long you were propped up on the pillows side by side, TV on some old reruns. You were barely paying attention because you were using all of your will power to try and not turn to face him. If you did, surely you’d lose all self-control and do something stupid like lean over to kiss him. Already, the warmth coming off of him was enough to make you want to close the small gap between the two of you. But then, from your peripherals you saw him steal a glance quickly. Your heart started to race, you were buzzing from head to toe as you debated whether to glance over as well. Your heart won that battle as you turned towards him and he smiled slightly.
“What?” You asked and he shrugged.
“Nothing just…we get along too well.” He shrugged and you smiled.
“Too well?” You asked and he hummed. “Maybe our personal situations are influencing a lot of the…vibes, you know?” You asked.
“Why do you say that?” He asked.
“Because, we’ve both been a bit neglected and disappointed by the people we loved. Like…for lack of better terms I think we’re both a little…thirsty.” You said as you giggled away the nerves and he smirked.
“Yeah…That’s true.” He verified.
“And well, then with like the underlying sadness, sometimes you just aren’t thinking all that clearly about things that you’d normally just… push aside.”
“Like what?” He pressed and you sighed.
“Like why we suddenly have the hots for each other!” You whisper shouted and he chuckled. “Like I’m suddenly very aware of you.” You explained.
“I think that was from seeing me half naked.” He said and you groaned in embarrassment as you let yourself fall onto your pillows. “Hey, hey…” Harry giggled as he turned onto his side to face you, “I’m teasing you.” He assured as he glanced down at you.
“I know, but still not my finest moment.” You reminded him with a playful roll of your eyes. But then he reached for your face and tucked your hair behind your ear. 
“I almost kissed you the other day, which…is equally as bad so I’d say we’re both on thin ice. And well, it’s not like I don’t want to now or something…Like I know that no one would find out about it-”
“What if they do somehow?” You asked nervously.
“They won’t. But if they did, it’s not like I was gonna be around you guys for much longer any way, with the divorce an all…” he said with a small shrug.
“So you’re going to get divorced?” You asked and he nodded.
“Yeah. Gonna get it going when we get back home.” He said and you nodded. 
Your eye contact with him didn’t waiver for another few seconds and before you knew it, you were both leaning in slowly. He exhaled shakily before you finishing closing the gap between your lips. It was just a small and quick touch of your lips together before you both pulled away. Your noses were nearly touching as you just hovered near each other for a few seconds. But from one second to the next, his will power snapped and he was kissing you again gently. Over and over, in quick little pecks, lips smearing together for seconds at a time, both too scared to kiss with a bit more fervor as to not find out just how far it could go. But like he said, no would find out…
“Fuck it then.” You whispered as you reached around his neck and he pulled you in closer by the waist. Your kiss deepened quickly, you moaned at the taste of his mouth, feeling his tongue smooth over your own and for his teeth to nibble at your bottom lip… you were reeling. Falling blissfully into a state of non-worry as you sunk into the delicious mattress and were blanketed by Harry’s warmth and weight over you. His constant squeeze at your hip was telling you that his body was screaming to do more with his hands, but he was trying not to do too much. You pulled away from the kiss quickly, smiling as he chased after your lips, “Just wanna tell you that you can…” you trailed off as he smooched over your lips quickly, “Y-you can touch me more.” 
As soon as you gave him the green light he slid his warm hand down the side of your thigh and to the underside where he hoisted it up around his own hip. Then he smoothed his hand back up your thigh, then up your waist, but from under your shirt. And slowly, he covered more skin until he was sliding his big, warm palm over your breast. You moaned as he gave it a gentle squeeze. The curiosity with which he was feeling you out was reminiscent of a very early sexual experience you had with some guy at a birthday party in the 8th grade, with all that seven minutes in heaven shit. 
“So you’re a boobs guy…” you giggled as he swiped his thumb over your hardening nipple.
“Definitely a boobs guy.” He mumbled into your lips before kissing you a few more times. “Can I take your shirt off?” He asked and you bit your lip as you weighed out your options. But who were you kidding, the thought of having those same lips all over your breasts had you slicking up your underwear even more than they already were. 
“Yeah.” You consented verbally and you sat up as he helped pull your body free from the shirt and then dropped it on an empty part of the bed. 
Harry’s warm, smooth lips started to kiss down your jaw, nibbling a few times on his way down to the column of your neck. You held in your giggles from his stubble tickling your sensitive skin. He had both of his hands on your breasts now as he sat over you, he was teasing your nipples, being so light and airy with his touches, it had you squirming. You knew he’d get there soon, but soon wasn’t happening as fast as you wanted.
“Please!” You whimpered and he glanced up at you and smirked.
“I’m going.” He assured you and he lowered himself until he was face level with your breasts.
He wasted no time in parting his lips and sucking your nipple between them. You whimpered and wove your fingers into his hair. He sucked harder and you gripped at his hair harder. His other hand kneaded over your other breast as you writhed beneath him. And as you wiggled around trying to part your legs to wrap around him, he pulled one out from under him and lowered his hips a bit as you ground up and that’s when you felt the bulge in his pants. He was so fucking hard.
“Fuck.” He sighed as he kissed back up your neck and finally back at your lips as he started to grind his cock against you. One of your hands slid up his arm, feeling at his bulging muscles. The other slid down to his backside, encouraging him to keep going. It wasn’t so much the feeling of the dry hump as it was the desperation that existed between you two. It would feel wrong to fuck so quickly, but you wanted to so badly that you were both willing to settle for this. It was a little bit sick and a lot pathetic, a true reflection of you two as you made out sloppily while rubbing fronts. 
You’d been struggling with your sex drive since the depression and you really hadn’t needed to be in tune with it, seeing as you had planned to steer clear of anything with another person for the foreseeable future. But now here you were, wetter than you’d been in months, feeling the fabric of your underwear clinging to the skin of your pussy. You needed more if you were going to come and you really, really wanted to come. 
“Harry…Harry…” you mumbled against his lips, “Take these off.” you panted as you tugged at the band of his pants and boxer briefs.
“Sure?” He asked and you nodded.
“It’ll be easier to come like that.” You said and he smiled. “What?”
“I just…hadn’t really thought about that, I was just kinda happy to be here.” He chuckled and you giggled.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just got a little carried away, s’been a while.” You explained.
“For me too. I want to…I just want to make sure, you know?” 
“Well, thank you for making sure.” You whispered and he smiled down at you before kissing you again. You two struggled for a bit as he tried to get his pants off without stopping the kisses, but eventually you had to and you watched as he knelt up onto the bed. His cock was so fucking pretty, it made you salivate. He wasn’t shaved clean but he was definitely trimmed. You also wanted to get his balls in your mouth and make him squirm with pleasure. You also started to get your pants off and he helped you pull them off of your legs. Your underwear matched with the sleep tank you had on, a nice baby blue color, but they did nothing to hide how fucking wet you were. 
After tearing off his shirt, Harry had your legs spread, holding you down by the backs of the thighs as he slid his cock over your clothed crease. Back and forth, over and over, the head of his cock was colliding with your clit. His foreskin was starting to pull back to reveal his tip, meaning that despite how hard he already felt to you, he had more to go. You were trying to keep your sounds at a minimum, but you were starting to get close to the edge. The steady pace Harry was going at, plus the weight and warmth of his cock gliding over you and between your sticky pussy lips were all pushing you to fall apart quickly.
“You’re gonna make me come so hard…” you moaned and he groaned and kissed you.
“Good, baby. Come for me.” He mumbled against your lips and you nodded. You were inhaling his exhales as you kissed sloppily. You could feel your legs starting to tense up and your walls starting to tighten inside of you as the pleasure started to become more concentrated in the pit of your core. It was so hot and tingly and lovely, it was starting to ache, you could feel your slick starting to pump out of your needy little hole. If Harry decided to try put it in you’d let him do it. Just processing that thought and how possible it was had your orgasm overcoming you. Your breath hitched and your whole body went stiff for a second before the pleasure just exploded. A gratifying moan slipped past your lips and Harry was quick to cover your mouth, chuckling lowly as you got lost in the pleasure of the orgasm. He watched your breasts bounce and jiggle beautifully as your body rolled gently with the waves of your orgasm. You were gripping the sheets so tight that your fingers slightly ached but it just felt so good. Even as he kept going, you welcomed the sensitivity. He pulled his hand from your mouth and reached for one of your boobs again before glancing down at his cock all slicked up with your slick and cum.
“Fuck I’m gonna come!” Harry mumbled and you bit your lip in anticipation. Opposite of what you expected, he slowed his pace and then grabbed the crotch of your panties and pulling it to the side. He moaned as he saw your whole pussy and then laid his cock over it again a few times and then very intentionally, he pressed against your entrance, it was making you tremble. “Fuck…gonna let me come all over your pussy?” He asked as he looked up at you and you nodded, mouth agape, eyes nearly closed from the insurmountable waves of lust.
“Please, need it so bad.” You encouraged his orgasm. And moments later he was groaning lowly as you felt his thick, warm load start to spill all over your pussy. His slow ruts against you were making you melt and you propped your self up on your elbows to see the mess he was making against you. “Do you always cum that much? Fuck…” you chuckled as you glanced up at him and he just smirked at you as he came to a slow stop.
“Do you feel bad?” He asked and you shook your head.
“Not yet at least…” you added and he nodded.
“Okay, me either.” He assured you. “Just wanted to check before I kissed you again.”
“Oh, okay.” You whispered as he leaned in and kissed you slowly again.
Eventually you got cleaned up and back into bed with him. You knew that you would wake up alone, but still weren’t sure if you’d be happy about it or not.
Day Eight: 
When your eyes opened the following morning you felt fine. You weren’t afraid to face Harry, you weren’t regretful of what you’d done. However, you did find yourself wondering when you’d be able to get away with it again.
What did concern you is how he would feel about it this morning. He was eager in the heat of the moment but what about now, after the post nut clarity? The more and more you gave it some thought the more you psyched yourself out and were avoiding joining everyone for breakfast. You were in your patio, smoking a joint to help you build up some appetite, but also to help you relax and be normal when you were in the same room with your aunt, parents, and brother in law who had just come loads over your bare pussy, and of course, your sister, his wife. Well, soon to be ex-wife, but still! It wasn’t official yet!
Finally you decided to bite the bullet and headed towards the kitchen. You greeted everyone good morning and then glanced to Harry who flashed you an easy smile. 
“You alright?” He asked. What sounded like the most casual question to everyone else was the most charged question between you and him. You smiled and nodded.
“Yeah. All good.” You reassured him and he smiled and nodded silently before continuing to eat his breakfast.
NEXT PART...
OMG SORRY FRIENDS! FOTGOT TO TAAAAG!
@daphnesutton @mads3502 @triski73 @xoxxjada @fangirl509east @stylesftcher @charlottesrecommendations @taintedwonder @goobernickle @loverofhsandallthings1d
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cindersnows · 1 month ago
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the problem with mitsi (or as i like to call it. mitsogyny)
(context: this was written under a youtube video, which i'm sure most of us have at least seen pop up in our recommendeds, in response to many people taking criticism against the new episode. it has been edited a little to be more cohesive as a somewhat-essay)
ok, i wanted to write out a rant/essay/ramble/whatever sort of summarising the criticism against mitsi's plotline because a lot of the people here seem to be misunderstanding the fundamental issue that people have with it, including some of those people themselves.
first off, an analysis that i think tell both sides of the argument very well which i feel should be read before reading the essay: Mitsi: What Makes A Fridged Character (and why y'all are wrong about it) | an AvA essay by InksandPensblog. i will note: i don't care to discuss whether mitsi was fridged or not and that won't be of much importance in this post. the above link gives some insight into some of the fandom's criticism of mitsi and how she was "fridged", defining common tropes for examples. that's what's relevant to this post.
the main issue with mitsi, in my opinion, is less with the fact that mitsi's a girl and moreso the fact that she's one of the only female-coded character in the series, and that her character's main purpose was to further victim's own development. the other arguably female-coded character in the series is pink, who (like navy) only really exists to explain purple's motivations. i don't have much of an issue with that since they're not meant to be important or sympathised with at all. that's not their job in the story.
with mitsi, i've seen people point out that she has more character to her than just victim's love interest and supporter: she invents rocketcorp, she's smart, she's kind, innocent and helpful. narratively speaking, she shows other creations' relationships with their animators, parallels her innocence with victim's trauma, and introduces victim to the outernet (as most fans call the stick realm).
but most of this things imo are either stretches or invalid arguments. she's not really a 2/3-dimensional character in any way; her main character traits boil down to the fact that she likes to be in service of others with no nuance behind why she likes helping people. she hypes up victim for the villagers, she starts a company with him to share his talents with the world, and she helps him overcome his trauma from alan's torture. all of her main plot beats center around victim: and while technically the sticks are genderless and free to be interpreted however the viewer wants, alan and most of his team see all the main characters as male, and that subconciously affects how they're written. mitsi, the first major female-coded character, spends most of her storyline in service of victim, a character not written as female.
there's also the issue of her being victim's canonical love interest. i feel like this statement from alan is important to keep in mind (don't mind the sound effects and edits, this is the only isolated clip i can find at the moment). in particular:
"i just assume that [the ava/m characters] are just a bunch of bros]. i haven't thought of adding any female stick figures but i think it'd be good. i don't want to introduce any romance though, i don't want that to be a theme."
he seems to have changed his mind on that last part, which is fine, but the notable part for me is that he seems to associate female characters with romance from the getgo. before anyone misinterprets this, i'm not trying to call alan sexist or anything. but there's a common issue with women in stories being reduced to just a romantic partner for the male lead, and mitsi falls under this, with her entire character existing to serve victim. (not to mention people will make things about romance whether you like it or not. that's just basic fandom. search up grapeduo or chodark.) even her death is to put victim on the path of vengeance--- it doesn't need to happen to show the extent of tco and tdl's destruction, because that's already made pretty clear in ava s2 the flashback and the earlier scenes showing various characters escaping burning buildings. when you write a female-coded character whose only purpose is to serve a male character, you're contributing to sexist narratives.
