#and it’s 4 a.m again why do I do this to myself

[mercvry-glow]

It's never over

parings. jack abbot x reader

summary. after a fight with jack, you spend the rest of your night clubbing with some friends. unfortunately that choice lands you into your partners er.

warnings. implied age gap (jack late 40s, reader late 20s/early 30s), established relationship, jack and reader fight, reader gets drugged and creeped on, hospital setting, medical emergencies, reader is okay tho, accurate as possible medical talk, soft!jack eventually, angst and hurt/comfort, let me know if there's anything else!

notes. I can't believe this is my longest fic and I don't like it 😭 I do love them though, and I love the angst, I just think this wasn't my strongest so we'll see how I feel when I get some more of yall's opinions. as always any and all feedback is appreciated!

wc. 4100+

You were just finishing your makeup when you heard the shower turn off.

It was a quiet kind of hope that filled your chest—small and delicate, but real. It had been weeks since the two of you had a night off together. Back-to-back night shifts, emergency call-ins, 4 a.m. arguments whispered in the dark… it had all blurred into something numb. Something too heavy.

But tonight?

Tonight was supposed to be the reset button.

You stepped out of the bathroom, smoothing your dress down with your hands, a nervous flutter in your stomach. Something soft played from the speaker on your nightstand. The perfume you wore on your first date still lingered in the air.

Then you saw it.

Black scrubs. His badge clipped to the collar. Go-bag on the floor.

You froze.

Jack stepped into the room, towel around his shoulders, running a hand through damp curls. He paused the second he saw your face.

“Babe—”

“No,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please don’t say it, you didn’t…”

He glanced at the scrubs like he wished they’d disappear. “Shen called when you were in the shower. They’re short. Real short. Two nurses out and a doctor is MIA—he’s drowning.”

You blinked. “And you said yes.”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “He sounded desperate. I figured you’d—”

“You figured I’d be fine,” you cut in, hurt creeping into your voice. “Because it’s always me who has to make the compromise.”

“It’s one shift,” he said, already tugging on his top.

“It’s never just one,” you snapped, then caught yourself, hands tightening at your sides. “I got off three hours ago, Jack. I’ve been dragging myself through twelve-hour nights, sometimes more just like you. And the one time we both actually had a night off…”

He looked away. “This isn’t about us.”

“Isn’t it?” you said, your voice cracking. “Because it feels like it is.”

Silence pressed in between you.

“I get it,” you added. “I know what it’s like when the unit’s falling apart. I know what it’s like to be needed, to be the one that says yes every time. But God, Jack… when do I get to be your emergency?”

He stiffened.

“You think I want to do this?” he snapped suddenly. “You think I don’t feel it too? That I don’t want to just stay here, take you to dinner, act like our lives aren’t chaos 24/7?”

“Then why don't you?” you said, voice breaking. “Why is it always someone else who gets the best of you?”

He looked at you then, eyes tired, voice bitter. “Because they need me. You wouldn’t get it.”

Your heart stopped.

“What did you just say to me?”

He hesitated—too long. “I didn’t mean it like that—”

“No. Say it again,” you said, stepping back. “Say I don’t get it, Jack.”

Jack sighed, frustrated. “You know what I mean. You’re not—”

“Not what?” you snapped. “Not enough? Not capable of understanding? I work the same damn shifts as you do. I patch up the same wounds, hold the same dying hands—don’t you dare act like I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he muttered, but it was already too late.

You grabbed your bag, throat thick with hurt. “You want to play doctor, Jack? Fine. Go save Pittsburgh. But don’t expect me to sit here and wait again for whatever’s left of you after.”

He moved toward you, but you stepped around him, heart pounding in your chest.

“I gave you tonight,” you whispered at the door. “And you gave it away.”

And then you left—heels in your hand, dress still clinging to hope, the soft click of the door the only sound between you.

Things didn’t get much better after you left. 

The music thumped in your chest, the bass vibrating through the soles of your feet. It was loud. Too loud. But that was the point, right?

After the fight, after the disappointment and the sting of Jack’s words, you just needed something different. Something that would make you forget for a little while. So, when Marina and Kat suggested hitting the club, you agreed. You’d always enjoyed the energy, the people, the feeling of being free, even if just for a night.

So now you found yourself in a packed, dark club with flashing lights and bodies grinding against each other on the dance floor. You didn’t know exactly why you were here, but the thought of being home alone, stewing in anger and confusion, was too much to handle.

The girls were already lost in the crowd, their laughter cutting through the music as they grabbed drinks from the bar. You followed, trying to shake off the ache in your chest, the one that kept whispering that Jack should’ve been out with you, not  at work.

“Another round?” Kat asked, leaning close enough for you to hear over the beat.

You nodded, your eyes scanning the bar area, the chaos of the club almost soothing in its madness. The atmosphere was a welcome distraction, even though it wasn’t the night you’d planned. You hadn’t expected to feel so… hollow. Jack’s absence was like a weight pressing against your chest, and you were trying to ignore it. Trying to not think about how your plans had been shattered, how this whole night had been supposed to be different.

You made your way toward the bar, needing a moment of quiet, a break from the noise, when a guy approached. He was dressed in a tight shirt that seemed to shimmer under the club lights, his hair perfectly styled. He smiled at you, one that was too eager, almost practiced.

“Hey, I couldn’t help but notice you,” he said, leaning in just a bit too close. “I’m Alex. And you—wow. You look incredible.”

You forced a smile, taking a step back instinctively. “Thanks,” you said, trying to keep the interaction polite, your voice still a little stiff. “I’m just here with some friends.”

His smile didn’t falter. “I can tell, I just had to come over. I mean, with a woman like you, how could I not?”

You glanced around, hoping to spot either Marina or Kat, but the crowd was thick and you were feeling boxed in. “I’m not really looking for company,” you said, hoping that would be enough.

He didn’t take the hint. Instead, his hand moved closer to your arm, brushing against the bare skin of your shoulder.

“You sure? I’m just trying to have a good time, and you seem like you’re someone who knows how to enjoy herself,” he said, his voice dropping lower, almost a whisper. A chill ran down your spine. You weren’t sure if it was the way he said it or just how off his energy felt, but it made your stomach turn.

“I said no, thank you,” you said, trying to sound firm, but your words barely made it through the noise of the music.

He didn’t back off, though. His dark eyes raked over you like he was trying to figure you out, like you were some new prize to be won. “Come on, what’s the harm in just one drink? One dance?” He stepped in closer, his breath warm on your neck.

You shook your head, feeling the walls close in. Your palms were starting to get clammy, the tightness in your chest spreading. “I’m not interested,” you repeated, your voice sharper this time, but his grip on your arm tightened, just a little.

“Don’t be like that,” he said, his fingers brushing the strap of your dress. “You know you want to have some fun.”

That was it. The polite smile you’d been forcing finally slipped away. You wrenched your arm free from his grip, your voice loud and clear now.

“I said no,” you snapped, the force of your words cutting through the loud music.

His eyes flashed, surprised at your sudden change in tone, but then he just scoffed. “Fine, whatever,” he muttered, his expression turning into a sneer. “Guess I misread you.”

You didn’t even wait for him to finish walking away. You turned sharply, heart pounding in your chest, as you made your way back toward the dance floor. The excitement of the club had completely evaporated, replaced with the taste of bitterness and frustration.

You made your way back toward the dance floor, heart still racing, the heat of the club suddenly feeling suffocating. The beat of the music had lost its pull on you, replaced by the sting of unwanted attention and the frustration of a night gone wrong. You barely noticed the way the crowd shifted, how people pressed against you as you walked through them, each of them just another stranger in your path. You tried to shake the unease away, but it lingered like a shadow.

Marina and Kat, the only two familiar faces in this chaotic scene, were still at the bar, but you couldn’t muster the energy to go back to them just yet. You needed a moment alone, even if that meant getting lost in the crowd. You found a quiet corner at the edge of the room, trying to collect your thoughts, breathing in the air that smelled of alcohol and sweat, but it did little to calm the storm in your chest.

