#and i’m almost at 180 for bench pressing

[mydarlingdahlia]

Little fun fact about me, I can weightlift heavy weights :3

[octuscle]

Please help me, support. All my mates are in the football team but I missed out because apparently I’m too skinny and nerdy. I need to show them all. I’ll give anything, take my smarts, my hair, whatever - just make me a jock beast they’ll all envy.

I love getting a free ride. I can do anything with you? Fear you!

Consuela has just said goodbye. Until your parents come home, you'll have the beach house in Easthampton all to yourself. And that could be tomorrow morning too, if your father is too busy at the office and your mother at the surgery. You like the weekends before the official start of the season on Long Island. It's quiet, the sea is wild… Perfect for sitting in your study, watching the seagulls and working on your Bachelor's thesis. It's starting to get dark outside. You turn on the light. Your reflection in the window pane. A beanstalk with a 180-dollar haircut. Football player? What an absurd idea!

Almost as absurd as reading the latest issue of Gridiron Magazine at your desk. You throw yourself on your bed and flip through the pages. From outside on the street, you can hear the noise of the trucks rolling past. Supplies for the sawmill. Your father is one of the guys who take the logs from the harvesters in the mountains and then drive them down to the river. When he can, he takes a break at your mother's diner. She makes the best pancakes in the county. Shit, if your father knew you were lying here on the bed jerking off to the pictures of the quarterbacks, he'd beat the shit out of you. Although… You mean you once caught him in the cab of his truck with a coworker. Your dad said that they were just listening to a football game on the radio together. But you never understood why your father had dropped his pants.

Your smartphone answers. Time for the protein shake. You go down to the kitchen and take one of the large canisters of powder from the shelf. You consume a lot of protein here in the house. Your dad used to be a legend at his high school. And he's still a beast of a man. You flex your biceps and look at yourself in the kitchen window. Poor old man. By now he's getting the short end of the stick. No idea when your parents will be home. It's almost 9pm. The stream of trucks in front of the house continues. You go for another round of bench presses in the garage. And then you go to bed. Tomorrow starts early again.

You had an early shift at the sawmill. That's what you like best. Out of bed at 04:00, a run, eight hours of hard work. And then training with the boys at 15:00. Of course you could have finished high school. But what good would that have done you? You have your own trailer, your own Dodge. And you're the star of the football team here in the village. You couldn't have asked for more in life.

[venusiangguk]

the art of doubting | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc

>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, a lil bit of fluff, angst

>>word count: 17k -.-

>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank you, sexual tension, gross domestic flirting 🙄, push up kisses, orgasms, oc getting overwhelmed bc jock is too gewd <3, oral (m), rimming !!, mirror sex, one (1) spank, jreampie <3, tummy bulging (kinda? he presses on her tum to feel it?), praise, dirty talk, encouragement, showering together, kisses 😚, ex wife has arrived, mentions of divorce, a lil bit of sad talk about nari :(, nari is two now!!, misunderstandings, arguments, jk lowkey got some issues he needs to work thru lol, he thinks in extremes, oc is in love </3, a very drastic 180 occurs

>>notes: ex wife arrives and literally makes everything explode lmao

this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist

>>summary: seeds of doubt are planted and unfortunately they grow faster than love. things with jk fall apart.

Soft grunting groans filter through the air as you slowly make your way down the stairs to the lower floor. Not really a basement, more of an indoor workout cave.

Jeongguk’s shirtless on the bench, pulling weighted arms down on the machine, the muscles in his back rippling and straining with every pull down. He sees you in the mirror as soon as you walk in, his eyes lighting up and a small winded laugh puffs from his chest.

“Hey— hang on… almost— done…”

You shift on your feet a little, watching him through the reflection. The sight you see is a little too obscene to just be a work out, you feel like. He’s not sweaty yet, probably just started, but his face is a little red from the excretion, and his lats are on display as he does the repetitive workout over and over with clenched teeth and breathy grunts until his body gives out. He catches his breath for a moment, shakes his arms out.

“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” you say, tiptoeing over to him and stepping over the plastic baby weight on the mat. “Also why do you do so many at once… looks miserable.”

Jeongguk laughs softly, looks up at you with his doe-eyes when you’re close enough to rest a hand on his shoulder. He’s warm to the touch.

“I usually don’t but I’m the only one here, and I knew it was you coming. Also my phone is charging upstairs so if you texted when you got here like normally, I would not have known.” he explains. “I tend to focus more on longer sets with lighter weights, than shorter sets with heavier weights because it helps keep muscles lean… I’m not trying to bulk up right now.”

You tell him that that makes sense even though you really have no clue. Just know that whatever he does to stay fit works. “Nari at her mom’s?” you ask.

He nods, standing up to go over to the pull up bar on the side of the machine. Wiping his hands on the tiny workout shorts he’s wearing, he jumps a little, and then wiggles his fingers on the bar to get a good grip. “All yours till Friday,” he says, cutely.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you correct him. “Till tomorrow afternoon. I have work… might get a raise soon.”

You wander around a little as Jeongguk goes on about how you should already be getting paid more considering you have a college degree, but you tune him out, knowing he’s trying to be on your side and make you feel better. A marketing degree won't get you far in a grocery aisle, and you both know that, but it’s sweet of him to try.

Instead, you opt to take in your surroundings. You’ve been all around his house of course, but you’ve not spent much time in the workout dungeon.

It’s fully equipped, and fully mirrored, with the flooring being that of wrestling mats to cushion dropped weights or baby stumbles.

On one side of the room there’s an elliptical, a treadmill, a rowing machine, a bench press, basically one of everything that you would normally see in a gym. But on the other side, blocked off by a baby safety gate, is a mini little workout zone filled with mini weights, those foam blocks that you normally find in a child’s gymnastics zone, and a little dance bar along the mirrored wall.

You smile, thinking about Nari holding onto the bar and doing that funny little squatting move of hers. “Are you going to put her in dance?”

He looks at you through the mirror, no longer doing pull ups, but just watching it seems. Seated on one of the benches with a water bottle in his hand, resting between his spread legs. “Ballet I think,” he says, “Me and her mom were talking about it. She thinks it’ll be good for Nari’s coordination…” He gives you a humorously exasperated look, “I just think she’ll look cute in a tutu. Though I suppose coordination would be helpful… she’s a bit clumsy.”

“She is only 2,” you point out, walking over to his side of the room again. “Was the party fun?”

It was on Saturday, just a few days ago. Jeongguk said it was fairy themed much like most of the baby’s things. You saw the pictures that he sent you, Nari adorned in a pair of tiny pink wings, her cake in the shape of a mushroom. The kids all got tiny bottles of ‘pixie dust’ to play with, shimmery bubbles floating through the air.

There was a woman in one of the pictures, blowing a bubble into Nari’s delighted face, her own smile matching that of the baby. She obviously wasn’t the focus of the photo, and you doubt that Jeongguk even realized when he sent it. But you already knew who the woman was anyway. The pictures around Jeongguk’s house were enough to tell you, even if he never explicitly stated it. And you know it makes sense and that it’s normal for her to be there, with Jeongguk at their daughter's birthday, but something settled into the pit of your belly when you looked at that picture. You haven’t been able to shake it yet.

Jeongguk’s voice brings you back. “Yeah it was fun, you got the pictures right?” He seems excited. You laugh a little, reminding that yes, you did see. You responded to them after all. He grins sheepishly as he goes to another machine, “Don’t be sassy, or I’ll eat the piece of cake we saved you.”

His sentence warms your heart. The fact that he was thinking about you, keeping you in mind. Reminds you of the bittersweet message you received from him on Saturday while he was at the party.

Wish you could have come

It took some effort, and you’ve done your best to not think about the fact that you could have, if he had asked you to. Saturday was your day off.

“What flavor is it?”

“Funfetti, obviously.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, grunts quietly as he does another rep.

“Obviously,” you mime, with a small chuckle.

Conversation flows smoothly, just like always, everything seamless between you both. While most people wouldn’t probably get annoyed at someone hovering, Jeongguk seems happy to be near you, glad for the company. You sit beside him as he gets to the ground for some push ups.

He gets about three in before you’re laying flat on your back, boredom making a thought pop into your head.

“Do them over me.”

Jeongguk falters mid-way up, glancing at you with a suspicious look. “Why?”

“I wanna help,” you reason.

“Not sure being on top of you will be helpful,” he murmurs, but appeases you nonetheless, side walking on his hands and the balls of his feet until he’s over you.

You both give each other closed lip smiles as you try not to laugh. Jeongguk lowers himself, and you sneakily place a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“I knew you didn’t want to be helpful,” he says, his voice laced with faux annoyance. He does another one and receives another kiss. “You want to be distracting.”

“I’m not being distracting, I’m providing incentive.”

“I can’t even go all the way down, your tits are in the way.”

“You are so ungrateful.”

He smiles with his eyes as he goes down again, his nose brushing yours as he nuzzles into your cheek briefly. “And how are you providing incentive?”

You hum at the feel of his warm breath on your ear. “The longer you hold your plank, the longer you get to kiss me.”

“Who says I wanna kiss you?” he teases, voice soft as a feather as he does another push up.

“You always want to kiss me,” you tell him, just as quiet, tension radiating off of you as you readjust yourself, your legs opening so that the next time he drops down, he’s not just over you, but between your thighs as well. “And you haven’t yet…” you remind him as you drag your acrylics over his bare back, smiling at the way he shudders and at the way his arms buckle.

He grins, looking at you like you’re unbelievable, yet everything he wants right now. “Between you and Nari, I can never get anything done.”

You hum, “I just think you need to reevaluate your priorities, maybe.”

“And what do you think my priorities should be, __?” he whispers, eyes searching your face, lingering on your lips, a fond look coloring his features.

“Well, right now,” you start, looping your arms around his neck, “I think you should really focus on that plank, and on that kiss you’re dying to give me.”

Your teeth click before your lips lock because of how much you both are smiling.

But once lips lock, it doesn’t take much for Jeongguk to collapse onto you. Doesn’t even try to hold the plank, instead just melding his body to yours, the inside of your legs clamping around his waist. He goes from having his hands flat on the mat to bracing himself on his forearms, his knees hitting the mat between your legs. You use some of your weight to bring him closer, the slowly swelling front of his work out shorts pressing into the crotch of your leggings.

You work your hips, rolling them slowly up into him, in time with the slow, molten kisses he licks into your mouth.

Jeongguk’s always easy for you, but today he seems to be fighting himself, playfully fighting how bad he wants you. It’s the principle of the thing. To prove a point. The point being that you’re distracting, his weakness. His hips rolling into yours, only to pull back. He lips pressing hard against yours, only to pull back. Just for him to do it over again, just for him to give in like you both know he wants to and will. It's after a particularly hard rut against you that he peels his lips from yours, panting softly, how worked up he is so apparent in the way he can’t stop his hips.

“You’re going to kill me,” he whispers, his nose brushing against your cheek before he sinks his teeth into the apple of it like he just can’t help it, can’t get enough of you.

Your manicured hands cup his cheeks, as you nod and guide him back into a wet kiss. “Want you in my mouth,” you moan against his lips.

Jeongguk pulls back with a light blush on his cheeks. “Are you sure? I was just working out–”

A kiss cuts him off as you slowly start to sit up, him going with you. “Barely broke a sweat, and I don’t care,” you tell him, hands gripping at the elastic of his waistband, “just want you.”

Jeongguk laughs softly, grabs your eager hands, maneuvering to his feet and pulling you with him. It’s then that he strips you of your shirt, your bra. His hands come to cup your bare tits, rolling them in his palms as he brings his lips back to you, all while he toes off his shoes, as well as his socks with a little difficulty and stumbling, but not without sweet laughter filtering in through the kisses.

He makes his way down as he pushes your pants down, his lips latching to a nipple, making you mewl under the light flicks and the soft sucks, hands coming to his hair to keep your balance as you rid yourself from the stretchy material. His hair gets pulled when you’re free, and he’s biting his lip at the tugging when he blinks his eyes open to look at you again.

“Sit on the bench,” you tell him, hand slipping from his locks, and down to his flushed chest. You press lightly, backing him up to the benchpress machine that’s not too far behind him.

The bench is propped up, a reclined sitting position under the secured bar above, resembling more of a chair than the typical flat board of most bench presses.

He gingerly sits down, keeps his eyes on you the whole time, watching as you lower yourself to your knees, settling between his open ones. His cock is hard and pink, up and laying flat on his lower tummy. It pulses when you place your hand on his thighs, long nails running down.

You both smile a little because its funny in a stupid way, but your pussy pulses too, getting slick between you legs at the way Jeongguk responds to you. How eager he is for you, how the mere feel of your hands on his thighs is enough to make him throb in anticipation of what else is going to come, of how good you’re going to make him feel.

“Wanna make you feel good,” you say quietly. Your gaze flicking between his face and the flushed, shiny head of his cock in your hand.

He bites his lip when you slowly start to work your hand on him, his foreskin sliding over the wet tip of his cock, and when you rub the pad of your thumb on the under part of the head, you watch as his head tilts back, his eyes slipping shut, and his mouth exhaling a soft sigh. You squeeze your thighs together at the sight. Jeongguk is so responsive, pliant as he settles into the bench, hot and heavy in your hand.

“Put your mouth on it,” Jeongguk requests, eyes lazily shut.

When you oblige, Jeongguk sucks in a sharp breath, his back arching a little off of the bench behind him, his hips pulling back like the feel of your lips suckling on him is too much, too good.

You pull off with a little pop, holding his cock close smiling against his length. “Why are you trying to get away from me?”

Jeongguk gives you a crooked grin, looking down his nose at you with hazy eyes. “Keep going,” he says softly.

Humming against his length you begin to place heavy, wet kisses down his cock all the way to his balls. The kind where your tongue licks him before your lips suction softly. Then you lick all the way back up with the flat of your tongue, your lips wrapping around him, your head bobbing a few shallow times. Jeongguk keeps breathing those sweet, soft moans. So relaxed and relishing in the way you suck him off. He’s not pulling away anymore, instead trying to keep from bucking into your mouth, you can tell by the way his lower belly tenses.

When you go down a little farther, sucking his balls into your mouth, you moan at the way he whines, at the way his legs subconsciously open wider as you alternate between lapping at him, and teasing him with light circles from the tip of your tongue. He breathes praise, telling you how good it feels. It makes you want to make him feel even better.

His legs spreading wide for you gives you the idea to trail a little farther down, stray off the path of your usual blowjobs. You start with your fingers, something he’s used to and loves. Massaging that spot behind his balls with deliberate little pets, you moan softly when he pulls his legs back just slightly, barely lifting his feet off the ground so you can touch him better.

His brows are pinched, and his mouth is open in a silent moan, his expression one of pleasure and arousal as he brings his hand down to his cock. He slowly tugs at himself, watching as you bring your mouth back to his balls. He’s nodding, eager and encouraging, his hand speeding up.

“You’re–,” he moans, his head rolling back along with his eyes, “My baby.”

Laughing a little you pull back, focusing on just massaging him. He seems extra responsive today, his praise and sentences jumbled and hardly coherent.

“Keep licking,” he moans.

You hum, going to appease him but right before you suck his balls into your mouth you pause. He notices, brings his eyes to you with a questioning, needy gaze, his hand still working over his cock.

You place a chaste kiss to his balls and then one a little lower. Jeongguk jolts, and questions you with a gaze, but he doesn't stop you.

In all honesty, you don't know what you’re doing, have no clue why you even want to, but the desire to make Jeongguk feel good and curiosity spurs you on. He likes your fingers, maybe he’ll like your mouth there too.

Your eyes hold a question in them as you gently, wordlessly push his legs back some more, more of him on display than you’ve ever seen before. Jeongguk grows a little red, but his hand hasn’t stopped, and he just pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, watching you as you kiss on the backs of his thighs.

He’s tense, like he’s just waiting for you to do it. With your breath hot on his taint, you look at him once more, and he gives the slightest nod, permission to continue. His eyes are heavy and he licks over his red bitten lips, and when you press another one of your chaste kisses against him, his brows furrow and his mouth parts and he cranes forward, like he wants it so bad, is so eager that he can't contain it.

The first lick over him makes him gasp, and he breathes the most salacious, “Yeah–” as his legs get pulled back even more.

You smile at him with your tongue out, giving tentative licks to that spot he loves. Your hands are on his cheeks and you pull back some, looking at him with a grin.

Jeongguk groans, a laugh coloring it as his head falls back to the bench kind of like he’s a little bashful about being so worked up. His free hand pushes through his hair before rubbing over his face, eyes finally meeting yours again. “You’re so hot down there,” he tells you.

You purr, pressing your thumbs into his cheeks opening him up a little more. A quick wet lick is placed over his hole and he breathes out a harsh sigh, craning his neck so he can look at you, his tummy tensed.

“Is this what you want?” you murmur against him, getting a little more confident, the tip of your tongue flicking over the cinched muscle.

“Yeah, fuck…” he whispers.

The hand he has on his cock squeezes at the base for a second before he makes a ring with his thumb and index finger focusing on the tip of his cock with quick little strokes. The hand he doesn’t have busy pulls his thigh back a bit more.

As your tongue works over him, he chants over and over again, tells you how hot you look, how good your mouth feels, how wants you to keep going. It’s when you point your tongue a little, just barely pressing into his rim that his hand goes to the back of your head.

He holds your face to his ass, pushes you into him as he melts into the chair, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths that lilt up at the end.

“Good girl,” Jeongguk moans, his eyes blinking open hazily as he looks down at you again.

Your eyes smiles at him as you continue to work your tongue, little wet noises willing the air as you eat him out. When he removes his hand, you lick from his hole to his balls, repeating the action a few times, making Jeongguk almost tremble.

“Your dirty girl?” you ask him quietly in response to the praise he just gave you, giving him tiny little kitten licks over his hole.

He gives you a lustdrunk smile, licking over his lips. “Yeah, all mine.”

“What do you want?” you kiss into his taint, eyes big as you look up at him.

“Just a little more,” he whispers, his thumb spreading the precum leaking from his tip.

You get a hold of the hand on his pulled back thighs, guide it back to the back of your head once again. “Take it then,” you tell him, “take more from me.”

Jeongguk lets out a shaky breath, biting his lip as he pushes your mouth back to his hole. “Look so hot licking my ass,” he breathes, barely audible over the wet licks you’re giving him. He kinda shakes your head, his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched as he sucks a breath through his teeth. “Oh my god–”

When you point your tongue and press past the little resistance, Jeongguk’s mouth drops open and his brows arch upwards, and his eyes roll a little before he squeezes them shut, pushing and pulling on your head just barely, making your tongue fuck him.

It's kind of abrupt when he pulls you back by the hair, his legs coming down again. It’s abrupt when he kisses you. Deep, his tongue licking into your mouth like he doesn't care that you were just licking into him, making him pant, making his cock leak. It’s abrupt when he breaks the kiss. He’s still close, breathing you in, giving you one last soft little peck before he leans back again, his demeanor expectant.

Both of his hands are on your head, and he’s guiding you down, taking what he wants from you just like you told him to. His cock is so hard, flushed and angry looking as it stands, just waiting for your mouth.

It's a swift and quick motion when he pushes your head down, the tip hitting the back of your throat almost immediately. He whines softly, and rocks his hips up while pulling you down onto him, glucking noises filling the air as he fills your mouth.

His length and girth are a lot to take, your eyes prickling with tears as he holds your head down, but when you hear him whisper, so desperately, “Love when you choke on my cock,” it’s so worth it.

He sounds so unabashedly fucked out, like your mouth is the best thing he’s ever felt, like it's the only thing he ever wants to feel for the rest of his life. He’s being a little rougher with you, a little more crude with his words like he’s losing himself in you, losing his control. It makes you moan around him, wanton and needy.

His hips start to fuck up into you mouth again, his hands holding your head in place, keeping you from pulling away. He knows you wouldn’t have, always so well behaved, almost obedient in the way that you please him. But, even so, he just likes having his hands on you, likes feeling the way you struggle to take him.

“That’s a good girl…” he groans, soft and focused, his hips snapping up again. “You’re such a good girl…”

He holds you down once more, shakes your head by the hair so that his tip rubs against your throat, and then he’s pulling you up, kissing you filthily again, not even giving you time to properly catch your breath.

“Get against the mirror,” he says against your lips.

The heat from your hands makes the glass under your hands fog up, and the heat from Jeongguk behind you makes you flush, the heaviness of his cock rutting against the swell of your ass as he wastes no time getting into position.

At the first feel of his tip rubbing between your folds, grazing over your clit, you gasp and your arms buckle. Your legs spread naturally, but Jeongguk makes a tutting noise, and rests one palm on the outside of your hips, the other between your shoulder blades applying light pressure.

“Keep them together, but bend a little– yeah, perfect,” he breathes.

He takes a step back, looks at your ass pushed out for him, your puffy pussy peeking out from between your legs with your clit tucked inside. You’re drippy, shiny and smooth, your slick leaking out, making it sound lewd and wet when he pushes inside.

Your head hangs at the first thrust, Jeongguk pushing in slow but with a steady motion, and you exhale a soft puff.

He keeps his hips against your ass, his cock sheathed by your pussy. His hands grabbing and squeezing, roaming over your body while he waits just a bit for you to get used to him inside of you. Then he’s pulling out, just the tip of his cock still tucked inside, before he fucks into you hard and fast. It knocks the breath out of you, makes your hands on the mirror slip a little.

“F-fuck,” you whisper, your head still hanging, eyes squeezed shut as he fills you up.

Jeongguk’s eyes go from watching his cock slide into you, to the mirror. He moans, the contrast of his tattooed arm on your bare back as he rocks his hips into you is so pretty, just like the way that your shoulder blades push out, how your tiny waist feathers out to the swell of your hips. The fatty part of your hips ripples and pillows against him everytime he thrusts, dull slaps echoing with the whiny moans he punches out of you with his cock.

“Look baby,” he tells you.

It takes a little bit of effort, but when you lift your head, you’re met with a disheveled, messy version of yourself. There’s tears in your eyes, the feel of Jeongguk’s fat cock pushing and pulling in and out of you is overwhelmingly good, his girth rubbing against the sensitive walls of your cunt. Your makeup is messy, your under eyes dark with smudged mascara, the coverage around your mouth and on your nose completely gone, your lips kissed swollen and red.

Eyes moving to Jeongguk behind you through the mirror, you see the way he’s watching you watch him. Watching as your expression changes, how your eyes flutter when he hits that spot inside of you that makes your knees lock, makes your breath stutter and your brows furrow in pleasure.

“There,” you breathe, “God, you make me feel so good, baby.” Your hands slip down the mirror again, the force of his thrusts and the pleasure that’s curling in your belly already making it hard to hold yourself up. You squeeze your eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling over.

Jeongguk picks up the pace of his hips, his hands gripping yours, his thumbs digging into the little dimples at the bottom of your back, a perfect match, like they were placed there just for him. It’s almost like your body was meant for him, crafted with him in mind, fitting together so flawlessly that it’s hard for him to remember there were people before you, people that made him feel good before you did. Because when he’s inside of you, when he’s with you, it’s like that’s all there is. Just an endless loop of you and him, you and him, no beginning or end, no past or future, like the world is only as big as the room you’re in.

“Faster– getting close...”

Your voice echoes in his ears, and he realizes that his thrusts slowed while he got lost in thought. He clears his throat, gets back to work, back to fucking you like he means it, it’s the last time he ever will.

“You always cum so fast when I fuck you like this,” Jeongguk muses, biting his lip when he sees the way your tits jiggle in the mirror.

He expects you to be snarky, make a comment about how he’s smug, too cocky, but instead you nod your head, hands forming fists against the mirror. It’s airy and sexy when you say, “Yeah, you fuck me the best, love your cock… wanna cum for you…”

And it reminds him of the first time he fucked you. How you said more or less the same thing.

“Yeah, wanna fuck you all the time. Love your fat cock…”

That was 6 months ago. It’s not that long but it is at the same time. It feels like only a few seconds and a lifetime in the same breath. Jeongguk feels something stir in his belly, something mix with the steady build up.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice soft and dreamy– almost fond, juxtaposing the way he’s fucking you. “What do you say?”

You wait a few moments for your body to get there, your head falling again like it's getting hard to support yourself. You’re chanting softly; pornographic ‘yeah’s’ and lewd mewls spilling from your lips nonstop.

“Fuck…” you start, “can I… can I cum?”

It sounds like it's hard for you to form words, so it's a little mean of Jeongguk to spring something new on you. But he can’t help himself.

“Who are you asking?”

A confused sound that turns to a moan at the tailend colors the air.

“I…”

“Who am I, baby? What should you call me when I’m fucking you like this?” Jeongguk asks, patient and gentle.

You say the first thing that pops into your head.

“Daddy?”

A sharp slap echoes in the room, and you’re sure there’s a red palm print on your ass. You cry out, whiny as Jeongguk leans over you, his voice in your ear.

“You know better than that,” he says, a little out of breath, but still stern. “Try again. Be polite.”

At this point you’re so close that you’re crying softly, your knees turning inward as you squeeze your legs together as if that will keep your orgasm at bay until he says you can cum. You try to listen to his words, connect the dots and finally it comes to you.

“Sir–” you gasp, “Sir, can I cum?”

Jeongguk groans a little, feels his cock jerk inside of you, the title making that hot feeling burn within him.

“Yes,” he moans, “Look at yourself while you do, want you to see how pretty you look when you cum just from my cock.”

Hardly able to keep yourself up at all, even with the help of the mirror, you tell him in a whiny voice that you can’t, that it’s too hard.

You hear him coo before your world spins a little bit, Jeongguk wrapping an arm around your tummy, pulling you to his chest. His body is burning behind you, and his breath is hot in your ear as he pants, his hips punching into you from behind. The arm that he doesn't have wrapped around your torso comes up, forearm resting between your tits, fingers getting a hold of your jaw making you look straight ahead.

The sight looking back at you is indecent. So filthy that you and Jeongguk both falter, a soft moan echoing in unison.

“Look at you,” Jeongguk purrs.

“Please,” you cry, simply because you don't know what else to say, overtaken with pleasure.

“I already said you could cum, baby,” he reminds you.

And it's like it's all too much and not enough at the same time. Like the push and pull of his cock into your cunt is too good yet exactly what you need, like his hands on you are overstimulating but without them you wouldn’t feel that safety, that feeling of being adored and taken care of. Like his voice in your ear encouraging you is too nice but if he stopped talking to you you wouldn’t know wouldn’t know what to do, that it’s okay.

“Jeongguk,” you cry. Like actually cry. No longer able to hold in the tiny, overwhelmed sobs.

He presses into the side of your head, kisses you as well as he can when he’s jackhammering his hips into your cunt. He shushes you, and his hold on your jaw softens, his other hand petting over your front soothingly. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos.

And it just makes you cry harder. “I can’t– It’s– it’s too much–”

“Yes you can,” he whispers hotly, his eyes on you in the mirror. “You can do it, be good, cum for me…”

He uses the hand he has on your front to press you back into him, closer if that were even possible, but with the slight pressure on your lower belly he feels something.

The moan that falls from his lips is so shameless and lewd. It’s not loud, but more of a soft, wondrous keen.

His cock thrusting into you can be felt with the light push into your belly, and it unlocks something in him. He grabs one of your hands that’s clutching at his forearm and brings it down, his own hand on top of yours pushing so you can feel his cock inside of you too.