a counter i see many people point out with the idea that she has no character is that she does have character traits, it's just that they're generic ones like "kind" and "innocent". the issue is that she has no flaws to counterpoint this; it's not that she didn't have enough screentime. in ava4 for example, we see tsc's flaws pretty clearly; they can be very mean when they want to, they're petty (albeit for a fair reason), they're a little impulsive. this is shown in 11 minutes (from the moment they come alive to the end of the video).
with mitsi meanwhile… she doesn't seem to have any flaws? she helps victim whenever she can. she's nice to all the villagers. her customers all like her and she's a great leader at rocket corp (to note, specifically as part of a pair with victim. they're a power couple, she's barely given credit for her work alone). she has 13 minutes of screentime, or 10 if you count from her waking up in the outernet. there's plenty of opportunities to show her having flaws; maybe she acts a little selfish during tdl and tco's attack, only wanting to help herself and agent smith, or maybe she overworks herself, or feels awkward at having too much attention (and that could also be why she redirects so much attention to victim, she's shy). you could argue that the episode needs to develop victim and agent smith too, but ava4 shows that's easy to do too: just a few seconds dedicated to showing rgyb fighting over who leaves first shows that they can be selfish and childish. it's very easy to insert a moment like that for mitsi.
it's a little disappointing when the first major female-coded character in ava is completely flawless, with no personality outside of being nice and helpful for others.
also, slightly unrelated, check out this quote from mitsi's plushie website: "her white featureless face seems to ooze mystery and feminine power all at the same time." her main character trait, as a woman, is being feminine. it's irritating as someone who's been raised a woman to see her reduced to just her gender. she feels more plastic than a person, like the concept of what a woman should be (perfect, kind, useful) and not an actual character/person.
i would expect more from the writing in the series seeing as it's not just an independent passion project anymore, and has multiple writers that all could've worked to flesh out mitsi, or at least get a sensitivity reader of sorts to point these issues out. it's extremely disappointing and i can understand why people were upset.
tldr: the problem isn't just that mitsi's a girl, or that she's nice or dating victim, it's that she's written in a misogynistic way.
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temporarywelcome · 4 months ago
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hii
i absolutely love the spencer reid smooth criminal fic you wrote 💝
kinda sad no hotch mention 😩
could you please write more for spencer reid x kelopto!reader? like they need her to discreetly get something from an unsub for them and more shenanigans take place?
THANK YOUUU
( and sorry if this isn't coherent!!!)
hey bae here it is! Sorry it took so long, I had to flee from a hurricane... Didn't mention Hotch much in the first fic bc honestly i didnt think hed gaf like everyone else did lol. Anyway, here it is:
Special Consult - Spencer Reid
Word Count: 4.2k
Summary: The BAU has a tricky case, though the clock is ticking, only a matter of time till the unsub strikes again. And so they bring in some help: Spencer's girlfriend, the one person who can break into a millionaire serial killer's home undetected.
Warnings: some swearing, very brief violence
A/N: can be read as standalone but is technically part of my "Smooth Criminal" series.
____________
This unsub was slick.
An unsub in Virginia. Convenient enough for the BAU, only a few hours away. 
This unsub had tortured and killed four girls, recording the events and sending tapes to the families of the victims. 
According to the profile the BAU created, the unsub was way too sophisticated for these to be his first kills. 
And it led the team to a man named Richard Smith. Thirty seven years old, with a wife and two kids. 
The BAU knew he probably had more tapes, prior victims’ pain and suffering locked away somewhere. So the team came in with a warrant, turning his home upside down in search of not just tapes, but any piece of evidence that could be used against him.
They came up with nothing.
According to Garcia, that house was the only property under his name. 
So were they wrong? Did they suspect the wrong guy? The BAU reevaluated the profile, coming out stumped.
It was him. It had to be him.
So how did they prove it? Did they have to catch him in the act of slaughtering another innocent woman to actually catch him? 
“He should have the other trophies,” Morgan muttered, staring at the information on the whiteboard intently, “What are we missing?”
“Where else could he be hiding them?” Hotch asked, more to himself than the rest of the team, “There's no wooded area in a thirty-mile radius. A family member? Friend?”
“That doesn't fit the profile. He's incredibly secretive with his work, he would want it close to him, but hidden away,” said Reid. 
“Garcia's on the line,” Prentiss gestured to the open laptop, Penelope’s face filling the screen. The team stopped conversing, bringing their attention to her.
“Hey, my loves, just got some juicy, juicy information on Mr. Richard Smith,” she began, “He had this home built in 2009, and I noticed something fishy with the blueprints. There was one room on the second floor labeled ‘mechanic room’.”
Rossi's brows furrowed in confusion, “We found no ‘mechanic room’? Where is it located?”
“The door is in the library!” She replied.
“In the library? There was no other door…” Realization hit Prentiss, “A panic room?”
“Possibly,” JJ agreed, “You think the evidence we need would be in there?”
“That could be where he's torturing the victims as well,” Hotch suggested.
Rossi wasn't convinced, “You think he could get those women in there without his wife and kids finding out? Even knowing their schedules, there's always the chance of them going off schedule at some point and accidentally catching him in the act.” 
“It's worth a shot,” said Hotch, “Especially with his timeline. He should have his next victim now. He'll kill her tomorrow. Dump her the day after.”
“We don't have time for another warrant,” JJ pointed out in worry. 
“Isabella Carson was reported missing two days ago,” added Garcia, “he's probably got her.”
“She doesn't have a lot of time left.” Said Rossi.
JJ crossed her arms over her chest, “What do we do then?”
“We have to save that girl,” Prentiss stated the obvious, “Warrant or not she needs us.”
“We can't just bust in there. Especially if we're wrong-” Derek paused, a grin forming on his face, “Who is someone who can get into that mega mansion undetected and get out just as undetected?” 
“Someone who has done this before?” added Prentiss.
“And gotten away with it?” added JJ.
They all turned to Spencer, who looked at them in confusion. “What? I've never done that.” 
“Not you, Reid,” Rossi deadpanned, “Y/N.”
Spencer's eyes widened, “Y/N? Absolutely not! She's never done a house robbery before!”
Y/N, Spencer's lovely girlfriend, was a diagnosed kleptomaniac, who can't resist her urges to steal. Most of the time, it was stupid things like a pencil or a pack of gum. She usually returned what she had stolen. 
However, that was just most of the time. 
She had admitted to robbing a bank once (well, multiple times, actually, but the team didn't need to know that). And other robberies like stores and gas stations.
She was a master with her hands, able to steal within seconds without a single person noticing. 
“I'm not going to send her off to the home of the unsub.” Spencer said firmly, shaking his head.
“Reid, that girl is going to die unless we can find new evidence against him!” exclaimed Prentiss.
“As sad as that is, it's either her or my girlfriend,” Spencer said dryly, “And I don't know about you, but I'd like my girlfriend to live.”
“We will be right there. If she needs backup, we'll be there.” Rossi persuaded.
“Still, no.  Besides, she has rehearsal tonight.” Reid said firmly. 
His phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket to silence it.
Y/N.
“Gee, Reid, maybe you should answer.” Said Rossi.
“So you can harass her?” He scoffed.
“Reid's right, we can’t put Y/N in danger.” Said Hotch, “It’s unprofessional and dangerous.” Always the voice of reason.
“Then what do we do? We're going to have another body,” Derek pointed out. 
“Another body?”
Spencer jumped and looked down at his phone, noticing he was holding it so tightly he had pressed the ‘accept’ button. “Oh… hi, Y/N.”
“Hey, baby. What's going on?”
__________
Oh, he was going to shit his pants.
Well, he wasn't, but he felt like he was going to, his girlfriend sitting surrounded by the BAU as she viewed the blueprints of Richard Smith's home. 
“So I just have to go here?” Y/N asked, pointing at the room labeled ‘mechanic room’. “Easy enough,”
“It’s on the second floor,” Spencer reminded her, biting his bottom lip. 
“Yeah. Should still be pretty easy.” she looked up at him, “Baby, sit down. You look like you’re going to pass out.” 
“Because you’re going to infiltrate the house of the unsub!” he exclaimed. Was he the only one who thought this was crazy? That this was a terrible idea? “Hotch, would you let Hailey do something so dangerous?”
“Of course not,” Hotch answered honestly, “I think this is a bad idea too,” 
“Come on,” Y/N scoffed at them, “I’m like a pro at this.”
“You’ve never broken into people’s homes before,” Spencer huffed. 
“Actually, I have,” she noticed the looks the BAU members were exchanging, “A long time ago.”
“Kleptomaniacs steal from impulse. You broke into homes on impulse?” Rossi asked with a raised brow.
“Oh, no. That was for attention. Anyway…” Y/N looked down at the blueprints again, “Garcia, Imma need you to check to see if this guy has ever purchased an alarm system. Imma assume he has one, to keep all his rich people stuff safe.”
“I believe I saw a system when we searched the place,” JJ added helpfully. 
“Ah, look at that,” Reid said, “Guess she can’t break in,” 
“Of course I can. Don’t start doubting me now,” 
Holy shit, can’t she take a hint? He didn’t want her to do this. He wanted her at her rehearsal, safe and far away from Richard Smith. Unfortunately for Spencer, her rehearsal was cancelled, which was why she had called him in the first place. 
Y/N pulled him down to the seat next to her, an arm going around his waist as she began scribbling plans of execution all over the blueprints. "Relax," she said simply, which didn't help him relax at all.
“Don’t worry, pretty boy,” Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, “We’ll be right outside just in case. She’s not going to get hurt, even if she gets caught.”
“The only reason I’m allowing this,” Hotch pointed out, “...is because I believe she won’t get caught.”
“We value our jobs,” Rossi added.
“Think of it like this, baby: most of the times I got caught,” Y/N smirked, “It was because I wanted to be.”
______________________
The car ride towards Richard Smith’s home was silent. 
Spencer was seated in the passenger seat, being the Passenger Princess he was, arms crossed, staring out the window with his bottom lip jutted out.
“Baby,” Y/N said.
“Humph,” was what she got out of him.
“Baby,” she repeated. 
“What?” he finally faced her, arms still crossed over his chest. 
“I’m going to be okay,”
“Why did you even agree to this?!” he finally exploded, his anger and worry finally coming out in one swift motion, “That man is a serial killer! He could kill you! And if I lose you…” he huffed again, turning to look out the window once again.
“You’re not going to lose me,” Y/N’s free hand went to his knee, the other on the wheel, “Besides, even if I did meet my unfortunate demise, I’ll make sure to haunt you.”
“This isn’t funny!” he whined, looking at her again with those big, sad puppy dog eyes that literally always got him what he wanted from her.
But not this time. 
She chuckled softly, patting his knee, “Sorry, baby. Just trying to lighten up the mood.”
“It’s not working,” 
“I’ll buy you a really nice present tomorrow,”
“You can’t do that if you’re a ghost,” 
She hummed in response, “I’ll be a special ghost. You’ll know it’s me whenever you enter your apartment and somehow Girls’ Generation is playing,”
Finally, the corners of his lips curl up in a tiny smile, “Of course it’s Girls’ Generation. That’s how I know I’m really in a horror movie.”
“Whoa!” Y/N said dramatically, “Spencer Reid said a joke? A disrespectful one towards my queens, but a joke nonetheless!” she laughed, pinching his cheek. “I love you, baby. Never disrespect Girls’ Generation again, though,” 
A giggle escaped him, “Yes, ma’am, I love you too” his smile faded when she parked the car, a few blocks away from Richard Smith. “Oh. We’re here,” 
“Mhm, can you pass the equipment, please?” 
With a sigh, Spencer reached towards the backseat and grabbed a headband with a camera attached. Y/N held out a hand to take it but Spencer ignored her, putting it on her himself. His brows were furrowed in concentration, bottom lip puffed out as he adjusted the camera on her head.
“Stop being cute, it makes me want to make out with you,” Y/N grumbled. 
“Shut up, you’re going after the unsub, like you want me to have a heart attack. No kisses for you,”
“Okay, but like, if I do die and become a ghost, I won’t even need to haunt you, because the fact the last time I ever asked for a kiss, you denied me, and I die a few hours after will haunt you for the rest of your life.” 
“Stop it!” he huffed, hitting her shoulder, “You’re making me nervous!” 
“Does your team know you’re both demanding and abusive?” Y/N asked dramatically, rubbing her shoulder that didn’t even hurt.
“I'm neither,”
“You're demanding, a thousand percent. I guess you just save that for me.’
“No I don't!” 
Y/N laughed, cupping his cheeks, “I love you. I'll be okay. This ain't my first rodeo.”
She leaned in for a kiss but he huffed at her. “No kisses for asshole girlfriends.”
“Shit, baby, you're evil.” she giggled, “I guess I should hurry up and get this over with so I can get some, eh?”
“Youre not getting shit.” it was a venomous thing to say, but he giggled again, leaning in and giving her a kiss. He was never much of a playful person, but with Y/N it was different. She was different. And he quite liked it. 
“Ah, I'm such a bad influence, got you cursing all over the place,” she pinched his cheek lovingly before getting out of the car. 
The couple gathered with the rest of the BAU, cramped in the back of a van where Garcia had computers set up, typing away. 
“Alright,” she began, “We will be able to see everything you see,” she pressed a button, and the monitor changed, showing the side of Spencer's head, because that was exactly what Y/N was looking at. “There!” 
“Remember your task. Look for tapes, or any other sort of evidence while you make your way up to the library. Once in there, access the panic room.” Hotch began, holding up a USB-like device, “Insert this into the lock, and Garcia will be able to find the pass code for you. Remember, the main goal of this mission is to get Isabella out of there.”
“I got you,” Y/N grinned, nodding, “Easy peasy,” she turned to Spencer, who looked ready to vomit. “I'll be okay! Promise. Have I ever broken a promise?” 