The drink you’d had earlier—a rum and coke—was still sitting in your hand. You’d been nursing it for most of the night, the ice now long melted, the liquid a watered-down version of what it had been when you first grabbed it at the bar. It wasn’t your favorite, but you didn’t mind. You hadn’t been focused on the drink anyway, just trying to keep the edges of your frustration from seeping through.

But now, as you took another sip, something felt off. Your stomach tightened, but not in the way it usually did after too much alcohol. It was deeper, almost hollow, like there was something foreign inside you. You set the drink down on the nearest table, trying to ignore the growing sense of unease gnawing at the back of your mind.

Your vision started to blur, the flashing lights of the club becoming a chaotic swirl of neon. The music, once a vibrant pulse beneath your skin, now felt distant—like you were hearing it from underwater. The pressure in your head built an oppressive weight that made it hard to think clearly. You stumbled slightly, your legs growing heavy, and it took all your effort just to stay standing.

You glanced around for your friends, but the crowd had thickened, and the girls were nowhere to be seen. Panic crept up your spine. You needed them. You needed someone to help. But the room felt like it was spinning now, faster and faster, and your body wasn’t cooperating with you anymore.

"Hey, are you okay?" A voice cut through the fog in your mind, but you couldn’t place where it came from. You tried to focus, to find the person speaking, but your vision darkened again, everything going black at the edges.

You blinked, trying to fight off the overwhelming dizziness, but it was useless. The world around you tilted, and the last thing you remembered was sinking to your knees, the floor rushing up to meet you.

The ER was chaotic as always.

Monitors beeped in staccato rhythms, stretchers lined the halls, and the air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and the metallic tang of adrenaline. Jack hadn’t stopped moving since he walked in, not even long enough to get a proper cup of coffee. His scrubs still clung to his damp skin from the rushed post-shower change, and his muscles ached from tension he hadn’t had time to notice until now.

A code had just cleared. He stood in the corner of north three, charting with one hand, the other gripping a barely-sipped paper cup of coffee that had long gone cold. The flicker of a headache gnawed behind his eyes.

He shouldn’t be here.

His mind kept drifting—back to the house, to the way you looked in that dress, to the way your voice cracked when you said “when do I get to be your emergency?”

 God, that had hit harder than he’d let on.

And then he’d said the wrong thing—“You wouldn’t get it.” The words kept echoing back in his ears like a cruel joke. You did get it. Maybe more than anyone ever had.

He hadn’t checked his phone since you left. Couldn’t bring himself to. If you texted, he’d crumble. If you didn’t… Well, that was somehow worse.

“Dr. Abbot!”

Jack snapped out of it at the sound of John’s voice shouting down the hallway. He turned toward him, brows knitting together. Shen was already halfway across the ED, panting slightly, eyes wide.

“What is it?” Jack asked, already moving toward him.

“Overdose. Young woman—unknown age, female. Brought in from the strip district—some club off Penn. Unconscious on arrival, GCS dropped to six en route.”

Jack's jaw tightened. “ETA?”

“They just pulled up.”

Jack tossed his chart aside and strode toward the ambulance bay without another word, adrenaline already kicking in.

Shen jogged beside him. “Paramedics think her drink was spiked—GHB, maybe? Said she started seizing before they got her out of the club. Friends couldn’t find her at first—she was alone when they found her on the floor.”

Something twisted in Jack’s gut. He didn’t know why. Just a flicker of unease, a sick chill climbing up his spine.

The ambulance bay doors opened with a mechanical hiss. The flashing red lights reflected off the glass like warning signals in his head.

He stepped outside, heart thudding.

And then he saw her.

Or You.

Unconscious. Oxygen mask strapped to your still pretty face. IVs in both arms. Your dress—the dress you had bought—bunched awkwardly around your hips. One heel missing. A smudge of mascara on your cheek like a cruel reminder of what tonight was supposed to be.

The paramedic was shouting something, but Jack didn’t hear it. His vision tunneled. His world narrowed to just you—still, and small on the gurney.

“No,” Jack whispered, stepping forward, his breath catching in his throat. “No, no, no—”

He pushed through the medic, grabbing onto the rail of the stretcher.

“What happened?” he barked. His voice was hoarse, shaking.

“GHB suspected. Found alone. Low responsiveness. HR is unstable. She’s seizing on and off—”

Jack was already moving, wheeling you into trauma bay one. “Get Narcan ready just in case. Push fluids. Get me labs, tox screen, full workup. Page neuro for consult—now.”

He didn’t even care that his voice cracked. Didn’t care that every nurse and medic in that hallway was staring at him like he’d lost it.

Because he had.

You were his emergency now, and he was terrified he might be too late.

The doors slammed open with a bang as Jack wheeled you inside, every step fueled by sheer panic and clinical precision. His hands moved on autopilot, but his mind? His mind was screaming.

“She’s hypotensive,” a nurse called. “BP’s dropping—seventy over fifty.”

“Push fluids—hang a liter of LR, now. Get a second IV. 16-gauge if you can find a vein.”

Your head lolled to the side as the team lifted you onto the bed. Jack’s breath hitched.

“Jesus, she’s burning up,” he muttered, pressing his palm to your forehead. “Get her temp.”

“102.6,” Shen called.

“Possible serotonin syndrome or stimulant combo,” Jack said quickly. “Start cooling measures. Ice packs under the arms. Get a foley—need accurate output.”

A nurse moved to cut the dress from your body, but Jack put his hand out. “Don’t—” His voice cracked again. He paused, swallowed, forced the words out through gritted teeth. “Let me.”

No one argued. Everyone knew—this wasn’t just another patient, you were one of them, you were jack’s. His slightly trembling hands carefully unzipped the side of your dress, easing it off your shoulders and down. He fought to keep his face unreadable, but his throat felt raw, his stomach twisting into knots. The scent of your perfume—the one you wore on your first date—still lingered faintly in the air.

“Vitals?” he barked, refocusing as nurses applied leads to your chest.

“HR 122. O2’s eighty-nine but climbing. BP’s coming up a little.”

Jack leaned over you, brushing damp hair from your forehead. Your lashes fluttered, just barely. A flicker of awareness behind your lids.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered, not caring who heard. “Stay with me. I’m right here. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

You stirred faintly, a tiny groan slipping past your lips.

“Hey, hey—it’s me,” he said, brushing his knuckles gently along your cheek. “You’re in the ER. You’re safe now, alright? I got you.”

Your eyes opened a crack, glassy and unfocused. You blinked slowly, clearly struggling to process. And then—

“J…Jack?” you croaked, barely above a whisper.

He exhaled, choking on relief.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said quickly, squeezing your hand. “I’m right here. You’re gonna be fine, I promise.”

You blinked again, trying to sit up, but your body betrayed you. “What… happened?”

“You were drugged,” Jack said gently. “Spiked drink. Club downtown. Do you remember anything?”

You shook your head faintly, then winced as pain rolled through you. “I—he—there was this guy… he wouldn’t leave me alone…”

Jack’s jaw tightened. Fury flared behind his eyes, but he pushed it down.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured, brushing some hair out of  your face. “Don’t worry about that right now. You’re here. You’re safe.”

“Y-you were supposed to be at work,” you mumbled, confusion clouding your voice.

His heart cracked clean in half.

“I am. But they brought you in,” he whispered, gripping your hand tighter. “They brought you in… and everything else stopped.”

He didn’t realize his hands were shaking until your hand weakly squeezed his.And for the first time that night, Jack let himself fall apart—just a little. Because you were the emergency. And nothing else mattered now.

After an hour of working on you, Jack stood at the foot of your bed, hands braced on his hips, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest. Monitors beeped in steady rhythm. The IV pumped fluids into your system, and you were stable now—groggy but safe.

It had been the longest hour of his life..

He didn’t realize how tight his jaw had been until he stepped out of the trauma bay and let the door swing closed behind him. He needed a second. Just one.

But that’s when he saw them—Marina and Kat, hovering near the nurses' station down the hall like two ghosts.

They looked like hell. Club makeup smudged, heels in their hands, eyes wide and red-rimmed. They’d followed the ambulance but hadn’t pushed forward until now.