“Feel that?” he asks, nipping at your ear lightly, “So hard for you, so deep that you can feel me through your belly... Let go for me, baby, wanna feel you cum on my cock while I can feel myself inside you from the outside.”

Maybe it’s feeling him from the outside, or maybe it's the way he always manages to keep that soft, gentle way with you no matter what. Even if he gets worked up, losing himself a bit– he never leaves you, never becomes too harsh or rough. He’s always the perfect mix of both, and that’s what makes the pleasure that’s been ebbing in you wash over your body.

You tremble in his arms and soft, desperate whimpers get exhaled as you cum. No warning, but Jeongguk knows, feels the way you contract around him as he slows his hips a little, giving you longer, unhurried thrusts. He lets you bathe in it, the dreamy, dizzying high that makes you delirious as you thank him with teary words.

“That’s my girl, so good for me all the time… knew you could do it,” he says, his hips gradually starting to pick up again, his thrusts sloppy.

Vision is a little blurry when you blink your eyes, but the sight of Jeongguk wrapped around you, his face in your neck biting and moaning into your skin–

“Please cum inside of me,” you beg.

“Yeah, gonna–” he tells you, his teeth sinking into that spot between your shoulder and neck. You gasp when he sucks, knowing that there will be a mark, and you bring your hand up to his hair, keeping him close.

Jeongguk switches from those harsh sucks and bites to sweet kisses up your neck to your jaw. His fingers on your face urge you to look over your shoulder, and the distance between your lips and his is too small, too tempting for him to not take it.

He kisses you, desperate just like his thrusts are becoming until he's right at the crest.

“Gonna cum,” he pants against your lips, his hand on your tummy still pushing to feel himself.

You nod, still looking at him behind you, placing soft kisses on his lips at first and then wherever you can reach until he succumbs to the pleasure, his eyes closing and his head lulling back a little before he’s pressing into your sweaty hair, like he wants to hide yet stay close to you. He cums with a gasp, cock buried deep, throbbing with every shot of white that paints you from the inside.

As soon as he catches his breath, he kisses you.

He kisses you again and again and again.

~~~

There’s something so intimate… so vulnerable about letting someone wash you.

When there’s no ulterior motives laced with sex or lust. Just gentle touches, pure in the way they take their time with lathering up even the simple, boring parts of your body. Paying special mind to your hands, your calves. Behind your ears, your shoulders.

Jeongguk’s touching you like you’re sunshine.

Like he’s savoring the warmth of your body under his fingertips even though it's too hot in the shower.

He’s touching you like you’re the perfect day, one so perfect that he’s scared it will pass by before he can enjoy it.

He’s touching you with so much care and attention and it feels so good that it’s blissful. It feels so– it feels like when you’re a little kid and you return to the comfort of your home after a long day, to the familiarness of your bed, to everything that makes you feel safe.

It feels like your favorite memory. The one you keep adding onto because the details have gotten fuzzy, but you clutch onto it because it's too precious to let go of.

It feels like a–

It feels like–

Jeongguk takes his time with you.

It feels so good that it’s almost overwhelming in a way that you’ve never experienced before. It feels so good that tears sting behind your eyelids, so different from the tears you shed earlier.

He delicately untangles your hair, gets out all the knots he put in it. He cups your face, gently rubbing the pads of his thumbs under your eyes, getting the makeup off as best he can. He’s careful when he’s suds up your body, mindful of the light blossoms that he planted into your skin. The violet on your neck pulses under the care, a bloom that’s pretty, a bloom that aches, a bloom that feels good.

He’s adoring, he’s soft, he’s bliss.

When his lips kiss your cheek, it's almost platonic, simply because it lacks desire. It sounds bad, embarrassing maybe, that he’s not desiring your naked body in front of him, but it’s not– it’s something new and it's so incredibly wholesome. His kisses are so sweet, so pure, so innocent and just an expression of caring rather than wanting that it makes you want him in a way that scares you.

After the final rinse, you kiss his cheek. Hope and yearn that he can feel half of what he made you feel. You hope he knows what you mean when you say quietly, “Thank you.”

~~~

“Wear this one, you look good in white.”

Jeongguk has a fluffy grey towel tied around his hips, lingering water droplets disappearing when they trek far enough down his torso. And you’re scrunching your hair in a matching towel, warm from the heated towel rack. The atmosphere in his bedroom is warm too, soft and comfortable, sweet like a cup of hot tea.

He’s got one of his white shirts scrunched in his hands, ready to dress you. Quiet laughter putters from your lips as you reach your hands up and into the arm holes as he pulls the neck hole over your head. When you pop out Jeongguk is close enough for you to kiss him, so you do.

“We’ve kissed so much today,” he says thoughtfully, turning and digging in his drawers. Instead of taking care of himself, he finds a pair of your lounge shorts that you left here.

“I know, how gross,” you say with playful disgust in your tone, as you take that and step into the shorts. Panties are unnecessary apparently, since he doesn’t hand you one of the stray pairs you know are in his dresser.

He hums walking into the bathroom. “It’s nice, I like kissing you.”

You roll your eyes following him. Hopping onto the counter you watch as he does his skincare. “We already had sex, no need to butter me up, sir.”

The corners of his mouth turn up just barely as he tries not to smile, hardly glancing at you as he dabs his moisturizer in.

“I like it when you’re around,” he says simply.

Heat rushes to your face, and your heart beats loud in your ears and something feels so different.  

So of course you just change the subject.

“I’m so glad we ordered food before the shower.” You place a hand on your belly, “I’m so hungry.”

“Hopefully you clicked the right stuff, since you were, you know, a little distracted… seeing as we were kissing… so much… because I like to kiss you...”

“Do you want a kiss right now? Is that why you’re being annoying?”

He makes an offended expression before immediately going back to his normal face, tinted with faux nonchalance. He shrugs his tattooed shoulder, tapping the cream in. “I wouldn’t object to a kiss or two…”

And so he gets a kiss or two or three, soft, giddy little pecks.

He pulls away, and just looks at you for a few seconds, doe-eyes dancing across your features before falling and lingering on the lovebite he left that’s peeking out. The neck of his shirt is too big, hanging loose. His hand comes up and he fingers at the material like he’s thinking of straightening the shirt out for you.

He doesn’t, instead bringing the hand to your jaw, making you tilt your head, looking up at him.

“You’re so pretty,” he says, his thumb gliding on the apple of your cheek.

Your eyes fall shut, content. A lazy smile laces your words when you say, “Thanks.”

Cute kissy noises ring in your ears until they don’t, the doorbell taking their place.

You pull away so fast that Jeongguk is almost insulted. Jumping from the counter you squeal about the food, tapping his toweled butt on the way out of the bathroom, telling him to hurry up and get dressed as you rummage through your purse for your wallet.

“Wait I’ll pay,” he says, finally dropping his towel and snagging a pair of briefs.

“It’s okay!” you call over your shoulder, speed walking to his front door.

The walk from Jeongguk’s bedroom isn’t too long, but your thoughts are fast, running a mile a minute. The thought of how good today has been, how easy it is to be with him. How whenever you’re with him you find that your cheeks hurt when you go home, laughter constant, and smiles ever present. You think about how warm his home is, how warm he is, how being with him is a comfort that you’ve come to crave.

The smile that is on your face is unconscious, the remnants of the soft emotions swirling in your chest, feeling like you’ve finally pinpointed what's so different about today.

When you open the door, that lingering smile falls and that hazy feeling evaporates.

In front of you is not a delivery guy.

It’s the woman from the pictures. The framed one in the hallway, the one on top of Nari’s dresser, the one in the photo albums Jeongguk let you browse through when you wanted to see his daughter as a newborn. It’s the same woman that was in the picture he sent you.

And your heart drops when you take her in. You knew she was pretty, but the pictures don’t even scratch the surface. Even when her features are pulled in perturbed confusion, she’s beautiful. She’s put together, long dark hair styled and sleek, make up done minimally but elegantly, her parted lips a sheer coral. Her straight, dark brows are furrowed causing a slight wrinkle between them. It looks out of place, an imperfection that doesn’t belong.

Her sharp eyes scan you, both of you just kind of standing there in the doorway, taking the other in. They go from your wet hair, to your face, down to where Jeongguk’s shirt hangs loosely off your shoulder. Her gaze hardens as she lingers there for just a moment, before directing dark eyes back at you.

It feels like it’s been hours, that you both have been there, but in reality it's not even a minute. She looks like she’s going to say something, but the impatient baby in the woman’s arms makes herself known.

At the high pitched squeal that Nari lets out, you snap out of it, plastering a smile on your face. The little one is smiling, clearly excited to see you, her doe-eyes curling and getting mini puffs under them. When she leans away from her mom, arms reaching out towards you, it’s instinct when you go to take her from her mom.

“Hi! Sorry Gguk’s in–” You falter, arms raised halfway, when Nari gets pulled out of reach.

The woman doesn’t go as far as taking a step away from you, but she turns at the waist kind of putting herself and some distance between you and her baby. As you let your hands fall in timid, jerky movements, you look between the two in front of you, and Nari’s doing the same, a cute confused expression on her face like she doesn’t know why she wasn’t allowed to play with you.

And it’s not like you blame Nari’s mom. It’s very apparent that she has no clue who you are. If anything you think it’s good that her mom is protective enough to not just hand Nari over to someone she doesn’t know. It makes sense, but it stings.

“Ba?” Nari babbles, to her mom.

The woman’s cold gaze breaks at the sound of her daughter's voice, and morphs into one of quiet love as she directs her eyes to the baby, giving her a soft smile. She bounces Nari a little on her hip, and Nari giggles. When they are looking at each other, their profile resemblance is striking. Of course Nari’s features are still baby soft, but it's obvious that they have the same nose. Small, slightly upturned. The same lips too; plump with the upper lip almost rounded.

“Who is this, Riri?” she asks her baby playfully, her eyes finding you again at the tailend of her sentence.

She’s smiling, but her eyes are stony, guarded, as she looks at you expectantly.

“I’m __– I’m a uh… a friend of Jeongguk’s?”

Her eyes narrow for a fraction of a second when you say ‘friend’ and the coolness she’s emitting is enough for you to call for Jeongguk for your shoulder, needing the comfort of him. The woman in front of you is intimidating in a way you don’t think you could ever achieve. It’s something about the way she carries herself, so collected and aloof, like she’s mastered the art of keeping it together.

And you’re not scared of her, not really. But what are you supposed to do in this situation other than call for Jeongguk?

At the thought of him, you hear his voice come from behind you and when you turn, you see him walking out of his room, bottom half clothed in dark joggers, his top half bare as he clumsily pulls a shirt over his head.

“Do you need cash for the ti–” When his wet head of hair pops out of the neck hole, and he sees not one girl in front of him, but three, his voice cuts out, and he slows as he takes in the scene before him. You see how his chest expands as he takes a deep breath, like he’s preparing himself before quickening his pace.

Nari starts to kick in her mom’s hold when she sees her dad approaching, excited little gasps puffing out of her.

“Hi, little flower,” Jeongguk coos, smiling wide as he brings his hand up, tickling Nari’s neck, making the baby squirm and curl in on herself as she bubbles out a giggle. “Dasom,” he says as a greeting to his ex-wife, as takes his place next to you, his hand settling on your lower back for just a moment, like he’s letting you know he’s there.

Dasom lets the corners of her lips turn up slightly as she says, “Jeongguk.”

“What are you doing here?” he asks. You can tell he’s trying to keep his voice neutral.

“Something came up at work. I have to go to the headquarters a few cities over for a few days,” Nari grabs at the dainty necklace she’s wearing, and Dasom gently untangles her little fingers, offering her her wrist instead. A heavier, more sturdy piece of jewelry keeps Nari busy. “I texted you hours ago letting you know I was on my way.”

“I was busy. I didn’t have my phone on me,” he explains.

Dasom looks between you both. The freshly washed hair on both your heads, the mark on your neck. The too-big, white shirt you have on that’s clearly not yours. “I can see that,” she replies coolly.

And suddenly you feel so out of place, so uncomfortable. Standing between two people who used to share the home you’re surrounded by. Two people who share the sweet baby girl that’s content babbling to herself. Two people who were married, who were in love, who have so much history together. You know it’s mildly absurd, because they’re divorced, but you feel like you’re intruding, like you’re doing something wrong.

You’re just about to excuse yourself when Jeongguk sighs, runs a frustrated hand through his hair, reaching out and taking Nari from her mom. “__, can you take Nari and wait for me in the playroom?”

“Daaa,” she peeps happily in her dad’s big arms, as he hands her off to you.

“Kook–” Dasom says, uneasiness lacing her tone.

“She’s fine Dasom, she’s been with __ many times,” Jeongguk says with a finality to his tone.

Dasom says her goodbyes to Nari, a tense silence falling over the house as you walk away with the baby. It’s not till Dasom thinks you’re far enough away that she speaks up.

“Who is that, Jeongguk?”

Jeongguk shuts his eyes roughly when he hears a hint of confused hurt in her voice. He can tell she’s trying to mask it, but he’s known her for a long time. Remembers clearly what it sounds like, memories of all the painful talks preceding the divorce edging on his conscience.

“She’s a friend,” he sighs.

“How old are your friends these days?” Dasom questions, confusion turning to judgement– obvious in her tone and her stance, her arms crossing over her torso.

Jeongguk hangs his head and scrubs his hands over his face. “How was Nari?” he asks, trying to change the subject.

His ex has different plans. “How old is she?”

He looks up at her sharp tone, a surprised color to his features. He looks over his shoulder towards the playroom before he turns back to her, a soft incredulous scoff leaving his lips. “She’s old enough, and I’m not doing this with you. So if you don’t have any updates–” His hand is on the door in the process of inching it closed when Dasom interrupts him.

“You know,” she starts, “I never thought I’d have to worry about this with you. Thought you’d be able to keep your personal and parenting lives separate.”

And she knows exactly which buttons of his to push; of course she does. She was married to him for years, knew him better than anyone else at one point in time. She knows that insinuating that he is a lacking parent, that he doesn’t always put their daughter first, will irk him enough to pull a reaction out of him.

It’s purposefully done– vindictiveness an ugly side of his ex that doesn’t come out of her often, only when she’s hurt and wants to hurt back. Or at least it didn’t happen often. It’s been over a year, and people change.

“Are you sure you want to debate which of us has trouble separating and balancing things when you’re the one dropping our daughter off in the middle of your week with her, to go to work?” he asks, his tone icy. He knows her well too. Knows it’s the same insinuations that hurt him, that cut her as well.

Anger colors Dasom’s features as she takes a step closer to Jeongguk, her head tilted a little as she looks up at him. “I do it for her. To provide for her. You know that,” she spits, “And I keep my lovers away from her while I’m at it.”

Jeongguk laughs, like he can’t believe he’s having this conversation. “I’m sure you do, Dasom,” he pauses, debating on whether to add what he’s thinking. “And for the record, I don’t have ‘lovers’. I’m only seeing one person.”

“And are you planning on committing to her? Making it long term?”

Caught off guard doesn’t even really begin to cover the whiplash-like feeling that Jeongguk experiences when he hears the question.

He hesitates, flounders a little. He cares about you, likes you so, so much. And he’s not stupid– he knows that he feels something for you that’s vastly different from what he’s felt for the others before you but– you’re young. So young, with your whole life ahead of you. Meanwhile, he has his life already booked for the next 16 years, at least. He’s never really let himself think about things long term, because it just doesn’t seem realistic. Asking you to commit to not only him, but a two year old as well? It seems selfish to ask that of you, like an unintentional trap that steals your freedom. He can’t ask for that. He won’t.

“I…”

Dasom looks disillusioned, like she really did expect better from Jeongguk. “I didn’t think so. You’re not even dating her... She’s your ‘friend’?” she asks.

Jeongguk just looks at her with pursed lips and pinched brows.

“And when you’re not ‘friends’ anymore, Kook?” she asks again, “Are you just going to bring another ‘friend’into Nari’s life for her to get attached to just for them to leave again? And what about when she’s older? Do you want her thinking that’s what women do? Come and go?”

Dasom’s words are exaggerated and extreme– she doesn't know the circumstances between you and him, doesn’t know that it was Nari that introduced you to one another, so waiting to introduce you and his daughter wasn’t an option. And it’s not like Jeongguk is ever going to have a legion of women filtering through his home.

But the point is made all the same.

“No, of course I don’t want that,” he says defeated, as he tilts his head back for a moment, letting his eyes shut.

“Yeah, me either,” she says. Her voice lacks the judgment it held at the beginning of the conversion, being replaced by blasé melancholy. “So I hope she gets it out of your system. Please drop Nari off next Friday, just like always.”

Turning on her heel, Dasom makes to leave before she stops abruptly. She takes a deep breath with her head tilted back, before she’s looking down, like she’s tired. Like the fight with Jeongguk took a lot of her. She pulls a folder from her bag, turning back around and presenting it to Jeongguk.

“For Ri’s speech…” she says softly, “I took her to another speech pathologist yesterday. This one said try doing signs during meals. ‘All done’. ‘More’...” Dasom does the signs haphazardly waving her hands about. “Doctor said it...” She takes a deep breath, and laughs halfheartedly, and Jeongguk can see how she’s tearing up. “Well, like all the other doctor’s we’ve taken her to, they said it may help.”

Her eyes are glassy when she looks at him, and Jeongguk’s heart aches because he knows exactly how she feels.

The anxiety and constant worry you feel over your child’s well-being is one of the hardest things to navigate because you have to keep it together and not let yourself get defeated. You have to come to terms with the fact that sometimes there’s things that, as a parent, you can’t fix, and that sometimes you can do everything right and still have things go wrong– things that may never be able to go right.

He knows that there is an unexplainable guilt, that there’s always that little voice in the back of your head that tells you that maybe if you had done this, then that wouldn’t have happened. It’s a horribly helpless feeling, wanting nothing more than to make things better for your child, and not being able to.

“She’s fine you know,” he says softly, “she’s just taking her time.”

Dasom tries to nod, but she breaks. Her hands come up to cover her quivering chin and quiet her soft cries. She buries her face in her palms as her shoulders tremble.

“Hey, hey,” Jeongguk whispers, reaching out and pulling her to his chest. Her hands are still covering her face, so his arms circle around her as a whole and he rests his chin on her head and lets her cry, his own eyes stinging.

It’s only a minute or two that Dasom weeps against his chest. She’s then pulling away with a deep breath, blowing it out in that soothing way trying to calm herself, trying to regulate her breathing. She laughs, airy like she’s embarrassed, as she taps under her eyes, trying to save her makeup as best she can.

“Ah… sorry about that,” she says, “Haven’t cried in a while so that was bound to happen sometime soon.”

Jeongguk laughs quietly before he muses, “She can say juice now.”

Dasom rolls her eyes playfully. “Yeah… Joofs.”

They both laugh together, for a moment, a few moments, until it tapers off naturally. Leaving soft wistful smiles on their faces.

“Drive safe, Som-ie.”

~~~

“Yeah… Joofs.”

The laughter that echoes from Jeongguk’s foyer feels like a punch in the gut after everything that you’ve heard. All the things you felt earlier seem stupid and childish in hindsight.  

And yeah, you don’t blame Jeongguk for staying quiet when Dasom asked if he wanted to commit to you because that’s not something you guys have even touched on, but when he stayed silent as she went on about you just being his ‘friend’? Alluding to you just being a lay for him, just something he needs to ‘get out of his system’? Something disposable and unimportant?

You had at least expected him to defend you.

To tell her that while you may not be his girlfriend, you are important to him. More than a quick lay, more than just a young girl he needs to fuck out of his system. Because you know that’s exactly what she thinks you are. And what she thinks doesn't matter, not really, but if that’s what Jeongguk thinks?

Part of you knows that there’s no way that Jeongguk thinks that. That if he did, this thing between you both would have fizzled out by now or at least been harder to deal with. But that’s never been the case. It’s always been good with him, easy.

If he thought that way, he wouldn’t have been so worried in the beginning and would have instead jumped at the chance to get into your pants. You weren’t exactly subtle back then– there were plenty of opportunities for him to come onto you. But it literally took you throwing yourself at him for him to give in.

So like you know. You know, you know, you know in your heart that it’s not true, that he doesn’t think that little of you.

But his silence was enough to plant a seed of doubt, enough to break a little bit of trust. More than enough to hurt you.

“Naaa.”

You look down at Nari, and she reaches her hands up wanting to be held. A soft, pitiful laugh falls from your lips and you bend to pick her up.

“Sorry, wasn’t playing with you was I?”

Nari looks at you, studies you with those big eyes of hers. She pats at your cheek, a little roughly, but you can tell she’s trying to be gentle. Her little hand goes from patting to petting, almost like she’s trying to soothe you, like she can tell you’re upset.

“Buu?” she asks.

In reality you have no idea what she’s saying. But it feels like she’s asking if you’re okay, and just like if an adult were to ask you that when you’re close to losing it, close to breaking– it makes you cry.

Not the embarrassing type of cry, but just a tiny cry in front of the sweetest, tiny human. Your eyes just tear up, and your chin trembles a little bit as you try to muster up a small smile, but when you blink a couple tears spill over.

Nari gasps. “Nuuu!” she tells you, before she’s wrapping her tiny bread arms around your neck, clutching onto you like she’s trying to squeeze out all of the sad.

It makes you let out a watery laugh, and you squeeze back, enough so that she croaks a little like a frog. When you pull back she’s giggling in that pure baby way that probably has healing powers or something.

“You are so smart,” you tell her, sniffing a little, trying to get yourself together. You’re not sure if Dasom left yet, or how much longer it will be before Jeongguk comes back, and you don’t want him to know you were crying, or eavesdropping.

She tilts her head at you, then leans in with her lips pulled between her teeth making them pop out when they are against your cheek, a tiny ‘maa’ sounding with her smooch.

“That’s a new type of kiss,” you tell her.

“Sol-mi, Yoongi and Jimin’s daughter, taught her at the party.”

Whipping around at the sound of his voice, you turn and see Jeongguk leaning against the doorway with two glasses of wine in his hands and a sippy cup tucked into his arm. He gives you a soft smile, and you smile back because that’s the only thing you know how to do when you’re with him. Instinctive.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hi,” he says back.

“DAAADAAA!” Nari screeches.

You pull back, wincing for your ear drum, as you let Nari down with an endeared laugh. She toddles over to her dad, tugging on his joggers.

“Hi my babygirl,” he says. Then laughs when she tugs particularly hard, “Hey– you’re gonna pull Daddy’s pants down, quit it.”

“Joofs,” she says, grabby hands reaching for the sippy cup she spotted.

“I see how it is,” he says, handing you your glass and then grabbing the juice, “Didn’t even miss me?”

He manages to sit down without his hands and without squishing his daughter, and you follow suit, watching the daddy-daughter moment unfold, quietly sipping on your wine. Trying your best to push everything else out of your mind, trying to get that almost... safe, warm feeling back. The one that you always get when you’re with Jeongguk. It’s been missing since he came into the room.

“Give Daddy a kiss and then you can have your juice,” he angles his cheek to her and then adds on, “Also say please.” like it’s an afterthought.

You shake your head, smiling, and Jeongguk flicks his eyes to you, mirroring your expression.

“Peeb,” she spouts before she gives him a very quick, rather half-assed kiss. She doesn’t even do the ‘maa’. Her hands open out in front of her, expectant and ready for her drink.

Jeongguk tuts at her, but hands the juice over. “You’re rotten, missy.”

Nari says nothing, just waddles so she's standing in front of him with her back to his face. She plops herself right in his lap, his criss-crossed legs making a perfect Nari-shaped seat. Sipping away with her drink in one hand, her other comes down to Jeongguk’s tattooed arm that he wrapped around her belly. Tracing them with her pudgy little fingers, she tries her best to look down while simultaneously keeping her drink in the proper position.

It’s quiet for a bit, just Nari’s soft drinking noises. You take the moment to get up and grab something from your stuff in Jeongguk’s room, before returning. As you’re walking past Jeongguk back to your spot across from him, you feel his hand tug at the one you have dangling by your side.

You look at him, a small questioning noise sounding.

He pulls, making you bend at the waist getting closer to his level, and when he tilts his head back to look up at you, his eyes flicker to your lips and then he licks his and then he’s craning his neck and then he’s kissing you softly.

It’s fleeting but it's sweet. It makes the warm feeling settle in your heart again, just for a moment before it hides away, somewhere within you. Your eyes dart to Nari. Kisses usually being reserved for alone time.

He shakes his head. “It’s alright… Sorry that happened while you were here… Me and Dasom usually communicate better than that.”

You take a seat next to him and Nari, careful of his wine glass. “It’s okay…”

Gazes meet for a few seconds looking over the other like you’re both trying to figure something out. Things different from the ‘different’ you felt earlier. This different feels like something is off; the first one felt like a dream. Maybe it was.

“Okay,” he replies lightly, but he sounds unsure, like he doesn't know if it actually is ‘okay’. His eyes drop to the small bag that you brought into the room. “Whatcha got?”

You tell him you got Nari something for her birthday, nothing big but just something that reminded you of her. You ask him if it’s okay to give it to her.

He says of course, why wouldn’t it be?

For some reason the tiny exchange hurts.

Lacking an answer, you pinch at the little fat roll on Nari’s thigh, her tiny jean shorts putting all the chub on display. She looks up at you, and you raise the bag and shake it a little. Her smile grows as she realizes it's for her. Jeongguk is abandoned, your lap now occupied.

“She has no loyalty at all,” Jeongguk says.

“She’s just making as many allies as she can, and I think that is very smart of her,” you defend, watching as Nari plucks tissue paper after tissue paper out of the bag (with only one small hand, the other still holding her juice), until she’s squealing. Your face lights up at her enthusiasm, and hers lights up at the toy, and you don’t see it, but Jeongguk’s lights up at you both.

You’ve been good with her since that day you found her at your work, and Jeongguk notices when you go out of your way to ask about her, to be kind to her, patient with her... to take care of her. Never once have you treated her like she was a burden, or an inconvenience.

He sees the way that Nari is with you, too.

Sees how happy she gets when you walk in his front door, how she always shares her things with you in that sweet way that babies do when they like someone. She even asks about you when you don't come around for a few days. A babbled version of your name peeping from her little lips.

It’s no secret that his baby has grown attached to you, come to love you. Dasom’s words ring in his ears. The thing she said about Nari getting used to someone he brings into her life, just for them to not be permanent.  

A medium sized, pink, stuffed Narwhal is pulled from the bag by the horn, and Nari swings it to the side to show her dad, just for a moment, before she’s squeezing it to her chest. She’s cooing, kinda nuzzling into it.

“Ba buuu,” she says softly, eyes still on the gift like it's something wondrous, rather than just a small plush. Jeongguk grows soft and your heart squeezes in your chest. The warmth comes back, flickers before going out again.

“What is it?” Jeongguk asks around a sip of his wine.

“A narwhal. You know, Nar-i, Nar-whal.”

His mouth twitches, fighting a smile, but he just nods. Until he can’t hold his laughter in anymore, making you laugh too by consequence. Easy.

The little crows feet at the corners of his eyes make an appearance and he scrunches his nose at you as he quiets. His hair is still just a little bit damp. “It’s cute,” he amends. “You didn’t have to get her anything, but thank you for thinking about her.”

The smile on his lips is tiny, but you can tell it’s genuine. Without laughter lightning up his face, you realize how tired he looks, warn out.

“Are you okay?” you say, arms raising so Nari is able to get up, making her way to her other toys, the narwhal tucked into her side. She grabs a babydoll, holds it to the narwhal and makes them move around like she’s introducing her toys.

Jeongguk sighs, and leans back on his hands. “Just wasn’t expecting that, is all… I get stressed when things don’t go as planned.”

“That’s why you broke out the wine in the middle of the day?” you ask with a teasing tone.

He rolls his eyes playfully. “One glass won’t hurt…”

The doorbell cuts off your reply. The food’s here.