Spencer looked up at her, plump bottom lip between his teeth, “No.” 
She smiled, cupping his cheek, “I don't plan on starting now,” she kissed his cheek before pulling away, “Time to commit some crimes.”
________ 
Once the alarm system was disabled, Y/N found herself opening a window and entering the mega mansion’s dining room. The BAU stood huddled together at the monitor, watching her work.
“Shit,” she smirked, picking up the fancy centerpiece, “This is fancy,”
Spencer groaned, saying into the mic, “Y/N, focus.” She was wearing an earpiece to hear any direction from the team. 
“Yeah yeah yeah,” she put the centerpiece down, “Find evidence. Got it.”
Fuck, he was biting at his nails, silently cursing out his team for coming up with this idea, cursing out Y/N for agreeing to this. He felt like vomiting. 
Y/N began searching around the first floor: dining room, living room, other living room (?), kitchen, and then… the first bedroom.
“I’m going to throw up,” Reid muttered, head in his hands. 
“The fun’s just started,” she said smugly, twisting the knob quietly. She entered the room, and Spencer realized he was holding his breath. 
Richard Smith’s daughter, Emma, was fast asleep in her bed, luckily with a pair of headphones on, easing Spencer’s worries somewhat. Y/N began rummaging through her things, looking to see if her father might have left something in her room. For all they knew, the whole family could be in on it. 
“Holy shit,” Y/N whispered.
“What?! What is it?!” Spencer exclaimed, feeling his hands begin to sweat. 
“Do you see Richard?” asked Hotch, brows furrowed, his usual unamused expression on his face. 
“Emma is a Sone!” 
“...a what?” Rossi asked.
Spencer, feeling second-hand embarrassment over his girlfriend’s words, explained, “People who like Girls’ Generation,” 
On the monitor, a musical album filled the screen, showing what Y/N was looking at. She held it, obviously observing it.
“Y/N,” Spencer said, lips uncomfortably close to the microphone, “Put that back. Please,”
“It’s an old album too,” she opened it up. 
Rossi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “This is what we can expect sending a kleptomaniac into the home of a very wealthy family…”
“Y/N,” Spencer repeated, “Put down the album. I will literally buy you that exact same album. Please focus,” 
Y/N gasped, making the whole team jump in worry. “She’s got Jessica!” she held a small cardboard album inclusion with a pretty woman on it to the camera on her forehead. “Jessica!”
He couldn’t believe this was happening. His girlfriend who was supposed to aid the BAU in catching a serial killer was busy ogling over her idol Jessica in said serial killer’s home. He couldn’t tell if he was horrified, embarrassed, or both. 
“We might have made a mistake,” Prentiss muttered as the team watched Y/N begin to shove objects into her bag. 
“This is stealing,” Spencer stated the obvious, trying to stay calm, “Put it back, Y/N,” he pronounced each word slowly, as if sternly speaking to a small child.
“Fine,” she huffed.
Spencer glanced at the team, “We’re going to have to pat her down when she gets out of there,” 
“Must be nice having a girlfriend you can’t even trust,” Rossi stated sarcastically. 
“Not now, Rossi,” Spencer groaned. He spoke into the mic again, “Y/N, I’m begging, please get on task.”
“Yeah yeah yeah,” she grumbled quietly, leaving the room, “No fun,”
“A girl might die,” Rossi reminded her dryly. 
“We’re going to get fired,” JJ added. 
“It’s going to be fine,” Y/N huffed, going into another room. “Trust me,” she began to go up a grand staircase, “Imma be this rich, baby, trust,” she whispered, obviously to Spencer.
“Legally?” Rossi deadpanned.
“Let’s focus on the task,” sighed Hotch. 
“Yeah, Rossi,” Y/n grumbled, “Let’s focus on the task,” she reached for a random decorative piece on the wall, her impulses taking over.
“Y/N,” Spencer said through gritted teeth, “Don’t,”
She paused, hands hovering over it, “Sorry, baby,” 
He sighed in relief, realizing he’s getting somewhere with her. She was starting to actually listen to him and fight the urges. 
“Good job, pretty boy,” Morgan said with a nod, “Keep her on task,” 
Spencer nodded, biting his bottom lip, “I’m trying,” He knew this was going to be the most stressful case of his life. 
It was a complete mess, a constant battle to keep her from stealing unnecessary junk throughout the abnormally large home. From diamond jewelery to magnets, this woman was struggling to not grab everything around her.
She finally made it to the library, and Spencer let out a soft sigh of relief. They were getting somewhere. However, so far, not a single piece of evidence was found. This was their last shot to prove their profile was correct. 
Y/N closed the door behind her, scanning the area. She began going through the desk, humming to herself as she looked for anything of use. She then paused, eyes on a small container of paper clips.
“Focus,” Spencer already knew what she was thinking. “Y/N-”
She snatched up a handful and placed it in her bag. 
“Y/N!” he groaned, “You do not need more paper clips.” That was the problem with kleptomania. She never needed the things she stole. It was a desire she couldn’t control (okay, sometimes it was for fun). There was absolutely no reason she needed a whole handful of paper clips. But her brain told her she did. 
Y/N ignored him, grabbing another handful and looking around the room again, “The mechanic room should be… here.” she gestured in front of her, a large bookshelf, “Oh my God is there like a book that when you grab it, it’s actually a lever, and it reveals the secret door to the secret room?” she started grabbing at books on the shelves excitedly. 
“We’re going to get fired,” JJ repeated.
Gripping another book, Y/N hooted in victory, the book not budging and making a clicking sound instead. She backed up, watching the shelf move, revealing a door. “Fuck yeah,” she took out the USB device and a screwdriver, getting to work on the passlock. Once it was open, she inserted the USB.
“My turn,” Garcia hummed, typing away on a monitor, “Okay, the code is 9-1-4-7-2.”
Y/N repeated Garcia’s words as she pressed the buttons, unlocking the door. “Moment of truth,” The large metal door began to open on its own, and Y/N entered the room, flashlight in hand. She began looking for a light switch, pausing when she saw a small bin. In curiosity, she went towards it.
“Look for evidence, not things to steal,” Spencer reminded her.
“No fun,” she opened the box, “Shit…” she held up an object to the camera, “...tapes.” She looked down at the tape again, reading it, “ ‘Fun with Hannah“
“Same handwriting as the unsub,” Morgan pointed out, “Same language use,” 
To confirm, Y/N picked up another tape. Fun with Katherine. 
“That’s what we need,” Hotch said, “These were before he decided to send them to families, so there’s a chance these aren’t edited and his face might be visible. Y/N, grab a few.”
“Jackpot,” she held up something else: a leatherbound journal with yellowing pages, “Journal,” 
“Okay, you got evidence. Get out of there,” Spencer said quickly. 
“We still need to find Isa-” Y/N’s eyes widened as she moved her flashlight, coming face-to-face with a girl bound to a chair, “Shit, fuck, shit, I’m like actually in the mega mansion of a serial killer,” 
“I’m going to throw up,” Reid gasped, biting at his nails again. 
“Untie her!” Hotch stated the obvious, trying to keep everyone from losing it, “Untie her and get out of there,” 
“Right, right,” Y/N reached for the girl, when she suddenly went, “Oh, shit!” 
Spencer’s eyes widened in terror as Y/N turned around, coming face-to-face with Richard Smith. Without a second thought, he shoved his gun into its holster and bolted out of the van, sprinting down the street. 
“Go, go, go!” Hotch shouted, the rest of the team barreling after the boy genius. 
Spencer was not a runner.  He was a terrible athlete. Yet he ran like a track star, his heart beating practically out of his chest with each step on the concrete. 
If anything happened to her, he wasn’t sure what he would do.
___________
“Hi there,” Y/N said casually, trying to calm her nerves in front of Richard Smith, the unsub, the killer of God knows how many young women, “Does your wife know about this little hobby of yours?”
From the profile given to her, Y/N knew he was narcissistic and full of himself. She had to keep him talking. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said simply. 
“I know,” she replied, glancing at poor Isabella Carson, who looked terrified, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. “You know, you did a great job here. How did you manage to not get caught?”
Richard looked at her in confusion, a brow raised in suspicion, “Excuse me?”
“How’d you do it? How’d you get away with it?” she asked
The serial killer smirked, leaning against a wall in the secret room, “You broke in here to ask about my killing methods?”
Y/N nodded, biting her bottom lip in an innocent way, “They’re admirable, actually. I’m sorry I didn’t go to you directly, I didn’t want to disturb your sleep.” 
A look of victory crossed the killer’s face, “No no, that’s fine. I just… didn’t think anyone was admiring my work.” 
A very rich man who made his riches by exploiting others. He was a dominant force, and needed to feel it. And Y/N knew this. 
“So how did you do it, Sir?” Y/N asked, “I want to learn from you,” 
Richard’s smirk grew as she spoke, “Learn from me, huh? Alright… well, my family is here at the moment but… some other time, I can absolutely teach you my ways,” his eyes flickered towards her chest, then her eyes again. 
“Well, I won’t bother you anymore,” Y/N said, inching towards the door, “I hope we can meet again-” Richard put his arm in the way of the door, and Y/N knew she was trapped. “Um, I’ll leave you be-” 
“No,” a devlish look appeared on his face.
“Yes,” without a second thought, her hand flew out of her pocket, and she was tazing his balls.
He did not like that.
“Okay.” she began as he shouted and crumbled to the floor, “Now my super hot FBI boyfriend is going to come arrest your ugly ass in three… two… one-”
“Y/N?!”
“There he is,” she grinned, turning over her shoulder, “In here, baby!” she called after him. 
Spencer came sprinting up to the library, “Y/N?! Y/N!” he threw his arms around her, “You’re okay,”
“Yeah,” she brought an arm around him, eyes on Richard Smith who was laid out on the floor, “I’m okay,”
_________
The rest of the BAU came in after, freeing Isabella Carson and arresting Richard Smith.
His family was not happy. 
Once outside of the mansion, Spencer conduced a pat-down of his girlfriend, removing all of the stolen objects from her bag and body. 
“Do you really have to steal everything you see?” he grumbled, finding some pens in her boot. 
“I can’t help it, baby,” 
“I know,” he sighed, standing up, “By the way,” he cupped her cheeks, “You’re not allowed to help on a case ever again,”
She laughed, pressing a kiss to his lips, “I don’t think crime solving is my thing anyway, darling,” 
“Good, I was terrified,” he nuzzled into her neck, “This job is stressful enough, I don’t need to worry about you as well,” he paused, “I still have to worry about you anyway.” 
“Am I really that much of a terror?” 
“A bit,” 
He then was called up by Hotch, so he gave her another kiss on the cheek before grabbing a box filled with the goodies she stole, walking off to him.
She waited till he was far enough away before, with a big smirk, she pulled out a card from under her sleeve. 
The Jessica Jung photocard she found.
_________
A few weeks later, the BAU sat together, viewing a case.
“I don’t understand,” Rossi muttered in thought, “How can these two rob these banks so easily? No weapons, they kill their victims an hour after with their bare hands. How are they doing this?”
“If only we knew someone who has robbed a bank before,” said JJ.
“With no weapons either,” said Morgan.
“And didn’t get caught,” said Prentiss.
All eyes went to Spencer.
“I’ve never robbed a bank before-”
“Not you. Y/N,” Morgan deadpanned. 
“Well, actually, she did get caught-”
“The first time,” Rossi corrected, “Garcia found some messaged between Y/N and a friend. She gave us printouts,”
Spencer sighed, rolling his eyes, “She’s always giving printouts,” 
“So,” JJ grinned, “Is Y/N busy?”
And that's how Spencer found himself with an annoyed expression in the corner of the office, the rest of the team huddled around the case's special consult, Y/N.
______
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flamingpudding · 11 months ago
Note
I'm back with a part 4 if you want to do it it's kind of more of a crack write I just need Klarion trying to explain the family tree
But not explaining how he was made at all So Young Justice and the Justice League are now convinced that a the Ghost King was a teenage parent who is now 27 years old and just passed college with a degree in astronomy and machinery
Klarion's other parent is a a crazy fruit loop 64 year old millionaire who went to college with Klarion's Mom parents who had an emotionally unhealthy obsession with his mom's mother and then it passed on to his mom.
And he has an older sister who is technicality a clone of his mom but also has the bastards DNA so fundamentally making Ellie Vlad Master and Mom's first born kid but there's six other siblings that Klarion had that died back a while back but Mom got granddad who's apparently the time lord AKA Cronos which is a whole another long story to go back in time and save those kids get them fixed up and now Klarion technicality has seven older siblings which all do their own things
And then he starts mentioning his uncle who is a 9 ft yeti his technicality auntie who is a medieval ghost princess who can turn into a dragon his auntie Pandora and his his grandfather cronos
My names for the six other clone children are Donald (he/him), Cecelia (they/she), Bartholomew(Them/They), Kyle AKA Bite(He/It), Brutus(He/They), and then there's Danna (She/Her) who actually really like the name Dan and asked Klarion if could have it when Klarion changed his name
Sorry if this is a little bit too much I've just really been thinking about au for this after the last part you made I hope this helps you with your writing or at least makes you laugh but I really love the idea of Danny's AKA somewhat clone children and finding their own personalities and and fighting themselves out of just being failed clone of their mom also I love the idea of Danny going back in time to save the rest of the clone kids cuz now he's a mature adult who wants to save their lives and wants them to grow into their own people.
(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)
I probably did way to much research into all the fandoms I am in to see what I could tie into this... And yet this feels shorter than it should but I also currently lack the time to add more. But for now I hope this will be satisfactorily.
Also this family tree idea especially the part of saving the melted clones. LOVE IT!
So even though it took me a while! here is Part 4 you inspired! Thanks so much for the ask!
------------------
"Dude, you are making us only curious!" Impulse spoke up as he sat down next to Klarion who had his head in his hands. "Like you and your mom can't just drop your family lore like that!"