When Jack made eye contact with them, they froze. The hallway felt too quiet, the tension snapping taut.

He moved toward them with slow, deliberate steps. His face was unreadable—too calm to be safe.

“You two were with her.” His voice wasn’t angry, not exactly. But it carried the weight of someone barely holding it together. “So tell me what happened.”

Kat opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Marina stepped in instead, her voice small. “We didn’t know. Jack, we—we didn’t know. She just said she needed a minute and went to the bar. We were right there.”

“She was alone,” Jack said, his tone still deceptively even. “Long enough for some asshole to slip something in her drink.”

“We didn’t see anyone,” Kat said, her voice cracking. “We were watching her an-and then she was gone until someone screamed. She collapsed. We thought—Jesus, we thought she just had too much to drink, but she only bought one.”

Jack closed his eyes for a beat, dragging a hand over his face.

“She didn’t,” he muttered. “Tox screen lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree. Probably in that one drink she barely touched.”

Marina blinked, horrified. “She said it didn’t taste right. Said it was too sweet.”

“She was trying to be safe,” Jack said, his voice tightening. “Did everything right. Still ended up in my fucking ER, barely coherent.”

Neither of them had anything to say to that. Because what could you say?

“I should’ve been with her,” Jack added quietly, more to himself than to them. “We were supposed to have tonight. And I left.”

Marina stepped forward cautiously, soft as always. “She didn’t blame you, Jack. She didn’t even say your name like she was mad. She just—she was looking for you.”

That hit harder than it should’ve. Jack’s throat worked as he swallowed, glancing back at the trauma room door behind him.

“She’s sleeping now,” he said finally. “Out of the woods.”

“Can we… see her?” Kat asked gently.

Jack nodded. “Just be quiet. She might not wake up for a while.”

Marina hesitated, then touched Jack’s arm, tentative. “She loves you, you know that. Don’t let tonight be the thing that breaks you both.”

Jack didn’t answer, but something in his expression softened—just barely. The steel cracked for a second, showing the man underneath. The one who hadn’t left her side. The one who never would.

And then he stepped back toward the door, glancing once more at the monitor inside.

“Tell her I’m here,” he said. “When she wakes up…”

The soft beeping of the monitor was the first thing you heard. It was steady, rhythmic, almost comforting, but it felt like the sound was a distant echo, like you weren’t quite sure where it was coming from. Your eyes fluttered open, blurry at first, the room around you coming into focus slowly.

Your head throbbed with a dull ache, a tightness in your chest pulling at your breath. Something felt wrong—like the world had shifted just slightly, leaving you off-balance.

Then, the scent of antiseptic and faint, stale coffee mixed with the familiar one that had always been home to you: Jack.

Your eyes scanned the dimly lit room. There, sitting at your side, was Jack—his back to you as he slumped in a chair, his hand resting near yours on the bed. His posture was stiff, but there was something in the way his shoulders hung, the way his breath came a little too fast, that told you he wasn’t just tired.

He was worried.

You tried to speak, but your throat felt dry, raw. You croaked out a faint sound, and Jack snapped to attention, immediately leaning forward. His eyes met yours, and there it was—the instant relief, mixed with guilt, storming across his features.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice hoarse. “Hey, look at me. You’re okay.”

You tried to say something, but your voice wouldn’t cooperate. You croaked again, your hand weakly reaching for his.

Jack’s fingers tightened around yours, warm and steady. His thumb traced over the back of your hand as if to reassure both of you.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve been with you.”

You blinked, your mind sluggish as it pieced things together. You could barely remember what had happened. The night, the club, the man at the bar, the drink…The wave of nausea hit you, and you squeezed his hand harder. He immediately noticed.

“Take it easy,” he said, his free hand brushing a few stray hairs from your forehead. “You’ve been through a lot.”

It wasn’t just the physical toll—it was everything else. The confusion, the anger, the heartbreak.

“I… I didn’t…” You stopped, your throat closing up. The words didn’t come out easily, but Jack was right there, waiting patiently.

“You didn’t deserve this,” he said gently, like he could hear everything you couldn’t say. “I know. I should’ve done better. I should’ve been with you.”

You squeezed his hand again, the weight of his words and your own swirling in the space between you. The thought of him taking the blame—the one who had stayed behind, who had always put in the work—was almost too much.

And you didn’t have the strength to argue.

“You’re here,” you whispered finally, eyes barely open. “That’s all I need right now.”

Jack’s chest tightened at that, his eyes darkening as he bent closer, brushing his lips against your forehead.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. “I’ll never do that to you again.”

Your heart gave a flutter at his words, and though your head was still spinning, your chest felt just a little lighter.

A quiet comfort settled between you, something unspoken but deeply understood. For all the chaos of the world outside, for all the mistakes and regrets, you knew that together, you’d get through it.

And for tonight, that was enough.

mercvry-glow 2025

[confused-wanderer]

*Batfam setting an alarm for an important Wayne event right after taking down a cartel at 4 in the morning*

Alfred: Duke will be on the day shift bright and early, and Miss Brown and Miss Gordon have already left for their patrol. As there seems to be no other events scheduled for today, technically, what time would you like me to set the alarm for Master Bruce?

Bruce: Four-thirty seems reasonable enough Alfred.

Jason: Going soft in your old age Bruce? You never slept in after the sun was up, even on your free days.

Bruce: A.M.

Jason: .. what?

Bruce: I wake up at four thirty in the morning on my “days-off”, as the young folks call it

Stephanie *gagging* : Dear God why?

Bruce *confused*: Because I thought it seemed only apt for me to adapt to the newer lingo in order to better understand my children’s humour so I can make them laugh and can communicate better with them?

Jason: ..ignoring all that because I have no idea how to respond to it, she obviously meant the fucking alarm Bruce. Why are you setting it for the ass crack of dawn?

Bruce *even more confused*: Because..I want to?

Stephanie *whispering to Jason*: Is he on some new alien cocaine coffee I don’t know of? Cuz I might want a piece of that

Jason: No no no this has classic broody angst written all over it. Bruce I swear to fucking god you better not be back on your black parade shit I will blow myself up again. You can’t put me through that phase of yours so soon it’s worse than dying-

*Bruce becoming more and more self-conscious as Stephanie and Jason become more and more violently concerned*

Dick: Anyhoo.. what time do you want to wake up Timm-

Tim *barely on this plane of existence*: I don’t want to wake up.

[internetdaddy98]

The Ties That Bind Us - Chapter 29

Previous | Next [Series Masterlist] Content Warning: fluff, so much fluff

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The shift had started normally enough. One stroke alert and a septic shock patient, all before 11 a.m.—the usual brand of the department.

But somewhere between Room 4’s central line and the stack of admission paperwork waiting in the nurses’ station, you caught Michael’s hand beneath the counter.

He didn’t flinch. Just looked up from his notes and arched one brow, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“What are you doing?” he murmured, low enough that only she could hear.

You leaned closer, whispering, “Trying to check your pulse.”

Robby gave a soft laugh. “You’re about to raise it.”

You bumped his shoulder with hers. “That a promise?”

He turned his head just enough that their noses nearly touched, his voice still quiet. “You’re really playing with fire.”

Y/N’s lips curled. “You love fire.”

He was about to say something—something smug, probably—but then Dana materialized in front of you with a look of no-nonsense authority and a clipboard that could absolutely be used as a weapon.

“Doctors,” she greeted, already suspicious, “why do you look like two teenagers about to make out behind the bleachers?”

You yanked your hand back as Robby cleared his throat, suddenly very focused on his tablet.

“Just... reviewing labs,” he said.

Dana didn’t miss a beat. “Uh-huh. Review them farther apart.”

You tried—and failed—not to laugh.

“I swear to God,” Dana muttered, already halfway out of the hub. “You two better not be sneaking kisses in the on-call room. That place is sacred.”

“Define sacred,” you called after her.

Dana’s voice echoed down the hall. “Y/N Williams, don’t make me assign you to the rectal exam queue for the rest of the week!”