~~~

The headboard behind Jeongguk’s back is hard, just like he is under you.

But his touches are soft, just like his kisses.

You’re straddling him, your hips just barely rocking over him as you lick into his mouth. Mewl against his lips. Hands in his hair, not pulling, but just twining your fingers in his locks, keeping him close.

It’s slow, unhurried and gentle. When he brings his palms to your chest over his shirt, he feels how your nipples pebble through the material as he squeezes, rolls them in his hands. So responsive to his touch, you pull away for just a moment to breathe out a pleased sigh before giving him a few cute pecks. Pushing into your lips, he deepens the kisses, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips until you open up for him.

He feels young again, like he’s making out with his crush, heavy petting because they are too scared to go all the way, but too into each other to not give in just a little. He hasn’t felt this way in so long. You gasp into his mouth when he pinches your nipple between his fingertips. His cock pulses, but his heart clenches.

It’s like reality is finally catching up to him. Reminding him that you and him were never supposed to get in so deep, were never supposed to get so entangled in each other’s lives. Fun and casual. That’s what it’s supposed to be. But it’s so much more than that now. At least for him it is.

His heart clenches because he’s not young anymore, but you still are.

The baby monitor that goes off with hiccuping cries just confirms his feelings.

“Sorry,” he says against your lips, his hands moving to your hips, squeezing before he helps maneuver you off of him.

“Bring her back in here,” you suggest.

Jeongguk pauses, twisting to crack his back. “You sure?”

You hum, “Yeah, wanna hang out with you both.”

And again his heart pulls, but he nods with a soft smile and a quick kiss before he’s hurrying out of the room.

Hands scrub over your face as you wait for him, your head knocking against the headboard. You purposefully focus on playing a game on your phone while you wait, refusing to let your thoughts loop incessantly around your brain.

It's a little while when Jeongguk walks back in with Nari on his hip. The sight makes you coo.

Nari’s looking around like she’s still a little out of it, her tiny round body in a light pink nightie covered in little bunnies sleeping on clouds and moons. Instead of her hair being in her trademark little ponies, it’s down, falling in messy little wisps around her face. The narwhal is clutched in her tiny hand by the horn and when she sees you, she blinks a few times before she smiles around the paci in her mouth.

“Hi sweet girl,” you say, when Jeongguk places her on the bed.

She tries to walk over to you, but the bed is soft and she’s very much still tired so she stumbles, hits the mattress with a small oof and an airy little giggle. Crawling the rest of the way she sits herself next to you, puts her plush in her lap.

“Think someone had a bad dream,” Jeongguk says around a yawn, taking his spot on the bed. “Also sorry it took a second, had to change her pull up.”

You hum, your hand coming up to pet at her hair, dark, silky, and baby scented.

“Wanna watch something, boba?” Jeongguk asks, laying himself on his side, one hand propped under his head, the other on the remote.

Nari nods, hunkers down in the fluffy pillow behind her. She looks at you and pats the sheets, as if telling you to lay down like her and her Daddy. Of course you listen.

It’s calm and quiet, just the children’s show playing in the background that you all are watching. You and Jeongguk half heartedly, Nari with round eyes. She lets out little laughs every now and then, her blinks slow and heavy. Jeongguk’s got a hand resting on Nari’s tummy and her little hand holds onto his thumb.

The scene is domestic.

“She doesn’t have nightmares often, does she?” you ask quietly.

Jeongguk glances at you, shakes his head. “Not here at least.”

“Has she always been a co sleeper?”

Jeongguk shakes his head again. “Not till after the divorce,” he says. “And I wouldn’t say she still co sleeps… most nights she sleeps on well on her own. I just don’t tell her no if she wants to come into my room.”

At the mention of the divorce your brain begins to whirl.

It’s not something he brings up often, and it’s never really bothered you. But after today, after you saw and heard how he and his ex interacted… It makes you curious. They seem to get along decently well, and they both clearly love Nari.

You sound a bit timid when you ask, “Why did you guys split up?”

Jeongguk’s quiet, doesn’t acknowledge that he heard you even though you know that he did. You worry that you’ve said something wrong, and you’re about to apologize but he speaks up.

“I’ll tell you… just getting my thoughts in order.”

~~~

Jeongguk stares down at the teeny, tiny baby in the bassinet. The light pink of the skirt at the bottom matches the accents on the walls of her nursery.

Her big eyes are watching the fairy mobile, big felt flowers dangling above her, the softest baby coos leaving her mouth every once in a while. She was already up when he got home from work.

When he puts his hand inside the baby bed and extends one of his fingers petting at her small hand, the baby jumps a little like she didn’t know he was there, but recognition is instant and she smiles up at him, her tiny fingers clutching around his.

“Hi miss Nari,” he says quietly, “How long have you been up, hmm? Bout time for some milk isn’t it?”

She blows a bubble up at him.

His heart swells as he picks her up, a big hand supporting her head as he pulls her to his chest. A detour to the changing table precedes his walk to the living room, where his wife is sat cross legged on the floor, papers and her laptop scattered in front of her on the coffee table. The video baby monitor is propped up as well.

“Hi honey,” Jeongguk says.

Dasom looks over her shoulder, sees the two of them and smiles. “Hey, how was work? And how’s our baby?” She types something on her laptop.

“Baby is good and work was work. Remember how I said we are thinking of setting up another branch?” Jeongguk asks, swaying a little with his cheek resting on Nari’s head. She smells like baby and Dasom hums in acknowledgement. “My brother finally got me a list of locations, so just a lot of assigning scouts to scope them out and budgeting for the cost of their travel.”

“That’s great, babe,” Dasom says.

Jeongguk watches her for a few more moments, as she flips through the papers like she’s looking for something. He walks around, so that he can sit in the loveseat off to the side, adjusts Nari so that she’s cradled in the bend of his arm. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“Just reviewing everything that’s happened at the office over the last few months…” She flicks her eyes to him.

Jeongguk frowns. “You still have two and a half weeks before you have to go back, don’t you?”

“Yeah, wanna be prepared though.”

Nari starts to wiggle in his arms, fussy. “Did you ever see if you could get a few more weeks since you guys were in the hospital for so long? That’s hardly a leave, if you ask me.”

She laughs lightly. “That’s true. But I don’t think it’s necessary? She’s doing really well, and I think that that Montessori nursery will be good for her.”

Tension fills Jeongguk’s body. “I thought we talked about letting Yeoreum watch her when you go back to work.”

“Well yes. We talked about it– but we didn’t commit to–”

“We didn’t commit to Montessori either–”

“What benefits is Nari getting if we do that?” Dasom says, finally giving Jeongguk her full attention. “No offense to Jin’s wife, but it’s not like she’s certified to care for newborns.”

“She’s a mother, Som. A very good one, she knows how to care for a baby. And Nari would be the only baby she’s taking care of so it’s one on one attention and it’s someone we know and trust so–”

“Montessori has curriculum, and it teaches children to be independent–”

“She’s a baby! She doesn’t need to be independent. She needs to be–”

Nari’s fussiness has escalated, her tiny cries filling the living room. Jeongguk starts rocking her, shushing her with soft coos. He tries the pacifier attached to her onesie, but she just pushes it out, crying louder.

“She’s hungry,” Jeongguk says, getting to his feet so he can hand her to her mom.

“I pre-pumped when she was napping earlier. There’s a bottle with 6.5 ounces in the fridge.”

Picking his battles and barely suppressing a frustrated sigh, he walks to the kitchen and places the bottle in the warmer. Nari’s cries continue to sound as he waits, bouncing her a little, rubbing her back.

Back in the loveseat, he tries to give Nari her dinner but she’s grumpy, turning her head or pushing the nipple out of her mouth, growing angrier by the minute, her tiny body turning red from how hard she’s crying.

“She’s not taking the bottle, I think she–”

“Is it warm enough?”

“Yes, I think she wants you.”

Nari’s mom looks over the top of her laptop and nods. “I’m just about done–”

“Dasom, please,” Jeongguk says, “She’s hungry and she wants her mom.”

Almost like a fog clears, Dasom’s face falls before she’s nodding hastily. “Yeah, yeah… I’m sorry I– bring her to me.”

As soon as Nari’s in her mom’s arms she quiets some, and once Dasom holds her close and starts to feed her it’s serene again. Nari’s little hand opens and closes rhythmically, until her mom gives her her finger, like Jeongguk did early. Ever since she came home from the hospital, she’s liked to hold hands.

“I’m sorry,” Dasom whispers again, without looking at Jeongguk. He can hear the guilt in her voice.

He tells her it's okay and that he’s going to shower.

Later when Nari’s down for the night and he and his wife are laying in bed, Dasom apologizes again. Tells Jeongguk that she was just stressed with preparing for work and juggling the baby.

“Som-ie, that reminds me, I was thinking…”

She turns to look at him from his side of the bed, smiling. “Not too hard, hopefully.”

“Ha-ha,” he says, unamused. He continues nervously, like he’s walking on eggshells. “But I was thinking– what if you took off for the first year or so?”

The shift in atmosphere is instant. Dasom goes stiff in her spot next to him, and she says silent.

“I only say it because we would be fine, you know?” He tries to explain, “My job brings in more than enough for us to be okay, and if you just stayed home with her, you could teach her the way that you want and I would get the peace of mind knowing that she’s safe with someone I love and trust. We would solve the daycare dilemma…”

Still, his wife says nothing, her brows furrowed.

“And you wouldn’t be so stressed…” Jeongguk continues, “you wouldn’t have to worry about work on top of being a mom… You would never miss any of her firsts and–”

“When we talked about having a baby, I told you I didn’t want to be one of those moms.”

Dasom’s voice is upset, her tone hard.

“I know, I know,” Jeongguk says softly, “But it wouldn’t be for forever. Just until she’s older… I read that companies will give extended leaves sometimes, kind of like a sabbatical.”

She laughs in disbelief, “How long have you been thinking about this? I’m not taking an extended leave, or a sabbatical, or a hiatus or whatever it is you’ve been researching, Jeongguk. I worked so hard to get to where I am,” she closes her eyes like she’s trying to stay calm, “You can’t ask me to throw that away.”

“That’s not what I’m asking–”

“But it is!” she exclaims, “Even being gone for 3 months has already put me back. My position isn’t one that can stay open for extended periods of time. And that means if I take off for even just a year– it’ll be given to someone else. Someone else will come into what I built and either reap the benefits or ruin it.”

Jeongguk stays quiet, looking at the pattern of the duvet over his lap.

It’s softer when Dasom speaks up again. “If that’s the kind of mother you want me to be– the kind that has no substance, or passions, or goals outside of being a mom– then… you may as well get the papers.”

Jeongguk’s head snaps up, his expression shocked and confused. “Divorce? Why is that the first thing your mind goes to?”

Dasom runs her hands through her hair, pressing the heels of her palms against her temples. “I’m not gonna bend on this, Kook.”

And it was almost like when the idea of divorce was spoken into existence, it was something that hung over them, like a curse that took only 7 months to come true.

~~~

“Dasom is a good mom,” Jeongguk says slowly, “We just parent very differently.”

You stay quiet, waiting for him to continue, adjusting yourself so that you’re looking at him.

“That’s the root of it, really. We couldn’t agree on anything when it came to Nari. And obviously we talked about things before she was born, and had a loose idea of how we wanted to raise her…” He stops for a moment to think.

“It’s just so different when they are born, like you think you know what it means to be a parent but you really don’t. Not until it’s already happened and they are in your arms and you’re searching for a daycare and coming across horror stories about the workers abusing the kids. Or thinking about how it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she doesn’t talk but also knowing how much harder her life will be if she doesn’t.”

You can feel a heaviness cloud the room. Jeongguk is so good at keeping this part of himself tucked away, good at putting on a brave face that when you look at him and see him looking down at his baby with worried, furrowed brows, your heart aches.

“And it led to a lot of really bad fights and it just got to a point where one day I decided I wouldn’t raise a baby in a home that was tumultuous.”

“What did you guys argue about?” you ask softly.

Jeongguk gives you a sad smile. “More like what didn’t we argue about. Daycare… But I’ll admit I agreed to it before she was born and then changed my mind... Her speech, how to deal with tantrums, where she slept, what she ate. I think Dasom’s too tough, she thinks I’m too soft…” he taps his fingers on Nari’s belly, “She thinks I’m part of the reason why she doesn’t talk. That because I dote on her, Nari thinks that she doesn’t need to use words so she just doesn’t.”

Your brows furrow. “Babies hit milestones at different rates, my cousin didn’t talk at all until he was three… Taking care of her isn’t hindering her development.”

“Thank you,” he says, quietly. “I think she’s starting to understand that too, as we keep getting outside opinions…”

He falls silent and you can tell he’s sad, his hand coming up to push Nari’s hair off of her forehead, the baby now sleeping, her round tummy expanding as she takes deep breaths. You feel bad, having brought the tense atmosphere on with your questions.

“Nari’s so smart, Gguk,” you say, kind of hasty, eager to make him feel better. “Like earlier I was upset, and she just knew… she’s so emotionally intelligent and has such a pure heart–”

“You were upset earlier?” Jeongguk asks, his gaze questioning as he looks at you.

Your mouth opens and closes like you’re trying to find the right words, but none will come out.

“Why were you upset?” he asks again, genuine worry on his face.

And just like a few hours ago, when you felt like Nari was asking you if you were okay; when Jeongguk asks you why you were upset, tears begin to well in your eyes.

At the sight of tearing up, Jeongguk sits up gingerly trying to not wake Nari, but also be attentive at the same time. “Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me…”

You sit up too, looking at Jeongguk for a moment before looking down at your hands in your lap. A tear lands on your skin when you blink, and you take a deep breath before you say, “I… I heard you earlier…”

His face pulls into one of confusion. “Me and Dasom?”

Your head tilts back, and you sound exasperated when you say, “Who else?”

Jeongguk thinks for a moment, goes over what he and his ex talked about, remembers her being a bit touchy about your age, and then he thinks he gets it. His features soften as he says, “Don’t listen to her… seeing you just caught her off guard, she–”

You give a hopeless watery laugh, turning to look at him with sad eyes. “It’s not what she said, it’s what you didn’t say.”

And once again confusion takes over his features, his mind trying to comprehend how and why something he never even said could hurt you to the point of you sniffling in his bed, your eyes begging him to get it. He feels bad when he says, “I don’t understand?”

It was never in the plan for you to be the girl that’s crying about why a man did or didn’t do something– that’s never been who you are. You’ve never really cared enough to get upset, you’ve always been independent, just cutting your losses and moving on.

But with Jeongguk, cutting your losses feels a lot like cutting out part of your heart, and you don’t think you’ll make it if you do that. One can live with half their lungs, only one of their kidneys… but no one ever lasts long when part of their heart goes missing. Jeongguk has become vital to you.

“Jeongguk,” you whisper, “What are we doing?”

Maybe it’s unfair of you to ask him something like that, when you both agreed to something carefree, no strings attached. But you think that falling in love with someone is a lot like how Jeongguk described being a parent: You think you know what it means, but you really don’t. Not until it’s already happened.

Because that’s what felt different prior to opening that door and letting doubt in with the breeze. Everything felt warmer, easier, safer, better because it was laced with the realization that you love Jeongguk.

His face has fallen when you look at him, waiting for his reply. The corners of his lips are down turned, and his brows are turned up. He begins to shake his head softly, his mouth parting a few times before he’s raising his shoulders in a hopeless way.

“I– I don’t know anymore,” he whispers back.

That’s the answer you expected, but it still makes you exhale pain, like his words knock the wind out of you. It’s shaky when you catch your breath, but you nod.

“I think I should leave for tonight,” you tell him, starting to push his comforter to the side.

Jeongguk feels his heart start to race, and he reaches out for you, his hand landing on your shoulder. “What? Right now? It’s the middle of the night– don’t– it’s–”

“If you don’t want me to leave,” you interrupt him, “then we need to talk.”

His mouth snaps shut and he rolls his lips between his teeth like he’s thinking. He glances at the baby sleeping between you, and gives you a quick nod. “Yeah, okay… Just not here, I don’t want her waking up again… let me get the monitor from her room. I’ll meet you in the living room.”

Nodding wordlessly, you slip out of the room.

You’re pacing lightly, in nothing but his shirt that hits high on your thigh and a pair of panties, when Jeongguk comes out. He’s still shirtless, but he pulled on some joggers before leaving the room. One hand is pushing his hair back like he’s stressed, and the other is holding the baby monitor. He places it on the counter, and turns to you. A sad smile is offered, and you give him one back because it’s instinct.

It seems like neither of you know where to begin, both just breathing heavy in the artificial light. You take a deep breath.

“I wanted you to defend me,” you admit.

Jeongguk stays quiet, but his brows pinch.

“Or maybe like… defend us…” Embarrassment creeps into your bones.

“Defend us over what?” he asks. He doesn’t sound like he’s being dense, but like he actually doesn’t know.

Sighing, you say, “The way she talked about me, Gguk… She said I was something you needed to ‘get out of your system’... just a friend you fuck that’s disposable and unimportant and–”

“You know that’s not true,” he interjects.

“Yeah I do. Why didn’t you tell her that?” You can feel the first licks of anger in your chest, your voice coming out harsher than you intend. “Why did you let her talk about me like I’m just some stupid kid that doesn’t know what she wants? Like you don’t know what you want?”

Jeongguk thinks about it, realizes the answer is quite simple.

“Because I don’t know what I want, and I don’t think that you know what you want either.”

You look taken aback, and anger colors your features. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that this turned into something it was never supposed to and now we don’t know how to navigate it or what we want from each other anymore,” Jeongguk explains, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice.

It’s true and it’s not at the same time. Because Jeongguk knows what he wants, at least to some extent, but he knows he can’t have it. Meaning that if he can’t have what he wants, he doesn’t know what he wants instead of that. And he supposes he can’t speak for you, but he doesn’t correct himself, instead says, “We’re in too deep, __… I care about you.”

It doesn’t sound like much, but you know what he means… know that it’s a confession of some sort.

Tentative hope bubbles in your chest at his words, and you take a few steps closer to him. “That’s not a bad thing, I care too. We both care so we can–” you pause, and look up at him. “We can just take the next step or something, right?”

Jeongguk smiles softly, and his hands come up to cup your face and it’s warm again, and it’s safe when you’re in his palms and when he’s kissing you. Your hands come up to just hold at his wrists, eyes shutting, and it’s sweet again and–

“It’s not that simple, baby…”

–and it’s over.

“There’s something that Dasom said that’s true.”

And you know it’s childish but you shake your head in his hands and tears begin to brim. She ruined everything. She planted that seed of doubt in both your heads, and she’s the reason why Jeongguk doesn’t feel safe anymore and why his hands aren’t warm and why everything is falling apart. You squeeze your eyes shut and scrunch your brows together, a few tears spilling over. “I don’t want to talk about her,” you whisper.

He smiles, a sad curve to his lips. “I know, you don’t... But we both need to hear it… We don’t agree on a lot when it comes to Nari, but she was right when she said that thing about people coming into Nari’s life and then leaving after she gets attached. That’s not fair to Nari and it was selfish of me to let it happen.”

“How do you know I’m just going to leave?” you ask.

“Because I’m not going to let you stay,” Jeongguk whispers, his thumb wiping away the tears that have already started to flow.

Words don’t even come to you, because of how badly it hurts. And you’re doing your best to keep it as together as you can because you aren’t pathetic. You’re not going to beg him to let you stay but you want to understand why. Your voice cracks when you ask him.

“You’re too young, __. And I’m not saying that’s why I don’t think you know what you want… But I don’t think you know what being with me long term means, and what you would be missing out on… I’m not going to trap you, it’ll just lead to you resenting me,” he says gently. His hands have left your face, and he walks around a little like he’s trying to gather his thoughts. “And there’s just so much that I have to balance. I don’t know if I have room or the time–”

It feels like a slap in the face. How did everything change so quickly from this morning?

“There was room in your bed for me,” you interrupt him, bitter pain lacing your words. “You had time to fuck me.”

He winces. “You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he tells you gently, “I just meant… I think I need to think about things, reevaluate my priorities–”

It sounds a lot like what you said earlier, when you were under him, taunting him with kisses.

You hum, “I just think you need to reevaluate your priorities, maybe.”

“And what do you think my priorities should be, __?” he whispers, eyes searching your face, lingering on your lips, a fond look coloring his features.

“Well, right now,” you start, looping your arms around his neck, “I think you should really focus on that plank, and on that kiss you’re dying to give me.”

And god, you wish you could go back. Wish you could rewind and just replay everything up until the doorbell rang. But you can’t because the reality of the situation is that this was always going to end.

Jeongguk has his mind made up. The fear of you leaving him and Nari and the fear of you resenting him if you stayed are inevitable feelings that he would have realized eventually. He has priorities and if he doesn’t change the way he thinks, it won’t ever work because–

“Because I’m not one of them…” you realize quietly. He cares, but not enough.

Jeongguk’s composure breaks and it’s written all over his face, how much it hurts him to hurt you, even if it’s not intentional. “I’m sorry,” he says, and it sounds desperate like he’s yearning for you to know that he means it. “But it’s always going to be her, Nari will always be the most important thing to me.”

And you won’t beg for a place in his life, but you want him to understand.

“I’m not asking to be the most important thing in your life, that’s not what I want,” you tell him.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“I want you to understand that I just want to be with you,” you tell him.

He’s by the couch now, sitting on the armrest. His lips are pressed in a tight line, and you can see redness around his eyes from fighting tears of his own. You’re still by the counter where he left you.

“It doesn’t have to be so extreme, Gguk… It’s not like we’re getting married, we would just be taking a next step–”

“But we might, __!” he yells, before shutting his eyes roughly and taking a deep breath. His tone is softer when he continues. “Obviously I wouldn’t spring that on you, but being with me means that you have to be okay with a lot of things,” he says.  

When you ask him what kinds of things he says, “You would have to be okay with never coming first, with me cancelling on you whenever something comes up with Nari. You would have to be okay with me still having a relationship with my ex because I refuse to let my baby have parents that hate each other.”

You try to keep your face straight but he must be able to see how he’s getting into your head because he continues, almost like he’s trying to convince you it’s not worth it being with him.

“At 22 you have to be okay with potentially getting married, with being a stepmom… I know you care about Nari, but if you were to commit to me, you would have to commit to her too. There would be boundaries that me and Dasom make, and you would have to respect them. You and her would have to learn to get along.”

“You’re only 22, __,” he continues, his voice borders on whining, like he just wants you to get it. “You don’t want that. You would lose your freedom… while your friends are travelling or doing whatever, you’ll be in a relationship, tied down… I won’t do that to you, __.” He looks at you for a moment. “Maybe you want a relationship,” he amends, trying to acknowledge your feelings. “But you don’t want an instant family, it’s too much for someone so young. It’s even a lot for people my age.”

“Why does it have to be so… all or nothing?” you ask, a little desperate because it's hard to understand the way he thinks.

“I can’t think short term when I have a baby who depends on me long term,” he replies.

“Then what have we been doing this whole time?”

Jeongguk opens his hands, turns his palms up like he’s giving up. “I was selfish and I got caught up… I made a mistake.”

A mistake. Your heart breaks a little but it beats loud in your ears as you let his words sink in. It's a lot to take in, especially when you two haven’t spoken about being in a committed relationship even once before. And it's confusing because he said he cared.

“I thought you cared about me… Why does it feel like you’re trying to scare me away?” you ask him, voice hurt.

Jeongguk looks at his hands, like he can’t face you. “I do care about you, and I’m not trying to scare you,” he says quietly. “I’m just telling you a fraction of the things that you really need to think about.”

And think you do.

Do you really want all that? Was he right when he alluded to you losing more than you gain? Are you ready to get into a relationship with someone who has marriage as the end goal when you don’t even have your life figured out? Are you really mature enough to handle his relationship with his ex, when you can’t even maturely handle things with your roommates sometimes?

Would being with you be a good thing for him and Nari? Or would they be better off with someone else? Someone with goals and passions, and their life a little more figured out. Maybe someone who has a kid of her own, because she knows what it’s like already. Someone older and more mature with a good job. Someone who is nothing like you.

You didn’t even notice that you started crying, but when you come back, your eyes are blurry and your cheeks are sticky with old and new tears.

“Okay,” you say. You try to smile, but your chin is quivering. “I’ll let you know when I’ve thought through everything.”

When you go back to his room to get you things, you give Nari a tiny kiss, and you tell her that you’ll miss her. As you walk past Jeongguk to his front door, he doesn’t try to stop you this time.