The witch boy on the other hand looked up with narrowed eyes at the speedster. "What lore?"
"Let's see, the part that apparently a Vlad tried to kill your Grandpa to make friends several time. That your mom is 'ghost' adopted by the lord of time Cronos and Pandora, which makes us family too by the way, and that you have a sister that apparently is even crazier than what we got to know of your family so far." Wonder Girl counted off her fingers next to him grinning as she mentioned the part of probably being a part of his 'crazy' family too. Which hell yea, that sounded like a lot of fun to be explored she would have to talk with Wonder Woman about that as soon as possible.
"Also..." Red Robin added as he flipped through the photo album that apparently no one remembered he had. He was turning it around and pointed at a particular photo with a wild bunch of people in it that varied between more human and well... less humanoid people. One of them definitely was a Yeti and there was also what looked like living armor as well as Teekly (they knew that demon cat at least), a giant green dog and for some reasons there was a green aggressive looking Octopus in the background too. "...how are you related to a Yeti?"
"Hey that man there and those other teens in the picture actually have some resembles with you! Do you have older brothers too?" Superboy additionally asked as he moved around Red Robin to see the photo better pointing at a man that appeared to be in this late twenties, blue eyed, black haired and a little on the buffer side. If he didn't know any better and the fact that he should keep his mouth shut about their actual identities he would have jokingly asked Red Robin if his family would like to add more kids considering Klarions family apparently had a bunch of black haired blue eyed members too, judging by the photo at least.
"What are you talking about. That man is my mom and yes the others are actually my older brothers and that Yeti is uncle Frostbite who also happens to be the best medic in the Infinite Realms" The four teen heroes looked stunned at the picture and then back at the Ghost King that was smiling at them, still seated by the dinner table with their mentors. Who by the way were now perking up at the change of topic and the information they could gain with it, well Wonder Woman was more interested in the apparently extended family she had.
"Oh I remember we took this photo last year, it was such a hassle to get everyone into one place with them all being busy doing their own things." Danny mused for a moment, remembering fondly how he had to literally drag some of the kids home through a portal.
"It was more annoying than anything too since I was declared to be the youngest...." Klarion muttered also remembering that day not as fondly as his mother.
"Wait, wait, wait! That is a picture of your family? I need an explanation buddy!" Impulse cut in without shame, quickly removing the picture from the photo album to get a better look at it before holding it out to Klarion so he could explain all the individuals. "Plus why does your mom look soooo.... human?"
The witch boy on the other hand stared at him for a couple of seconds before looking over towards his mother as if waiting for something. After a moment the teen heroes as well as their mentors saw Danny nod with a little smile. "This dimension doesn't have the GIW so its fine, the Justice League Dark won't be a problem either, right?." Constantine flinched at the smile the Ghost King was giving him, muttering something under his breath as he had hoped his presence had been forgotten.
"Since mom is giving his okay...." Klarion mutter sitting crosslegged on the ground as he snatched the photo album from Red Robin and flipped through it. "Lets start with the easiest stuff to explain."
Danny chuckled noticing that not only the teen heroes but their mentors as well showed an interest. He choose to stay quiet letting the adults listen in on the kids, and if things went bad he would just ask Clockwork if they could revert time back to this moment and he would change his nod of permission to a shake of denial.
"Okay first of, this is my mom and his sister Jasmine, this is Danielle my older sister and that hulk with flaming white hair and blueish skin is me. That was before I got deaged because of destabilising." Klarion explained flipping to a photo of him, Danny, Jazz and Danielle. "Mom was around fifteen, Aunt Jazz about seventeen and Ellie should have been about a year old but she was aged up to twelve. They look human in this one because well they are. Mom was originally human and became what you call in this dimension a Meta through an accident."
"Wait... that would mean your mom... How could he have two kids at that age of fourteen? You look like an adult and your sister was aged up?" Wonder Girl couldn't help but ask as she looked from the photo and back to Danny at the dinner table again.
"That's cause Vlad was a fu-"
"Language Klarion!"
"Vlad was a fruitloop. That photo was taken shortly after Vlad and I sort of redeemed our selfs. Plus, mom didn't really have my sister and me willingly.... we were kind of forced upon him in a way." Klarion explained shrugging. "Old Man Vlad had an obsession with his mom that then turned on mom, which resulted in my oldest sister Danielle first. Actually, a lot of my elder siblings resulted from that, but they didn't survive it the first time, Mom got Old Man Clocks help to save them once he got used to being the Ghost King. I got added to the mix shortly after my sister, but... i wasn't in the best state of mind at first, kind of went through a redemption phase in which mom had to fix the timeline of our original home dimension, too."
Danny chuckled again at the disturbed looks the teens were giving his son as well as the looks their mentors sent him. He probably should correct Klarion's wording... but being one of the gremlins of his family he just smiled on, not commenting. He really understands now why Pops Clockwork liked watching the chaos he used to cause as teen, and still sometimes causes as adult.
"Klarion... how old is this Old Man Vlad?" Red Robin asked grimacing as his eyes under the mask flicked up to the Ghost King and then back to the witch boy both seemingly unbothered by the disturbing information they were sharing.
"In human years... probably around 67? You stop counting age at some point if your a halfa." Klarion shrugged, not noticing the grimaces of the teens around him. "Anyway, Ellie is sort of the first born. I came in after that, with my core being a mix of Mom and Vlad. Not DNA wise though since I came to be because of their ghost cores. That's why I look like that in this photo. Though human DNA wise I am probably now mostly Moms, we never bothered to ask the old man."
Danny muffled another chuckle, coughing as Superman sent him an incredulous look of shook while he felt Batmans burning gaze on him.
"You... mentioned more siblings?" Red Robin asked carefully sharing a look with his team, feeling like there was a whole lot of trauma in Klarions family he wasn't sure they should address or not. So asking after his siblings was probably, hopefully the safest option. They didn't know that while there was trauma in the witch boy's family it was not the kind they were imagining.
"Yea I got a bunch more brothers, Vlad was a evil crazy fuitloop, before he redeemed himself. They all kind of melted in one timeline but mom and Grandpa Clock found a way to save them." Klarion nodded flipping to another photo containing him, as he looked now, and all his siblings.
"So, Ellie you know about already. The one with the sunglasses and died hair is Bartholomew, second oldest. They made themselves a home in other dimension, barely at home cause he has to much fun messing with something called a 'Starstream' by being a 'Constellation' and throwing gold coins at 'Incarnations'. Don't ask me what that means, I barely pay attention when he gushes about his favorit 'Incarnation'. They spent like all their money and pocket money there. Aunt Jazz thinks he might develop a gambling addiction if we don't stop his spendings." The teen heroes eyed the teen that looked like a young adult grinning in the photo as the witch boy pointed at the one next to them. "The one with the vile is my elder brother Bite, most responsible one of this bunch. Mom even allowed him to take care of a couple of dimensions by taking the role of being their God of Death. I think he messed them up more than helped but he is doing a somewhat good job, even if he is sort of obsessed with making some red head his saint or something..."
"One of your sibs is a God?" Impulse gabbed and Klarion just blinked at him with a shrug. "My Grandfather is the ruler of Time, your point is? Wonder Girl is also related to a God of your dimension."
"Never mind him, moving on." A yelp resounded as Superboy pushed Impulse head down leaning in more to see the photo better. "You got one emo looking brother there!"
"Oh that's Yamikumo, he is like a year or two older than me right now, in human years. He barely got any of mom's powers so he choose to try to life a somewhat normal life but weirdly enough he choose a dimension that is ruled by people who have powers and abilities, you know like the Meta Humans of this dimension. Now that I think about it, he is also the only one who actually is studying on how to be a Hero."
"Do you end up fighting with him if he studies to be a hero?" Wonder Girl whisper asked him with a quick glance towards their mentors, to which Klarion shook his head. "As long as we leave the dimensions one of us choose to live in alone we usually don't fight about stuff like that, aside from the usual sibling fights that is. Then again I do have some siblings that like to make bets like who is better at ruling as demon lord, or who can safe a dying timeline quicker."
Danny chuckled again as he watched the kids, Klarion had definitely caused some misunderstandings with his wording. Then again it wasn't like Klarion said anything that wasn't true, but then again his son loved chaos. So there was a suspicion that Klarion intentionally choose the way he worded the explanation about how he and Ellie came to be as well as the rest of siblings.
"So....." Superman slowly started wondering how he should bring up the topic. "...you became a mom at 14?"
"Say Danny is there a way for me to meet this Vlad? You know since we are family." Wonder Woman also asked smiling in a certain way that reminded Danny of Valerie when she was mad but didn't want to show right away how mad she was, to which the Ghost King on reflex could do nothing but gulp for a moment. Not noticing that a green post it note appeared on the table before him.
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servantofthefates · 20 days ago
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I think we forget just how powerful witches of old are.
I have mentioned countless times how much I prefer traditional witchcraft to modern. But technically, my practice is incredibly modern compared to that of my ancestors.
Unlike me, they didn’t own tarot decks based on their favorite movies and TV series. They had the Rider-Waite and the Baraja Española.
Unlike me, they didn’t do Pick a Card readings on YouTube. Instead, they welcomed strangers into their home and cured their ills or read their palms.
Unlike me, they didn’t buy scented candles from Bath & Body Works. They made their own, and added herbs, flowers & peels for fragrance.
Even though I often look down on modern witchcraft because I don’t believe it to be as powerful, I am in truth, the least powerful witch in my lineage.
I still hear stories about how my grandfather stopped a fire with a handkerchief and a few Latin words. Meanwhile, I have been stranded in a supermarket, waiting for the rain to stop.
Forget the past generations — my own brother once buried a diamond amulet in his arm. I heard it was bloody. I would never. My amulet is a Scorpio necklace from Swarovski.
Only last month, my father saw me hiding a knife in my entryway for self-defense. He said, “If you’re really powerful, you won’t need that.” I told him, “But it's not for evil spirits. It's for bad people.” He said, “Same thing.”
My theory is that it’s my rational mind that keeps me from being as faithful to the old craft as my elders are.
But I think that’s who I am. I have my own brand of traditional witchcraft. I respect the old ways, but only so far as they don’t violate my understanding of the practical world. Maybe I’ll find other ways to become more powerful while still honoring how pragmatic I am.
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Yeah, maybe I will. Why not?
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trblsvt · 2 years ago
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in this life | choi seungcheol
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summary | honestly, you didn’t really care what choi seungcheol did anymore. but, when his mom called you saying there was an accident, you found yourself at the foot of his bed. genre | fluff, angst, hurt/comfort; exes!au warnings | swearing, mentions of hospitals, injuries from an accident (not life threatening), mentions of drinking, suggestive… for like a flashback, nudity (non-sexual and not descriptive), miscommunication possibly…, jealousy…, insecurities/self-doubt word count | 13.47k words pairing | choi seungcheol x fem!reader minli | lowercase intended i literally have nothing to say about this. sort of a monster to write. i had so many ideas for this, yet little brainpower to execute! it was a fun concept and the longest fic i’ve written for this blog… italics mean flashback or past event… update | i forgot a few things to tag under warnings, sorry :( they have been added
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you were doing great, just great. it started raining when you left your umbrella back at your apartment. you were late to work, and you spilled your coffee on the way out of the door. things were great, and it had been seven months since you and your boyfriend called it quits.
you’d like to say it ended in a big blaze of glory, something movie-like, but it was just the opposite. you had sat down with seungcheol and told him that you were unhappy. he was always too busy and refused to make time for anything other than his work. as for you, well you were tired. when you told him, he sort of just looked at you blankly and just shrugged.
he fucking shrugged. great. so that was it. you just stared at him blankly. he wasn’t even going to put up a fight. two years down the drain.
“so that’s it?” you had asked before you left.
“yeah, i guess so,” he had replied.
and that’s how it ended, you packed up your stuff and went back to your apartment. you technically weren’t living with seungcheol, you still had your lease and whatever, but you spent a lot of time at seungcheol’s.
you finally made it to the office and clocked in. nothing important was going on today which was nice, but also this meant your day was going to be endlessly boring. at least it was friday. 
you sat down and logged into your computer. “shouldn’t you change your home screen?” a voice startled you out of your thoughts of the hours to come. you spun around in your chair and stared at your friend minjeong. you looked between her and your computer screen. you knew what she was talking about, but you decided to play dumb. “what are you talking about?” you asked. minjeong sort of glared at you.
“that’s from your vacation to jeju,” she frowned.
the same vacation seungcheol took you on.
“yeah, it’s a sunset for jeju. what about it?” you huffed. she didn’t respond, just gave you a look. you knew that look. it was the “i know better than you, why aren’t you listening to me?” look. “seungcheol isn’t even in this picture,” you defended your screensaver.
“but seungcheol was there. that’s a memory with seungcheol,” she countered. she was right. you probably should’ve changed it, but whether it was with seungcheol or not, it was a nice picture. “yeah, it is, but we’re on good terms so what’s the big deal?” you blurted out.
there was the “you’re such a liar” look. “really? when’s the last time you talked to seungcheol since you broke up?” she entertained you even though you both knew you hadn’t contacted seungcheol once since you broke up. “well, it’s not like i keep track or anything, that would be weird,” you brushed her off. you could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “seriously, ___, i don’t think this is healthy for you to still keep remnants of your relationship with him around. it’s going to prevent you from moving on,” she explained.
“i know, just- just give me a little time,” you sighed.
“time? it’s been seven months! how about we go out tonight? you can get your sights on some new man. i think i overheard that changkyun is going out tonight at that new bar.”
“now why would i be interested in where changkyun is going tonight?” you scoffed. minjeong had a theory that changkyun had been crushing on you since he first joined the company, but you were too “lovesick” with seungcheol to see. “he’s so into you! i’m not saying to marry the guy, just take your mind off seungcheol. it’s his loss anyway,” minjeong laughed. 
you wanted to believe that, you really did.
you had every intention of going out with minjeong, but the day was going on so momentously, you weren’t sure if you could stand up straight for another second. you both had to unexpectedly stay longer and work overtime, and it might have been the death of you. you heard minjeong’s cheery humming coming around the corner. “are you ready to get absolutely wasted?” she smiled.