Robby bit his lip, shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter. “You heard her. No making out in the on-call room.”

You leaned closer again, grinning. “What about the stairwell?”

“That’s definitely haunted.”

“Elevator?”

“Too risky.”

“Supply closet?”

He gave you a sideways look. “Are you propositioning me?”

“I’m being thorough. It’s called logistics.”

“You’re a menace,” he whispered.

You smiled, then brushed the side of your hand against his one more time—barely a touch. Just enough.

And later, during rounds, you slipped him a Post-it in the middle of a coffee cup.

"Break room. Five minutes. No witnesses."

His head snapped up. You winked over your shoulder as you walked off.

You were halfway through your coffee when the door clicked open and Robby slipped inside, looking like he’d just committed tax fraud.

“You realize Dana is going to hunt us for sport if she comes in”

“No, she won’t.”

“So why are we doing this?”

You shrugged, stepping close. “Because you look really good in those scrubs and I’m trying to motivate myself to survive the next eight hours.”

“Glad to be of service.”

He leaned down, finally catching your mouth with his in a kiss that was warm and brief and almost too sweet for how much you both wanted more.

And then—

“AHEM.”

Dana stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

You jolted back like you’d been electrocuted. Robby immediately picked up the nearest coffee mug and pretended he’d been deeply invested in the art of stirring it.

Dana stared at them both, expression unreadable. 

“I’m not mad.”

You blinked. “You’re not?”

Dana held up one finger. “But if I catch you two making out again while the residents are elbow-deep in a GI bleed with no backup, I will personally assign you to rectal exams until the end of time.”

Robby coughed. “Understood.”

“And use a damn timer,” Dana added as she turned away. “Five-second kisses or less. No exceptions.”

As the door closed again, you turned to Robby, eyes wide.

“She just gave us a five-second rule.”

He smiled, stepped closer again, and kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Better make ‘em count.”

—-------------------------------------------

It was almost 10 p.m. by the time they got home.

You kicked off your shoes at the door with a groan, dropped your bag somewhere in the hallway, and immediately beelined it for the couch. Robby followed, slightly more graceful, if only because he hadn’t spent the last six hours dodging ICU transfers and reminding a first-year resident not to use the defibrillator as a coat rack.

“Are you alive?” he asked, dropping the keys into the dish.

You made a noise that sounded vaguely like “yes,” but mostly like “no.”

He smiled and walked into the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie.

“You promised me pasta,” you called from the couch.

“I did. And I’m delivering.” He reached for a pan. “Unless you want cereal.”

“I want carbs,” you mumbled into a throw pillow. “I want sauce. I want garlic so strong it violates hospital policy.”

He laughed, grabbing ingredients. “Coming right up.”

By the time you’d changed into one of his old shirts and flopped back onto the couch, the apartment was filled with the warm scent of garlic and tomato and the quiet hum of music from the record player. You watched him from the kitchen island, brow furrowed in concentration, stirring sauce like it was a delicate surgery.

You leaned against the counter, soft smile playing at your lips.

“You know,” you said quietly, “I could get used to this.”

He glanced at you, a little flushed from the stove heat, eyes warm. “Used to what?”

“This. You. Coming home with me. You cooking for me.”

Robby set the spoon down slowly, turning toward her. His expression shifted, softened.

“I could get used to it too.”

You swallowed, the air suddenly thicker than it had been a second ago.

“I mean,” you said, a little too fast, “we already act like an old married couple.”

He stepped closer, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Except you steal all the covers.”

“You run the shower too hot.”

“You drink half my coffee and then forget where you left it.”

You grinned. “You hum Springsteen in your sleep.”

There was a pause.

They were standing a foot apart now. Close enough for you to count the little lines at the corners of his eyes. Close enough for him to reach out and tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“I—” he started.

“I think—” she said at the same time.

They both laughed. Nervous. Breathless.

“You first,” he said, voice softer.

You bit her lip. “I think I—”

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The smoke alarm shrieked.

“Shit!”

Robby spun back to the stove. Smoke billowed from the pan like a scene from a disaster film.

You lunged for the window, throwing it open as Robby yanked the pan off the burner and cursed under his breath. The sauce was scorched to the bottom. The smell of burnt garlic filled the room like a punch to the face.

You waved a dish towel at the ceiling while he fanned the alarm with a cutting board.

“You were supposed to watch the sauce!” you yelled, laughing.

“I was busy trying to say I love you!”

The alarm finally went silent.

You both froze.

Your eyes widened.

His ears turned red.

There was a beat of silence.

“Was that—” you asked.

“Yes,” Robby said, setting the cutting board down. “Yes, I did just say that.”

You blinked at him. “You love me.”

He nodded once, nervous but steady. “Yeah.”

You stared at him, something delicate and stunned blooming behind your ribs.

“Well,” you said, stepping closer and poking his chest lightly, “I was about to say it first, but somebody burned dinner.”

Robby exhaled a laugh, caught between relief and affection and the residual stress of almost starting a kitchen fire.

“I love you,” you said, for real this time, softer. “Just so we’re clear.”

He smiled then—wide and wrecked and so full of heart it made your chest ache.

They stood there in the smoky kitchen, surrounded by the smell of ruined marinara, and kissed like it was the only thing keeping them upright.

Later, they ate slightly burnt pasta with way too much parmesan and curled up on the couch, tangled under the same blanket, as a rerun played in the background.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was them.

And that was enough.

[sacrednova]

Drive me home | Simon "Ghost" Riley | 4

fem!reader | In this story, a young woman mistakenly texts Simon "Ghost" Riley, thinking he's her Uber driver after a wild night out. Despite his gruff, reserved nature, Simon shows up. Contains fake screenshots with texts messages and calls!!!! Start reading from the beginning: Part 1 | Part 5 --->

Simon was on his way. The same mysterious, masked man who’d ghosted her texts and made her heart race for weeks was now on his way to pick her up. She clutched her phone, trying to keep calm as her friends, despite barely standing, noticed her sudden panic.

“What’s wrong with you?” Lottie asked, steadying herself by holding onto her arm. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Her eyes darted away as she tried to brush it off. “Uh, it’s nothing. Just… kind of a weird story,” she muttered.

“Oh, hell no,” Alexa cut in, her eyes bright with alcohol and intrigue. “Out with it.”

With a sigh and a helpless shrug, she finally spilled the story, trying to keep her voice steady. “Remember last month? When I said I got a weird Uber ride?”

“Yeah, yeah, with the mask guy,” Lottie chimed in, barely containing a giggle. “Wait—that’s him?!”

“Uh… yeah,” she admitted, cheeks burning. “And when I tried to text him ‘hello’ like a week later, he just… never answered.”

“Girl, and you still have him in your contacts? Under ‘Simon personal uber’?” Alexa teased, snickering.

Her cheeks flushed. “Look, it was just an inside joke with myself! I didn’t think I’d ever need to actually call him again!”

Just then, a truck pulled up to the curb, headlights cutting through the dark street. She glanced over, her stomach doing a flip as she recognized it instantly. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

Lottie and Alexa, their grins wide and very tipsy, leaned close. “That’s him?” Lottie whispered, her voice barely containing her glee.

She nodded, feeling like her heart was about to launch out of her chest. “Yep… that’s him.”

Her friends dissolved into giggles, making absolutely no effort to hide it. Alexa poked her side and whispered, “You know, if you’re this flustered already, maybe you should just go for it. I mean, the masked Uber thing is kinda… hot?”

She shot her a glare, her cheeks heating even more. “Oh, my God, shut up!”

As Simon stepped out of his truck, she swallowed hard, wondering if the ground could just swallow her whole instead.

The universe was out to humiliate her, no doubt. Because instead of swallowing her whole, it had spat her out and stomped on her. There he was, standing tall and unreadable under the streetlight—a face mask covering his mouth, a black cap shadowing his eyes, and… a military uniform.

So that’s why he was awake at 5 a.m., she thought, her mind racing. Of course, he’s military. Everything about his stone-cold demeanor made perfect sense now.