You love Jeongguk, you’re sure that you do, but maybe being with him isn’t what's best. Doubt has made a home in your heart, that warmth you long for nowhere to be seen or felt.

~~~~

AYOOOOO don’t scream at me too much, that's not the end lmao but whoa... how’d they go from kissing to crying just like that hmm... also, opinions on the ex wife?? genuinely curious bc i actually dont hate her ?? 🤔 anyway, i hope you liked it, if you did please do all the things~~ please reblog, like, comment, send an ask... very curious about how we feel about this one 🙇🏻‍♀️ thanks for reading and as always i love u, sorry im posting late lol byeeee <3

[tartglias]

undercover

characters: fatui harbinger ! reader x scaramouche + childe + signora (separate)

prompt: you had been away on an undercover mission for a while, but they find you at an unusual place

note: i was listening to yes or yes by twice when this came to my mind so idk I HAD TO WRITE IT (its a bit messy though i apologize)

☆☆☆☆

Scaramouche

He glared at the door of the tavern before taking a deep breath and walking in. He didn't even want to be there, but his subordinates were stupid enough to not be able to locate you themselves, so he felt forced to come himself.

It's been a while since he last saw you, he heard from the 11th harbinger that you got ordered to go undercover in the region of Fontaine.

But now, the Tsarista needed you back, reason why now he tracked you down and is currently standing awkwardly by the bar.

He tried to scan the area with his eyes in order to find you, but unfortunately for him, he was only met with the weird glances from strangers.

"Looking for someone?" He heard a deep voice coming from beside him, it was the bartender. He quickly put on his facade, and smiled at him. "Just a friend, they told me to meet them here today but I presume they haven't arrived yet"

"A nice place for a date, my friend. The show is about to start, can I serve you something to drink while you wait?" The bartender asked.

Scaramouche was about to thunder the man and correct him saying it was not a date, just business. But it's not like he cares, anyways. He smiled instead, and said "Just water will be fine, thank you"

Then, as the man behind the bar nodded, lights went out. Smoke started coming out from the stage in front of him, and then, a group of dancers appeared. Their backs were facing the audience, and their outfits were all colorful and sparkly. "How disgusting" he mumbled to himself.

The moment the dancers turned around and you appeared at the centre, looking as bright and beautiful as ever, his mouth dropped

What were you doing there?! It was supposed to be a top secret mission, so why were you performing in a tavern where the spotlight was clearly all on you?

To make it more unbelievable for him, you started singing a cheerful and bubbly song

Oh boy

His mouth and eyes were wide open, and Scaramouche has never been so shocked in his life

It was just very odd to see you like that, because he knew the real you. You were almost as sadistic as him, often laughing at the pain your vision brought to people. That's why he took a liking on you, because at the end of the day, you were almost as bad as him. The only difference is that you were mostly tolerated and respected by the fellow fatui harbingers, and also, you knew how to keep your mouth shut when necessary.

So this was a big contrast, now you were singing a cheerful song about love and positivity. It was a 180 degree turn, so he couldn't help but feel shocked, but slightly in a good way.

When the song finished, you quickly spot him and shot him a knowing glance that said "we'll talk later", before your smile reappeared in your face as you bowed and thanked the other customers.

Childe

Unlike Scaramouche, he was simply wandering around the city of Inazuma when he found the café you were currently working at.

He finished his mission a bit earlier than usual, so why not walk around the city his dear fellow fatui harbinger grew up in? Who knows? Maybe he will meet someone who is willing to exchange precious information about the 6th harbinger. That way, he would rile him up and eventually get to fight him.

That was, until he saw a much better source of entertainment.

He was standing outside of a themed café when he spot a familiar person dressed in a maid costume. He wasn't one to drink coffee, but why not try?

He walked in and sat at a random table, waiting to get served. Luckily for him, you got assigned his table.

When you saw him, your cheeks immediately reddened. Not only because of your attire and current situation, but also because he was not supposed to be there, and specially not when you were so close to finish the mission.

"My, my. What do we have here?" he said once you reached his table. You ignored him and handed him the menu. "Welcome to our humble café, master. How can I serve you today?"

Childe was screaming inside

"Master? I like that. I think I would like-" he started saying, quickly going through the menu. "A regular coffee and a wolfhood juice"

You eyed him questioningly. "That's a strange combination, master" "What can I say? I'm a man with many dualities" he said, smirking and making an emphasis on "many"

He knew you well, after all, you were his hardest challenge within the fatui harbingers. He once fought with you, and not even 10 minutes later you already had your foot pressing on his head against the floor.

He would be a fool to not admit that he has always been slightly interested in you. Not because of your fight style, or your agility to control your vision. But also because you didn't bow down to anyone that wasn't the Tsarista. He often thinks you would rather die than lower yourself like that

That's why he was enjoying this a little too much. Oh how he adored this unusual look of you roleplaying as a maid while you serve him coffee. Not to mention the use of the word "master".

He's definitely going to use this against you someday

Signora

Normally, lower rank fatuis would be assigned to locate the harbingers and deliver messages, but you were in an undercover mission.

To put it simple, those silly fatuis could not find you. That's why Signora was currently sitting on a dirty wooden bench facing a big stage. If someone could locate you, it was her. And she was 98% sure that you would appear in that stage at any moment.

"They should have picked a better place to perform." she thought, as she made a disgusted face at how dirty the bench was.

She was a bit curious though. Despite being a very respected fatui harbinger, you were also a very shy person. You didn't talk much in meetings, and if you did, your voice was small. You also stumble on your words while talking to people, and prefer smaller crowds.

Harbingers like Scaramouche often questioned why you were a harbinger at all.

But Signora knew better. She knew how powerful you were, and how confident you get in no time when the situation goes the way you planned. And if the situation goes the other way round, you're always quick enough to handle it smoothly. There was no doubt in her soul about the fact that you were perfect for the job.

But still

You were a very shy person who always ran away from crowded places. So why were you about to perform at such place? With a big audience?

Her questions were soon answered, when a tall man with a black moustache and a large hat appeared on stage. Lights were on him, as he exclaimed "Welcome everyone! It is my pleasure to present an acrobatic show you will never forget!"

The red courtain behind him opened, and there you stood in a yellow tight outfit and a big smile on your face. If Signora didn't know better, she would have believed you were the most innocent person in the world.

Once the man finished his speech and left the stage, the other acrobats started doing their performances. But Signora's eyes were on you, only.

She didn't expect you to use your pyro vision, as you lit up an acrobat hula hoop that was safely attached to a platform. And to make it more shocking, she did not expect you to smile at the audience before you made a cartwheel, landed on a trampoline, and jumped through the hula hoop.

You landed safely on the other side of it, and gave the audience a triumphant smile while you lifted up your arms.

That was the moment when you noticed Signora.

Signora rarely showed emotions, even less positive ones. But she just could not help the small smile that appeared on her face when her eyes met yours. She was shocked, amazed, starstruck

Your mission was nowhere near over, but as Signora smiled and clapped while you bowed down to express gratitude, you felt satisfied.

[yellowsuitcase]

Let me help you // Draco Malfoy

Request: heyy, I wanted to make a request bc I love your writting sm!!! I was wondering if u would like to do an imagine where the reader is on the Gryffindor quidditch team and after a match she is tired and Draco helps her shower or sth like that? maybe smut if you feel like? idk u are the writer and if u can could u include prompts 33 and 98? omg im sorry if this is too long honestly just do whatever feels confortable to u i just had that idea, thanks keep up the good work.

A/N: I started writing this soon after I received this request because omg the amount of smut I’ve been writing has been k i l l i n g me and I knew I could turn this into something super fluffy, so I did. It may not be my best, my wrist has been hurting a lot and my fingers do be swollen. But I hope you enjoy!

Summary: After an intense quidditch game, Y/N is really sore and Draco helps her wash up.

Warning(s): None... it’s super super fluffy :)

Word Count: 3.1k

Prompts: 33 & 98

Y/N stumbled into the quidditch changing room and sat onto the nearest bench. She was utterly exhausted from the match. Her team, Gryffindor, had versed Ravenclaw, and even though they had won, it was not an easy fight. Y/N was a beater; thus, she often threw herself in front of the bludgers to wack them with her bat. In this particular game, they had been tied with Ravenclaw at 70 - 70. 

{During the game}

Y/N was scanning the field for bludgers when she noticed Harry had spotted the snitch and was chasing after it. Her heart leaped with joy until she saw it, a bludger heading straight for him. She zoomed towards him without hesitating and raised her bat to hit it away, but then the worst happened. Y/N dropped her bat. The Ravenclaw seeker was hot on Harry’s tail, and if Y/N let the bludger hit him, she knew they’d lose the match, and it would be her fault. So, she grasped her broom and slowly placed her right foot on the wooden handle. Once it was stable, she let go of her broom entirely and lifted her left foot onto the broom. She was now riding it as if it were a surfboard. 

Her eyes narrowed in on the bludger. Just as it was moments away from crashing into Harry, Y/N leaped off her Comet 180 and landed on top of the hurling ball. She gripped the bludger tight and gritted her teeth as she was thrown around in the air. It was getting harder and harder to hold on, but then Y/N heard the cheers from the crowd; Harry had successfully caught the golden snitch. Gryffindor had won. She quickly looked around and found that the bludger was driving her towards the stands. Faced with only two options, Y/N held her breath and let go of the bludger. Screams and gasps erupted from the crowd as she fell. But no spell saved her, and she hit the ground with a thud. Her legs seemed to have taken the brunt of the fall, and her back was definitely affected, but luckily, the bludger had lowered her close to the earth, and when she fell, she only dropped about eight or nine feet. Still, her team promptly rushed over to her with worry in their eyes.

And now she was sitting on an old wooden bench, trying to gather the strength to lift her arms and begin pulling off her boots. Her teammates were already long gone since Madam Hooch had held Y/N back after the game to assess her. By the time the silver-haired woman had determined she was alright, her friends had already headed to the showers. Y/N sighed softly, slowly bent over, and began untying her boots. All while doing her best to ignore the pain. The knot was loose when she heard loud footsteps drawing near. Y/N quickly snatched her wand from her locker, just to be safe, and turned towards the tent entrance. A few moments later, Draco, her boyfriend, came bursting inside. He was terribly out of breath and stopped to put his hands on his knees and regain steady breathing. As his chest heaved, he picked his head up to scan the room, spotting Y/N instantly. A look of relief washed over his face when he saw her, and he straightened his back. “Thank Merlin, you’re still here,” he mumbled while taking long strides towards her. 

“I’m fine, Draco, seriously. You didn’t have to run all the way back here,” she scolded her boyfriend gently, trying to convince him and herself that she was perfectly fine. But the Slytherin paid her no mind. Instead, he kissed her head, knelt down in front of her, and began untying her quidditch shoes. “I can do it myself!” she insisted. Draco raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? Alright then, do it,” he retorted while rising from the floor. Y/N gulped. She hadn’t expected Draco to believe her. But, she wasn’t one to admit weakness so easily. She took a deep breath and once again bent herself over and took her thick laces into her hands. Pain spread through her back, but Y/N was determined to prove Draco wrong. She started to untie and watched as the opening of her boot grew wider. Soon enough, she finished and tilted her head upwards to smirk at Draco. But he didn’t seem bothered. 

“Go on then, take it off,” he prompted. Y/N stifled her frown and redirected her attention to her boot. She first tried to lift her leg up to place her calve atop her opposite knee, but once she engaged her thigh muscles, pain washed over her, and she quickly relaxed her leg. 

Next, she attempted to straighten out her leg and push the boot off, rather than pull. She gritted her teeth and slowly raised her foot off the floor, holding it in midair for about two seconds before her leg began to shake, and she dropped it back down. Draco huffed angrily and knelt once again. “Must you push your limits every single game, Y/N? You can’t even hold your foot an inch off the ground!” he reprimanded as he slid off her boot. “Oh, piss off, if I hadn’t made that jump, we would’ve lost the game, and you know it,” she snapped. Despite his obvious anger, Draco delicately slid Y/N’s other shoe off her foot and started unbuckling her knee pads. 

“Y/N, you got extremely lucky. If you had missed your jump, you probably would’ve died,” Draco reminded her with a scowl on his face. “You got lucky, Y/N. You probably would’ve died, Y/N,” the Gryffindor repeated in a mocking tone. Draco threw her knee pad to the floor and rose to his feet. “You’d better fix that attitude,” he spat while glaring at his girlfriend. “Don’t you understand? I almost had to watch you fall to your death. If you had simply lost your footing or couldn’t get a grip on the bludger, I would’ve had to watch you die.”

Suddenly, Y/N truly realized the risk she had taken. Draco was right; she could’ve really hurt herself when she decided to take that leap. She looked up at Draco and saw he was still quite angry. But behind the fury, Y/N could see the hurt in his eyes. A sigh escaped her, and she rubbed her hands down her face. “I’m sorry, Dray, you’re right. But I had to do something, if I didn’t then, we would've lost, and it would’ve been my fault. And what if Harry had gotten hurt? You know how people are; they’d be so angry with me for failing to protect precious Potter. I’ve already fucked up in the past, and I couldn’t—”

“Shh, shh. It’s alright darling, I know,” Draco hushed her as he sat beside Y/N and took her into his arms. “Look, I’m sorry for getting mad at you. You did something brave out on that pitch, and all I’ve done is berate you when I should’ve been congratulating you. But you’ve got to understand that you scared me, Y/N. You put your life in danger just to win a game.” Y/N turned to look at Draco, her eyebrows raised. “Technically, I always put myself in danger. It is quidditch, you know,” she said pointedly. Draco rolled his eyes and kissed her head. “You know what I mean,” he muttered. Silence fell over them for a few minutes as they leaned against one another. 

“Come on, love. Let’s get you to the showers,” Draco said while rising to his feet. Y/N took his outstretched hand and winced as he pulled up. She gathered her belongings and walked with Draco around the corner to the bathroom. Y/N walked through the door, not expecting her boyfriend to follow her inside. “What’re you doing?” she asked accusingly. “Following you to the showers,” he answered plainly. Y/N paused. “But why?” she questioned since his reply hadn’t given her any new information. “So I can help you,” he told her. Y/N scoffed and shook her head at him. “I don’t need help showering, Draco,” she stubbornly stated. 

“I think you do,” he replied.

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t need help,” she hissed.

Draco sighed. “Just let me help you, darling. Please?” he pleaded with her. Y/N glared at him. “No,” she spat. “Don’t you have homework to do? I thought you mentioned having that Transfiguration essay to write,” she said as she gripped the edge of her jersey. “You’re more important,” Draco told her firmly. Y/N blushed and began to pull her shirt off, but she stopped once it reached her head. Her sore back screamed in pain; she couldn’t raise her arms any further. Instead, she resorted to wiggling and flailing about, hoping it would somehow slide her shirt off. Her arms began to ache, and she was about to give up, but luckily, an external force named Draco gently pulled it off. 

Her boyfriend chuckled at her with a smug look on his face. “Now may I help you?” he asked, eyebrow cocked. Y/N grumbled to herself but placed her hands on Draco’s shoulders. He pressed a quick kiss to her head and stuck his thumbs through her belt loops. Slowly, he pulled her pants down and knelt on the floor to help her step out of them. Then, he did the same for her underwear. Y/N was able to get her bra off by herself since it didn’t require raising her arms. And once she did, she realized she was stark naked. A blush heated her cheeks, and she quickly covered herself, feeling self-conscious.

Draco laughed and shook his head at her. “Darling, I’ve seen you naked before. Why so shy?” he asked. Y/N nibbled on her lip and hesitantly lowered her hands. “It’s just... different like this,” she said quietly as she tried to push away her embarrassment. Y/N wasn’t naked to have sex with Draco; she was naked, so he could help bathe her. And somehow, that was more intimate than sex. 

Y/N and turned towards the stall, ready to walk into it, but then she second-guessed herself. She glanced at the shower then back to Draco, not sure if she should wait for him. It seemed as though her lover had sensed her hesitation. “Start the water; I’m right behind you,” he assured her. So Y/N turned the knob and quickly stepped out of the way to avoid getting blasted with cold water. Her eyes returned to Draco as she waited for the shower to heat up. She looked him up and down as he yanked off his shirt and hung it up on top of hers. His now exposed pale chest and torso looked tempting, but Y/N kept her hands at her sides. She stuck her hand out to check the water temperature. It was warm enough, so she stepped under it, letting her eyes flutter shut.

Draco soon finished undressing and moved into the stall, pulling the curtain closed behind them. Y/N was wetting her hair when she felt a sharp pinch on her stomach. “Hey!” she yelped, opening her eyes to see Draco smirking at her. He quickly pressed a kiss to her forehead and rubbed where he pinched. “I saw you staring. You’re not very sneaky, are you, love?” he teased. Y/N swatted his shoulder and turned around to face the water spouting from the showerhead. On instinct, she reached up to rustle her hair but was soon halted by the return of searing pain in her back. Draco noticed this and gently put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing softly. “Just relax darling, I’ll do everything for you,” he said sweetly. Y/N huffed, still holding onto her pride. But then Draco’s hands landed on her head and began massaging shampoo into her hair, and an involuntary sigh of pleasure escaped her. She couldn’t remember the last time someone washed her hair for her; it felt incredible.

After Draco shampooed her hair, he switched places with Y/N. His back was now facing the water. He rinsed her hair until all the soap was down the drain. “You doing okay, love?” he asked, checking in on his girlfriend. Y/N nodded, too relaxed to speak. He switched places with her again and gathered some conditioner in his hands. “Y/N,” he called. She hummed in reply. “I think you should see Madam Pomfrey,” he told her quietly. A soft whine fell from Y/B's lips. “I know you’re only sore, but she probably has something to ease the pain.”

Y/N adamantly shook her head. “I’m fine, Draco. I don’t need to see her,” she argued. Her boyfriend sighed as he worked the product into her hair. “You’re probably right,” he muttered sadly. Y/N instantly filled with regret upon hearing the defeated tone in his voice. She really didn’t want to make a stop at the Hospital Wing, but she knew it would put Draco at ease. Reluctantly, she sighed and said, “We can stop by before bed.” A soft kiss was then planted on her back. “Thank you, darling.”

As Y/N waited for the conditioner to seep in, she turned around to face Draco, making sure her hair wasn’t under the stream. She kissed him sweetly and pulled him into a gentle hug. The Slytherin wrapped his arms around her and slowly began rubbing her tender back. Y/N groaned and let her head fall onto his chest. “My poor girl,” Draco muttered. “How bad does it hurt, love?” he asked. Y/N closed her eyes and pressed herself closer to him. “When I lift my arms, it feels as though it’s been lit on fire,” she confessed. Draco hissed and dug his thumbs into her back, trying to give her a deeper massage. “Same for your legs then?” Y/N nodded. “I think I really strained them when I took that jump.” Her boyfriend sighed and gently pushed her back under the water. 

Y/N once again instinctively reached for her head and felt pain wash over her. She felt tears of frustration well up in her eyes, and she let out a soft cry. “I know, darling, I know,” Draco consoled. “It’s been a long day, let’s rinse your hair, wash you up, and we can go. Alright?” he asked. Y/N nodded as her tears began to fall. Her lover pressed yet another kiss to her temple and grabbed a nearby rag, squirting soap onto it. He squeezed out the excess water and gingerly pressed it against her skin, where he began rubbing. He first cleaned her arms, then began scrubbing her chest. When he reached her breasts, he very carefully dragged the cloth over them, making sure they got enough soap. 

Y/N wiped her tears as Draco continued to clean her body. She looked down at him as he rubbed her legs. Suddenly, she noticed the fact she hadn’t shaved and was covered in hair. She was immensely uncomfortable with her boyfriend seeing this, so she attempted to pull her leg away from him. Draco promptly looked up at her. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” he questioned, a worried expression on his face. Y/N shook her head but said nothing. “Then why’d you pull away?” She averted her eyes and breathed in deeply before saying, “I didn’t shave.”

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed together, and he looked back at her legs. “Y/N, do you actually think I care that you’ve got hair on your legs? That’s perfectly normal, darling,” he told her as he pushed himself up from the floor. His eyes found hers, and Y/N felt her stomach churn. “I would never shame you or love you less simply because you have body hair. I don’t care if other people, or even you, think it's unbecoming. It’s a part of you, and I love all of you. Understand?” he asked, his tone firm. Y/N nodded, and Draco kissed her nose, making her giggle. “Good. Now, let’s get you all rinsed off, and we can head out of here, yeah?” 

Y/N stepped fully underneath the water and let all the soap on her body wash away. Draco reached for her shoulders and turned her around so he could squeeze out her hair. He did this a few times before deeming it free of conditioner. Y/N then turned off the water and soon found herself wrapped in a big fluffy towel. “Oh!” she yelped in surprise as Draco twirled her around to face him. He smirked and began to rub her arms up and down in an attempt to get her body warm. 

“Stay there,” he instructed her. “I’m going to find some extra towels,” he said. Y/N nodded and watched as her lover ran butt naked to the other side of the bathroom. She giggled and giggled until he returned to their stall and hastily threw a smaller towel onto her head. “Shut up,” he muttered. Y/N stifled her laughs as she pulled the towel off her face. Draco shook his head at her and tied his own towel around his waist. “Give me that,” he said, gesturing to the cloth in her hands. Y/N handed it to him. He placed it on her head and aggressively rubbed it against her. “What’re you doing?” she yelled from underneath the towel. “Drying your hair,” he replied. “That’s not how you do it, you git,” Y/N laughed. 

“Well, this is how my mum used to do it when I was little,” Draco argued as his girlfriend continued to giggle. Soon, however, he removed the towel to find a messy-haired Y/N. “Cutie,” he whispered. “No, you,” Y/N retorted. Draco narrowed his eyes. “No, you’re definitely the cutie here.”

“I beg to differ, I am not.”

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

“Are too.”

“Draco!” Y/N whined. Her lover chuckled and quickly pulled her into his arms, squeezing her tight. “You’re the cutest, sweetest, most adorable person ever. Alright?” Draco asked. Y/N sighed and nodded her head. “Fine, I’m the cutest,” she agreed. Draco smirked and planted a kiss on her lips. “That you are my love. That you are.” A momentary silence fell over the pair as they held each other close. But then Y/N lifted her head and gazed into Draco’s grey eyes. He stared right back with unwavering adoration. “Thank you for helping me; I’m sorry for giving you a hard time,” she apologized. Her boyfriend smiled softly. “That’s alright. I’ll always give you help, even if you don’t think you need it,” he replied. Y/N nestled her head against his still wet chest and sighed happily. “I love you,” she whispered. Draco hummed and began swaying her left and right. “I love you too.”

Taglist: @beiahadid @pastelpuffbar @cutie1365 @dracoxmgg @lumlfy @sambucky8 @emilianamason @raplinethereal @dixiethemorab24 @xoxohollands @prongsandprancer @ch0kemedracomalfoy

[sugakuns]

[os] no holding back | k.kozume

summary: you just want some love from your boyfriend after a long, terrible day

“You’re awful handsy today” It was an off comment from kuroo which completely sent you flying out of the safe bubble you created for yourself. You didn’t even realise that you had slotted your arm with Kenma’s, head resting on his shoulder as he aggressively pressed the buttons of his Nintendo DS.

“Oh, have I?” Your dejected tone breaks whatever concentration Kenma had on his game as his fingers suddenly froze up, his character dying instantly in the intense battle he was participating in.

You’re suddenly aware of the loud bustling schoolyard of Nekoma. Young first years run by as they laugh together, some second years are hanging around the vending machines and the occasional third year wandering around to find their friends. A sigh escapes your lips as you straighten up on the bench, air tousling with your hair. Kuroo is laying on the grass in front of you, leaning back on his left arm as he eats a sandwich he got from a convenience story before school (which had made you late since the duo picked you up on the way to school).

Kuroo laughs as Kenma’s game announces his failure, a irritated look on his face as a large font appears on the screen to rub it in his face. A frown almost crosses your lips as you think about how much you’ve touched Kenma today, especially in school where he is even more reserved.

I hope he isn’t annoyed at me..

“Come on slow poke!” Kuroo shouts from the doorway of your classroom. A large flush covers your face as you lean down to grab your school bag, using your hair to cover your face as you walk past a few of your classmates.

You smile awkwardly as your friends wave you off, giggling as they push you away. Being with your friends had livened your mood but now that the day was over it was falling again.

Kuroo immediately ruffles a hand through your hair, laughing as you swat him away with an annoyed grumble. They had practice today, so you were surprised that they even waited on you.

“Don’t you have practice?” You speak through a pout you didn’t even notice you had. Kuroo hums, blabbing about something that you zoned out. Your hand is itching to hold Kenma’s. It looks so oddly lonely as it swings by his side.

“Kuroo, I’m gonna talk to (y/n), I’ll meet you on the gym in a few minutes” Kenma shoos off Kuroo who walks away cluelessly. You gasp as you feel the coolness of Kenma’s hand wrapping around your own as his drags you away and through the bustling crowds of the students.

“Kenma..” you mumble as he continues to walk out of the schools gates.

A sigh escapes your lips once you realise he isn’t going to practice and instead is walking you to his home.

His mother and father were absent, leaving the expanse of his apartment for your own discovering. Kenma trudges to his room, barely giving you time to slip into the house slippers his mum gifted you.

“Tell me what’s wrong” Kenma sighs as he pulls you towards his bed and using his strength to sit you down on the bed. You stare up at him with a pout, watching as he shrugs off his red Nekoma volleyball team jacket.

“Nothing..” You dismiss his worries and pull out your phone from your blazer pocket to text your parents that you were at Kenma’s and would be home late.

Silence erupts in his room as he shuffles around to make himself comfy, ignoring the insistent buzzing of his phone which was most likely the cause of Kuroo. It takes a few moments, but he finally plops down on his bed next to you.

“Did you just have a bad day?” Kenma asks softly as his eyes shift over to your slouched frame. Your hair falls over your face in strands, his eyes zoning into your pouty lips. The sound of your hands fiddling with each other is so loud in the silence after his question fills you with anxiety.

With a stiff nod you confirm Kenma’s suspicions as he gently places a hand on your shoulder and nudges you back in the bed. You get the memo, even while still in your uniform you shrug off the blazer and shuffle under the white comforter.

“Are you sure..?” Kenma doesn’t answer your question as he pulls himself under the duvet and wraps a firm arm around your being. He nuzzles his head into the top of your hair as he relishes in the feeling of the soft strands tickling his cheek.

Your body is itching to pull him close and pepper a million kisses on his face and his actions aren’t helping.

“You know I won’t deny any affection, right?” He laughs as he sits up, pulling his Switch from under his pillow from where he had put it the night before.

Your heart beats loudly at the permission he unintentionally gave you. A large smile spreads over your face almost automatically, arms flinging out to wrap around him. Your mood doing a complete 180.

“I love you” You coo as you move onto your knees, arms wrapping around his frame as you press loving kisses to Kenma’s fluffy hair. Kenma laughs lightly as you continue to strangle him with love, his left hand coming up to grab your arm as he smiles lovingly.

“I love you too”

bonus

“(y/n), I’ll literally choke if you hold me any tighter” Kenma barely wheezes as you snuggle into tightly, a large dumb smile rested on your lips.

[sunlight-moonrise]

The Five Times (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reader recounts the first moments she shared with her new neighbor. 

A/N: I finally wrote a pure fluffy fic! This is a complete 180 from my previous fics. I hope I did the genre justice. As always, thank you to the lovely @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​ for being an awesome beta! Enjoy.

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: None

Word Count: 4.2K

Masterlist

The first time I met my neighbor, I was moving into my new apartment. The movers from the company I hired were kind enough to bring up my heavier furniture, but I was stuck with the boxes holding my miscellaneous objects.

This was my fifth trip up to my apartment and I still had at least ten boxes lying around in the lobby. My body was starting to get tired from all of the excessive movement. 

I heard the familiar ding of the elevator, signaling its arrival. With my current pace, I wouldn’t be able to get in before it closed.

“Hold the elevator!” I quickened my stride, hoping whoever on the other side of the door would be kind enough to adhere to my plea. Luckily that was the case, as I saw a hand shoot out to keep the doors from closing.