“i was going for more of a buzzed thing,” you yawned.
“oh no, don’t do that. you get so quiet when you’re tired before you drink,” she whined. you looked at her, but she was right. you had about three different moods when you were drunk. one, loud. two, quiet. three, insane. and most of the time, the way you ended up correlated to how you were feeling before you drank. you couldn’t explain it, but it just happened.
you were about to offer a clever rebuttal when your phone started ringing. “one second,” you didn’t even bother to check the caller id. “hello?” you replied.
“ah, ___ thank you for answering,” a familiar voice floated through the phone. you paused. you pulled your phone away from your ear and looked at the name on the call.
mrs. choi.
“mrs. choi, hello, i wasn’t expecting you to call me,” you said almost breathlessly. you glanced over at minjeong and she stared at you, wide-eyed. “___, dear. i’m so glad you picked up. i need you to come over,” she sighed. she sounded tired like she had been crying. wait. she wanted you to come over? for what? “come over? what’s going on? is everyone okay?” you asked, logging off your computer and placing the few things you took out of your bag, back into the bag.
“i have hope that it will be. seungcheol was in a car accident.”
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you apologized profusely to minjeong and left the office rushing to the seungcheol’s apartment. you knew the way to his apartment, to him, like the back of your hand. you punched the code in that bypassed the need to be buzzed in, and made your way to the elevator.
after you pressed the button to the fifth floor of the complex you felt your hands become inexplicably sweaty. why did you rush over here like a lovesick fool? you weren’t even dating him anymore. why did his mom call you? what was going on? the elevator dinged, alerting you that it was time to get out.
you made your way down to his apartment. 5-12. it looked the same since the last time you were there. you stared at the door. it had been so long since you had been there. your heart was beating so fast, you didn’t know what to do. so, you just knocked.
the door flew open almost instantly. “___, my dear, come in,” mrs. choi welcomed you warmly. you smiled and bowed slightly. when you stepped through the doorway your first instinct was to run away, but you couldn’t. you kicked your shoes off and followed mrs. choi in the direction of seungcheol’s bedroom.
she lightly grasped at your arm. “the car crash happened a couple days ago. we just got out of the hospital. he broke his right leg. it was jammed against the dash and steering wheel. he also has a bruised lung from the airbag, and a mild concussion from the collision,” she explained. you nodded. that sounded awful. where did he crash? did someone crash into him, or did he crash into someone else?
almost reading your mind, she added, “he didn’t hurt anyone else. it was raining the other day. it was dark and his car hydroplaned into a barrier. the cops thought it might’ve been a drunk driving incident since they found newly bought alcohol in the back of his car, but there wasn’t any in his system.”
you were still rendered speechless. seungcheol was the safest driver you knew. he always warned you about hydroplaning and what to do if it happened. why didn’t he do what he always told you?
you realized you were spaced out when mrs. choi rested a hand on your shoulder. “i was surprised that you didn’t come the other day, but seungcheol insisted that you were away on a trip of some sort. he didn’t want me to call you, but you’re his girlfriend! i had to tell you at some point, and you’re obviously back in town,” she exclaimed. “thank you so much for coming, ___. i don’t know where seungcheol would be without you.”
you’re his girlfriend.
what the fuck?
you certainly were not his girlfriend anymore. why did she think you were together? it had been seven months. mrs. choi was sharp, she wouldn’t accidentally slip and say you were his girlfriend unless that is if…
then it dawned on you. 
for whatever reason, seungcheol never told his mom the two of you broke up.
fuck.
seungcheol was sick. he was more than sick. he was hurt, physically. and his mom only wanted what was best for her son. she brought you here for something. you weren’t about to make this poor woman’s day worse by telling her you weren’t dating seungcheol anymore, so you played along. “yes, i just got back from a business trip. i always tell seungcheol to call me if something’s the matter. i’m so glad you called me, i wasn’t going to come over for another day or two because of his work schedule,” you pretended. she looked at you fondly. “i always knew you were a good one, ___,” she smiled. it pained you to lie to her, but it seemed like the best option for now.
“we just got back from the hospital a few hours ago. he’s all set up in there. i’m not sure if he’s awake now, but do you want to see him?” she asked. you nodded quietly. you didn’t know what you were going to do in front of seungcheol. you preferred not to think about it.
“before you go in, i have a large favor to ask you. i understand you’re a busy person, but if you could, oh my i feel so embarrassed to ask this. if you could stay with him for a while. take some time off and take care of him because i really cannot stay. my father is ill and i must return home to care for him,” she laughed bitterly. “i would stay, and i would never dream of dumping this sort of responsibility on just anyone, but you’re his girlfriend. not saying girlfriends and wives are only meant for taking care of husbands and boyfriends, but i know you care about seungcheol. i just thought it-”
“yes, i can do that,” you cut her off. why did you say that? “i can contact my manager and work remotely.” why do you keep saying things like this? suddenly mrs. choi’s arms were around you. “thank you, thank you, thank you, dear. i am so grateful for you, and i know my son is too. thank you! i must get going, but i already stocked the fridge. you can go in. once again, thank you so much. our family owes you so much,” she cried. you rubbed her back. “oh, don’t say that. you don’t owe me anything. i’m just happy he’s alright,” you whispered.
that was the first truthful thing you said in that entire interaction.
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when you entered the room, mrs. choi accompanied you. seungcheol was awake. he stared longingly out the window on the opposite side of the room away from the door. “honey, there’s someone here to see you,” mrs. choi called gently. you wanted to hide, so you tried to. partially behind her and you looked over her shoulder. seungcheol tried to adjust himself and he slowly turned over to look at his mother. “mom, i really didn’t want to see anyone-” he began, but his eyes met yours and he froze.
“oh come on, darling, it’s ___. she’s agreed to help out some. she cares about you,” she cooed. seungcheol looked like a child who got caught going through the cookie jar.
due to the dim light, you couldn’t really see that well, but you noticed the large soft cast that he had on his right leg. it looked like he was having a hard time breathing, that was the bruised lung. he had some cuts on his face that had already scabbed over, but you noticed some dark spots on his pillow, maybe he had been picking at them. he had a habit of picking at his scabs.
but the most striking thing to you was how pale he was. he looked like a ghost, which was strange since seungcheol loved to go outside to read or watch people. what had changed since you left? you noticed a wheelchair and a pair of crutches.
“mom, i- why did you call, ___? i told you she was busy,” seungcheol asked weakly. before his mom could nag him, you decided that you could save this entire situation from becoming more awkward than it needed to be. “cheol, don’t you remember? i came back yesterday, but i knew you were going to be busy with work,” you forced a smile. you thought you were going to throw up his mother grinned and squeezed your hand. she made her way over to seungcheol’s closet and started rummaging through it looking for something.
you looked back at seungcheol and it looked like he might cry. his eyes yelled at you, what are you doing here?
if you were honest you weren’t sure.
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you saw mrs. choi out while she continued to thank you profusely for looking about for seungcheol. “of course, no need to worry. seungcheol is safe with me,” you assured.
“what would i do without you, ___? i hope someday you can join the family officially. i mean you’ve been dating seungcheol for over two years now,” she grinned hugging you.
yeah, i did too, you thought.
she left and instructed you to just heat something up that she left in the fridge. you locked the door behind you and made your way into the kitchen. you pulled out a tray of noodles and plated them. she left you a few tips about seungcheol so you decided to look at it.
he has work off, so no need to worry about driving him to work. once he is better and the doctors clear his concussion can start working from home.
please make sure he is eating three meals a day. he’s been acting differently and hasn’t been eating as much.
for showers, there’s a cover for the cast because he can’t get it wet.  i set up a chair in his shower, so he should need minimal help in that area. maybe just changing.
pain medications are in the cabinet next to the fridge. dosage is two tablets every six hours. but, if he isn’t hurting that much give him one, or if he isn’t in any pain don’t worry about it. 
he has a doctor’s appointment in a couple of weeks to see how his leg is healing is progressing.
thank you so much <3 call me if you need anything
you frowned at the second one. not eating well? seungcheol always ate well. this seemed pretty manageable. you had already called your supervisor, who approved your request to work remotely. you did have to lie and say you were taking care of a family member, but otherwise, it was a mostly truthful story.
when you put the sheet down, the microwave had finished and you brought the plate into seungcheol’s room. he wasn’t looking in your direction, instead, he was looking out the window. “seungcheol, i brought you dinner. your mom made it,” you announced. no response. you huffed and looked around the room. you didn’t want to push him, but you needed him to eat. “i know you’re not sleeping. you’ll heal faster if you eat. your mom needs you to eat,” you continued. yet, to no avail, he still stared out the window, body closed off to you. you sighed, you wished it didn’t have to come to this. “seungcheol, i need you to eat. please, for me,” you pleaded. there was a slight shift, but still no response. “well, i’ll just leave it here, but eat it soon. it’ll get cold,” you sighed, placing the plate on the nightstand where he could reach it.
why did you sign up for this? it wasn’t like you owed him anything. why didn’t you just tell his mom you were broken up? so many questions were flooding your mind, so you almost missed his whispered question. “what, did you say? i’m sorry, i missed it,” you asked, turning around from the door.
“do you- do you have something to eat?” he asked, breath labored.
something in your heart stuttered.
you silently nodded.
“that’s good,” was all he said.
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it was almost 9:00 pm. you had your plate of food, and you thought it would be best to run over to your apartment to pick up some clothes and belongings, especially since you were supposed to live here for a while. you would run in and check with seungcheol and let him know you were leaving and then you’d be back in thirty minutes.
you knocked on the door, but no response. you hoped that it wasn’t going to be like this for the rest of his recovery. “i’m coming in, seungcheol,” you called opening the door.
but when you entered you were met with an empty bed. your eyebrows furrowed. you noticed the empty plate of his dinner. then you noticed his wheelchair was gone, and the faint glow of light from under the bathroom door.
you didn’t hear the shower running, so maybe he was just using the bathroom. yet, something in your gut told you otherwise. you made your way over to the bathroom door and pressed your ear against it. you heard quiet sniffling.
oh.
“seungcheol? are you in there?” you asked. dumb question, but you didn’t know what else to lead with. no response. “seungcheol, are you okay?” obviously not. “seungcheol, if you don’t answer me, i’m coming in.”
“no, please. please don’t come in,” he responded finally. “i’m fine.”
“no you’re not. i can help, seungcheol. let me help. what’s going on?” you called. there was a hesitation before he spoke, “i- i don’t know how to do this.”
“what is this?” you asked again for clarification.
“cleaning. i don’t know to do it with this thing on my leg.” that made sense. you already knew he was going to need help with that. you just wished he would’ve come to you first. “can i come in?” you hoped he would say yes.
“no,” he said.
“why not?”
“i don’t want you to see me like this.”
“this isn’t the time to act modest. i’m here to help.” there was a deep sigh on the other side of the door. finally, you heard some shuffling and the door was open. you walked in and took in your surroundings. seungcheol was without a shirt and pants. he sat slumped in his wheelchair as he quickly tried to wipe his tears.  you saw some bruises that covered his abdomen. you also noticed how he looked skinnier. that must be why his mom wanted to make sure he was eating. the cover for his cast was sitting on the counter, so you grabbed it.
you knelt down next to him, he wasn’t looking at you. you looked into the shower and noticed the shower chair. “seungcheol, i’m gonna put a towel under you right now, so can you lift yourself up a little?” you said grabbing a towel to put onto the seat of the wheelchair. he did, and you tried your best to arrange it. “can you stand at all?” you asked. he huffed and pushed himself up, and used you as a brace. 
you guided him into his walk-in shower and helped him sit down. you paused and looked at him closely. he looked so tired, which was expected, but there was something else there. you just couldn’t put your finger on it. “i need you to take off your underwear, unless you want to shower in them,” you directed. he glared at you and mumbled something. “what was that?” you asked.
“i don’t-” he began.
“now is not the time to be modest,” you chided. 
“no! i don’t want you to see me like this! i don’t want you to see me all broken and bruised! it’s not right that my mother asked you to do this! just leave! i know you don’t want to be here, so just go. it’s already humiliating enough,” he heaved. you felt your jaw tighten and your fingers clawed at your sides. you didn’t want to respond to that, at least not at that moment. “take off your underwear, seungcheol,” you ordered, crossing your arms. he finally looked at you in your eyes, and he pushed his underwear off. you had to help him get it over his cast, but otherwise, it was seamless. next, you grabbed the cast cover which was essentially a glorified plastic bag, and slid it over his bandaged leg. 
seungcheol’s eyes were downcast again, and he refused to acknowledge you. his shower head was detachable and handheld, so you took it down and placed it closer to him. he still wasn’t looking at you. although you really needed to get some stuff from your apartment, you could stay. when you started rolling up your sleeves on your work blouse and slipping out of your house slippers, seungcheol stared at you incredulously. you stepped into the shower and turned on the water. you made sure the head was facing the ground as you waited for it to warm up. “what are you doing?” he asked. he almost sounded angry, but that could be addressed later. you snatched the washcloth that was hanging on a hook inside the shower and found his shampoo and conditioner. he leaned over and grabbed your wrist, it wasn’t harsh or forceful, just him. “what are you doing?” he repeated.
“taking care of you,” you said shortly. “now close your eyes. tell me if it’s too hot.” he released your wrist and there was that look again. you had to figure out what that was about. you raised the shower head and soaked his hair, and promptly began to lather his shampoo into his hair. he seemed to relax at that. you ran your hands through his hair like you used to. he liked it when you tugged at his strands. it brought him a comfort he couldn’t describe. yet, his hair was shorter now, not the longer strands that you were used to. you wondered what made him cut it, but you knew now wasn’t the time to ask about it. 