“Oh, so you like soldiers now?” Lottie teased, not bothering to whisper.

Her heart dropped as she looked up and met his gaze. His stare was intense, focused directly on her like she was the only person there. And he’d definitely heard Lottie.

“Oh my god, shut up,” she hissed, trying to look anywhere but at him.

Millie, still a giggling mess, squinted up at him and muttered, “Uwber?”

Without missing a beat, Simon looked back down at her and answered, “Apparently.” His tone was deadpan, and she swore she caught a flicker of amusement in his eyes behind the mask.

And that was all he said. A quiet, towering presence, letting the silence stretch uncomfortably, all while his gaze stayed locked on her.

God, why was that so hot?

The next thing she knew, her friends were piling into Simon's truck like they owned it. Before she could even process it, they had her shoved into the passenger seat, wedged close to Simon with her heart thumping embarrassingly hard. Her friends, meanwhile, were giggling and whispering like they were at a sleepover, eyes sparkling with tipsy mischief.

And, of course, they had to try making him talk.

Lottie leaned over the seat, resting her chin on her hands with a sly grin. “So… Simon, was it? You’re, like, a real Uber driver, right?”

A long, deadpan silence. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, unamused. “…Sure.”

Alexa chimed in, barely holding back her laughter. “Do you always drive around with the hat and mask? Gotta say, it’s got… a certain vibe.”

He said nothing, just kept his hands on the wheel, looking painfully unfazed.

But then, of course, Millie had to deliver the ultimate question. In her slightly slurred, fearless way, she looked over at him and asked, “Aaaand wha’? Wha’s your type, Ssssimon?”

She wanted to die. She glared daggers at Millie, mouthing a very obvious FUCK YOU in all caps, while Millie only giggled harder.

A few seconds of silence stretched like a lifetime. But then, to her shock, he finally spoke.

“Reckless,” he said, eyes flicking just briefly in her direction.

The word hung in the air, heavy and almost taunting. Her cheeks flamed up, her mind spiraling. He went right back to focusing on the road, unreadable and quiet as ever.

Oh, God.

She was not the shy type. Never had been. But right then, with Simon’s gaze cutting through her, she felt her face heat up as if she’d never flirted a day in her life.

“Oh, you did the impossible, Simon! You made her blush!” Millie slurred from the back, grinning like she’d just won the lottery.

Millie, I swear, you’re dead to me.

Simon, to her surprise, looked even less amused, but he kept driving, eyes focused straight ahead, not saying another word. They went on like that, him in his silent concentration and her doing everything to avoid his stare, as he dropped Millie off first. Millie stumbled out with a wave and a sloppy “G’bye, Uber,” giving Simon a wink that he definitely ignored.

Next was Alexa, who leaned in for an exaggerated, tipsy goodbye, pressing a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “You’re the best,” she whispered, giggling as she stumbled out into the night.

Finally, it was just her, Simon, and Lottie, who hadn’t said a word in a while. The quiet was odd, especially for Lottie, who was never one to stay silent long.

Then Simon’s voice broke through the silence, calm but resolute. “She’s asleep.”

“What—oh. Right.” She twisted around and saw Lottie, slumped against the window, practically drooling.

“…You need to wake her up,” he said, his voice that same low, unamused rumble.

She blinked at him, feigning ignorance. “What?”

He exhaled, sounding downright annoyed. “Wake her up. Your friend. She’s asleep. Drooling on my window.”

Oh, for the love of— “Right, okay,” she mumbled, reaching back to shake Lottie awake.

Lottie stumbled out, muttering a half-asleep goodbye and thanks, barely making it through her front door. As she disappeared into her house, the truck lurched back into motion, and that dreaded silence settled in like an unwelcome guest.

Her heart pounded as she tried to string together any words that might cut through the heavy air. What do I say now? Do I thank him? Apologize? Do I tell him I’m sorry a thousand times?

She swallowed hard and started. “I… I didn’t know she called you. I thought she was calling an actual Uber.”

“It’s fine,” he said, his voice flat, eyes locked on the road.

“Like, honestly, it’s my fault anyway because… well, I still had you saved as ‘Simon Personal Uber.’ I know it’s stupid, I just… forgot to change it.” She bit her lip, wanting to say more, to explain away the joke. “I didn’t think we’d even talk again, so…”

He didn’t respond. She fidgeted, regretting every word coming out of her mouth.

“Because, you know… you ghosted me,” she finished, the words slipping out before she could stop herself.

She winced, instantly regretting it as the weight of his stare fell upon her, cutting through the dim light of the street. It was that same steady, unreadable stare she’d seen before, and now, with the truck idling at a red light, he turned to face her fully, eyes piercing and unyielding.

“I ghosted what?”

She froze, feeling her pulse quicken under his stare. Oh, God. Did I really just say that?

A rush of heat flooded her cheeks. “You… ghosted me?” Her voice barely a whisper, more question than statement now.

He held her gaze, the faintest glint of something amused flickering in his eyes. The light turned green, but he didn’t move.

Finally, he spoke, his voice calm but edged with something unreadable. “Guess that’s a new one for my book.”

A smile tugged at her lips, barely there, but real. And somehow, in the quiet that followed, she found herself feeling strangely comfortable.

The moment he started to drive again, she was laser-focused on her phone, her fingers tapping furiously as she composed a text to Millie:

She didn’t expect a reply since Millie was likely face-planted in her pillow, but that didn’t stop her. She spammed away.

She chuckled, shaking her head at her ridiculousness, but God, it felt good to let it out. A giddy, nervous energy buzzed through her.

And then, the truck rolled to a stop in front of her house. She glanced over at him, feeling his eyes on her, heavy and unwavering. That silence settled over them again, but this time, she knew she had to break it.

“I’m paying you,” she declared, trying to sound firm.

“No.”

She huffed, searching for a reason. “…Please?”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“The second time sounded like a question, love.”

Her heart skipped at that one word. Love? Had he actually just called her that? She could feel her cheeks heat up. What was happening to her? Since when did she get so flustered over a single word?

She fumbled, desperate to say something that wouldn’t sound completely ridiculous. “Just… let me… just the gas?”

He only shook his head, and she felt like she was grasping at straws, anything to keep this moment alive. She wanted to laugh it off, maybe tease him back, but nothing came. She was too focused on those eyes, the way they seemed to look straight through her, keeping her pinned in place.

Finally, she managed to blurt out, “I texted you.”

“Hm?” He looked at her, just slightly tilting his head.

“I texted you. You didn’t answer.” Her voice was softer now, almost apologetic. She wasn’t sure why she was even bringing this up; it wasn’t like she had any right to feel hurt over it. They’d barely even spoken, but still, it had stung.

“Wanted to talk about something?” he asked, his voice steady and unbothered.

She laughed nervously. “Maybe.”

“I don’t like texts.”

Her face fell. “…Should I have called you?”

“No.”

Damn. That one stung even more than she expected. She felt ridiculous, embarrassed for pushing the conversation this far. Idiot, idiot, she thought, mentally kicking herself as she opened the door to step out. “Right… shit, sorry.”

She turned, flashing him a weak smile as she stepped onto the curb. “Thanks. Sorry. Bye!” Her voice was high-pitched, her nerves showing through as she scrambled away. She felt a sting in her chest, like the silence he left her in had weight, pressing down on her.

But then, as she was halfway to her door, she heard him mutter, just loud enough to reach her: “…I like bourbon.”

She froze, turning around to look at him in disbelief. She could barely see his face in the dark truck, but that one line hung in the air, giving her just enough of a lifeline to feel like maybe—just maybe—she hadn’t embarrassed herself completely.

She could hardly contain herself as she watched his truck disappear down the road, and just like that, her phone was out. She juggled it in her hands, struggling to keep hold of it without dropping her keys and everything else she’d somehow managed to carry inside. Her fingers fumbled over the screen, but she didn’t care—she had one thing to say, and she typed it out without overthinking.

As soon as she hit send, she felt that familiar mix of nerves and excitement bubble up. She locked the door, kicked off her shoes, and stumbled through her evening routine, her heartbeat racing more from the message she’d just sent than the drinks she’d had. She’d just settled into bed, sighing as her body finally relaxed, when her phone buzzed.