Once I made my way inside, I placed the boxes down, allowing my arms a few seconds of rest. I turned to my companion, noticing his tall figure, kind eyes, and small smile.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, what floor?” His voice was soft and sweet. He smelled like cinnamon and coffee. The words that immediately came to mind when I took all of him in were cozy and home.

“Second floor, thanks.” Just then, I noticed that the button was already lit up, signaling that it has already been pressed. “Oh, I guess we’re floor mates,” I commented with a light laugh.

“I guess we are.” There was a momentary silence as the elevator rose up the two floors. I saw him observe the boxes scattered on my feet. “I’m assuming the other packages downstairs are yours,” he stated.

“You got that right.” The doors opened with a ding as I tried to quickly pick up and balance the items in my arms once again. Before I could say something, the kind stranger grabbed one of my boxes and held it in his hands.

“You don’t have to,” I started to protest, “I don’t want to be wasting your time.”

“It’s fine. Helping people is what I do.”

I wanted to complain, to put up more of a fight but my body was already starting to feel weak. It’s been hours since I’ve rested and the heat was not helping my current situation.

With that in mind, I begrudgingly accepted his help. “Okay, but I owe you one.” I led us down the hallway, taking a turn until we were in front of door #24.

“Wow,” I heard him whisper to himself. I was confused as to why he made that comment. Did I do something weird? Is there something embarrassing on my pants?

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just that I live across from you. I’ve never had a neighbor my age before.” He pointed to the door that was behind us, a small smile adorning his face. I couldn’t help but reciprocate with a grin of my own.

“Wow indeed. I promise you I won’t have loud music or multiple visitors.” I open the door, pushing it wide enough for my neighbor to easily go through. I gestured for him to place the box on the floor while I put mine on top of the kitchen’s table.

“Do you want help with the rest of your stuff?” he asked, taking note of the disarray in the small space.

“Yes, I’d appreciate that.”

We finished bringing the rest of my stuff back to my apartment in record time. What would have taken me five trips was cut down to two. I thanked him profusely throughout the whole ordeal and he laughed every time I did so. Once we had all the boxes inside, I made sure to see him out the door, thanking him a final time for his help.

“It’s not a problem, really,” he said, his voice getting slightly higher in pitch. “Uh, my name is Dr. Spencer Reid by the way. Y-you can call me Spencer. It’s less of a mouthful. Or Reid, whichever you prefer. I answer to all three.”

He had the shy smile on his face once more and I couldn’t help but repeat his name in my head. Dr. Spencer Reid. “Pleasure to meet you Dr. Reid. I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

It was at that moment that I associated Spencer with kindness.

●●●

The second time I saw Dr. Reid, I was jogging at the park. It has been two months since I last spoke to him and I felt a twinge of sadness at our lack of interactions. I figured since I was the first neighbor he had his age, that we would be seeing each other more often. Guess that was wishful thinking on my part. I shouldn’t be too upset, he’s a doctor after all; his hours must be crazy.

I was slowing down on my run, searching for a nearby fountain to fill up my bottle. Instead, I found Dr. Reid sitting on a bench, skimming through a thick book. The happiness that filled my body should be embarrassing, I only talked to the guy once. Nevertheless, I made my way too him.

“Dr. Reid!” He startled a bit, almost dropping his book. He looked up, a smile gracing his face when he recognized it was me.

“Hi (Y/N). How are you?”

“I’m pretty good, long time no see,” I stated, hoping he’ll hear the humor in my tone. He gazed at me and for a moment I felt self-conscious. I’m a sweaty mess right now. Loose strands of my hair were sticking to my forehead and my face was red.

“You-uh-went for a run?” he stammered out. A slight pink tint crept on to his cheeks, which I am pretty sure was due to the sun’s rays.

“Yeah, I try to get some exercise here and there when I can. How’s everything going at the hospital by the way?” Maybe if I find out what his schedule is like, I’ll be able to see him more.

“Pardon me?” Crap, did I say something wrong? I tried to recollect the small amount of information I gathered from him when we first met. I don’t recall him mentioning where he works. Maybe he has his own clinic.

“Sorry. Do you have a private practice?” I hated how nervous my voice sounded as I asked him. Spencer’s look of confusion quickly morphed into one of mirth. He let out a small laugh and I became more perplexed by his actions.

“I’m not that kind of doctor,” he clarified. “I hold PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering as well as BAs in Philosophy, Sociology, and Psychology.” His voice lowered a bit at the end and he started looking elsewhere once he finished his statement. Was he ashamed of his accomplishments? I hope not. If I were him, I’d be bragging to anyone within listening distance of my achievements.

“That’s very impressive, I barely know what’s going on in my own profession. You must be some kind of genius,” I remarked with awe. His head snapped back at me, probably trying to figure out if I was pulling his leg.

“Well, I do have an IQ of 187 as well as an eidetic memory. I can also read 20,000 words per minute,” he stated, his voice returning to its usual octave. I glanced at the book on his lap, he probably was reading the text instead of skimming through it like I initially thought. 

“So if you’re not a medical doctor, what do you do? If you don’t mind me asking,” I wondered. 

“I work for the FBI, with the BAU. Behavioral Analysis Unit. We catch serial killers, terrorists, rapists, and other criminals by analyzing their personalities.” I would have never guessed this man was a federal agent.  

“Wow, so you’re a professional hero then.”

He laughed once more before shaking his head, “I’m far from a hero. I just use my skills to my advantage. It’s all in a day’s work.”

I can now add humility to my mental list when describing Spencer Reid. With every moment I spend with him, my infatuation seems to grow.

I was going to continue talking when an insistent cough came out from the man to our left. He sat in front of the chess table, staring at us expectantly. His eyes kept on dashing between Spencer and myself. I scowled at him, wondering what his problem was.

“Uh this is my friend Eric,” Spencer said to me, gesturing to the coughing man. “Eric, this is (Y/N), my neighbor.” Great, now I feel like a jerk for thinking of his friend in such a rude manner.

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

“Likewise.” His eyes returned to Spencer, gawking at him as if he had a secret. However, Spencer’s attention was on his phone and I saw his features change to a stoic expression.

“I have to go; it's work,” he said to the both of us. He gathered his items and stood up from the bench. He turned to me, “Hopefully I can see you by the apartment more often.”

“Hopefully,” I agreed, “See you soon, neighbor.” I flashed him a smile and waved goodbye. He returned the gestures as he walked away.

At that moment I associated Spencer with bravery.

●●●

The third time I saw Spencer Reid, I baked too many cookies. It’s been two weeks since I last saw him, but I knew he was working hard. I heard him come in pretty late last night when I was finishing some chores and decided to come up with a reason to see him. Hence the cookies.

I tried to make sure I appeared decent this time around. So far, the only times he has seen me, I’ve been sweaty and tired. After applying a small amount of makeup and putting on my favorite sundress, I was ready to go.

I made my way across the hallway, balancing the plate with one hand while knocking on his door with my other. I didn’t need to wait that long before the door opened. Only the person I was expecting was not behind it. My smile immediately left my face.

“Hi, can I help you?” asked the beautiful petite blonde woman. Oh god, this is probably his girlfriend. And I am over here pinning over him like a pathetic little girl. If the ground could have swallowed me up, that would’ve been a blessing.

“I made these for Spe- uh Dr. Reid. As a thank you for helping me move,” I quickly stated, hoping she doesn’t hear the dejection in my voice. “Can you please give these to him?” I stared down at my shoes as I pushed the plate towards her hands, cursing my own for being a bit shaky.

“(Y/N)?” I heard a lowly voice whisper. I turned back towards the door and saw Spencer standing behind his girlfriend. He whispered something in her ear before motioning for her to go inside. She glanced at me quickly before doing as he requested. Great, so they both know about my little crush and now he has to come let me down gently.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, although I am sure he had an inkling with the way he was eyeing the plate still in my hand.

“I baked some cookies. Chocolate chip.” I cleared my throat, hating the way it clogged up so fast. “As a thank you for helping me. Had I known your girlfriend was over, I would have given you some more.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s my colleague,” he corrected, that shy smile that I grew to love on his face once again.

“Oh.” A sigh of relief left my body only for it to stiffen once more. Sure she’s not his girlfriend but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have one.

I debated whether I should ask him if he's single or not, but figured that would be pushing boundaries. I shouldn’t be asking someone such intimate details about their personal life, especially on the third encounter. But then again, it’ll be nice to know his relationship status before I dig myself too deep in this hole. However, he deserves to tell me that kind of information without me pestering him. Although he migh---

My thought process was interrupted when I saw a hand, Spencer’s hand, waving in front of my face. He had an expression of confusion yet amusement on his face. He was the only person I know who was able to pull off the look.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” He asked with slight concern in his voice. Or at least I’d like to imagine that there was slight concern. I’d like to think he cared over my well-being. I shook myself out of my stupor, returning my attention back to him.

“I’m sorry, I was distracted. What was it that you were saying?” I noticed I was still holding the plate so I quickly placed them in his waiting hands. Gosh, how many times am I going to embarrass myself in front of this man? 

“I said that it’s a good thing that I don’t have a girlfriend. I wouldn’t want to share these with her.” Spencer’s voice had that timid tone once again, the one that reminded me of when he was talking about his accomplishments. I saw the redness on his cheeks which I’m sure matched my own.

“You never know Dr. Reid, these may be the worst cookies you’ve ever had,” I teased. I couldn’t hide my current contentment no matter how hard I tried. The more I talked to him, the more I wanted to spend time with him.

“I highly doubt that. If they’re as sweet as you I’m sure I’ll enjoy them.” I felt butterflies in my stomach at his statement. I’m pretty sure my face got even redder because all I felt was heat enveloping my form.

“Well, my door is always open if you want more,” I responded. And to think that I wanted to drop dead on the floor a few minutes ago.

“I’ll be sure to take you up on the offer,” he smiled, this one bigger than the others I have seen so far. My heartbeat picked up a little and I prayed that he didn’t know the effect he had on me.

I needed to go back to my sanctuary. I can only handle so much before I internally implode and that’ll do neither of us any good.

“See you around Dr. Reid.” I started a slow retreat to my door. Once I made it inside, I turned to see he was still staring at me.

“See you (Y/N).” He waved to me before closing the door.

 At that moment I associated Spencer with warmth.

●●●

The fourth time I saw Reid, I wasn’t prepared. The day was going on pretty normally. I did my daily routine and made a trip to the grocery store. Thankfully, it wasn’t packed so I was able to go in and out within minutes.

I was placing my purchased items in my car when I heard a noise behind me. I couldn’t figure out what it was. I’d typically ignore it, but my mind was screaming at me that something was off. 

When I turned around, I saw a man with a bloody knife in his hand staring at me a few feet away. He seemed as if he came straight out of a horror film, the crazed look on his face made me very uneasy. I thought that this had to be someone’s idea of a sick joke. 

He slowly made his way towards me, knife up ready to strike. I didn’t bother closing my trunk before I jumped into my car, thanking the angels above that I left it on and running. I turned my key in the ignition, preparing to drive off when all of a sudden this man was at the driver’s window. 

He was pounding hard against the glass repeatedly, leaving bloody prints in his wake. I screamed as I saw cracks forming, knowing it was a matter of time before he would hurt me. Pure adrenaline kicked in as I stomped on the gas pedal. I zipped by him, feeling a bump as I most likely ran over his foot.

I kept driving, not stopping until I thought I was in a safe area, which happened to be a relatively deserted dead end. I called 911 and told them about the situation. How they understood me through my hysteria is beyond me but I was informed that help was on the way.

I watched around my surroundings, noting the few people that did walk by. They stared at my car with concern but I didn’t care. I was hyper-vigilant now, holding my keys as if they can offer me a smudge of protection. All I could hear was the sound of his footsteps, the sight of the bloody knife occupying my mind.

Even when the cop cars and black vans pulled up, I did not feel safe. I stayed inside, not daring to come out. Despite seeing a middle-aged cop approach my passenger door, I still jumped when she tapped on the window. It reminded me of the pounding I heard barely fifteen minutes ago.

Tears streamed down my face as I felt myself hyperventilate. Oh my gosh. oh my gosh, oh my gosh. I could have died just now. I could have been dead. It would have taken a few seconds for him to plunge the knife into me, taking away my life. My body would have probably been cold before anyone would have notified the authorities.

The driver’s door opened and I held my keys closer to my chest. I know that it was irrational of me to get defensive over the people that I called for help but I couldn’t help it. My body was still on fight or flight mode and there was nowhere else for me to run to.

“(Y/N). It’s me, Spencer.” What? Is my mind playing tricks on me? Bringing forth the person that could offer me the best comfort at this moment. But as I turned my head, I took in the sight of him. Spencer was here, he was actually here.

“Sp-Spe-Spencer,” I cried out, tears still trailing down my face.

“Yes, I’m here. Can you grab my hand? Can I take you out of there?”

All of sudden, I wanted out of this car. I quickly jumped into his arms, holding him as close to me as possible. The scent of coffee and cinnamon helped to relax me.

I felt his arms wrapped around me, his hands running soft circles against my back. “Shhhhh. It’s okay. You did so well. I’m so proud of you.”

Proud? Of me? I didn’t do anything remarkable. I panicked and ran. 

“Do me a favor. Breathe with me. Follow the way that I breathe,” he stated, his voice offering me serenity and calmness. He could have asked me to jump over a bridge or deep dive into the Atlantic Ocean and I would have done it at the moment.

I obeyed his instructions; inhaling and exhaling the same way he was. I followed the movement of his chest, captivated by the soothing rhythm. The adrenaline slowly started to leave my body. The blood rushing in my ears gradually decreased in volume and my breathing began to lengthen once again.

“Reid, the ambulance is here. They can examine her.” I heard a deep baritone voice say. I didn’t want to go, I didn’t want Spencer to leave me. I tightened my hands around him and buried my face even deeper into his chest, enveloping myself in his scent even more.

“It’s okay Hotch, I’ll take care of it,” I heard Spencer say. The vibration of his chest as he spoke brought warmth to me once again. I wish we could be in this position under different circumstances.

“The paramedics need to check you,” he whispered to me. “But I’ll be right next to you the whole time. I’m not going to let you go.” I peeked over at the ambulance, feeling my heartbeat picking up once more. I didn’t want to go, but I had to have faith in Spencer. I gazed up at him, needing affirmation of his previous statement.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He offered me that small smile of his. The one that is full of comfort and tenderness.

I believed him. I trusted Spencer more than I feared the unknown. 

He kept his word. Spencer stayed by my side the whole time I was with the paramedics, the car ride back to the precinct, and the duration of the questioning I received from some of his teammates. He even drove me back home and walked me to my door, promising to check on me in the morning.

At that moment I associated Spencer with safety.

●●●

The fifth time I saw Spencer, I was making dinner. It’s been a couple of days since I last saw him and my life was slowly returning to normal. I still flinched when I heard loud noises and I strayed from using my bigger knives. However, the nightmares have decreased and the therapist I’m seeing is very helpful. I hope I can go back to being the person I was before this incident.

I heard a gentle knock on my door. I made sure to calm myself down before answering. Unexpected loud noises still frighten me but I am slowly moving past it. I made my way to the entrance, checking the peephole before answering.

I unlocked the door, welcoming the sight of Spencer on the other side. It amazes me how fast my lips tug upwards just from looking at him.

“Hi (Y/N).” He gave me a small wave and an even smaller smile. “We caught him. He won’t be able to hurt you or anyone ever again,” he promises.

Something tells me that he didn’t have to come over here to personally deliver this message. Sure, we’re neighbors, but he didn’t have to go out of his way to tell me information that can be delivered with a phone call or a text.

“Thank you. I really appreciate you telling me this.” I took in his form. He appeared tired, more so than usual. I guess he just got out of work, especially since he still had his satchel on him. He didn’t even go back to his place before coming to mine.

The small pause lingered between us. Spencer looked like he was debating on what to say next. “Well, enjoy the rest of your evening.” He started taking small steps towards his door.

“Wait,” I shouted. The word came out louder than anticipated in the quiet hall. He startled a little but stopped walking to focus his attention on me.  

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” I asked, hopeful that he would accept my request. “I assure you there is plenty of food. Plus, it’ll be nice to be in your company again,” I finished. His head tilted as he stared at me, a bewildered expression on his face. I felt mine heating up as I realized the mistake I made.

“Uh I-I mean to have company. It’ll be n-nice to have company again,” I rushed out. I anxiously waited for his response as he contemplated my invitation. His hands were fiddling with one another and I saw a slight blush decorating his cheeks.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had a home-cooked meal,” he stated with a smile that I returned. I moved out the way, allowing him to enter my lovely abode.

“You can place your jacket and satchel on the coat rack. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.” I made my way back to the kitchen, checking on the food to make sure it hadn't burned. I then opened the fridge, grabbing my pitcher of water.

“I like the way you arranged your furniture. Your living room looks a lot more spacious than mine.” I heard Spencer commented. I poured the water into a glass before walking back to where he was standing. He was admiring the small stack of books I had on my shelf.

“Thank you, I tried to make the most of what I got. I’m glad it worked out.” I handed him the glass of water which he graciously took from me. I cursed myself for staring at the way he drank the cool liquid, his Adam’s apple bobbing with every swallow.

“Dinner is almost ready,” I stated, my pitch coming out higher than normal. I hoped my face was not as red as it felt.

“It smells amazing. Would you like me to set the table?” he asked.

I looked at Spencer again, noticing that he had a different smile on him. This one was wider and more genuine. I could see his white teeth peeking through. This smile gave me a sense of domesticity, affection, purity, and more. I am sure the grin on my face matched all the emotions I felt for him as we stood in front of one another in my living room.

At that moment I associated Spencer with love.

[kyber-crystal]

Be Careful

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~2.7k

Summary: You patch up an injured Captain after he comes back from a rather rough mission late at night.

Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, soft steve, cocky steve :)

A/N: this was one of my older oneshots...so it sucks

"Thor, it's 3 in the morning. Why are you trying to cook Pop-Tarts in the toaster at this ungodly hour?"

"My apologies, Lady Y/N. I did not mean to wake you," the Norse god gave you an innocent smile. "I heard toaster Pop-Tarts are quite delicious, so I decided to try my hand at making some myself."

"No no, it's fine," you waved him off, "I've been awake for a while, anyways. You can just carry on if you want, but try not to blow anything up, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am."

You'd been waiting for Steve to return from his solo mission, and currently, you, Thor, and Sam were the only ones awake in the compound. Not wanting to fall asleep without knowing if he was alright and returned in one piece, you were planning to stay up for as long as necessary. Fatigue was tugging at your eyes for a while now, but you couldn't care less. You'd handled worse things than sleep deprivation.

Just as the Pop-Tarts finished cooking and Thor took them to his room to eat as he watched Gossip Girl by himself on his MacBook, you decided to watch TV to fill the silence that had settled in around the lounge.

Around half an hour later you heard the elevator doors slide open, revealing an exhausted-looking Steve Rogers. His face was streaked with dust and debris, dried blood sticking to his dirty-blonde hair and a tired look in his icy-blue eyes, but you still thought he looked perfect regardless.

"Hey," you greeted him as he stepped forward, setting his duffel bag off to the side.

"I made it," he exhaled, "it was a bit of a pain trying to escape, but other than that, it ran pretty smoothly."

"That's good," you nodded. He inhaled deeply as he sat down at the edge of the couch.

It was only until you looked down and saw he was clutching his side that you realized he'd been severely injured.

"Shit shit shit shit, Rogers, what the hell happened," you muttered frantically as you tried to pull him into a more upright position to examine his wound. "Who hurt you?"

"HYDRA. And language," he croaked out, laughing lightly before being overcome by a coughing fit, wincing in pain. "Ow, that hurt. But I'm fine."

"No, you're not fine!" you whisper-shouted. Blood was seeping through his uniform and gushing out of his wound at an alarming pace. "You think you can stand and walk for a bit? I need to get you down to the lab to treat your wound. Bruce is asleep so I can't get him."

"Maybe?"

You let out a sigh of disbelief, slinging an arm across his shoulders and helping him down the hall to the lab, sitting him down in a chair you pulled up next to the examination table. You quickly grabbed all the necessary medical supplies and set them down next to him.

Steve took his hand off his stomach and you tried not to faint at the sight of it coming away covered in blood, making bile rise up in your throat.

"That bad, huh," he joked, but grimaced when he tried to move slightly.

"Stop moving!" you scolded as you came forward, "you're gonna make it worse if you do! I need to take the bullet out, so don't move."

"I'm fine," he reassured you.

"No, you're not. Now shut up and stay still."

"What's with the hesitation?"

"Um...you need to...remove your suit..." you spluttered.

A smirk came across Steve's face. "Sure."

"Not here!" you raised your voice. "You know what...just...take off the top...part..so I can get to your wound easily..."

"If you wanted a piece of this, you could've just asked," he grinned cheekily.

"Shut up!" you squeaked. "Just...take it off."

You sucked in a breath as he slid the top part of his suit off, revealing his toned shoulders and torso.

"I'm sorry for making you all flustered."

"Shut! Up!" you whisper-shouted as you began to treat his wound, flinching at the spark you felt running up your body when your skin came in contact with his during the process. "I'm not flustered!"

You almost cringed as he hissed in pain when the metal tweezers came in contact with his skin, trying to keep your fingers from shaking as you removed the bullet. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, this'll only take another minute..."

Letting out a breath of relief you didn't know you'd been holding inside, you dropped the bullet onto a tray off to your side and wiped your hands before grabbing the thick roll of bandages to wrap up his wound.

"There," you dusted off your hands, "it's over. I'm gonna clean up your face now, and then you're going to not overwork yourself by not sparring four hours a day for the next week."

"Y/N..."

"Listen to me, Steve. You aren't gonna get better if you keep overworking yourself, so you're gonna do as I say and rest."

"Aye aye, Captain," he mock saluted you.

"Now," you sighed, "if you aren't tired, I can go make us some coffee if you want."

"That sounds nice," the super-soldier agreed.

"Try standing up on your own now," you said, "if you can't I'll help you over there."

"Y/N, I'm fine," he reassured you as he gripped the edge of the table and stood up, "see? Stop worrying. I can handle myself perfectly well."

You sighed again. "Alright, fine. Let's go, then. Get changed first, then meet me in the lounge once you're done."

You headed to the kitchen and as he sat down at the couch, now changed into a soft white T-shirt and grey sweats, you plugged in the coffee maker and got out the pods from the pantry. Hopefully, Tony wouldn't mind you using a few of them.

God, you really needed to stop staring at him so much.

But it's not my fault he wears tight shirts all the time! another voice yelled back inside your head.

"You okay, Y/N? You look kinda pale," Steve commented as he looked back to see your now-pale face.

"Yes, what, huh?" you blinked several times, shaking your head and snapping out of your momentary daze. "Yeah, I'm okay. You want your coffee black, or with milk?"

"Black," he replied simply, rubbing his forehead and yawning, stretching his arms up in the air.

You poured the coffee into two separate mugs once they were ready, putting milk in one and handing one over to Steve before taking a seat next to him on the sofa. "Now, will you tell me how the hell you got hit? I should know that, at least."

"Caught in the crossfire," Steve replied simply. "Got unlucky, and took a hit, right as I was getting the data files downloaded."

"Sounds like a repeat of Montpellier," you raised an eyebrow at him in suspicion, "except that time, it was me."

"Trouble always seems to find us, huh," he hummed, taking a sip of his drink.

"When I was the one to get hit, I knew what I was getting myself into. I jumped in front of Peter to take a bullet meant for him. You, on the other hand, decided to just jump into the fight without looking at the possible outcomes."

"Wow, sounds like you actually care about the great Captain," he smirked. "Thought you had no heart."

"You're funny. I'm not completely heartless, you know. I care about people."

"Well, well, well, look what we have here," you heard someone clap slowly from behind you and when you turned around, there stood a rather smug-looking Pietro. "Heartless warrior and Cap finally getting some action. Nice."

"Since when were you awake? I thought you were sleeping," you were now confused.

"I was playing against Sam in Mario Kart this entire time. I think that's a solid enough reason to stay up," the speedster explained. "Steve, when'd you get back?"

"Fifteen minutes ago."

"You didn't die?"

"I'm here right now, so no."

"Oh, Y/N, when you were patching him up did you get to see his abs? He's totally ripped, you know, I hope you didn't get too carried away staring—"

"Pietro!" you snapped, cheeks going bright red, much to his amusement. "Really?"

"What? I'm curious!"

"I had no choice but to see!"

"You make it sound like you didn't enjoy it."

Steve chuckled as your cheeks grew an even deeper shade of scarlet. You groaned loudly, gulping down your coffee in just three more large gulps to save yourself from having to reply to his comment.

“Okay, Speedy, I’ve had it with your comments, now shoo,” you waved a hand at him. “Go to bed.”

“Need I remind you I’m no longer a teenager and I don’t have a bedtime,” he scoffed before walking away. “Also, ship it!”

You sighed and let your head fall into your hands. 

After several more minutes of the strained silence, Steve cleared his throat. “Thanks for fixing me up back there. I would’ve bled out if it weren’t for you.”

“That’s not reassuring at all,” you mumbled into your hands. 

He chuckled again. “I’m sorry. I’ll try not to get shot next time.”

You lifted your head to glance up at him. “You said that when Fury sent us on that mission to Montenegro and I had to drag you back to the jet because you got shot, twice. And I did it with a concussion, dislocated shoulder, and a severely sprained ankle. Wanda brought me breakfast in bed for four days after that.”

“You’re making me sound a lot heavier than I really am.”

“Yeah, you outweigh me by sixty pounds at least. Of course you’re gonna feel heavy to me.”

“I thought you could bench press 300? That’s over twice your weight.”

“That’s not an actual human being.”

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that someone like you who’s so light can lift so much.”

“I’m lightweight?”

“Compared to 300, or in my case, 180, then yes. But hey, most of that’s muscle,” he winked at you, rolling his sleeve up slightly and flexing his bicep. “So how’s the view, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes. “Showoff.”

“You love me.”

“That’s debatable.”

“Seriously, though...” Steve’s voice softened, as did his gaze on you, “thank you.”

“...For?”

“For staying up late to wait for me, even though you don’t like doing so. It’s nice to have someone to look forward to when I’m coming back home.”

“I never said I didn’t like staying up.”

“Y/N, I know you like the back of my hand,” the corners of his mouth turned up in a small grin, “I’m pretty sure I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Bet. What’s my favorite color?”

“That’s easy. It’s blue. But like you consistently remind everyone who asks, it’s not just plain blue. It’s the blue only found in the deepest corners of the ocean that are furthest from the shore. You had the highlights of your suit changed from grey to this shade, after Fury forced us on that vacation to Sicily and you refused to leave the beach because you’d fallen so in love with gazing at the horizon. When we returned, Clint kept teasing us because it looked like we were trying to coordinate our stealth suits with one another.”

You were shocked and taken aback, not expecting for him to memorize what you’d told him word for word. “Okay...what’s my biggest fear?”

“Failure. Failing to protect those you love, failing to succeed in your job as an Avenger,” he said softly, “Ever since Phil gave word of your parents’ passing four years ago, you grew extremely overprotective over what family you had left, which happened to be the team. You refused to let your mission partners out of your sight and if they did, forced them to stay on call at all times. You couldn’t afford to have whatever happened to your parents happen to your teammates, because bearing that burden would be too much for you to handle.”

You swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “Yeah...um. What was my job before joining the initiative, and what made me join the team in the first place?”

“A brilliant student, you graduated two years early to become a trauma surgeon for the next four years. At first, you were reluctant to accept Fury’s offer because you’d dedicated your life saving people instead of doing the opposite. Violence was the very last thing on your mind so the Battle of New York was rather difficult for you to cope with after it ended. Continuing to be able to save people in your new line of work and seeing thousands more look up to you was what pushed you to keep going; you didn’t want to let them all down.