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the rest of the shower went without any hitch. your hands running over the broad expanse of his back. something about that moment was so domestic, intimate, yet you knew you couldn’t have it the way you wanted it. the way you wanted him. so, you pushed it down, just like the way you did when you noticed him distancing himself from you and drowning himself in his work. 
you helped him get into some clean clothes and bed after he brushed his teeth and dried his body. after you brought him his pain medication with a glass of water to stick next to his bed, you were about to go out and run to your apartment. he saw you rustling around in your bag that you left in his room. “what are you doing?” he asked.
“looking for my keys,” you replied.
“why?”
“so i can go home and grab some things. i’ll be working from home, i mean, i’ll be working here while i help you.” god, why did you call his apartment home? it hadn’t been your home for so long. “i’ll be back soon. i’ll be quiet when i come back so just sleep.”
“no, don’t go.”
“pardon?”
“don’t go.” he stared at you like a petulant child. was this a symptom of a concussion? “seungcheol, i have to go get some of my things. i don’t really want to sleep in my work clothes,” you tried to reason with the pouting man. 
“you left some of your clothes. t-shirts and stuff. sweatpants. just wear that. it’s too late for you to leave now. it wouldn’t be safe,” he shrugged but winced. that was the bruised lung. you didn’t know you left your things over, if you did you would’ve made one more trip to pick them up. 
but…
seungcheol didn’t throw out the clothes you left behind. was he stashing them in case he had another girl come over that needed to borrow clothes? was he saving them for a special time to burn them? why did he keep your clothes? 
no matter, it was no use arguing with seungcheol, and you were tired. you hadn’t even had time to process the fact he had been in an accident, to begin with. “where?” you asked turning back around.
“in my closet, where your clothes usually are.” he looked at you like it was obvious. why would it be obvious? you wanted to scream. a normal person after a breakup usually burns the things their ex left behind, or they maybe just throw them out on the street. they don’t keep it in the same place in the closet. you breathed deeply to calm your mind. now was not the time to address the elephant in the room. “i’ll be getting a shower then,” you said, eyeing him suspiciously. he just nodded and turned to face the window. 
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the shower was uneventful other than the thousands of thoughts flowing through your mind. you hoped that they would leave you and flow down the drain. when you finally got out of the shower, you realized you would have to walk through seungcheol’s bedroom to get to the couch. hopefully, he was knocked out. you slid on the clothes that you had left there. it was an old sweatshirt and pajama bottoms, but it would get the job done for the night. the smelled like they were cleaned with his detergent, and you weren’t sure if you loved it or if you wanted it off of your body forever. you tried the best you could to open the door as quietly as possible, and it seemed to work. you were basically out the door without seungcheol waking up or noticing you. that is until he did. “where are you going?” he asked. you hung your head, your hand leaving the doorknob. “to the couch,” you replied.
“why?”
now, there was something seriously wrong with him. you glanced around the room, searching for an answer. “because i’m going to sleep on the couch,” you scrutinized him a bit further. he stared at you with the same confusion. he seemingly picked up on the mutual tension and confusion in the air, “i’ll sleep on the couch, you sleep here,” he clarified. you choked on air. he must have more than a concussion, he had amnesia of some sort because you don’t just let your ex sleep in your bed, especially after you had been in a serious accident. 
you had to snap yourself out of the trance you were in before seungcheol could even attempt to get out of bed, which he was already in the process of trying. rushing over to him and pushing him back under the covers was more of a feat than you thought it was going to be. he seemed adamant about having you stay in his bed while he went to the couch. you were getting deja vu or something to the fights leading up to the end of your relationship. 
“no, i’ll take the couch,” he had insisted.
“no, this is your home and your bed. i’ll just stay on the couch since you don’t want me to go to my apartment,” you had refused. “talk in the morning?”
“yeah sure.”
“no, you’re the guest here, i’ll take the couch,” he shrugged, once again trying to push himself up. you placed a hand on his shoulder. “seungcheol, i wasn’t the one in a car accident,” you reasoned. “you won’t be comfortable on the couch.”
“just- just let me do something for you,” he muttered under his breath. you don’t think you were supposed to hear it, but you did. 
“the best thing you can do for me is to sleep in your own bed and heal.” his gaze lifted and looked at yours. he looked utterly exhausted, and to be honest, you probably looked the same. he inhaled deeply and sat back against his headrest in concession. you smiled at him and before you could stop yourself, you ran your hand through his hair which he happily accepted. “good night, seungcheol,” you said.
“good night,” he replied sounding more at ease. in another lifetime, there would be more to this than a simple good night, but in this lifetime it was different. so much different than you ever hoped for.
“i love you, cheol.”
“i love you too, ___.”
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the crick in your back was going to be the death of you, but oh well, you already called into work and took the next week off before you started working remotely. minjeong was surprised that you even agreed to this in the first place. “___, he was an asshole to you,” she pointed out over the phone. you were currently lugging your stuff down the hall to seungcheol’s apartment, phone dangerously stuck between your shoulder and cheek. “he wasn’t an asshole,” you argued. for some reason, the need to defend seungcheol still ran through your veins. 
“he was, ___. he was,” minjeong sighed. you knew that she was right, but you needed to believe that the breakup was caused all just a big misunderstanding and move on. “i’ve got to go, minnie,” you sighed reaching seungcheol’s doorway.
“___, don’t- ugh, don’t do anything you’ll regret. he didn’t treat you right. he wasn’t toxic, but he was definitely neglectful to you,” she groaned.
“it’s not like i’m going to crawl back to him. i’m just helping him.”
“but why should you?”
seungcheol had some bad habits, and it didn’t always end up well for you.  
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“cheol, what are you-” you were promptly cut off when seungcheol pressed his lips against yours with an energy that felt unfamiliar. it was just the average evening, so you didn’t understand why he was kissing you like that. not that he had to have a reason to kiss you, it’s just that it hadn’t happened in so long. you had been with him long enough to know how passionate he was about, well, everything. but, this felt different. not saying it was bad. you craved him being this close for weeks, and he was finally in your grasp.  his hands were planted firmly on your waist and he moved you to where he pleased. “come on, baby, just let me feel you,” he smiled against your lips. 
call you touch-starved (which you were), but you couldn’t help melting into him. this was the most attention you had felt from him in so long. “cheol, please,” you gasped as his lips traveled down your neck. he pulled you infinitely closer and you let him. yet, something was nagging at you. your stomach began to drop as his hands began to slide under your shirt. sinking suspicions started to bubble up through your heart. “cheol, kiss me,” you begged, not wanting your thoughts to be true. he hummed and obliged. he pressed his lips against yours in this new fervor. the heat between you was becoming unbearable as your suspicion was correct. 
beer.
the faint taste of it lingered on his tongue, and it made you want to throw up. for the first time in who knows how long, he touches you like he’s never done before but only because he’s intoxicated. great. you pushed him away. “did you drive home by yourself?” you asked gazing into his tired eyes. 
“no, i had joshua drop me off,” he murmured, hands still not leaving your skin, but that’s all you wanted him to do. just get off of me, is what you wanted to yell. how dare you come here drunk and treat me better than you ever have sober for the past months, is what you wanted to scream. “i think it’s time for you to go to bed, cheol,” you opted for instead. he shook his head still grasping at you. “don’t touch me anymore, seungcheol,” you hissed, swatting his hand away and pulling him to his bathroom.
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she didn’t sound angry, just exasperated. she had a point. there was no reason why you should offer your help to him. seungcheol never made time for you when you were together, why were you making time for him yet again? it was major deja vu. “look, he wasn’t nice to me, yes. i hated him for a long time, maybe i still do. but, his mom called me, so i feel like i’m doing it for her. not for him,” you attempted to justify. minjeong scoffed. it was a deserved scoff, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. minjeong was there when things ended with seungcheol, so she would know the entire situation from the most unbiased, well sort of unbiased, outside position. she was your friend, and it was only natural for her to want to protect you. you couldn’t fault her for that. “i just want what’s best for you, and i’m not convinced helping him through recovery is the best plan,” she sighed.
“i know. you know he hurt me, i won’t let it happen again. i have no intention of getting back with him. you’re right. he was an asshole. i’ve got to go. talk later?” you asked carefully reaching for the spare set of keys his mom gave you.
“let me kick his ass if he hurts you again.”
“i will.”
“talk later! i’m going to miss you at work. love you!”
“love you too.”
after you successfully hung up without dropping your bags, phone, or keys, you opened the door to the kitchen light on. that’s weird. you were pretty sure you left it off when you went to get your stuff. you kicked off your shoes and made your way into to kitchen, your luggage bag dragging behind you. 
you were greeted by seungcheol attempting to push himself up from his wheelchair to wash some fruit in the sink. “seungcheol! what are you doing?” you rushed to his side. he glanced over his shoulder at you. he sort of gave you some dumb look like he didn’t know what was wrong. “you shouldn’t be pushing yourself like this,” you chided. “i can wash these. you need to go back to bed. you should rest.”
“i think i can handle washing some fruit,” he scoffed slumping down in a chair. you rolled your eyes. “it’s not about washing fruit, i know you’re perfectly capable of washing fruit. you were in a car accident a few days ago. you shouldn’t be pushing yourself to get up,” you explained. he just mumbled something under his breath and tried to maneuver his way out of the kitchen. you watched him carefully as he made his way back into his room, and you heard him sigh when he shut the door behind him. 
you had a sinking feeling that this was going to be a long recovery process, for the both of you.
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it once again time for seungcheol to go to the doctor. the past few weeks had been back and forth to doctor’s appointments. his concussion was going down. to say things were going well would be a stretch. seungcheol barely spoke to you. you didn’t necessarily expect him to be buddy-buddy with you, but it was strange. he always tried to avoid looking at you. you weren’t sure what you did to deserve this treatment, after all, he was the one who broke up with you.
sleeping on the couch for the past weeks was not ideal. working from seungcheol’s home office was not ideal either. it was weird getting on video calls when you were so used to walking to meetings with minjeong. seungcheol tried his best to not disturb you, but sometimes he would knock on the door and sheepishly ask you for help with something.
the drive to the doctor’s and the check-up itself were uneventful. his leg was healing nicely, and they even decided it was time for a boot, which was great because you could tell he was getting sick of sitting down all the time. “well, mr. choi, it looks like your lung is looking a lot better based off of the scans, and according to your…” dr. hwang paused looking in your direction. seungcheol looked at you briefly like was afraid of what you were going to say. 
you weren’t necessarily worried about getting kicked out because you weren’t immediate family, but for some reason, you chose against saying you were his friend. “i’m his girlfriend,” you bit the bullet. you hoped it didn’t seem too unnatural when you said it. you saw seungcheol’s ears perk up, but he still didn’t address you. 
dr. hwang looked between the two of you seemingly wanting to say something but didn’t. “ah, i see. well you’ve been taking amazing care of mr. choi. according to your girlfriend, you seem to have an easier time breathing. she also said you’re reporting less pain in your head. this is good, since we usually expect swelling and inflammation from a concussion goes down pretty quickly. your concussion should be largely gone by next week, but i would advise against going back to work for some time. you can start walking on this as soon as you feel comfortable, until then use crutches. but, don’t drive until i give you the okay,” dr. hwang rambled, turning back to his computer. 
you could tell seungcheol was excited, maybe he was excited that you would be leaving soon. your stomach sank at the thought, but you didn’t know why. seungcheol barely spoke to you, he couldn’t even look you in the eye most of the time. so, why did you feel bad about the thought of leaving him? you were snapped out of your thoughts when you realized dr. hwang had asked you a question. “um, if you could give me a moment alone with mr. choi, that would be great. i can take him out front once we’re done,” dr. hwang fiddled with his pen as he addressed you. 
“yeah, of course. i’ll uh, i’ll just be in the waiting room. 
after what seemed like an eternity, the two of them came out. dr. hwang smiled at you, and seungcheol looked nervous, finally putting a little weight on his foot with the help of some crutches. “thank you so much, dr. hwang. you’ve been so helpful,” you smiled at him. dr. hwang reciprocated it and patted seungcheol on the back. “mr. choi, look out for yourself. i’ll see you in a few weeks,” he said. seungcheol nodded. 
the ride home was quiet, as always. by now you had grown used to it. when you arrived at seungcheol’s apartment and parked the car, he grabbed your hand before you could leave. “do you want to watch a movie tonight?” he asked. hold on, what? “we can order some take out or something.” maybe dr. hwang was wrong. maybe the swelling in his brain was actually worse. 
your lack of response must’ve freaked seungcheol out. “we don’t have to! i was just thinking it could be a celebratory thing,” he tried to backtrack. 
“no! i’d love- no, i mean, i’d like to watch a movie tonight. that would be nice,” you rushed to cut him off. your heart fluttered at the notion of watching a movie with seungcheol. maybe you could pretend just a little longer…
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“what?” minjeong exclaimed. she was not happy with the current situation. 
“minnie, when he asked me if i wanted to watch a movie with him my heart fluttered. what’s wrong with me?” you cried, flopping against the couch, turning down the volume on speaker phone. seungcheol had left to get showered and changed. luckily, you didn’t have to help him much with that anymore. “you’re still in love with him, ___,” minjeong sighed. “i feared this would happen. you cannot let him get in your head! remember how he treated you before! just yesterday he wasn’t even speaking with you, he’s probably just manipulating you or something.” 
you couldn’t fathom him doing that. sure, he neglected you in your relationship, but he was never manipulative. “i don’t-” you began, but you were promptly cut off.
“you don’t get it, ___! you’re in a vulnerable state because you still love him and you’ve been waiting hand and foot to him, so he sees this as an opportunity to make something out of nothing.”
“if i love him, how is it nothing?”
“because you’re going to make it nothing. you can’t just let yourself fall back into his lap because he decided he wanted a movie night!”
“i don’t think it’s that easy.”
“you’re right, it’s not. that’s why you need to wrap up business there and get back to your life. your life where you can be free and meet whoever you want. where you don’t have to worry about the asshole who treated you like shit.”