Her eyes widened, barely believing he’d actually answered, and so quickly. She hadn’t even thought that far ahead, but the words sank in, full of promise.

A surge of thrill rushed through her, making her grin like an idiot. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, heart pounding.

She held her breath, not sure what he’d say, or if he’d say anything at all. But then, her screen lit up.

She sank back into her pillow, clutching her phone to her chest. That blunt, matter-of-fact reply shouldn’t have made her this giddy, but damn—straightforward men were just so hot.

NOT ME FINISHING MY SHIFT AND POSTING THIS PART EVEN AFTER I SAID I’D POST IT ON MONDAY. I just don’t know the word rest... anyways, love you all, really ♥

[cre8inghavoc]

Can't help it...

Part 9

inumaki x f!reader

pairing: inumaki x f!reader

summary: Transferring to a new school is tough, but having your three best friends there makes it easier. Things get even more interesting when you start falling for the mysterious boy who rides his motorcycle to school every day. What will happen next?

genre/warnings: [18+] Characters are aged up. Story contains cursing, new friends, alcohol, college!au, no curse!au, dark humour, SMAU and written parts, fluff, smut.

Inumaki's POV:

I’ve been staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours now, and I don’t understand why I can’t sleep. I mean, I’ve always had issues with sleeping—insomnia’s been my constant companion for as long as I can remember—but I thought it was getting better. This past week, for the first time in years, I actually slept well. It was odd, sure, but I wasn’t complaining.

But tonight? Tonight, it’s back to the old ways.

Back to no sleep.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I glanced over at the clock.

4 a.m.

Great.

Should I even bother going to school later? Maybe I should just skip. But then… I wouldn’t see y/n.

Fuck.

The thought of not seeing her tomorrow... or today, technically... made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t want to think too much about. I let out another frustrated sigh and turned my head to look at my phone on the nightstand. For a moment, I just stared at it, my mind running through all the reasons why texting her at this hour would be a terrible idea.

She’s probably asleep. You’ll wake her up. She’ll think you’re being annoying. Just leave her alone.

But then again… what if she’s awake too? What if she’s thinking about me the way I’m thinking about her right now?

Before I could overthink it anymore, I grabbed my phone, my thumb hesitating over the keyboard. I typed out a message and stared at it for a second, debating whether or not to hit send.

This is stupid. She’s not awake. You’ll look like an idiot.

But my thumb pressed send before I could talk myself out of it.

Hey… you up?

I tossed my phone on the bed beside me and ran a hand over my face, already regretting it. But now all I could do was wait.

Honestly, I was kind of hoping she would respond. It’s not like I can sleep, so maybe talking to her would help. But at the same time… I kind of hope she doesn’t even see my message. Because… what if I’m being too much?

What if she sees it, rolls her eyes, and thinks I’m just some guy who can’t get a grip? Someone who’s bothering her at 4 a.m. for no reason?

I sighed, staring at the faint glow of my phone screen as it sat on the bed next to me. What was I expecting? That she’d magically be awake, texting back right away? And if she did… what would I even say?

Hey, I can’t stop thinking about you?

Yeah, right. That would go over well.

I shook my head, feeling the frustration bubble up in my chest. Why was she in my head so much? Why couldn’t I just… let it go? Ignore it? Pretend I wasn’t thinking about the way she looked at me earlier, or the way her voice shook just a little when she was mad?

I groaned softly, rolling over onto my side and staring at the phone again. One minute passed. Then another. The screen stayed dark, and the silence stretched on. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe it was better if she didn’t answer.

Because if she did… I wasn’t sure what I’d say next. Or worse, what I’d admit.

But then, to my surprise, my phone buzzed.

I blinked, staring at it for a moment as if I’d imagined the notification. The screen lit up, her name glowing back at me. My heart skipped a beat, and I hesitated before picking it up, as if seeing her response would somehow make this real.

WARNING: SMUT (18+ ONLY) & HEAVY FLIRTING/TEASING

A/N

things are getting veryyy spicy now 👀

hope you enjoyed this little tease

im so sorry this took so look... it was very unexpected ive just been extremely busy and honestly haven't had the energy to write much

yes this is very short butttt i kinda just want some of yalls opinion on this... like would you actually wanna read the smut (next part)

ik its late ASF BUT ENJOY IT PLEASE OR ELSE ILL CRY FR

TAG LIST <3

@madaqueue @mikko-mikko @arabella0001 @swarachxle @s3ns4ti0n4l @jdgfsgdgdvf @tomikixd @arabella0001 @emotionalasf @unofficialsapphire @miowxh @hansl0ver @miowxh

[a-babe-without-a-name]

Sit Next To Me

Chapter 4: Viktor, Give It To Me.

You had created two rules for yourself.

Rule One: You could do whatever you wanted. Get the degree you want, party when you want, cancel plans when you want, love who you want. Whatever you really wanted to do, you were going to do, anxiety and guilt free.

Rule Two: You could do whatever you wanted, except for have relationships with classmates. No sex, no dating. If they were on the same course roster as you, they were off limits.

Easy enough, right?

…Right?

Viktor x Female!Reader - 18+

CW: Blood. Spoiler details in the End Notes on AO3

A.N. Christ on a mf cracker, this took me forever and it's way longer than it should be. Thank you so so so much to everyone who has left such kind comments and encouragement on the other chapters. It means the world to me. It's 1 am and I'm incredibly tired, so short author note. If I think of anything else to add, I will put more author notes in the replies.

Read on AO3

By the time Wednesday morning rolled around, you had practically pushed all thoughts of Viktor from your head. You had to, there were so many things you needed to get done and what felt like negative time to do them. You were barely halfway through week two of the semester and you were officially drowning. In retrospect, three STEM classes at once was probably a bad idea. Not only was the course load for each class borderline crushing, but it was getting hard to even keep the classes straight. The jargon between each was so similar, two of them shared a textbook, and each one had hours of homework each night. 

Right now you were hunched over a table in Heimerdinger's classroom, staring down at your schedule and notes and attempted organization of the three classes, your hands buried in your hair. You were trying to decide if the page numbers scribbled into the edge of your notes with ‘4 EnviSci’ under it was for your Oceanic or General Envi-Sci class. Your focus, paired with the headphones you were wearing, prevented you from noticing when Viktor took his seat next to you. It took a moment, but when you finally did notice his movement out of the corner of your eye, you flinched hard.

“Sorry,” He laughed, eyes wide as you clutched at your chest, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Christ, you’re quiet,” You tried to joke, shaking off the startled moment and dropping your headphones onto the table.

“I said good morning and your name,” He told you, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh…” You felt your cheeks go red, “Goodmorning, sorry.”

“It is fine,” He shook his head, then craned his neck to look at the papers in front of you, “What are you so focused on, anyway?”

“My schedule from hell,” You groaned, dragging your hands down your face, you slid the papers over to show him, “I’ve fucked myself.”

“Not in the fun way?” He smirked.

“Ew, shut up,” You scoffed, swatting at his arm.

“Sorry, sorry,” He chuckled, halfway dodging away halfway taking the hit, “What is wrong with your schedule?”

“It’s just so hard to keep straight,” You sighed, “Like, yesterday I gave my Gen EnviSci homework to my Oceanic EnviSci professor and didn’t realize until it was way too late.”

“Hm, yeah, that's not great,” He agreed, “But you wanted to take both classes, no?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“And your advisor approved you for these classes, correct?” He cut you off.

“Well, yes, but-”

“Then, your advisor thinks you are more than capable of taking these classes,” He interrupted again, his force was only encouraging, “Why are you doubting yourself?”

You sighed as you looked down at you. The question was one hundred percent genuine. He was waiting for an answer.

“I…I don’t know,” You picked at the edge of the table, chewing on the inside of your cheek, “It’s just harder than I thought it was gonna be.”

“Ha, that’s what she said,” Jinx snorted as she slid into her seat across from you. Ekko rolled his eyes as he took his seat.