He laughed to himself, recalling the memory. “I didn’t expect you to be so relentless on the battlefield. You never told any of us you were also training under SHIELD at the same time you were going through med school, so Nat and I were blown away when we saw you fight. I’m pretty sure Clint fainted when he saw you shoot out electricity bolts. Thor was insistent on seeing if you could lift Mjolnir afterwards.”

“I offered to be SHIELD’s lab rat because nobody else was willing to step up, so here I am,” you chuckled lightly, “those powers ended up coming in handy in the operating room sometimes...during emergency surgeries.”

“You’re amazing,” Steve exhaled. “I can see why so many people look up to you as a role model.”

You laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m not that special.”

“You are. You’ve impacted millions of lives, Y/N. The world owes you a debt.”

“You know me so well, Captain. I’m surprised you remember the little details...Tony sometimes forgets my birthday and here you are, listing off every little thing easily.”

“I’m just observant, that’s all...” he hummed, a ghost of a smile on his face. 

“If you answer this question right, then you’ve won it all,” you challenged. “What’s my opinion on finding love?”

“You always claim to be opposed to falling in love, but I know you better than that,” he explained. “You’ve only started showing the signs of being in love a few months ago, but your heart was stolen many years prior by one man.”

Was it just you, or did Steve look almost...hurt as he spoke?

“Who’s that one man?”

“You’re asking me?” he raised an eyebrow at you, shifting slightly into a more comfortable position that wouldn’t put too much pressure on his abdomen. “How would I know that?”

“Because you know me better than anyone else in the compound,” you stated. 

“Why don’t you describe him for me, then.”

“For starters, he’s extremely loyal. Always sticks by your side and will stay loyal to you until the very end of his days.”

“Sam?”

“No. I’m not finished,” you held up a finger to interrupt him. “He’s a great leader and the slightest bit cocky, but he’s got a great sense of humor and at the same time, he can be very serious. He always knows how to make you feel better even when you’re in the worst mood, and gives the best hugs known to man. My favorite color isn’t just because of the ocean, but his eyes...I think that’s what made me start loving blue in the first place.”

Your eyes widened and you immediately shut your mouth, realizing you’d gone off on a mini tangent. Steve didn’t look all that surprised, but rather amused. 

“You’re in love with me?” A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. 

“Don’t let it get to your head, Rogers,” you muttered.

“If you’re in love with me, then that’s good because I’m in love with you too.”

Now it was time to be taken aback a second time. “W-what?”

“You heard me right.”

“I think the medication I gave you is making you a bit too loopy.”

“I’m being honest. This is the real me talking here, Y/N.”

A red light going off in the corner of the ceiling made you both look up and groan. 

“Well done for finally fessing up, kiddies?" Tony’s smug voice came over the intercom. “When’s the wedding?”

You flipped off the camera before standing up and walking away. Steve just shook his head and chuckled. 

[my-fanfic-library]

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [22]

Masterlist

~^*^~

“Drac!”

The gasp of his name filled the hallway, right after the sound of his hand slapping your ass. He chuckled, your pout only managing to be adorable to him.

“I couldn’t help it. My god, I never want to see you wear anything except leggings again.” He breathed.

“Typical male.” You rolled your eyes, hitching the strap of your gym bag higher up your shoulder.

You stalked towards the elevator, ignoring the hot gaze the vampire was currently giving you. Maybe inviting him to the gym was a very bad idea. Especially in the outfit he had decided to sport to “fit in”. A muted grey/green t-shirt, a little baggy, a little low cut on the neckline, exposing just a tease of his collarbones. The black joggers were an anomaly to his usual wardrobe choices.

“Instead of going to the gym, I propose we stay here and improvise.” You finally turned your head to send him a venomous look.

“You literally took months of reluctance to even fucking finger me and now you won’t even let me go to the gym because my leggings rile you up?” You feigned an angry tone, “stay here if that’s how you’re going to be.” You pressed the button, waiting for the elevator.

“I already told you, I can’t do what I want to you. Did our little session the other day ease any of your tension?”

You rolled your eyes, face flushing as you thought back to a few days ago. The doors opened and you strolled in, the tall vampire hot on your heels. You turned to face the doors, only to almost knock into his chest. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist and pulled you up to your tippy toes. You glared up at him as the door snapped shut.

“You didn’t answer my question.” His voice was a little gravelly, the sound of it making your heart skip a beat.

“I rolled my eyes. That’s an answer in my books.”

“Clearly I’m going to have to do something more... strenuous next time.” His lips came down on to your jawline, pressing tender kisses to your skin. You hummed.

Then, his fingers slipped a little lower, eventually making their way to your ass. He squeezed, making sure to get as much into his hands as he could.

“Stop!” You laughed, twisting away from him. His grip tightened.

“Why?” He whispered against your skin, “we are the only occupiers of the elevator, right now. Would it be so terrible?”

“Yes, seriously I’m about to go back upstairs and change.”

“Don’t,” he growled, squeezing harshly, causing your to gasp, your hands moved to snake around his neck, “even think about it.”

“I have no idea what’s made you so possessive all of a sudden, but you pack it in now, mister.” You playfully commanded.

Dracula’s lips continued on your neck, and he clearly had no intention of stopping even after the elevator had reached the bottom of the building and the doors opened.

~^*^~

The gym was an... experience. Upon leaving, you vowed to never let Dracula tag along again. No less than four times did he get into altercations with other men who had been ogling you (three out of the four being during your squat session), and he was adamant on just watching you which was off putting. When you had invited him along, you had hoped that he would actually partake in exercise.

Apparently you were too distracting.

Said the man who had sat on the bench press, practically drooling whilst you did your warming up lunges and stretches.

Yeah, he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere near the gym again if that was where you intended to go.

When you returned back to the apartment, you noticed a missed call on your phone. Your mother. Whilst you had been in contact with her, it was time for her annual summer party, in which all of her friends, and their friends, and her colleagues and their friends crowded your home for hours on end. It was so exhausting to have to socialise with so many people that you didn’t know or care about.

As you called her back, you regretted it almost instantly.

“[First]! Finally, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you!”

“Yeah, sorry, I was at the gym.”

“Look, you know that my party is next week, right? You’re going to come, aren’t you?”

“Erm, I don’t actually know...”

“Oh come on, [First], I haven’t seen you in so long! You have to come!”

“Well, I mean, I’ve not been in London long and-“

“Yes, apparently you’ve shacked up with some man!”

“Mother!” You shrieked. Clearly Dracula had heard, since he turned around to send you the most devilish grin. You batted him away, “that’s not true!”

“Well, Martha rang me up and told me she saw you out shopping with some man your father’s age! And then Daphne FaceTimed me and told me she’d seen you in a car on two occasions with the same man!”

“Oh my god!” You groaned, “stop listening to gossip about your own daughter from the fishwives!” You scolded.

“I’ll keep going if you don’t agree to come.” You could hear her playful smile.

“Alright! Fine, I’ll come.”

“And bring your mystery man - apparently he’s quite a looker-“ you hung up, not wanting to think about your own mother drooling over your boyfriend.

“Who was that lovely woman?” Dracula was very clearly trying to wind you up.

“Oh shut it.” You snapped, “you’re just smug because they think you’re attractive.”

“Well, I am.” He stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh!” You groaned, stomping away to get dressed.

The week dragged. Your mother was constantly ringing to harass you over the party. ‘Black tie but casual, [First]!’ ‘Don’t forget that Brenda’s son Mark is coming, I believe you’d suit each other quite nicely!’ ‘Have you decided what you’re going to wear?’ ‘Your entrance fee can be a platter of those nice little sandwiches you make!’

It was dizzying and to add insult to injury, your mother’s constant inquires on your “mystery man” was blowing up his ego quicker than you could say ‘bloodsucker’. Oh, if you had a stake you’d strike it right through his heart if it meant one moment of peace. You eventually told him about your mother’s plan to hook you up with this Mark (which had been ongoing since you were 16 and he was 18) which switched his mood a whole 180° extremely quickly. Now you had an impatient mother and a grumpy vampire.

Was god punishing you for your fornications with the man currently lying next to you, facing towards the wall instead of you?

Technically you hadn’t even had sex, so technically there was nothing to punish.

Or was it just because he was a vampire?

You scoffed in amusement at your thoughts.

“Thinking about Mark are you?” Dracula grumbled.

“Oh yes.” You jeered, “tall, handsome Mark and how I think I may have to take up my mother’s offer and see him to dinner. I wonder how far he’d go on the first date... it’s been a long time since I’ve had sex-“

Within a matter of seconds, you were pinned under the vampire, his dark pools swimming with all sorts of angst. His lips curled down into a scowl. You felt like you deserved a punch to the face. How you managed to dig yourself an even deeper hole was beyond you.

Well, Dracula found use for the belt that had been on the bedside table and you had learnt your second lesson on purposefully making him jealous. You were sure you were growing addicted to his fingers.

~^*^~

You swallowed, looking over yourself one last time in the mirror before you stepped out of the room. The black satin cami dress was formal, right? It came down to your knees, with a little bit of a peplum hem at the bottom. It was a little revealing, mostly on your chest, but you had accessoried to keep the attention on the gorgeous Whitby Jet wrapped around your neck concealing your bite. Yes, you looked fine.

Nerves would always eat you up before you attended these stupid parties.

Stepping out into the main room, you held your breath. Holy fuck. Dracula was leaning against the table, clearly bored of waiting for you. His hair was tousled back, a few strands falling forwards towards his forehead. A black shirt sat undone on the upper half of his chest, and over the top a black suit jacket rolled up past the elbows. You oggled his forearms and the image of the way they flexed as he pumped his fingers into you flashed through your head. Your eyes moved down to his legs, form fitting suit pants showcasing his thighs and you almost drooled. Running a hand through your hair, you coughed, grabbing his attention.

The moment his eyes fell on you, your heart quite literally stopped. His eyes... oh dear god. It was the way you’d begged god to make someone look at you. Just once. So much love, a sparkle of utter awe of you, glistening the truth of his affection. His lips quirked up into a smile. His eyes racked over your body, loving the way your dress fit you perfectly, hinting at your body but leaving the majority of it to the imagination. It was long enough to not be dignity-diminishing, but short enough to give attention to your legs.

“If I hadn’t made a promise to give you the best life, I would take you right here on this table,” he patted the marble, “and drink every ounce of nectar within your veins.”

“Keep talking like that and I will make you do it.” You smirked.

“I promised you I’d help you live,” he prowled towards you, unable to wait another moment to pull you into him, “and I believe you see our union differently to how I do.” He fornwed just a little and you pulled yourself into him, drowning him in your perfume and warmth.

“It’s just sex.” You retorted, looking up at him.

“Not with you it wouldn’t be.” He whispered, “and whatever coward made you think that it’s “just sex” would be advised to never come a step near to me.”

“Why, would you teach him your ideas on union?” You chuckled, your slightly dirty joke apparently going over his head.

“I’d fucking kill him for taking your body so intimately and convincing you that it meant nothing.”

You chuckled, pressing a sweet kiss to his neck. He hummed, feeling the soft fabric of your dress beneath his fingertips. He was so thankful that you had chosen him. Lucky was the understatement of the century.

~^*^~

Your mother continued to look out of the window every minute or so, anticipating your arrival. After most adamantly demanding that you bring the gentleman you had been living with, she was at a peaked curiosity. Was he truly so much older than you? And was he as handsome as her friends made out?

He turned out to be definitely rich, pulling up in a sparkling Jaguar. She almost squealed in anticipation - much like a teenager - and the tray of appetisers she had been holding flew up into the air.

Your father grumbled at the commotion and apologised to the men he had been speaking to. He explained that your mother was on edge, awaiting to see what her daughter was about to drag into the house.

The aura that swept the house when you and Dracula entered seemed to affect every guest present, and all eyes were suddenly on you.

“[First]!” She greeted lovingly, pretending she hadn’t been waiting for the last 45 minutes by th window.

“Hi mother,” you greeted, letting her pull you into a brief hug. Her eyes wandered past you and to the tall gentleman standing just at the step of the door, smiling sheepishly, “it’s alright, love. You can come in.”

Your wicked eyes sent him a mischevuous look. He frowned, knowing that you were internally laughing at him still not entering without an invitation. Would your parents mind so much if he spanked you in front of them?

“And, my, who is this... gentleman?” She breathed, clearly impressed by his face, but unimpressed at his presence with you.

“This is-“

“Count Dracula.” He cut your off, “it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. [Last].” He smiled at her, taking her hand and briefly kissing her knuckles, “[First] has told me so much about what an amazing woman you are.” She couldn’t help but laugh airily at the compliment.

“Well, I’ve done my best for my daughter. Come on through, both of you. [First], your father is just by the kitchen.”

She rushed past you, pushing past people as quickly as she could to make her way back to the kitchen. That gossip! Your eyes filtered through the people until you found your father talking to a few people. Intertwining your fingers with Dracula’s, you began to pull him into the living room when you were stopped by a man you didn’t recognise.

“What an honour it is, Count Dracula! My name is Richard Johnson, I own Johnson and Moore, a law company under your own. I was wondering when I’d finally meet the famous Dracula.” You turned to look at Dracula, who was smiling a little shyly.

“Yes, it is a pleasure to meet you as well, however as you can see I’m with-“

“No, it’s okay!” You quickly interjected, “I better go say hello to my dad before he feels rejected. I’ll let you two businessmen talk.” You winked at the vampire before scampering off towards your father.

“What a beautiful little thing she is!” Richard eyed you as you left, “you’ve got to tell me how you got such a young one.” He laughed.

“Well, I could tell you,” Dracula began with a fake smile, “but I’d have to kill you afterwards.”

Neither of them realised that you had heard and you grinned at Dracula’s words.

Your arms snaked around your father’s waist as you rested your head on his shoulder. He continued his sentence to the two men he was engaged in conversation with. When he had finished, he took a sip from his drink and then manuvered his head to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Here she is, my little detective!” He laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “you wouldn’t believe this kid used to poop in our garden drain, would you?”

“Do you have to say that to everyone you introduce me to?” You rolled your eyes, but you were grinning.

“Baby, I’m going to bring it up at your wedding and tell all of my grandbabies.” The two men standing opposite from you laughed at his words.

“I’ve read some of your journals, [First], you’ve grown into a very intelligent and respectable young woman.” You pulled yourself from your father as he spoke to you, smiling shyly.

“Thank you, I’ve worked hard to be where I am today.”

“Yes, didn’t you spent quite some time in Yorkshire?” The other man began, “your father was telling us you were part of some coverup story within the Jonathan Harker Foundation.”

“Well, that’s simply not true. And even if it were, I couldn’t tell you, Pauly.” You grinned, clearly teasing him.

“Awe, come on, [First]! Don’t you remember when I used to dress up as Santa and bring you all those wonderful presents?”

“Well, I suppose I could tell you,” you began, “but I’d have to kill you afterwards.”

Your eyes moved across the other side of the room and locked with your favourite pair in the entire world. He was smirking right back at you. ‘Touche’ he mouthed at you. His eyes sparkled as they continuously washed over you. Wait... was he really eye fucking you in a room full of people?! Your father’s conversation ended quickly after that and he was quick to pull you into the corner to have a private word with you.

“You, young lady, are driving your mother up the wall with the gentleman you’ve been seeing, you know that don’t you?” He was unable to hold back his amusement.

“Of course I know that.” You laughed.

“Then go and talk to her!” He laughed. Clearly he was already growing drunk.

“Alrighty. Don’t drink too much, okay?” You patted his arm, side stepping to get ready to make your way to the kitchen.

“I can’t promise you anything, buttonnose.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek and sent you on your way to the kitchen.

Before you even made your way in, you could hear all of the wives whispering and giggling. Did they seriously not realise that they were not still school girls? You rolled your eyes and made your way in.

Your mother jumped at your intrusion and you were soon bombarded in compliments on how pretty you’d gotten, how tall you’d grown, congratulations on your work, and question upon question about Dracula and intimate details of your plans. Mostly marriage and children.

Two hours later and you found yourself by your mother’s side. Dracula had blended in well, making conversation with almost everyone that approached him. You had barely seen him, but your mother had been talking quite a bit to him. Standing washing your hands after eating a few greasy little bites, she came to your aide.

You were dreading whatever she had to say and prayed that this would be a short and sweet conversation. She was obsessed with you getting into a relationship and you had finally found someone that made you happy and she wasn’t satisfied.

“[First],” she began warily, “Dracula seems... nice...”

“He is.” You answered stoically.

“When did you meet him?”

“When I was working in Whitby last year.” You grasped a tea towel, beginning to dry your hands.

“Is he a detective like you?”

“First of all, I am not a detective - I’m a Supervisory Special Agent specialising in criminology. Secondly, he is not a detective and you would know from all of your eavesdropping that he is a businessman.”

“Don’t accuse your own mother of eavesdropping!” She scolded.

“Weren’t you?” You challenged.

“I just... I just think you’ve made a mistake, [First]. He’s your father’s age for crying out loud!” She hissed, clearly not wanting the other wives to hear such an embarrassing conversation.

Silly woman. He’s ten times your father’s age.

You scoffed at her words.

“What, so because he’s a little older than me I can’t be with him?”

“No, I’m not saying that I’m just-... is he your sugar daddy?!” She suddenly gasped.

“No mother!” You exclaimed.

“I had to ask, sorry.”

“What, did Brenda tell you that? Or maybe Daphne? When will you all grow up and stop gossiping over your own children?!” She went quiet.

“...Will you at least consider Mark...?”

You groaned, having to throw the tea towel down and leave the room. Your face was flushed with anger and when you looked back up, your jaw hit the ground.

“Jack?”

~^taglist^~

@vampiregirl1797 @avalanet @bunnyreese12 @nerdonpluto @teamceleries @grifffins @hitbythunder @winterseoul @mymagicsuitcase @angeli-fucking-cat @benedictethegoddess @bloodhon3yx @nifflersravenclaw @writteninthestars288 @labelladrama @frankcastlesgrunts @angelicdestieldemon @quakerlasss @aliisa-jones @wolverinexmenn @clairedragonessbaker @cryiner @mitsukatsu @piratewhore @your-pixels-are-showing @tardisnesss @ladydovahkiin180 @catwomom @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes @th3rah @viper-queen @mephdcosplay @greghouse7 @faeprinces @kokoro-no-yami @trishaferdream @therealmoni @crazytxgradstudent @sansthelonelypunster @crowley-needs-a-hug @girlonfireice @wasntpriscilla @ivanna6026

[donnajons]

Leave Paris, Move to Gotham Chapter 1

More than 180?! Are you guy okay?! No but in serious note, thank you guys for liking this story, but special kudos to @mikantsume for being the first one. This an small chapter, not too much Daminette but more about Marinette.

New last name was a total accident.

 In Marinette’s defense she has never been good at speaking English while under pressure, so when her new landlady asked her what her last name was, the blue eyed girl look around searching for a last name. It was totally a coincidence that her future landlady had a newspaper with title in gigantic black letters “WAYNE INDUSTRIES...”

 “My name is Marinette Wayne.”

 The woman looked at the girl. It wouldn’t be the first time that a girl with no papers, no luggage, and a ton of small bill wanted to rent an apartment at the same time they claim that their parents were fine with it. She knew that look in marinette’s face. It was the same face that she has seen in hundreds of girls that ran away. The landlady didn’t ask any further questions. She just gave the girl her key of her new apartment.

 “The rent is due every first Friday of the month. It includes water and light bills.”

 Marinette took the key and walked to the stairs. The elevator was out of service since seven years ago.

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

A month is enough time to develop a routine, and Marinette had a routine that she followed so religiously. 

 She woke up every morning at 4:30 a.m. to take a shower and prepared something for breakfast. Then at 5:30, she would go to work. She was lucky to be hired as a seamstress in a fancy boutique on the other side of the city. The pay wasn’t bad, and the owner of the boutique didn’t ask many questions of why she would like to work there. She must have thought that she was a high schooler in search a Summer job. She had to catch the bus of 5:45 to get to work at 6:20. She worked until 4:30 p.m. Then she came back to her apartment to make sure that the box of the miraculous was where she left it, under some loose boards of the floor under her bed. By five, she was back to her apartment, where she began studying the miraculous with help of Tikki. She studied, trained, and finally ate. Ten she prepared herself to go to sleep.

 This was her least favorite part of her routine.

 Every night, she woke up around midnight choking on her own tears. The nightmares began the day she moved to Ghotam, and they always were the same: her parents being crushed the bakery while they were set on fire. Every single time, she failed to save them because those emerald eyes were always holding her back. 

 The hero became the pray.

 If it wasn’t for Tikki, Marinette wouldn't have the strength to wake up every morning and get out of bed. She was deeply in debt with the goddess of creation.

 “Marinette, I think you should go out.” The red Kwami told her as her holder keep writing.

 One benefit of working at Gotham Boutique was that Marinette got Sundays off. She was free to do as she pleased, and in this case, it was to study the miraculous.

 “Thank you, Tikki, but I am fine.” She kept writing.

 Tikki flew towards the bluenette and took her pencil away.

 “Tikki, please give it black!” She tried to catch her, but she flew to high.

 “No until you catch a break.” She looked at her holder with sadness. “Marinette, look at you. You are slowly getting sick. You just work, study, and train. You are getting thinner, and there are black bags under your eyes. You cannot do this any longer. You will get sick if you don’t catch a break” 

 It was true. Marinette wasn’t the same person than she was a few months ago. Her cherish; her innocence was gone. She just wanted to survive instead of live. Things that she found pleasure before didn’t make her happy anymore. She didn’t design anymore because she  didn’t have time and will power. She didn’t allow herself to eat sweets because it reminds her of the bakery. Thank the Kwamy that Tikki liked the cookies of the supermarket because Marinette couldn’t bake. It just brought so many memories. 

 “Tikki, please”

 “No, Marinette. If you don’t do it for you, at least take care of yourself for the sake of the miraculous. If you get sick, then no one is going to protect the miraculous anymore.” Tikki hated when she tricked her holder with selfish motivations like this, but it was the only way.

 The girl was quiet for a moment and signed.

 “I guess a little walk will not do any harm.”

 The goddess of creation smilled, “Good. I heard there is a park not too far from here. There is also an ice-cream shop. We could go and try one.”

 Marinette picked up her purse (her bose gave it to her as a bonus for a well done job) and took some money from a hidden cookie can that  she had beside the dishwasher. She has been putting money there in case they need to flee. Tikki insisted that Marinette shouldn’t  work too much because she could simply make money with her powers, but Marinette didn’t want to risk it. 

 So, all those years with the miraculous, made Chat and Ladybug sensitive to when other Kwamies use their powers. Marinette couldn’t risk their positions for something so trivial like money. 

 After Marinette checked that the miraculous box was well hidden for the third time, she and left the apartment.

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

 Gotham is not that bad… in the day.

 The city of course has its dangers, so many that mugger was considered an official profession, but there are places that made it tolerable. An example of this is the ice cream shop that was three streets from Marinette’s place. It had pretty good flavor and even ice cream yogurt. They weren’t as good as Andre’s, but maybe that’s why Marinette like it. The place and its ice creams were far too different from Andre that it didn’t bring any memories about Paris.

 The girl bought a strawberry ice yogurt with an immense number of cookies for Tikki, and they decided to eat it on a bench in the park that was in front of the ice cream shop. The park was considerable nice. Yes, it lacked the color green, but it had a playground and a pretty fountain, were they decide to eat their yogurt. The fountain, as well as almost the whole Gotham city, had a Gothic design.

 Marinette tried to focus on her yogurt and the fountain to not think about the miraculous box and how she left it alone in her apartment, in the city where anyone could get there and stole it from her.

 Marinette was about to stand up and run to her apartment when a tall woman appeared in front of her. 

 “Hellooo! Sweetheart! Would you like to get a pretty good, new hair style?” The woman in front of her was in her mid twenties and had blonde hair with the points dyed blue and pink. Her skin looked too pale that made her look like a course. Her clothes… well her clothes matched her hair. 

 The mysterious woman gave Marinette a smile and flyer. 

 “There is a new beauty salon two streets from here. My friends run it. If you bring this flyer, they will give you a discount on anything: dyeing, cut, hair extensions, a permanent. You name it they will do it!” Then without any warning, the energetic woman left, leaving a very confused Marinette.

 The girl looked at the flyer. Maybe, it was a good thing that the mysterious woman interrupted her. If it wasn’t for her, she would be in her apartment counting the miraculous one by one. She still wanted to go to her apartment, but at least the that horrible feeling pressing her chest was almost gone.

 “Are you thinking on going?” The red Kwamy asked her and breaking her from her trance.

 Marinette took a few deep breaths and shocked her head as she covered her mouth to avoid attention. “We don’t have the money to do it even if it had a discount. They may charge at least fifty dollars for just doing highlights.”

 “But what about the two hundred dollars in you right front pocket?”

 The girl opened her eyes in surprise to quickly search her pockets. She found out two hundred dollars in bills of twenty.

 “Tikki! You cannot make money like this!” She whispered a she put the money back at her pockets. “Char will know that you use your powers and will find us!” Marinette felt how her eyes water up and her chest numbing up.

 Tikki hugged her hand inside of the purse. 

 “Marinette, he will not. He will feel that I used my powers, but he will not know where I used it. We are safe. You are safe. Breath, just breath.”

 It was moments like this that Marinette remembered that she hated this life. She couldn’t allow herself to be weak even though akumas could not longer hunting her. She was the guardian of the miraculous, the last of her kind. If she was weak, somehow, she exposed the life of millions.

 The guardian took a deep breath, “A-are you sure. Tikki? What if he finds us? God, I’m an invisible. I-I deserve this.”

  “A hundred present.” The goddess took her hand even tighter. “You deserve a better life Marinette. You deserve to have a night of sleep where the only reason you wake up is because you drank too much water before bed, not because of terrible nightmares. You deserve to have more free time instead of working too hard because you are keeping cash in case we need to go. You deserve to do your own clothes instead of buying the discount clothes that sell in Walmart that are either way too big or short. You deserve a pretty hair style, maybe cut the bangs that almost cover your eyes, and you know why? Because you are the best person in the world. What people may think about you, what he may want you to be, doesn’t define you worth. Listen to me, You don’t deserve this life, you deserve better.”

 Like it was mentioned before, Marinette survive because Tikki was there with her, loving her, being her mentor, even a mother.

 Cleaning her tears and petting the goddess head, Marinette stood up and walked away fast.

 “Where are we going Marinette?”

 “To the salon, I’m going to paint my hair pink.”

  The beauty salon was call The Sirens.

 The place was pretty, painted with the colors of white, black, and baby blue. The woman that attended her was beautiful, gorgeous. She had short hair and pretty eyes. Her name was Selena. She gave her a smile when she showed her the flyer.

 “So, I guess you met my peculiar friend.” She said as she put a cape around her shoulders.

 “I-I did, she seemed… energetic. I like that she called me Sweetheart. Not many people call pet names without being malicious.”  

 Selena let go a smile. “Malicious? You aren’t from here, don’t you? Not too many people use that kind of language here.”

Was her accent too thick? She tried to make it less Frenchish and more American or at least a little bit of Asian.

 “No, I just moved to Gotham, looking for a new start.”

 “And why here? If you don’t mind me asking. There are other safer and prettier cities like Central City or Metropolis, even Coast City.”

 Marinette moved her shoulders. Selena thought that the girl was too shy.

Why Ghotam? Well the answer is simple. Gotham has something that those cities don’t, or well, something that is more prominent there: real vigilantes, and real criminals, and why the hell this could be a good thing? Because the media focused on big criminals like the Joker and Vigilantes like Batman, not in a run away girl like her.

“But Marinette could not tell her that.

 “I guess luck.” Marinette said in a tone that was almost a murmur.