“he didn’t treat me like shit.”
“he treated you like you barely even existed.”
you knew she wasn’t trying to be mean, but it did feel like she was opening an old wound. 
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so much for that dinner you made. the time you wasted was eating at you as you picked through the remnants of your food. it was your first day off in a while and you hoped to spend some of it with your boyfriend before having to go back to work the next day.
 it was your bad to even think seungcheol would be home at the time he had said. you stared at seungcheol’s now cold meal. for the fifth time, you flipped your phone over to see what time it was. 11:47 pm and no word from him. you sighed and went to clear your plate. you wrapped up seungcheol’s meal and put it in the fridge. after all, he would be hungry when he got home. 
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“hello? ___, are you still with me?” minjeong snapped you out of your thoughts.
“yeah, sorry,” you rushed out. “look, i think seungcheol is almost out of the shower. i’ve got to go. i’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“i’m sorry if i come off too cold.” she sounded like she was regretting what she said earlier. she knew how to read you like a book even if it was just over a phone call. “it’s alright. you’re my best friend, i know you wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt me. now, i have to go now, for real this time,” you chuckled and hung up after you said goodbye to her. 
you jumped a mile when you heard a clanking noise behind you. when you whipped around you saw seungcheol standing there, eyes wide, you felt something stir in your chest. he was leaning on a crutch with his leg wrapped in the bandages. he told dr. hwang that he wouldn’t wear the boot to bed. dr. hwang was reluctant but relented since the break was healing nicely and the boot wasn’t needed at night. his hair was damp, a plain white t-shirt clung to his body, and pajama pants hung loosely off his hips. something about this image looked so familiar, yet so distant.“sorry,” he mumbled leaning over to pick up the bowl he dropped, surprisingly it didn’t shatter on the hardwood floor. “no, wait, i’ll get it,” you said, pushing forward, frowning at the precarious nature of his stance. he straightened up and watched you pick up the bowl. “how long were you standing there? i could’ve helped,” you asked turning to go place the bowl in the sink.
“not long,” he rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “do you still want to watch a movie with me?” you nodded quietly and made your way to the couch. he followed behind and landed on the couch with a thud. “what do you want to watch?” you asked flipping the tv on.
“um, i’m not sure. i haven’t watched a lot of movies lately.” he shrugged. this was going to be harder than expected. instead of attempting to engage in this painful discussion, you opted to start scrolling through one of seungcheol’s million streaming apps. 
you scrolled through movie after movie with varying enthusiasm levels from seungcheol. “stop, let’s just watch this one,” he suddenly said. if you were being honest, you stopped paying attention to the movie titles a long time ago. so when you saw “the notebook” as the selected movie, your jaw slackened. “you want to watch this?” you asked, making sure he meant that. 
“i mean, i remembered when you showed me it, and i rewatched it recently. i really like it nowadays,” he said nonchalantly. you had shown him “the notebook” a long time ago. you had to beg him to watch it, and you remembered how he ended up crying by the conclusion. but now, it was strange to hear that he enjoyed the movie. not only that, but he remembered that you showed him the film. it was years ago, and he remembered. “okay, yeah, let’s watch it,” you said pressing play. 
you were getting major deja vu while you watched it. seungcheol was curled up next to you, and somehow you found yourself curled up next to him. this hardly happened when you were together, and it made your heart hurt that it was happening after you had broken up. was a car accident what you needed to be close to him? you didn’t need to think about it now, not when you could smell his shampoo and fabric softener. it was so familiar, but you knew you couldn’t get too comfortable. after all, you weren’t his anymore, and he wasn’t interested. yet, something was scratching at the back of your throat. an urge. a desire. a feeling you thought was better to push down.
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 the movie was long over, but seungcheol had drifted off to sleep about twenty minutes before the movie ended. you didn’t have the heart to wake him, so you let him rest for a while before you lightly shook him awake. his eyes fluttered open and held your gaze with an expression you couldn’t pinpoint. “alright, sleeping beauty, time to get you into bed,” you smiled softly involuntarily running a hand through his hair. he seemingly leaned into your touch while looking around. “is the movie over? why didn’t you wake me?” he asked. you just shushed him quietly and helped him up. he held onto your shoulders and let you guide him to his bed. after a bit of work, you got him under the covers and on his pillow. when you moved to get up, his hand shot out and grasped your wrist. your neck whipped back at him. “what’s wrong?” you quizzed. 
“stay,” is all he said, eyes closing. 
you sighed. you couldn’t give in to him. you had set your boundaries, you were here to help that’s all. but, the longer you were with him, you realized the reasons why you hated him melted away within hours of being around him more. minjeong needed to be here to snap you out of it. “of course, he’s being nice to you now. don’t forget why you broke up in the first place,” she would’ve said. yet, she wasn’t here, and you were weak for him. as much as you would like to deny it, you knew you’d always crawl back to him. in this life and the next. 
there couldn’t be any harm in staying with him, right? it was just one night. he wouldn’t try anything. he wasn’t like that. he didn’t even feel that way for you anymore. he definitely didn’t seem too bothered when you gave in and slid under the covers with him. to your surprise when you started to situate yourself, you felt his arms wrap under your body and pull you to the opposite side of the bed. just like old times. he always insisted to sleep closest to the door. he had told you it was a win-win for the both of you. he could have the comfort of feeling like he was protecting you, and you got the nice view out of his window on the opposite side of the room. you assured him back then that you didn’t need protection, but you never fought with him to switch positions. 
you had grown used to his arm around your waist each night, and after you broke up you longed for his presence. you had cuddled your pillows and called minjeong. everything and anything to keep your mind off the empty space in your bed. so, now when you felt his arm wrap around you and his body pressed against yours, you froze. why did the thing you wanted for the past seven months cause you so much discomfort? being this close to him was like stepping into the salty waves at the beach with a cut you thought healed. your eyes began to sting, and you pleaded with your heart to not start shaking your body. you naturally moved closer to him when his grip became tighter around your waist, but your heart cried for the rest of the night.
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when you woke up, you surprised yourself realizing you had a dreamless night. your chest hurt, but your eyes were dry. you turned over and noticed seungcheol’s side of the bed was empty. his boot was gone, so he must’ve put it on. you didn’t hear anything coming from the kitchen right outside the room, albeit his apartment was quite small and his living room was right there too. you slid on a hoodie and made your way out of his room to find where he went. maybe he was just as freaked out as you were, so maybe he just left to get some air. if you were him, you probably would’ve done to same. you wanted to kick yourself for falling into his lap again. maybe he regretted inviting you to stay, and now he was disgusted with himself for letting his ex sleep in the same bed as him again. your rational mind told you that wasn’t true. he wasn’t like that. yet, that’s what you told yourself when he show up late to numerous dates or just forget to message you. 
you heard quiet arguing as soon as you stepped out of his room. you looked down to the front door and saw seungcheol leaning against the doorframe. his body wedged between the door and doorframe, effectively blocking your view of who was there. you quietly shuffled forward, trying not to startle him. “i just don’t understand why you’re here?” seungcheol asked, almost sounding stern.
“i’m just dropping off some paperwork,” the person on the other side of the door said. the voice sounded familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. “how’d you know where she was?” seungcheol grilled, sounding more frustrated with every passing second. 
“look, dude, i’m just here to drop off some stuff from work. minjeong told me,” the guy tried again to reason with seungcheol. you recognized seungcheol’s tone, he got like that whenever he was jealous, but you couldn’t fathom why he would be jealous. you looked past seungcheol and saw changkyun standing there with a case file in hand. “oh my god, seungcheol, stop it. this is changkyun from work,” you nudged seungcheol to the side trying not to surprise him, but you were still upset he was berating your work friend. 
“oh, hey, ___. minjeong sent me with these files. let me or minjeong know if you need anything else,” changkyun smiled at you. “i’ll let you go, you seem- um- preoccupied. but, we miss you at the office,” he glanced at seungcheol who was scowling at the ground. 
“yeah, sorry about that. thank you for bringing this around. this is super helpful. i was getting tired of reading pdfs,” you laughed. “i’ll see you later.” changkyun nodded and left without another word. you shut the door and brushed past seungcheol. you heard an audible huff behind you but ignored it. after you dropped off the case of files in the office, breakfast was seemingly the best option for you. 
seungcheol was already in the kitchen leaning against the fridge. it was highly inconvenient given you needed to get in there for some fruit. however, he wasn’t moving. “what are you doing?” you asked crossing your arms. he didn’t respond, just looking anywhere but at you. “what’s going on with you? what was with that attitude with changkyun?” you grilled, but you were only met with a scoff. now, that was weird. he sounded jealous, but there was nothing to be jealous of. “what’s wrong with you?” you frowned. 
“why does it matter?” he mocked. you squinted your eyes at him. compared to last night’s situation, this was an entirely different person. “why does it matter? it’s just weird that he’d show up here unannounced,” seungcheol shrugged. 
“he was here because minjeong sent him,” you stared him down.
“why couldn’t she come then? just seems like it’s a cover for him to see you. you didn’t tell me you were talking with someone else.”
“because i’m not talking to changkyun. i’m not talking to anyone. but, why does this matter so much to you? it’s not like he came in the house and started wrecking anything. he just dropped some stuff off.”
“we miss you at the office.”
“what?”
“that’s what he said.”
“i’m not following.” 
seungcheol sighed and pushed himself off the fridge and over to his chair, groaning and stretching his leg once he was sitting. “god, ___, don’t be blind. he’s obviously into you,” he laughed humorlessly. now you were even more confused. “so what if he is? i’m not,” you shrugged, opening the fridge to get your fruit and yogurt. 
“yeah, sure. whatever, that’s not the point,” seungcheol huffed again.
“then what is the point?” 
“that he tried to come here and flirt with you when i’m right here!” he finally snapped. “it’s embarrassing! he looked at me with all this pity when i opened the door. i don’t want his pity. then you come around the corner, and he’s smiling ear to ear.” seungcheol looked like he was about to cry. you wanted to say something, but all you could was look at him, confused. “you pity me too. everyone does!” he rambled. “it’s so humiliating. and, and, i’m sure that you’d be happier at the office where he is. he’s more handsome than i am, and i’m sure he’s smarter and kinder than me. you deserve to go out and just leave me here. you don’t even want to be here. i see the way you look at me. it’s not the same way i look at you, so i couldn’t possibly as you to stay. why don’t you just go date a guy like that? i’m sure he can treat you better than- than me.”
you stood there dumbfounded. your heart ached for seungcheol, but you couldn’t stop the boiling anger in your stomach. how could he possibly think so lowly of himself? did he not see how you were still so infatuated with him? did he not realize the reason why you hadn’t talked to anyone new was because of him? and for him to accuse you of pitying him, after all the care you put into helping him get better. to accuse you of not wanting to be there, with him. you wouldn’t haven’t been here if you didn’t care. you knew you cared too much for seungcheol, for someone who you knew didn’t even care about you. what made him any different from back when you were dating? 
“you’re so cruel,” you whispered, grabbing your food and heading to the office. 
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there was radio silence for the next few hours. you would occasionally hear something, but seungcheol never knocked or tried to come in. the tip-toeing around each other was killing you. it felt awfully familiar to when seungcheol became distant from you before the two of you broke up. work was monotonous and nothing was holding your attention. all you could think about was what seungcheol said. you didn’t realize he felt that way about himself, or you for that matter. it hurt, and it hurt even more to wallow in it when he was right on the other side of the door. 
you couldn’t be the same person you were seven months ago. pushing down your concerns, hoping they would pass. they wouldn’t, you knew that, unless you talked to him. he would be getting better soon, and you could put this in the past. you could leave again once this was all over, never to look back. you couldn’t take another heartbreak because of him again. 
so your resolve broke and you pushed yourself out of the office chair and went to find seungcheol. 
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he remembered the day you left like it was yesterday. he heard you gather some things from your room and left without another word. “yeah, i guess so,” he muttered to himself angrily. “you’re such an idiot,” he continued. he didn’t even understand why he said that to you. it was uncalled for, especially given you wanted to talk about your strained relationship. he knew he was distant, but he didn’t know what else to do. so, he pushed it down until he couldn’t take it anymore, well, until you couldn’t take it anymore. 
not having you around the apartment for the first few weeks felt like torture. he had drafted and re-written several messages to you and even considered calling, but he never pulled through with any of it. his mind was constantly unfocused on his work. the work he sacrificed everything for. the work he tried so hard to keep up to help you, help the both of you. he couldn’t bring himself to eat as much as he usually did, when the pit of his stomach was killing him from the inside out.
now that you were gone he constantly tried to take his mind off of you. he couldn’t let a breakup disorient him like this. he had broken up with other people before, but never like this. he couldn’t stop replaying everything that went wrong in his mind, everything he could’ve done to stop it. maybe if he put up a fight you would’ve stayed. but, he didn’t fight at all. he cowered at the suggestion of breaking up, and instead of facing it, he fled and accepted fate. waves of uncertainty lapped at his feet and eventually, the waters rose until it was unbearable. if you wanted to break up with him then that’s what would happen, no matter what ran through his mind and heart. 
no matter the fact he had a little velvet box in the bottom of his sock drawer. 