“Good morning Jinx,” You scoffed, “Thank you for your seven A.M. humor.”

“Anytime,” She blew you a kiss as she pulled her laptop out of her bag.

Your conversation with Viktor died as class started. You did your best to focus on the current lecture instead of dwelling on your tangled schedule. 

----

You were grateful that Heimerdinger had planned a lab for the second half of class today. Heimerdinger had reasoned that it had been many months since most of the class had even stepped foot into a lab. He planned a simple titration experiment as a warm-up to the more complex projects that were to come. The groups shuffled into the crisp white lab, following Hiemerdinger as he reminded everyone about lab safety and personal protection equipment. He explained that the experiment would be straightforward but most likely take the whole two hours. He instructed the groups to split into pairs or trios to ensure that everyone took a hands-on role in the experiment.  As he set everyone loose, he encouraged people to take their time and ask for help if needed. 

You were glad this was a low stress lab, it gave you the perfect opportunity to assess Viktor. For as long as you had been studying science, from highschool to internship settings, it was these moments where you could tell alot about a man. You couldn’t count the amount of times a guy who seemed incredibly kind and respectful showed you how truly misogynistic and vile he really was during a lab. It wasn’t like you wanted Viktor to do something wrong, but it would definitely be easier to rid him from your thoughts if he turned out to be a dick. 

“Hey, are you going to Cait’s house tonight?” Jinx asked you as your group headed to don PPE.

“Yeah, I was planning on it,” You told her, picking out a lab coat from the rack, “Are you?”

“Jayce is cooking, of course I'm going,” She snorted, and then jabbed Viktor in the ribs, “I’m assuming you’ll be there, too. Ya know, since it’s your house.”

He just nodded and hummed as he pulled on his own lab coat and safety glasses.

“Listen, I’m voting for a horror movie tonight,” Jinx told you, then pointed between you and Viktor as she walked away, “And you two should back me up on that.”

You shook your head, watching as she retreated back to the table with Ekko.

“So, partner,” Viktor said, looking down at you, “Do you wanna set up the burette or get the liquids?”

“Hm, I’ll set up the burette, if that's okay?” You asked as you reached the table.

“Perfect, I’ll be right back,” he grabbed the list of materials from the table and went off to gather what was needed. 

Luckily - unfortunately?- the lab went perfect. Viktor was an incredible lab partner. He told you everything he was thinking, asked for your ideas and opinions, stepped in when you seemed hesitant about something, and let you help him when he was unsure. You two worked together perfectly, completely in sync as you worked through the lab and moved on to the equations. In the end, you and him ended up being the first pair to finish. 

“No fair,” Jinx whined from across the table, four flasks of bright pink liquid spread between her and Ekko, “How are y’all done so fast?” 

“Probably because they didn’t purposefully add too much titration because it made a pretty color,” Ekko groaned, rubbing his forehead on the back of his wrists.

“Well, there’s no point if I’m not gonna have fun, “ Jinx defended herself, picking up an oversaturated flask and swirling the bright pink liquid around, “Besides, only the first two were on purpose.”

“Good job, Partner,” You said, holding out a fist to him as you both started cleaning up the experiment.

He tapped his knuckles against yours, amused, “You too,”

You grinned at him as you gathered glassware to wash. When everything was cleaned up and put away, the area was nearly better than how you found it. Before you finally packed up to leave the lab, you caught a glimpse of the notes Viktor had taken to turn in and froze.

“Oh, uh hey Viktor?” You asked, tilting your head down at the paper and squinting. His handwriting was completely and utterly unintelligible. 

“Hm?” He asked absentmindedly, putting his things away in his bag.

“Actually, I don’t think we should leave just yet,” You blurted out, trying to think of a way to do this nicely, “Would it be cool if we stayed to type up the notes? Uh, you know, just in case something happens to these ones.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, seeing right through the lie, “You think my handwriting is bad.”

“What? No!” You squeaked, “No,I just think it’s a good idea to have a backup, just in case.”

“Okay, well if it's not about my handwriting,” He stood and pushed the paper into your hands, “You can go ahead and type them up if you want.”

He walked away as you stared down at the pages. It wasn’t that his handwriting was bad, it was that it was too good. His words were in a sweeping and slanted cursive, written fast enough to smear the pen ink. HIs equations were crystal clear and everything else felt like trying to read a letter from the 1800s. Before you knew it Viktor was already out of the lab. The tapping of his cane got fainter as he moved farther away.

“Wait!” You yelped, walking as fast as you could through the lab without getting in trouble, trying to follow him into the main classroom. He was nearly out the door when you caught up to him, hissing, “Viktor, wait!”

“Admit you think my handwriting is bad, and I’ll help you,” He said, turning and looking at you calmly.

“I…ugh, fine,” You dropped your head sheepishly, giving in, “Listen, it’s not that your handwriting is bad, I just… can’t read it.”

He hummed, narrowing his eyes at you, searching for a lie.

“Really, I swear,” You told him, “If anything, your handwriting is actually gorgeous, I am just inept.”

“Okay okay, calm down,” He waved off your flattery, “Fine, I’ll read it, you type it.”

“Thank you,” You sighed, following him to your table in the empty classroom. 

You pulled out your laptop, swiping away the pages of scheduling notes you had closed in it earlier that day. Viktor picked one of them up, glancing over it.

“You know, I didn’t get to tell you earlier,” He said, catching your eye and giving a small smile, “But I think you are very intelligent, and also very capable.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” You fumbled as your entire face went red.

“I mean it,” He told you, in all honesty, “You’re very smart, and I think you are causing yourself undue stress over your classes.”

“Viktor, it’s fine, really,” You tried to stop him, feeling exposed by his adulation.

“All I’m saying is,” He sighed trying to find the right words, “I haven’t known you for very long, but you seem like the type of scientist who wants to do real good in the world, but you can’t do that if you burn yourself out in the first two semesters of junior year.”

You stared at him with wide eyes and swallowed hard, hoping he couldn’t tell that you were willing tears not to well, “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he nodded and then turned away to look down at his paper, “Ready to type?”

  “Uh, yeah,” You opened up a document, “Yeah, go ahead.”

As he began reading, you shook your head slightly, trying to shake the feeling he left you with. Stupid perfect lab partner.

----

After classes, the drive to the Rune Street house was quick. Luckily, your last class ended in time for you to get through the neighborhood without having to wait in school zone traffic. An old BMW wagon was sitting in the driveway next to Jayce’s Pruis, you didn’t recognize it. 

You didn’t bother to knock when you went inside, “It’s me!” you shouted as you dropped your bag into the hall closet. The house smelled like spices and chiles.

“In here!” Jayce called back from the kitchen, you found him practically up to his elbows in masa.

“Starting already?” You leaned your back against the counter, watching as he tried to wrangle the dough into the bowl.

“Hey! Yeah, full house tonight. Wanted to get a jump on it, ” He shrugged, washing the dough off his hands and wrists.

“Ah, smart,” You nodded, looking around the kitchen for something to do, “Hey, who’s Beamer is out front?”

“It’s V’s,” He nodded behind you, you turned your neck to see the aforementioned roommate walking out of his room and towards the kitchen with an empty mug in his hand. He was wearing a pair of narrow wire rimmed glasses, a new addition since you last saw him this morning.

“Ha, makes sense,” You smirked at him, trying not to react to the way he looked in the glasses that would look lame on anyone else, or the fact that he drives a manual. Both of which made you feel a very particular sort of way. 

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Viktor scoffed, tossing a tea bag into the trash and slotting the mug into the dishwasher.

“Nothing, it’s just very European of you,” You teased, moving to lean your hip against the counter so you could see both men, “that’s all.”

Viktor settled on the other side of the kitchen peninsula, opening up a book that was sitting there, “Hm, I’m not going to hold back on the American jokes if that’s how you’re going to act.”

“I dare you,” You narrowed your eyes on him, hoping he would take the joke as it was. 

He returned the look, chewing on the inside of his lip before huffing and rolling his eyes. 

“When did you two meet?” Jayce asked with a laugh, reminding you he was there. 