“SO, let’s see. An alone teenager with a forgein accent in the most dangerous city in the US is looking for a new hairstyle though her hair is super pretty (maybe a cut on her bangs) without visible parents or friends” Selena had enough information to make an assumption about the girl: she was a run away just like her when she was her age.

“Pray tell, do you have a Summer job? Most kids like you have one to you know to buy things like wphones buy pretty clothes ” Or any kind of income so you don't starve to death or sleep in the streets.

Marinette looked at the woman. Maybe she wanted to be nice “I do actually, I work as a seamstress in a boutique. It a pretty good job.”

Selena smiled as she took off her ponytail. “That's good. So what do you want me to do?”

“Can you make my hair pink?”

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[fromthewifecage]

Muscly, strong Kombatants (aka: Bench press me Daddy!)

Anonymous asked a question can i request a strength kink with the mortal kombat kast? like, the reader has a strength kink if that makes sense! I have to admit that this stumped me. I hope that what I have written is ok, it has become about strength and muscles, and I managed 3 kombatants as it quickly became really long. I did initially come up with a very silly premise where Kitana hosts an ‘Outworld’s Strongest Kombatant’ kompetition instead of Mortal Kombat ( a parody of the World’s Strongest Man competition). Maybe once I have finished my Erron Black piece (and that should be up hopefully tomorrow!) and finish my Bi-Han Ask for the amazing @tomoka0013 (which may take a good while, sorry!!!) then I will attempt it. This Ask features Erron Black, Johnny Cage and Bi-Han (I know, no Kano?! I just couldn’t make anything work.) The Bi-Han portion is inspired by conversations with @tomoka0013 and her own work (which you really must read if you don’t already). Erron Black:  You wouldn’t think a man like Erron would be quite as muscular as he is, but beneath those outfits he has thickly muscled arms that make your heart pound dangerously hard, and you find yourself shamefully wet/hard when he first strips off his shirt in your company. Outworld is hot and humid and Erron is has no problem losing his clothes. If his shirt gets sweaty then it’ll restrict his movement, so he has no qualms in stripping down to just a pair of jeans, his boots, and of course, his hat. He’s no idiot either and he knows what his physique does to those around him. Eyes widen as he tugs up his shirt to reveal washboard abs, a trim waist and hip bones that tug the gaze downward. Lips catch between teeth to stifle a moan as material slides over tanned skin and he arches his back before tossing his shirt aside. People lose their train of thought and end up babbling inanity, and when you’re a hunter like Erron, disarming your prey is always going to help you claim a bounty. More after the cut!!!!!!

Kotal Kohn has asked you to fetch Erron from his hut that lies deep into the secluded woods on the edges of the Palace grounds. Erron prefers to stay out of the way of others, he’s been around people for so long that he’s tired of inane chatter. Every so often he’ll invite someone back to the cabin and they’ll spend a long weekend indulging in each others pleasure, but he’s not a man for long relationships, or so you’ve told yourself. You pass through lush undergrowth, birds call to one another and insects of every colour dart from flower to flower collecting nectar. As you draw closer to the cabin you hear the rhythmic sound of what you hope is Erron hard at work at the wood block, rather than jungle inhabitants beheading wayward travellers on their way to pass messages to handsome bounty hunters. Pushing past a final clump of spiked fronds and branches, you are greeted by the wonderous (and almost overwhelmingly erotic) sight of a shirtless Erron (still wearing his hat of course), attacking a wood pile with a huge axe. “Hey, darlin’.” He calls out without turning towards you and brings his axe around in an arc to splice the log in front of him into halves. “Oh, hey.” You’re quite impressed you got out some words that weren’t ‘By the Elder Gods, you’re beautiful!.’ “Kotal sent ya?” Another log is cleaved in two but you don’t really notice. You can’t take your eyes off the way his back muscles ripple when he swings the axe, his biceps bulging and the roll of his hips as he swings the axe. “Mmmm hmmm”. Your eyes follow the curve of his beautiful ass as he bends to tug the axe from the tree stump. Erron chuckles at your open admiration for him and when you tear your eyes from his ass he gives you a wink and a filthy grin that makes all sorts of tingly feelings stir deep inside. “Now look at me distractin’ you from your errand, haven’t I been a bad boy? Come on, darlin’, gonna help me put these logs on the pile?” His voice is deep and teasing and wriggles a fiery trail through your insides like cheap booze. It takes a huge effort to swallow down the whimper that wants to escape your mouth when Erron nods you towards a large wood pile at the side of his cabin. You trot after him and pluck a few logs from the ground, but they’re heavy and you’re slightly worried that some Outworld earwigs have made the logs their home and might bite. Erron chuckles again and fills your arms with wood, then grabs you by the hips and gives you a gentle push in the direction of the stacked wood pile. You drop half the wood in surprise at his handling of you, and drop another few logs on your way to the pile, so it takes you both a while to transport all the wood to the pile. Erron grabs the larger hunks of wood, hefting them over his shoulder seemingly with no effort whatsoever, making sure he catches your eye every time he plucks another log from the ground, making sure to bend over a lot and flex his biceps. When the task is finally done you’re both laughing at each other. Erron laughing at how red you’ve gotten, your hair sticking to your forehead and your top molding to your chest and back. You laughing at him increasingly showing off just how strong he is whilst trying oh so very hard not to notice the beads of sweat that slide down his tanned skin, following over every muscle and being frustrated by his jeans being in the way from seeing everything you want. “Ugh, finished, tired, hot.” You puff out a long and exhausted breath. “Oh, we haven’t started yet, Sweetheart.” Erron grins then plucks you off your feet, tossing you over his shoulder, gives you a firm pat on the ass to make you squeal, and makes for the entrance of his cabin. Kotal will have to wait a good while for Erron’s reply. Johnny Cage: Younger!Johnny is perfectly aware of the affect his looks have on people, especially his muscular figure. During photoshoots he loves to hear the muffled gasps from the lighting technicians who had previously feigned nonchalance at being in a room with the biggest movie star in the world. He gives the make-up artist a wink when they can’t hold his gaze and their hands shake when applying the body oil to his amazing chest and thickly muscled arms. He chuckles when the wardrobe assistant doesn’t quite know where to put their hands when they’re adjusting the fit of his trousers so they hug his incredible asscheeks. He is shameless and he doesn’t care. It gets him a lot of sex and from those he doesn’t take to bed, they’re so desperate for him that they’ll do anything for him.

When baby Cassie comes along his worldview does a 180*. He doesn’t have time to think about himself anymore, all he cares about is his child and making sure she is safe and happy. He becomes a greater person, less selfish, more humble, kind and caring. It’s when he picks little!Cassie up from school and hears the whispers and notices the admiring glances from the single parents, (and let’s face it, the not so single ones too) that he remembers his younger days and mentally face palms. Not that an admiring glance is a bad thing, it’s just who he was inside, and he’s glad he’s not him anymore. He notices you giving his physique some admiring glances, your cheeks darkening and the corners of your mouth curling despite your very best efforts to hide your smiles. He respects that you try your very best to hide your feelings for him, but he’s still a cheeky git and sometimes wears his most ass hugging trousers he owns around you just to get you to flush even brighter pink than you normally do. The night after an attack on the Special Forces base by some Black Dragon idiots, a portion of the housing huts lay in rubble and smoke. Johnny is the first out, safety gloves and goggles reluctantly on, but stripped to the waist. His muscles are bulging, biceps shining with beads of sweat as he picks up rebar and joists as if they were made of foam and carries them over to a large skip and tossing them in seemingly with no effort at all in. A quick wipe of his forehead with the back of his glove, a wink at you from behind his goggles, and he’s striding back to the devastation to heft more debris over his shoulder. There gets to be quite a crowd, all of you just gawking at the muscle-bound adonis. Each time he bends over to tug at a chunk of rebar, you sigh in unison at seeing his ass strain at his trousers. When he straightens and hefts the rebar over his shoulder (biceps bulging even more impressively) you each in unconscious unison lift a hand to your mouth as if a delicate Edwardian heroines seeing your brave husband help save poor orphans from a fire started by the cruel Reverend Kano. It’s Cassie who laughingly points out the crowd of “Dad’s groupies” to Johnny. Johnny has been so into the task at hand that he didn’t even notice after a while. He gives a sheepish wave and bows with a flourish, then gets back to clearing the rubble. A rush of heat flares in your cheeks at realising you’ve been doing nothing but staring, and pulls you back into reality. You quickly rush in to help with the effort, pulling on your own pair of gloves and grab at a far lighter chunk of rubble. Later that night a knock on your door rouses you from where you lay dozing on your sofa. You’d spent hours helping out, and tried so very hard not to stare at Johnny and imagine him in spandex and domino mask because, let’s face it, he’s practically a superhero, and only recently got back to your own quarters where you’d stumbled into the shower and flopped on the sofa to doze. Pulling open the door you’re greeted by a smiling Johnny. “Hope I’m not interrupting?” It takes a good few seconds of blinking and dry mouth before you shake your head and motion Johnny to enter. He smells of expensive soap, his hair is still wet from a shower, and fuuuuck, he’s so beautiful you almost whine. “Good.” He winks, then scoops you up in his arms and carries you inside, laughing when you squeak with delight. “Now, maybe I’ve noticed how you’ve been looking at me, and thought we could do something about that?” With ease and an even wider grin, he tosses you back onto the sofa and waits for you reply. You’re not going to turn him down, are you? Bi-Han: Bi-Han takes his rigorous and strenuous training very seriously. His has to live up to his Grandfather’s mantel and show these other arseholes just how fucking amazing he is. He could do it all in the sleep, but he wants to be perfect and that takes effort, so he will train until he knows he is unstoppable, and then he’ll train some more to make those biceps and pecs mesmerisingly perfect. He’s used to jealous looks from the rest of the Lin Kuei; even Sektor can’t hide his seething rage at being inferior to the beautiful cryomancer. After coming second to him in every contest, in every class, Sektor finally loses his fraying hold on his temper and attacks Bi-Han in a futile attempt to prove that he was the star pupil of the Lin Kuei, not this upstart orphan. Sektor ends up in the infirmary, (almost the morgue) with an enormous spike of ice through his chest and his ego wounded even more viciously. Bi-Han goes back to training after calmly placating the Grandmaster, who is quite understandably worried that his son Sektor may die. Bi-Han is not just physically gifted, he can charm his way out of almost any situation, and with a few words and some first class acting talent, he assures the Grandmaster that Sektor made a grave error and Bi-Han was simply doing what he had been trained, to defend himself and the honour of the Lin Kuei. Bi-Han calmly focuses and calls ice to form between his moving hands, ordering it to form wickedly sharp spikes. His biceps bulge with the effort, his teeth gritting and every muscle in his body quivers as he draws the ice into the form he demands. Targets spring into life around him and he leaps, turning not only himself through the air but also the ice spikes, fanning them out with incredible accuracy at the cloth and wood dummies. He lands on the balls of his feet then backflips when another target appears, his hands fanning out to direct a spray of ice to freeze the target solid. Targets appear from opposite directions, but Bi-Han calmly moves to brutally kick the head from one whilst plunging a conjured ice dagger into the throat of the other, then leaping forward to aim a powerful kick at the head of the frozen target. The target explodes in a spray of ice and sawdust innards and the graceful assassin lands behind the headless sagging dummy, ready for whatever is next. He never lets up, never pauses, never allows himself to be left open for even a single moment. He is magnificent and beautiful and your eyes can’t look anywhere else but at his heavily muscled frame. He wears but a thin layer of material, allowing you the gift of watching his muscles move and strain beneath the tunic. He is both graceful and yet so powerful. He lifts giant hunks of ice that likely weight more than he does, and toss them at targets with pin point precision. He forms frozen weapons and shields without even pausing to wipe the thin layer of sweat that forms on his brow and dampens the back of his tunic to emphasise his muscular frame. You take a breath and blink, suddenly aware the sun must have gone down hours ago and you’ve been watching Bi-Han training all that time. As you breathe out your breath fogs white into the night air, all the warmth from the earlier sunshine has gone. You’re wearing a similar and equally thin tunic to Bi-Han, and you’re absolutely fucking freezing. You look at the sky to try to gage the time and when you look back to the training arena, Bi-Han has disappeared. “Shouldn’t you be training rather than spending all your time staring at me?” Bi-Han’s imposingly tall form moves out from the shadows beside you, startling you. He smirks at having startled you. “You really should be training, a simple trick like that should never catch you off guard.” You nod, ashamed of being caught out so easily. “First, we’ll eat. I should celebrate my earlier victory over Sektor.” He cocks his head, waiting for your reaction, wondering if you would agree or take Sektor’s side. “Sektor was an arrogant fool, he got what was coming to him.” Although you were new to the Lin Kuei, Sektor had not impressed you like Bi-Han had. The Cryomancer laughs and flashes a wicked smile, then grasps your hand, turning you before pushing you against the stone wall behind you. “You are really quite desperate for me, aren’t you?” The night is cold enough but Bi-Han radiates a cold you hadn’t experienced before. When his breath touches your face, ice crystals form on your skin to feel like hundreds of faint kisses. You feel the chill in your lungs with every breath you take and every hair on your body stands on end. If you weren’t so utterly in love with this man you’d run, but you can’t, you don’t want to, all you want is here before you. He leans in closer and he’s such a tall and imposing man that when he bears down on you he’s all that you can see. “Yes.” Your admission delights Bi-Han and he uses your surprise at a sudden burst of laughter to grab you by the waist then heft you over his shoulder. “First we’ll eat, then we’ll fuck.”

[repeterwiggin]

i decided to make notes as I watched POF (SVSR) for the second time and damn. it’s just as much of a rollercoaster even when you know what’s coming (warning this is long there’s a lot going on)

- wild to me how we jump straight in!

- lee & mary lee are adorable & also thomas at the wedding is a Mood literally me at all my friends weddings

- the flashback breaks my heart,

- Patton is still a really good trier... he’s so good and he tries so hard and I love him

- the way thomas rips off his suit jacket...

- the song that isn’t sung!

- Patton says “we four helped you” but there were five sides in svs hmm I feel like that’s probably significant in some way

- the ace attorney ref makes me very happy! there was a secret path of me hoping for for a professor layton reference but this is ehhhh kinda close?

- the fact that the first thing they say is “why didn’t we talk to lee and mary lee” like. yeah!!

- WE SHOULD START LOOKING I TO WAYS TO PREDICT THE FUTURE! he’s a little confused but he’s got the spirit

- patton and roman bffs!!

- feral cats,,, what a tangent i stan roman

- I like that we get some more context to the invite as well, like being asked face to face does add another element to the dilemma

- Dame Judy Dench = Queen Groovy Bench I see you using those Good Place swears, Roman

- “maybe they ... feel guilty” is like. I get where you’re coming from Patton but talking to them should’ve been step one imo like. I have been to lots of friends weddings and talking to them is important

- “I’m not sure there was a good ending to get” ... “for he’s a jolly good fellow!”

- them calling Patton out for how critical he’s been!!! very important!!! and I appreciate that Patton is trying “I’m just trying to help you be a good as you can be!” he still has more to learn but still im love him

- the bagel callback lol

- GameStore instead of GameStop lol Patton

- FROGGER

- “he eats fly for breakfast”

- We’re ten minutes in and there’s already so much going on

- Also I just want to appreciate that thomas is such a good actor I can tell which side is speaking just from their voice like the cadence is different and they way they say words ahhh it’s something I’ve thought about before but it’s really hitting me with these voice over segments

- Leslie Odom Jr lol if only we’d known

- The Pokemon battle format is so good and I love that it’s being used for a “do you give money to a homeless actor”

- The hotdog puns....

- Logan’s Lowdown!!!

- Roman mouthing “behoove” to Patton is very cute but I feel bad for Logan :(

- Pixel Logan is adorable

- The fact that roman immediately goes “ignorant” breaks my heart listen to logan!!! please!!!!

- Patton trying to soften his thoughts is kind of painful to watch

- “As long as that’s not the main reason you’re doing it!” Patton no,,,,,,,,

- Roman needs to be listened to more he looks so defeated when Patton doesn’t agree with him and only continues after serious prompting I feel like he’s been ignored too many times lately I’m very excited for a roman arc :((

- “Leslie Odom Jr’s....literal cake that he baked!!!”

- Logan’s fun fact popping up in the mario scene!! that’s my boy!!!

- Also the fact that roman is immediately painting deceit as the bad guy after they spent all of svs getting along......like, I feel like after the other sides decided that deceit wasn’t at all genuine or looking out for thomas’ best interests roman did a full 180* on him which makes sense for romans character but is also kinda depressing bc in is lying okay? and svs he was like “oh he’s not that bad!!” And now he’s like “scute bellied tyrant!!” damn

- Patton let’s him talk and then immediately is like “uuuuh no” yikes

- Roman targets all his insults at deceit and very carefully avoids being even playfully rude to anyone else hmm I really do think he’s trying to “make up” for siding with deceit last time and in the end it doesn’t even matter :((( bc he still feels like he’s disappointing people

- Roman seems like he’s genuinely trying to understand and Patton is really struggling to articulate his thoughts and that creates such a good conflict between the two bc it’s not like theyre really against each other it’s just solid interpersonal difference. or intrapersonal I guess

- The trolley problem!!!! A classic I love it

- The way it’s animated too is so good... the “Thomas is full of dread” the way the music cuts when the train appears how it cuts right before the train hits “is it over” ahhhhhh

- Also Leslie Odom Jr again lol

- “Maybe don’t depict scenarios where my friends die” and then later Patton is specifically like “it’s lee and mary lee!!!” lol wild

- “You know we don’t like to use the T word!!!” GREAT little aside

- “So it’s the how that matters” “yeah... and the why!!!” patton baby you’re trying so hard and I love you but it’s okay. you don’t need to have all the answers. you can just not know! I promise it’s alright!

- Thomas face after Patton brings up the “figment of your imagination” things KILLS ME

- I actually disagree with Thomas on the “putting more good into the world” as not being a compelling answer BUT I think that Patton is overlooking how feeling good/having positive emotions attached with those actions IS directly putting more good into the world. like, if doing good makes you feel good, that’s a good thing!! idk

- Logan disagreeing with Patton was good and we all know logan is my favourite but I think he could’ve handled that a little better

- PATTON HITTING SKIP ALL..... sweetie no :((

- everyone has already said this but that cane is the snake boy

- Roman even pulls back the insults on a philosopher who is not there

- Also Roman being like “your desires are getting in the way” again bc he feels like he’s not being listened to or appreciated bc there’s something about him that’s “wrong” and trying to shoulder the blame bc he feels bad that his desires (success, fame, love, appreciation) are inherently selfish :(((

- “that is the stupidest thing you’ve ever said” right sentiment, terrible delivery

- the way roman says “you’re just blowing smoke” is a Lot and very much like his fishing for validation but I don’t blame him for it, after what he’s just admitted it’s truly understandable that he needs that validation

- Thomas’ point about feelings motivating him is REALLY good bc we are all motivated by our emotions

- “Doing nothing is even worse!” i mean you’re not wrong but not in the way you think,,

- Logan/Deceit (I do think it’s deceit at this point) using the oxygen mask metaphor is really great to me!!! I love that metaphor & I was going to be a flight attendant so it’s something I thought about a lot. I’ll talk about it more when Deceit brings it up again lol

- “Uuuh I do need help” mood thomas mood

- “Temporarily put himself first” oof

- “It’s easy to say what we would hypothetically do...” hard agree

- Watching logan/deceit huff and roll his eyes solidifies for me that it is deceit like something about it feels unlike Logan lol I can’t explain why

- Roman nodding along with the explanation of why leisure is important makes me very happy

- “Oh is it not? Please correct me if I’m wrong” and the way the sprite pressing further and further and being more expressive with his hands and eyebrows like damn. that’s deceit!!

- Patton’s breakdown is Iconic I love the glitching and the way it zooms out to show the layout of the living room and the way he explodes ahhhhhhh so good

- why does the frog have abs that’s my one question

- lilypadton ahdhajfka I love it

- DECEIT EX MACINA THE REVEAL IS SO GOOD as soon as he started punning (cut through this bull...frog) I was like 👀 AND THEN THE LINES AND THE CAPE AND THE LORD OF THE LIES IM HAPOY TO OBLIGE

- “CODE YELLOW”

- the deceit sprite is so cute :))))

- Deceit pulling Thomas behind him we have to stan

- “Richer than Jeff Bozos” I LOVE that roman I love you

- Deceit calling him out and the way the words themselves turn into attacks is such a fun detail

- Frog Patton still punning even in serious moments is so on brand

- Deceit dodging while thomas gets hit is a solid metaphor

- “The plane is going down, you need to give thomas some room to breathe” oof like it needed to be said but oof

- The health bars changing to “Thomas’ mental health” OOF LADS WE’RE REALLY IN IT NOW

- the way thomas looks when he steps back into frame cracks me up

- “We can still beat him! We’ve beaten him before!” oh roman, but it’s not a fight against deceit :((

- the snakes on the plane ref lmao “I’m sick of this morality fighting snake on this metaphorical plane” whoever wrote that line... I want to give them a high five truly iconic

- Deceit is so much more playful and showing more diverse personality in this ep and I’m living for it

- final fantasy!! the og version turn by turn which is what I like to play lol also the villain they’re fighting kinda looks like Virgil and idk how to feel about that

- Deceit looking away as soon as logan pops up lmaoooooo

- “Not that any of you care...” logan baby no!!!!! I care!!!!

- Effective Altruism explanation and Logan making a point to go “it employs the heart and the mind” like ... reminding Patton that they need to work together and they’re on the same side I’m soft

- Deceit and Logan agreeing warms my heart they’re both so good and ahhhh

- “Emphasis on the ‘sometimes’ though, right?” “Yeah sure whatever — I mean yes! Of course!”

- I also love how deceit addresses thomas directly they don’t do that a lot but it makes sense cause deceit is really trying to persevere thomas’ self

- Him calling roman noble and roman not believing it :((( deceit trying to be honest and ahhhhh I’m so sad

- “Selflessness isn’t always the answer” which was exactly what svs was supposed to be about

- “What do you almost all things?” “Oh you’re right we wouldn’t want to plant too many trees, imagine how much CO2 might absorbed”

- lmao why am I so impressed by Roman’s deceit impression when they’re literally the same person

- roman flipping out and attacking deceit is a Big Yikes but it’s totally in character bc roman has always been black and white even more so than Patton and it’s been building to an arc for a loooong time so I’m very excited

- Deceit taking off his glove.... saying his name......... I can’t process this

- JANUS!!!!!!!!!! It’s so good it’s perfect I love it I love him

- roman immediately laughing yikesssss

- “Oh roman thank god you don’t have a moustache otherwise between you and remus I wouldn’t know who the evil twin is” YIKESSS but also valid deceit is at a breaking point

- “I thought I was your hero” “you are!”

- I’m going to be thinking about deceit’s—JANUS’S—nod for a long time....was he agreeing with Thomas or was he saying that Thomas was lying ahhhhhhh

- “Everything’s going to be okay. We love you.” “...right” AH MY HEART

- I want to give roman a hug

- Patton asking Janus for advice like right away and Janus not being great at first but coming around quickly with the ever true “it depends” like I love the two of them together the DYNAMIC POTENTIAL

- Janus does seem fond of Patton which is cute I can’t wait for everyone to be friends again lol

- ACTUAL LESLIE ODOM JR I CANNOT

- how did they make that happen,,,, how wild

- the clapping

- “This sanders sides not odom sides,, I’m not threatened at all” that is, somehow, a mood

- “don’t kill, don’t steal, easy conclusions to come to” “even those can get iffy” “I don’t want to think about that... but maybe that proves my point!” you what we call that? growth

- “Giving too simple answers to complicated questions can do more harm than good” “mmhmm”

- “So I’m sorry! Again!” Poor boy is trying to hard and I love him :((( so much <3333

- “Oh yeah that’s cool, talk about me like I’m not here” I love you Janus!!!”

- “I’ll take care of him” and then immediately joking around and trying to make thomas laugh is very cute thomas needed something lighthearted after all of that ahhh

- “You’re not stuck with an EVIL snake boy...you’re just stuck with a snake boy!!” I LOVE YOU JANUS what an adorable nerd I would die for him

- and how excited he gets about being called right he deserves it

- “I love how much you like these constant dilemmas so please keep overthinking things” you know what I needed to hear that man

- “You can’t get doing good down to a science” WORD

- the message of treating yourself well & finding the right balance between that and doing good for others being a personal thing is very good and much needed

- Lee and Mary Lee are onscreen for like 3 minutes and I love them so much

- “So this is what you do for a living? Comedy?” “Yeah I’m a hack”

- Patton and Janus chilling on the same screen... I adore them

- “Seems like things worked out after all... I was wrong about everything!” “You and I both know that’s not true” and Patton’s soft little smile I love them!!!!

- “Odom sides would cool!” like actual Leslie Odom Jr said that.... I’m shook

- okay that’s the end it’s just as much a rollercoaster the second time around no I am not okay, thank you for your time

[dwaynepride]

Unconventional

Tony DiNozzo & leans in to kiss but then stops themselves

Words: 1,171

Warnings: None

Tags: @stanathanxoox @pageofultron @jrenn10 @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy @ms-allenbrown @ikbenplant @dylpickles1267 @diaryofafan17 @specialagentlokitty

First dates were never this effortless.

And not in the sense that it went smoothly. All of Tony’s dates went smoothly (except for one or two, but those were hardly his fault). No, it was effortless in a way that he’s never truly experienced before.

Effortless, because he didn’t even know it was a date until you both were a couple of glasses of wine in and Tony realized he was talking about his father. And not just Senior, but everything else that’s been weighing on his mind lately. The little things that challenged the carefully-constructed confidence that he likes to put out to the world. He talked about Gibbs and McGee and the new security guard at the gates who’s been giving him funny looks.

And you just listened. You didn’t look bored or uninterested. And you even chimed in your thoughts once in a while, when you think he needed them. Tony wanted to believe he didn’t, but that would be a lie.

When had he gotten so comfortable with you?

Without meaning to, his current sentence comes to a close. And he doesn’t speak up again. At least until your head tilts a little, leaning closer to try and get his attention back. “Something wrong?” You ask lightly.

You were being so nice. Looking genuinely concerned. Tony huffs out a smirk, nodding his head once. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He counters, leaning forward on the couch to set his glass on the coffee table. In theory, nothing was wrong. But Tony was really starting to wonder exactly why he asked you to swing by tonight.

Alright, he knew why. He just didn’t expect the night to do a complete 180 from what he wanted.

You shrug a little. “You kinda trailed off there. If you don’t wanna talk about it anymore...”

This time, you’re the one who trailed off, giving Tony room to make a decision. And instantly, he shook his head; this night has been too damn innocent for his taste. “Alright, you caught me. I don’t wanna talk about myself anymore.”

What can he do woo you over?

“I’m starting to run out of stories.”

There’s gotta be something. Tony’s eyes flicker around his apartment, until-

“So how about I play a little piano, instead?”

Perfect.

He stands immediately, making his way around the coffee table and plopping down on the piano bench. Tony realizes you hadn’t followed, so he twists his head over his shoulder to look at you. And he’s about to spout out a teasing little comment before he sees you, and then it’s stuck on the tip of his tongue. Because Tony can’t really remember the last time somebody had that soft a smile pointed at him.

The sight of it gives him pause before his brain starts working again. “You waiting for an invitation?”

Your laugh fills up the apartment, but you’re standing and making your way over the next second. When you take the empty spot beside Tony, you’re staring excitedly at the keys. “You never talk about playing piano. I didn’t even know you played until a month ago,” you comment as one of your fingers taps a key.

“Well, I don’t wanna brag too much. People would think I’m a show-off.”

The look you give him is incredulous, but Tony suddenly starts up a song before you can call him out on his words. It’s a song he learned a long time ago; muscle memory because it’s usually the first song he plays for his dates.

It’s easy to get into the groove of it, so Tony glances over to see your reaction. And just as he hoped, you were enamored. Watching his fingers play with a soft look in your eye, and after a few moments, you even start to sway side to side  along with the calming melody.

It makes him smile, even if your reaction isn’t one that he’s used to. His dates usually take this opportunity to give him their bedroom eyes. And then Tony would do the same; it’s the easiest way to get things started, in his experience.

So watching you sway your head side to side, and even move a little closer to your flank is pressed against his, Tony isn’t sure what he’s doing. Yeah, he knows what he’s attempting, but it suddenly feels, well, wrong? Is that the right word? McGee would probably know the one he’s looking for.

Either way, taking you to bed suddenly doesn’t sound like the right way to end this particular date.