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he was going to a party. he said he would buy alcohol, so he did. while he was driving he felt something shift within him. he thought about all the parties he had taken you to, and how all parties with you there were so much more bearable. all he could think about was how bored he would be. he loved his friends, but something was missing if you weren’t also there sharing a drink or discussion with him. yet, he let joshua convince him to come out. joshua had told him not to drown in any more work. joshua saw how the work was wearing down his friend, and he couldn’t take it anymore. so, seungcheol was going to a party he didn’t particularly want to attend, but he was getting there, even if he felt himself push the accelerator down more than he should.
but something stopped him from going to the party, and now he felt like he was floating above his body. he felt waves wash over him, and when they retreated he felt cold and vulnerable. he felt dazed and had a throbbing pain in his head, leg, and heart. he remembered the beating rain against his windshield and feeling the tires give out on him. he remembered your smile and your fingers running through his then-long hair. you told him everything was going to be alright, and he believed you. then, there was a rhythmic beeping next to him, some rustling by him, and your voice was gone. his head hurt too much, but he forced his eyes open.
in some sort of last-ditch effort of hope, he thought it could be you. you could be there fixing some magazines in the room or adjusting the blinds. yet, he opened his eyes and he didn’t see you there, just a nurse organizing some of the tubes next to him. seungcheol tried turning his head around, groaning. the nurse noticed and left to go get someone. maybe it could be you. no, that wouldn’t make sense. it couldn’t be you, and it wasn’t. it was his mother. she cried and asked him if he was alright. she asked where you were and what he was doing, but he didn’t have a good response to any of her questions. when she started to pry about you, he realized he had forgotten to mention the fact you were broken up. she had called soon after it ended because it was time for her to call her son, but he went into auto-pilot and told her you were fine, and he just never got around to telling her the truth. she loved you, and he knew that.
he definitely couldn’t do it then. it would break her, just like it broke him.
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when he saw you standing at the door behind his mother, he wanted to burst into tears, but it would probably hurt his lung. besides, he didn’t need you to see how broken up about it he was. everything hurt, but it only hurt more when he saw you. you looked gorgeous, and your voice was like music to his ears. what if you had a boyfriend? the thought flashed through his mind. any person would be lucky to date you, but the idea caused his stomach to roll. 
your hair looked so pretty too, but your clothes looked like a mess. he hoped he didn’t cause you too much worry.  yet, he was worried now. his lie was going to be exposed. he saw the way you looked at him, helpless and injured. you wouldn’t spare him, not after what he did. his mom was talking to you just like everything was normal, but he saw the look on your face. you were confused and probably angry. he knew you, and he knew you would correct his mom as soon as you could. so when she backed away and went to get something from the closet, he couldn’t tell what you were thinking, and that scared him. 
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the last thing he expected was for you to agree and help. he also expected you to correct his mother when she went on and on about how you were his girlfriend and how she knew how much you loved each other. he could sense your discomfort anytime he was around, so he made himself scarce and tried not to be a bother. what you were doing was already such a help to him, and he had no idea how he was ever going to repay you. 
he recalled when you pushed him around in his wheelchair at the supermarket, and all he wanted to do was disappear. it was his first visit to the store for a while, and there was something especially embarrassing about having your ex push you around the market, even if they didn’t know he had broken your heart. he didn’t know why he agreed to come. he would feel your hands brush past his shoulders as you would reach to grab something before dropping it in the shopping basket sitting in his lap. the tiny bit of contact from you had him going insane. he wanted to apologize for having you here, for his mom calling, for lying, for breaking your heart. he was scared, that if he opened his mouth, his heart would betray him and he’d say something that would make you run away again. but, he knew it wasn’t the time for that, so whenever your fingers graze his shoulder he swallowed whatever apology or confession (whichever came out first) down until it reached the bottom of his heart. 
you were wheeling him past the bakery and he saw the sweet milk bread he would always get as a treat on weekends. maybe you could share it again like you used to, but he doubted it. though, before he could process it, he was clearing his throat. you paused and he sensed you looking at him. “uh-,” he paused, coughing. “can, can we get the milk bread over there?” he asked. you looked around to where he was motioning. you saw it. he felt you pause. maybe he shouldn’t have asked. “it’s no big deal, actually. it was a dumb request. never-” he rambled but all of a sudden your hands brushed over his shoulders and you walked over to the table where the freshly baked bread was packaged. you inspected one and brought it back, placing it gently on the top of seungcheol’s basket. “do you need anything else?” you asked, quietly standing behind him again. he shook his head. 
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for the first few weeks, it was awkward and humiliating. he couldn’t bear you at his beck and call. he could barely even talk to you, too embarrassed. he needed to get out of the wheelchair as soon as possible. he willed his body to heal faster, so then maybe the pain that festered in his chest would go away. one night, he woke up and he was parched. he had run out of water, he must’ve forgotten to get more before he went to bed. he also noticed his stomach was growling. he had refused to eat anything for dinner. once again, his bad. it reminded him of the time when he would come home late to a dark home. he was starving, but he knew you had eaten. you had long gone to bed, but he smelled the food you cooked. he looked in the fridge and saw his helping there. he sighed. he knew it was your day off that day, but he couldn’t seem to draw himself away from his work. got too distracted.
so, he needed water and food, but to get there he would have to get out of his room and into the kitchen. specifically, he needed to get past you on the couch without waking you. pushing himself out of bed, he reached for his crutches. he got them secured under his arms and made his way out of his open door. you had insisted on keeping it open, so you could hear him if he needed anything. but, he saw the way you walked into his room deflated, leaving his dinner on his bedside table, cleaning the barely touched food an hour later, and retreating to the couch to sleep after a presumably hard day at work. he wouldn’t be able to bear it if he woke you up now. 
he stepped as lightly as he could given his situation, but you were out like a light. he contained a chuckle seeing you all curled up on his couch. though, he did feel bad. the couch was no place to sleep for a long time. if only he could share his bed with you and not make it weird… he quietly ate a protein bar and got a glass of milk. he watched from the kitchen how smooth your breathing was. he frowned when you began to toss and turn. he wiped his mouth and moved over to you. after resting his crutches on the floor, he sat on the ottoman in from of the couch, closest to your head. he leaned forward and watched your troubled expression. sometimes he would press a kiss on your forehead, but that would be entirely inappropriate. yet, he couldn’t do anything while he watched this perfect person in front of him suffer.
so, his hand was reaching forward and caressing your cheek before he knew it. your skin felt amazing under his fingertips. he missed holding your hand, hugging you from behind, and kissing your lips. he wondered how he could’ve messed up this horribly. he felt your breath even out, and he noticed how your brow un-furrowed. gently pulling back his hand, he smiled and made his way back to his room. it was only then after he crossed the doorway, he realized what he had done. the clear boundary he had tried to maintain melted within those twenty minutes of him getting a midnight snack. he didn’t deserve the treatment he was getting from you. he wished you would yell and scream at him for what he did. resentment. he yearned for you to resent him, but no, you had to come and be the amazing person you were. he couldn’t let himself feel this close to you again.
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but, he broke his promise. just like he always did. he invited you to sleep in his bed after a movie night he suggested. after offering, he realized he probably shouldn’t have offered the movie in the first place, but hindsight is 20-20. it felt too inappropriate, unspeakable even. especially, after he caught what minjeong was saying to you before you turned on the movie. he shouldn’t have eavesdropped, but minjeong was yelling on the other side of the phone and no matter how much you could turned down the volume, he still would’ve heard it. 
“he treated you like you barely even existed,” minjeong had said.
now, he didn’t want to believe that, but he knew it was true. working longer hours, barely seeing you, and coming home at odd hours of the night were all factors which were purely his fault. he could’ve requested time off, but he didn’t. it was his ambition that blinded him. the thought that if he worked hard enough now, he could be with you more later. but, he had forgotten he wasn’t the only person in the equation, and you only had so much patience. the patience he had wrongfully wasted. 
your back was turned to him. he didn’t know why it hurt so much given the situation. being face-to-face in bed would be too intimate. too dangerous. yet, that’s all he wanted. he longed to feel your body next to his, to know that what was once shared between you was still there. so, he took a risk. he reached forward and pressed his chest against your back, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. 
he waited and waited for you to pull away, and much to his surprise, you never did. you stayed in his arms like old times, but he knew it couldn’t be like that. he didn’t know if he could ever have you like this again. the recovery period of you taking care of him was painful on a multitude of levels. he was giving you space since he already felt like a burden, and it appeared to him like he was the plague. it was for the best, but he still wanted to hold you and kiss you to show his thanks. all he could do was say thank you and quietly retreat back into his mind. so, he held you like it was the last time, which it likely was, and he fell into a deeper, quieter sleep for the first time in weeks. the waves retreated and did not come back for the rest of the night. 
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who was this guy standing at his door? why were you smiling so widely at this guy? why was this guy smiling so widely back at you? did he just sleep in the same bed with you when you had a boyfriend? so many questions, and so little patience left on his end. this guy was so handsome, with a sharp nose and intense eyes. he could see how you could go to someone like that, someone completely opposite of him. any hope of last night not being a one-off thing leaving his mind. the guy glanced over at him and gave him a look he was all too familiar with. the old ladies at the supermarket gave him this look. his mother gave him this look. even you sometimes. he was broken and mangled and people loved to look. so, to hide their nosiness, they concealed it with concern and pity. he hated that. sometimes you would do it, and he wanted to rip his hair out. he hated it when you would generate idle conversation or say his name like some sort of swear word. what ever happened to being your cheol? 
the doubt came flooding back into his mind, and he was lost in the sea of his own thoughts again. the waves were back, and he didn’t know how to keep them at bay. the tide was coming in stronger, and he could feel every brick he had built crumble under the pressure. when could this conversation be over?
he didn’t mean to lash out at you and your work friend. it was the waves. the waves that splashed into his face. the water that fell into his throat and choked him. he had to spit it out or it was going to drown him. every little thing he had hidden away came out. the confessions, insecurities, and everything else that held him back now and back then. he just needed to get it out before the waves came crashing in on him again when you would inevitably leave. 
“you’re so cruel,” you had said, and you were right. he was. how could he be so cruel to one of the only people who ever showed him unconditional kindness? it was over, and he knew it. 
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all of his memories felt disjointed. almost as if someone had glued them together into a scrapbook. you were trying so hard to follow what he was telling you. the entire time he refused to look at you. his hands were clasped together, face flushed. “i suppose that was a long winded way to say i’m sorry,” he said finally looking at you for the first time. “i’m sorry for treating you so horribly when we were together, and even now. i’m sorry for standing you up and coming home drunk. you’re right, i am cruel, and i will never forgive myself for how i treated you,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. 
you knew he had problems with anxiety and doubt, but you never thought it was this bad. you were mad at him, but you wished he had told you. told you about how he felt like he was drowning everywhere he went. “seungcheol, i-” you began but he cut you off.
“i understand if you want to leave. i can just have joshua take me to physical therapy and my appointments. i’ve asked you to stay for too long. it wasn’t right of me. if anything, i owe you so much. you shouldn’t have to be forced to be anywhere you don’t want to be,” he said. 
you stared at him. you had never seen him so defeated. when you came to talk to him, you didn’t expect him to be the one prepared with an apology. you just wanted to talk, but now that you began piecing together the things he told you. you realized how much he did care. he saw the food you made for him. he saw the effort you put in. for some reason, that just made you feel a little better. you always felt like he didn’t see you, but he did. this entire time. “what if i want to be here?” you asked, meeting his gaze. his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips. “then, i would ask you to stay. i would promise to treat you the way you deserve. i would make every wrong i made right with you,” he confessed, moving closer to you on the couch. he reached forward and grabbed your hand. “i'm sorry for being such an asshole to you. i would apologize every second of every day.anything to get you to trust me again,” he continued. “anything so i can be yours.”
your heart felt full. it was healing. for some reason, you believed him. minjeong would probably yell at you for “falling for his trap,” but you had a feeling he was telling the truth, that he wasn’t going to mess it up again. “then, let’s start over,” you smiled, eyes welling up. he lifted a hand and gently wiped the tears that threatened to fall with his thumb. “gladly,” he smiled. you pulled your hand away from the one he was grasping at, and extended it to him. “i’m ___, nice to meet you,” you smiled. he grinned, glancing between your face and your outstretched hand. “nice to meet you too. i’m seungcheol,” he said clasping your hands together. he felt the waves were receding, and by the look on your face, you felt it too. 
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you were out shopping for what felt like the fourth time this week. you just kept forgetting something on your list that honestly couldn’t wait until the next week. then your phone began to ring. you slid it out of your pocket and answered it. “what am i forgetting?” you asked as soon as the line connected. 
“nothing, i was just wondering if you could get some milk bread,” the voice on the other side of the phone asked. you laughed quietly to yourself. “what’s the occasion?” you joked.
“it’s the weekend, and i love you,” seungcheol said. you felt your heart soar. you sighed happily and made your way over to the milk bread. you were still on the line with him, and you could hear him humming. maybe now was the time you brought it up. “so, you want the same kind from the bakery, right?” you asked, stalling. 
“of course,” he scoffed. “the fresh ones from the bakery are obviously superior to the ones that one brand makes.” it was funny since he said it like it was obvious. you hummed and placed one of the loaves in your cart. “is there anything else?” you asked. you heard seungcheol shifting around. “nope, that should be all for me,” he replied. 
“everything i’m getting is for you,” you rolled your eyes. he chuckled. you continued to chat with him as you walked through the store, picking up a few leftover things. you decided it would be a good time to end the call when you got to the register, but not before you brought it up. “look, cheol, i’m at the register, so i’ll have to go,” you said, getting in line. 
“oh, okay, sounds good. i’ll see you at home?” he asked to confirm.
“yes, after i get back, though, can we talk about that red velvet box in your sock drawer?” you smirked. 
“yeah, sure of co- wait! how do you know about that?” seungcheol took a second to process what you had told him. he sounded frantic on the other side of the phone, and it made you laugh. “oh, looks like the line is moving, i’ve got to go! we’ll talk more when i get back, right?” you smiled.
“yes, for sure, yes! we will be talking because you weren’t supposed to see that!” seungcheol exclaimed. “see you soon, i love you, ___.”
“i love you too, cheol,” you replied easily. because, in this life, you loved him, and he loved you back.  
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minli | sort of proofread! working on it… i think the plot makes sense… right… please say it does. this has sort of been my child for the past month or so… i actually used the max amount of pictures in this LOL ASLDKJ. please leave some feedback if you want :) likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated :)
tagging | @a-wandering-stay @cinnamoroxie @wonwoosthetic
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