Suddenly, your eyes are looking up at him, locking and gazing and every other word in the dictionary that meant that the world is suddenly melting away. Tony’s smile slowly falls away, eyes going half-lidded, and you follow his lead. But there’s a tiny little smirk crooking the edge of your lips, and if this were any other date, Tony would think it was downright sexy.

But it wasn’t any other date. This was you. And you meant a little more to him than a night of wine drinking and then a roll in the sheets.

Tony doesn’t notice he’s leaning in until it’s almost too late. Your breath is wafting over his lips before he suddenly backs away. Did he really just do that? Kissing his dates is only his second most favourite thing, and he’s already mentally denied himself his first favourite.

Your eyes blink open in surprise before you ultimately smile. “You don’t gotta play hard to get, Tony...” you mumble out, already leaning back in again.

But then he shakes his head, straightens his spine and turns his eyes to the piano keys. “I’m not. I promise, I just,” he stops himself, wondering if he should be honest. Would you make fun of him?

Tony felt dumb for even asking that question. You’d just spent over an hour listening to him ramble about his feelings. “I don’t know, I think I want to do this another time,” he finally admits. And it felt almost good, at least until Tony looks over and sees your hurt expression. Then he instantly backpedals. “I mean, I want to! I want to do a lot more than kiss you, I promise. But whenever I rush things, my dates don’t usually stick around for very long. And that’s not what I want from you.”

His words were a little awkward, but they seemed to do the trick. Because the hurt on your face turned into intrigue. “You want me to stick around?“ You clarify. And when Tony smiles and nods, that’s when you finally get the soft look back in your eyes.

He never thought he’d be so happy to see it return. Without warning, Tony dips his head in, giving you a surprise little kiss on the cheek because he figured it doesn’t really count.

When he backs away and sees your blink of confusion, he just grins, albeit a little cockily. “Well, I didn’t want you to go home completely empty-handed.”

[hyperionswrath--archived]

@onepartbrave

The surprise coming from Seifer was palpable. It set Squall’s mind on another path of querying why he was shocked and what part of his short sentences caused it. …Or maybe he leant in something putrid and hadn’t noticed? Eh. Whatever. Patience holding strong, he waited for the man to pass over the device he requested, having it pressed into his palm a heartbeat later. Turning back to rest both elbows on the table, he directly ignored the way it tickled when fingertips brushed his hand. Why yes, he did blank the way his heart skipped a beat at the strange, almost gentle demeanour his former rival had taken tonight. He was more than willing to forever discount the clenching of his stomach as he continued to overthink every minor detail.

…I’m never drinking again. I swear to Hyne.

When the backlight illuminated in his face, Squall squinted at the offending brightness, mouth down-turning in vague displeasure. Curiosity still loitering like a bad smell, the instant a missed message notification popped up, he automatically pressed on it to open. Revealed to him was a string of messages from one ‘Kerryboy’ with an emoji heart after. Allegedly, the man demanded to know Seifer’s whereabouts because some blockhead was interested. A picture came up as he scrolled a little, brow arching at the display.

Psh, why would Seifer take this guy out? Why did he care? …S’not that great looking. Reiterating, why does he care?

“I don’t,” he muttered aloud, moodily. Scrolling nosily to the end, he picked out the fact these people were at ‘Diamond Dust’—whatever that was—and waiting for the blond to make a grand appearance. Some obscure notion in the back of his mind barrelled forward and demanded attention. Obviously unable to ignore it in his reasonable state of mind, he found himself inclined to… tag along. Seifer didn’t appear to be sick of his company yet and he was feeling far too lucid considering he’d wanted to waste the night away, literally. With a miffed snort, he guided himself through the phone to contacts and efficiently added his own to the list under ‘Squall’.

“Not going home,” he announced when done, switching the phone back to standby and passing it back to its owner. Sitting upright and making his appearance seem less dishevelled and tipsy, he glanced the man right in the eye and exclaimed, “Goin’ with you. So, let’s mosey.”

Let’s mosey? Seriously, shut up.

For once he didn’t feel guilty over leaving food, but just in case, he shifted a little awkwardly until he was able to reach into the back pocket of his jeans and retrieve his wallet. Flipping the leather case open, he fished out (possibly) too many bills and plopped them eloquently on an empty platter dish, secured in place by the semi-empty bottle. “Should cover it,” he explained amiably, then shifting closer to Seifer on the seat to get out—despite being able to exit the other side.

“Move,” he ordered, but impatience set in and a newfound, puzzling sense of daring bolstered him on. He’d show those idiot friends who was ‘worth it’. Careless of who was watching, or any consequences caused, he climbed over Seifer to reach his target of freedom. Petulant defiance guided him and he wiggled his way, quite gracelessly, over, noting absently that Seifer’s lap too was very warm and the dancer before had the right idea of sitting on it. Finally over, he managed to get his feet out first instead of faceplanting off the end and used the backrest as support to stand.

Once he was up and ready, he glanced back at Seifer over a shoulder expectantly. “Well, c’mon, you’re showin’ me the way.”

Being busy with catching the waitresses eye, Seifer did not register the over-curious brunet sticking his nose into business it didn't belong in, namely his text messages, only looking at him with brows lifted in an inquiring manner when the man murmured "I don't" to no one in particular. "Huh? Whad'ya mean?", newly infused rum slurring his language just so. Frowning and shaking his head in confusion, the blond finally found himself able to wave the waitress over so he could let her know they wanted to pay. She sauntered away again to fetch their bill and her purse.

Irritated by how long Squall was taking to type in his number, his fingers started thrumming on the tabletop, thoughts not once brushing the idea that the man could be filing through his stuff. Frankly, he wouldn't expect the guy to be interested in his shit anyway.

But then as it turned out, nothing seemed to be really how he expected Squall to be, for suddenly he appeared to have changed his mind when he handed the phone back to him, announcing he was, in fact, not returning to his hotel. "Err... okay?", the tall blond retorted, a bit sheepishly maybe, still confused at the 180 Squall was apparently able to pull. With the notifications on his phone gone, Seifer simply stored it in the pocket of his pants, watching how slim fingers started brushing and pulling at the unruly brown hair as if to make himself look more presentable. What in Hyne's name.....?

"What? Where?" Thoughts now racing, he was simply too confused to follow the turnings of the SeeD's mind. Did... he want to come back to his home? But... why? All signs had seemed to reassure him that Squall did not want any of the closeness they somehow had ended up in for a few moments, why did he want to come with him now? He was even too perplexed to tease the choice of rather weird words. "You lost me somewhere here.", he muttered as Squall now dropped a more than sufficient amount of bills on the table, clearly not even wanting to wait for the barmaid to come over and finish the payment properly.

And the weirdness kept on giving when the lithe figure suddenly made to climb over his lap. Blinking, breath short from the sudden proximity of the other, all he found himself able to do was lift his hands to steady the brunet on his way by placing them gently on his hips. Okay, whatever was happening right now, he really didn't want to complain one bit about it, but Six, he hadn't been this flummoxed in... never? Also, the wiggling really didn't help here and the blond had to stifle some very improper sounds by biting on his lower lip. This was some kind of fever dream. He drank too much and had probably simply faceplanted into the dishes before him, was imagining things. There was simply no way that Squall Leonhart had just wiggled his hyne-bedamned way over his lap.

But yet he did, now looking down at him with impatience and, thanks to the state of mind he found himself in now again, with a look over his shoulder that was to die for. Shit, fuck, damn.

"Help me out here, where exactly are we going?", he demanded again, figuring it was pointless to keep sitting and thus pushing himself up from the bench, grabbing his coat in one go. He hated not knowing what was going on and Squall seemed to... - hold on. Frowning at the smaller man, he retrieved his phone once more, sliding his thumb over it to unlock it and navigate to his messages. Aha! Squinting an accusing look over the device to the brunet pest, he shook his head. "You read my messages?" The fact itself being so atypical for the other man, he couldn't feel the righteous anger he should but instead found himself amused, more so when he read what exactly it was the other had snooped in. Chuckling, he sat to move, still shaking his head. This was going to be interesting.

"What, you wan’ the guy they're trying to hook me up with for y'self?", he teased as he made his way to the door, holding it up for Squall and following him outside. The poor idiot had no idea what he was getting himself into right now. The 'Diamont Dust' was one of the cities biggest strip clubs, an establishment far from any tasteless bar around a corner. Here there was expensive alcohol, even more expensive company for booking and the entire building was more palace than a club. Seifer and his 'band of brothers' would usually take their more openminded dates there for some exquisite fun that could also be had inside, in special areas. He was already looking forward to the face the brunet would make. Slightly shivering when he stepped into the alley, he was about to pull on his coat when he noticed Squall, the clever leader that he was, had no jacket with him. "Here," he said flatly, shoving the Kingsglaive coat into the brunet's arms.

[theladynocturnal]

Missmatched

(Inspired by @:Ushiwakasplant)

“Excuse me blondie, but you really aren’t supposed to be in here.” The red haired boy spoke to the intruder. This intruder, who happened to be a tiny blonde girl with the biggest green eyes Tendou had ever seen on a person, was stood pressed up against the door in a very obvious state of panic. The deer like girl slowly lifted her eyes to see who had spoken, only to immediately drop them when she saw the intimidating boys stood in front of her. A tall skinny red head and a large buff olive haired boy were stood only a few feet from where she had squatted down.

“I’m really sorry to just barge into your changing rooms like this, but I need to hide from someone. So would you mind if I just stayed here for a few while I wait for him to go home?” The little blonde asked as she tried to stop herself shaking more at the almost glare like stare the two tall boys were pinning her with. Tendou cocked his eyebrow at his captain and sighed before putting his hand on the girls arm and lifting her up before stearing her to the benches near a tall, but not as tall as her new companions, black haired boy who was looking at her with worry.

“Let me go round up the others so you can tell us all what happened without having to repeat yourself, while goshiki here goes to find you some tissues for that bloody lip your sporting. By the way I’m Tendou Satori and this fall grump over here is our Captain, Ain’t that right Wakatoshi?” The redhead spoke softly as to not alarm the scared girl any more than she already was. She nodded and turned her gaze on the raven haired boy who had followed his teammate seemingly rather happy to help out such a pretty girl. The tall captain nodded and walked off to shove his clothes into his bag and to let the girl have a minute to compose herself. While the boys were all occupied the blonde wipped her tears away the best she could with the corner of her stiff polo.

Tendou had managed to quickly round up his teammates, after all they had all either been in the showers or changing their clothes, and goshiki had gotten the tissues so the boys all made their way into the enterance way to meet up with their Captain and the spooked girl. “So blondie, what’s your name and how did you find yourself in this lovely little gym of ours” Tendou asked as he plopped himself on the bench opposite the girls. Goshiki was quick to hand the girl the tissues before sitting himself next to her, all while smiling in the hopes his less intimidating aura would help to calm her. However he was nervous at the thought of being so close to such a pretty girl, that much was obvious to everyone except the girl herself.

“I’m Saotome Rin, first year in the equestrian club. Sorry for tracking mud through your gym by the way. This guy in my homeroom confessed to me after club and told me he is my soulmate, which I know he isn’t as our necklaces look nothing alike, and when I told him I couldn’t accept his confession because i didn’t know him and I’d never even talked to him, he just flipped and got violent all of a sudden. He threw me at the wall and kept hitting me, so I kicked him in the shins and ran. Your gym was the closest building so I ran in here hoping I could find a scary volleyball player to ward him off or something but no one was out there so I ran in here. I didn’t even think about it so I’m really sorry for just barging in here” The small girl spoke rather quickly as she swiped the blood falling from her mouth off. She then turned her gaze up to Tendou and pulled a face “so uh this is gonna sound really odd. But are you one of those guys that gets all weird about their... Soulmate?” The venom in her voice shocked the boys, as her personality did a 180 from the timid girl she had been until now.

Tendou however, doubled over laughing at the look of disgust on her face, it was the same look Ushijima gave when he found a worm eating his plants. “Ah guessing your also not into the whole soulmate thing huh blondie? And no I already have the perfect soulmate” the small girl grinned at him and nodded quickly. Thank whatever god was watching over her! Her soulmate wasn’t a creep who was going to force her into the bond. She would way rather choose her own life partner than have someone she’s know five minutes confess their undying love because a necklace said they were a match.

The boys all seemed a little confused at the exchange. Why were they talking about soulmates all of a sudden? Was she interested in the redhead? His girlfriend wouldn’t like that. Rin laughed at this boys before speaking again “My soulmate necklace is the same as tendou’s, I saw it when he helped me up off the floor. But as you can tell I don’t really believe it, after all how could an inanimate object possibly know who would be the best partner for me?” The boys all seemed to understand as they all stated muttering agreements at her words. Once again the girl found her eyes drawn to the small ravenette boy who sat next to her, he had been rather quiet the whole time but now he was looking at her with thinly veiled wonder. She immediately knew he had let his soulmate go, the ones that did always had a strange vibe around them.

“So cutie who brought me the tissues, Tendou said your name is goshiki right?” The question startled the boy who sat there for a moment opening and closing his mouth like a fish before seemingly finding the words that had been trapped in his throat at her sudden attention. “I’m Goshiki Tsutomu, I’m also a first year like you” Rin smiles widely at the cute boy as she put her hand on his shoulder.

“Well Goshiki, I’m technically still hiding from that creep earlier, so wanna wall me home so I’m safe?” The rest of the team looked between the two first years with sly grins as Goshiki was once again startled into silence at the pretty blondes attention. Tendou, ever the caring upperclassman, gave Goshiki a thump on the back as he laughed “Cmon man, this little cutie pretty much begged you to take her home and she’s looking at you like your the best thing she’s ever seen. Get out of your stupor and take her home, don’t forget to get her number aswell” he whispered to the boy before shoving the two out of the locker room and into the gym.

The rather long walk back to Rin’s house was filled with chatter as the two first years immediately got on. The two spoke about their respective sports and Goshiki tried to hide his amazement as the girl told him about the time she had a fall during her competition but still got back on and managed to snatch second place, all with a broken arm. In return told her about the time he accidentally sent a spike right into Tendou’s face and had to run a hundred laps as punishment. They were both a little sad when they finally reached the blonde’s house and they both stood outside staring at each other for a minute before either of them moved. “Give me your phone, I’ll put my number in it? I’d defiantly like to go out for a movie or something if you’d like.” The girl said confidently. The ravenette eyes widened and he grinned and nodded while handing her his phone. As she gave it back she quickly gave him a peck on the cheek and said her thanks again before disappearing into her house. Goshiki stood stock still for a minute before touching his cheek and grinning once more, he couldn’t wait to see the blonde girl again.

[quillreflections]

Title: Stadium Arcadium

Chapter: 4

Series: Yugioh Zexal

Pairing: Kite/reader

Stranger things have happened, both before and after noon.

"Stay close to me, Hart." Kite squeezed his little brother's hand as you all approached an intersection. When the pair halted, waiting for the crosswalk light to change, Hart reached out to you too; Kite scoffed quietly as you took Hart's tiny hand and smiled down at him.

"Is there anything else you want to do while we're out, Hart?" You casually swung your joined hands, the smile on your face growing as you noticed Kite gritting his teeth. Was he jealous-?

Just across the street was a small park- a spot of natural greenery among Heartland's unnatural fluorescence. You'd intended to walk past it, but something caught Hart's eye, and he slowed.

"I want. . . ice cream." He licked his lips as he stared off into the distance; still holding his hand, you crouched to follow his gaze. Kite remained towering over you both.

Set up near the park's decorative water fountain was a colorful pastel cart, the uniformed man scooping out sweets for a cheery family. You're suddenly overtly aware of the sun beating down on your neck; sweat, dripping down your back, making your shirt stick to your skin. You spared a glance at Kite- despite being dressed in his long black coat, he seemed completely unaffected by the weather, even smirking at your flushed face. Can you make a face at him without getting fired-?

"Anything you want, Hart." Kite's voice is surprisingly gentle as he leads his brother further into the park. You let go of Hart's hand, trailing behind the pair of boys a little ways; although this entire outing was your idea, you almost felt like a third wheel, imposing on a family time they never got to have.

Not wanting to overstay your welcome, you wandered off to one of the brightly-colored benches  across from the fountain. It had been a long day already.

Hart had to stretch up on the tips of his toes to see the full spectrum of flavors in the cart. Kite couldn't help but smile at the serious look on his brother's face. Hart glanced over his shoulder to ask your opinion; he frowned a bit deeper when he noticed you weren't with them, but turned back to his decision-making when Kite tugged on his hand.

You looked up from your d-pad when shadows fell over the screen; although Hart's golden eyes are dull, he mimics a smile as he holds out a hand, offering you an ice cream cone. "We didn't know what flavor you'd want," he mutters, hoisting himself onto the bench next to you, "so we just got vanilla. . ."

"Well, thank you! That's so sweet!" You smile back at the two boys. Kite looks away from you.

"If you make a big deal of it, I'm taking it outta your next paycheck."

"Yessir, Mr. Tenjo."

Kite crouched down in front of Hart, who was digging into his ice cream as carefully as possible to avoid spilling any. "We've done a lot today, Hart; have you had fun?"

Hart just nods thoughtfully. His free hand finds its way to yours, resting on the bench- a flash of frustration crosses Kite's face, but he buries it quickly. Hart bites into his waffle cone. You watch the brothers carefully; while you certainly hadn't expected either of them to make a full 180, seeing them interact all day provided at least some insight into their dynamic and personalities. Kite ran aggressively hot-and-cold, only ever smiling at his brother; Hart was clearly trying his best to mimic the things he'd seen other children doing, and now you were sure today was his first time outside in quite awhile.

You finish your ice cream as the sun begins setting. Kite pulls himself back up to his full height, offering his hand to his brother. "Time to get going home, Hart."

The smaller boy nods and reaches out- but then he pauses, open hand hovering, and starts looking around blankly. The atmosphere seems to deflate instantly. Something hangs in the air, suffocating, sending anxiety pulsing through you in waves. Kite tenses, snatching Hart's hand and guiding his brother closer to you. He stares down at you with his eyes steeling over.

"Take him home, now." His voice is fierce, the air practically crackling around him. You nod and grab his brother's hand, trying to smile at Hart, who is clearly unnerved.

"Heya, let's go back to the tower, kiddo! You wanna go through all my cards when we get back?" You try to keep him engaged as you pull him along  but you do spare one more glance at Kite, who is shadowed in the setting sun.

As soon as you and his brother are out of sight, Kite begins quietly stepping further into the park, hand resting on his deck box. The aura in the air is unmistakable. A shadow falls over his vision in the dying light; he looks up just as Orbital 7 transforms and drops out of the sky, landing awkwardly on the stone pathway. "Master Kite, a Number!"

"I know," Kite hissed. "Keep your voice down. Do you have a location?" Orbital whirs for a moment as he pulls up a map; Kite studies the projection closely, memorizing the location, and then takes off at a sprint. It's so nearby, using Orbital for transport would be a waste.

He slows as he rounds the corner into the gardens. A cacophony of voices is echoing over the decorative hedges, one clearly more manic than the others as the sounds of a duel come to a close. Kite nods at his robotic assistant. "Do it now, Orbital."

☆☆☆☆☆

You kept a tight grip on Hart as you pulled him back to the crosswalk. He was incredibly quiet; hopefully that strange feeling hadn't negated the fun day you'd had together. "So, Hart, what was your favorite part of today?"

He peers up at you. "I liked seeing all those dogs." His eyes widen at the memory. "They were really smart, watching them do tricks was cute."

You giggle too. "You're right! Have you and your brother ever owned a pet-?"

The world around you falters. A wave of electricity seems to slam into you, almost knocking you off your feet- you manage to catch yourself as you stumble, turning to catch Hart as he falls forward too.

"What- what was that, [Name]?!" The young boy wraps his arms around you tightly. You look around for the source of the impulse, only for a sense of dread to settle in the pit of your stomach.

Birds hover in midair. Traffic has completely frozen in the middle of the intersection. Pedestrians, frozen in mid-stride, coats and scarves flowing in a wind that wasn't there. The world was soundless.

You pull yourself from Hart's grasp. A rush of adrenaline pours into your veins. Something is horribly wrong. Hart presses himself up against you, curling his fingers through your belt loop, trembling. "I want my brother," he whispers, although it may as well be a shout into the world's silence.

"We need to get back to Kite," you agreed. Hart nods solemnly, taking your hand again as you turn back to the park. The walk back is terrifying- your footsteps on the pavement are the only sound for what seems like miles. When you step back through the gates, Kite is nowhere to be seen, and your stomach sinks further.

"Hart," you kneel down to be on his level, "I want to to stay right here, okay? I'm going to find your brother."

The little boy nods hesitantly. You watch him take a seat on the same bench you'd occupied earlier, and then you're off through the tall grass towards the hedge gardens in the distance.

The sunset had frozen in the sky, so you're delving into shadows as you step into the hedges. This is the only possible place Kite could've gotten to- god, what was going on? The crunching of grass and twigs under your foot is almost deafening. Your skin seems to tingle out of anxiety.

"Are you ready to repent?"

Kite's voice cuts through the silence, startling you, but also flooding you with a sense of relief. You round the corner into a small clearing in the middle of the hedge maze- just in time to see Kite delve his hands into a man's chest, withdrawing an orb of light that shatters in his grip.

Kite releases the man, who crumples to th ground, visibly aging several decades; his dark hair grayed instantly, his eyes growing dim as he collapsed.

You take a step backwards. "Mr. Tenjo-?!"

Kite and Orbital both whirl on you. "I told you to get back to the tower," Kite snarls. He strides closer, driving you back several steps. "Where's my brother, you're supposed to be watching him-"

You stumble backwards into the hedges. Your gaze jumped from the intense man in front of you to the unconscious man behind him.

"H-Hart is. . ." you almost winced at how your voice shook, "Hart is okay, he's back by the fountain. Something weird happened and we were worried about you." Shaking, you meet his stormy eyes. "What the hell was that, Mr. Tenjo?!"

Kite scoffs and turns to march back through the hedge path, Orbital rolling along with him, twisting his robotic self to stare. "You. . ." Kite doesn't look back at you. "Time has been distorted. You shouldn't be able to move so freely."

You blink up at him, not really understanding what that's supposed to mean- but with the thunderstorm practically brewing around him, now is definitely not the time to ask.

Hart looks up quickly as you step out of the hedges. His eyes widen; he scrambles off the bench and sprints over, wrapping his arms around his brother as Kite drops to his knees with open arms. "Brother! I was worried- I'm glad [Name] brought you back. . ."

Kite's grip instinctually tightened as he glared up at you. At his side, Orbital mutters something and lets off a small electric shock. Suddenly, the world fades back in; the flapping of wings as birds resume their flights, the roar of traffic and voices from beyond the park's fence. You looked away from Kite's intense stare, and he just squeezed his brother once more.

"Time to go, Hart."

☆☆☆☆☆

Understandably, you'd been sent home early. Hart had seemed mildly worried when Kite coldly dismissed you; you'd passed Dextra on the way out of the tower, and she'd given you a sympathetic look. You just held your head high, confident you'd done nothing wrong.

From the top of the tower, Kite watched you walk through the colorful streets, lit up by streetlamps fighting off the moonlight. A reflection in the window caught his eye; Hart, stumbling into the room, quietly chewing on the remains of the sandwich his brother had haphazardly thrown together.

"Why did she leave?" His voice was barely a whisper as he joined his brother in watching your retreating form.

Kite knelt down and spoke gently. "Her job is to take care of you- she left you alone, so she got in trouble."

Hart frowned, pressing his jelly-stained hands to the glass. "I'm not helpless. I wanted her to find you." He glances up at Kite's reflection out of the corner of his eye. "[Name] makes better sandwiches than you do. Will she be back?"

Kite had to look away from his brother's pleading eyes. Mr. Heartland's orders echoed in his mind, joined by one reverberating question. How had she done that? "Probably. We're supposed to keep her around for awhile."

"Supposed to? Does that mean you didn't want her?" Hart muses quietly, tracing constellations in the window, leaving streaks of jam on the glass. Kite didn't answer.

☆☆☆☆☆

The hospital elevator isn't nearly as smooth or quiet as those in the tower. You're sure you can feel every jolt and rattle in your bones. When the doors slide open, you step out into the clinically white hallway, nodding acknowledgement at the familiar women at the nurses station.

Your mother's room is in the corner of the floor. Although it's really not very late, the lights are out when you open the door; given that Heartland is keen on aesthetics- and the mayor himself seems personally apologetic about your family- this room has massive windows overlooking the city. The light from below work wonders that hospital lights never could.

". . . heya, Mama." You whisper as you approach the lone bed in the middle of the room.

Your mother lay there; pale, emaciated, bandaged, strung up to various machines like a fly caught in a spider's web. The steady beeps of her heart monitor are the only response to your voice. Looking at her makes your stomach churn- you step over to the window instead, your gaze flickering between your mother's reflection and Heartland tower in the distance.

The city below you almost feels alive. The tower itself is lit up like a miracle, rising in front of the moon like a proud rival, finally gaining the advantage. The cable cars in the distance have lights that blink in intervals. Further away is the familiar Ferris wheel that dominates the center of the ever-present carnival, the lights flashing in patterns and never repeating. Beyond all of that, though- the walls that separated you from everyone else loomed, reminding you that you don't belong this deep in the city. It's difficult to believe that any of today's events could happen in such an electric city like this.

"I'm working for Heartland now too, Mama. Did you ever know about the family living in the tower-? I was hired to watch the youngest kid." A memory of Hart writhing in pain flashes through your mind; you shut your eyes tightly and turn your back to the window, leaning against the glass.

"Mama. . ." You bite your lip. "If you ever. . . learned something that you don't know what to do with. How would you handle-?" You just watch her limp form, knowing that the years of turning to her for advice are far behind you.

At some point as the night wears on, you checked your d-pad for the time; since you'd stormed out of the tower, you'd received a message from the mayor himself, suggesting you take the following day off and resume work after that.

Anxiety gnawed at you, settling heavily in your stomach as you stepped into the hallway, gently closing your mother's door behind you. Since visiting hours are coming to an end, the ward is practically empty- still, you somehow find yourself turning the corner and slamming headfirst into someone with a thud. You both stumble backwards.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?!" You reach out to steady the boy, who is grimacing and rubbing where your forehead had smacked into his collarbone.

"You don't look like you'd be so hardheaded," he mutters. He brushes his purple hair aside and tugs down his shirt collar, making sure he isn't bruising, and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"If you can be a smartass, you're fine." You cross your arms and look him up and down as he snickers.

The visitor's pass hanging around his neck is reminiscent of your own; the fading colors and chipped plastic betraying the fact that it was old and well-used. Even though he was playfully sneering down at you, there were bags under his deep blue eyes, and his general aura is one of exhaustion. You can feel your indignation melting away into solidarity.

"Hey. Whatever you're going through, best wishes."

His smarmy grin fades as he catches sight of your own personal visiting pass. His harsh face softens the tiniest bit. ". . . same to you."

He brushes past you, and for some reason you can't explain, you're compelled to watch him down the sterile hallway. His hair and clothing- dark shades of purples and grays- make him look like a wandering soul manifested amongst the stark white. He disappears into the room next to your mother's; once he was out of sight, you resume your journey to the elevator, uncomfortably aware that your tragedy isn't the only one.

[,,gentle reminder that I'm relegated to mobile for the foreseeable future, in addition to schoolwork and bad family leaving me with little safe time, so I apologize for any typos or general awkwardness]