“We’re in the same-”

“Friday night at the party-”

You and Viktor spoke at the same time. You couldn't help the shocked way you looked at him, Jayce did not need to know that.

“What?”

“We met at the party,” You jumped in, throwing a pointed look at Viktor, then laughed, “Shared a joint, but not names.”

You hoped Viktor would stick to the half lie. 

“Mhm, and she transferred into my OChem class this week,” Viktor nodded, luckily not elaborating on your explanation, “Connected some dots.”

“Oh cool,” Jayce beamed, his puppy dog energy not catching whatever tension might be showing, “Sorry I didn’t get to introduce you guys, it’s cool you have class together.”

“Yeah, we’re in a group with Jinx and Ekko,” You told him, feeling in the clear about your secret not getting out. You flipped the subject anyways, just in case, “Is there anything I can help with?”

“Hm,” Jayce looked around the kitchen, thinking, “Filling is cooking right now. I was planning to make rice later and pico, too. I’ll need help putting everything together later, though.”

“Okay, cool.” You figured you could get your homework done before everyone showed up.

“Yeah. Did you get the husks, by the way?” He asked, wiping down the counter.

“Uh…” You narrowed your eyes at him, searching through your memory, “I would have if you had asked me to.”

“I did ask you to!” Jayce huffed, looking at you disappointed.

“Dude, when?” You didn’t even know he was planning to make tamales until you had walked in.

“Last night,” He crossed his arms over his chest, you resisted the urge to call him your mother, “I texted you.”

“Bro, no the fuck you didn’t,” You insisted, then turned to Viktor, “Do you know your roommate is delusional?”

“Do not drag me into this,” Viktor said, glancing up over the top of his glasses.

“I did,” Jayce argued, pulling out his phone, “You just never check your messages.”

He wasn’t wrong, you weren’t the most reliable at checking your text notifications, but you were sure he hadn’t texted you last night….well mostly sure. Jayce opened up his phone, tapping through it with purpose. Out of the corner of your eye you could tell that Viktor was poorly pretending to not care. When the smug look fell from Jayce’s face, you cackled. Without saying anything, Jayce grabbed his keys from the counter and walked towards the front door.

“I fucking told you.” You called after him, wiping a tear away as you laughed. You turned to Viktor,  “He’s such a brat.”

“Eh,” He shrugged, trying to act like he wasn’t biting back his own grin. 

Before you could tease him as well, your phone rang. Jayce’s photo on the screen.

“Have you even left the driveway?” You asked, rolling your eyes.

“Make the pico please,” Jayce told you, you could picture the defeat on his face, “And keep an eye on the chicken.”

“Hmm, that doesn’t sound like an apology,” You pulled a cutting board out of the cabinet anyways, “But! If you get me and Viktor drinks on the way back, you’ve got a deal.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow at you, you exaggerated a wink in response. 

“That is exploitation, but fine.” Jayce huffed, “text me if we need anything else from the store.”

You laughed to yourself as he hung up, sure you’d never get tired of bickering with Jayce. He made you feel like you had a sibling sometimes. You gathered what you needed for the salsa. Jayce had made it with you enough times now that a recipe was unnecessary. When you were sure all the ingredients were present and you wouldn’t need Jayce to pick anything else up, you started to put everything together. You stood at the kitchen peninsula so that Viktor was sitting almost directly across from you. Taking advantage of the moment, you let yourself stare at him. The glasses were a…good look, for sure. The harsh black lines of the frames stood out against his pale skin. They were slid down the ridge of his nose, the edge of the frame rested just under the mole on his cheek. His eyelashes brushed against the top of his cheeks every time he blinked. He scrunched his nose just slightly as he read a sentence, eyes not moving from where they were focused as he read the same sentence again. And again.

“So, what’re you pretending to read?” You asked as you began cutting the chiles.

“Hm, interesting accusation.” He snorted without looking up, flipping the page.

“Viktor, honey, that’s the first time you’ve flipped the page in 10 minutes,” You raised an eyebrow.

He squinted at you, “I’m a slow reader…”

“Uh-huh, sure you are,” You smirked at him, teasing, “If you wanted to hang out with me you could've just said so.”

“You’re…” He narrowed his eyes, you wished you could see the list of things he wanted to call you, “somewhat self-obsessed, aren’t you?” is what he settled on.

“Yeah probably,” you shrugged, scraping the chile seeds into the trash, “gotta be sometimes.”

“Interesting philosophy,” He closed the book anyway, leaning towards you on his elbows. 

“You could call it that, sure,” You rinsed your hands in the sink, trying to ward off the sting of the chile seeds, “Hey, text Jayce and tell him to get me an iced strawberry matcha, yeah? And let him know what you want, too.”

“You’re gonna hold him to that?” He pulled his phone out anyway.

“Yeah of course,” You started chopping again, “Honestly, I’m rarely right when it comes to Jayce. Gotta take advantage, ya know.”

“Huh, very big of you to admit that,” He muttered, tapping away on his screen.

“And you said I was self-obsessed,” You scoffed and then leaned over the counter, trying to peek at his phone screen, “What’d you ask him for?”

“Eh, same thing,” He shrugged, setting his phone to the side and focusing his attention back on you, “You and Jayce are close friends?” 

“Yeah, of course,” You told him, nodding firmly, “One of my closest friends.”

“How’d you meet him?” He asked.

“If you’re gonna interview me, at least help,” You gathered up a second cutting board and knife, sliding it across the counter to him with an onion, “We met freshman year. We lived in the same hall. That’s how most of us became friends.”

“Ah, makes sense. So your living situation is what made everyone friends?,” He picked up the knife, and chopped the onion into quarters.

“Kinda,” You shrugged, “Jayce and Cait knew each other before coming to Piltover, so they roomed together, and Me, Lest, and Mel were put in a triple next door. Vi didn’t live on our floor, but her and Cait started on and off dating pretty quick.”

“Hm, I didn’t realize Cait and Vi’s relationship was like that,”

“Yeah, key- word was,” You told him, “No one will admit or talk about it, but their relationship started off pretty toxic. It got better after freshman year, thank god.”

He nodded, thinking about it.

“Don’t tell anyone I said that, yeah?” You asked, “It doesn't matter now anyways, they’re better, clearly.”

“Said what?” He raised an eyebrow at you, then, “What about the others?”

“What do you mean?”

“So, you lived with Mel and Lest, Cait and Jayce lived next door, and Cait started dating Vi,” He waved the knife around slightly while speaking, “How do you know Sky? And Jinx and Ekko?”

“Jayce had a class with Sky and just ended up dragging her along, she’s always been a bit of an outlying friend in the group. Not because we don’t want her around, she’s just a little more introverted than the rest of us,” You explained, “She seems to be breaking out of her shell a little bit this semester, though, which is nice to see.”

“She is very nice, I do like having her around,” He mused, you bit back a jealous comment. You turned him down, you didn’t get to have an opinion on who he liked having around.

“Yeah, she’s great. And Jinx is Vi’s sister, she’s two years younger but graduated highschool early.” You dumped the first handfuls of diced chiles into a bow, “She was a little hesitant of us at the beginning of last year. She wasn’t a huge fan of Cait, but she came around. Honestly, I probably spend more time with Jinx than I do with Cait at this point. Ekko, too. Him and Jinx grew up together, they’re practically attached at the hip.”

You stopped talking, staring down at your hands for a moment as you realized how long you had rambled.

“Ha, and you didn’t really ask for all that information,” You laughed awkwardly, “Sorry.”

“I don’t mind the details,” He assured you, you felt his eyes on your face until you looked up, no sarcasm when he said, “besides, I like listening to you talk.”

You hid your burning face by looking back down, intensely focused on the task in front of you. 

“Don’t tell me that,” You tried to joke, but it was weak, “I’ll never shut up.”

He hummed quietly to himself, pleased with your reaction to him. You half expected a teasing remark, instead he asked, “What about you?”

“What?” You asked, not looking up at him.

“What about you?” He asked again, “You’re telling me about the others, but not really yourself. Where are you from?

“Why do you want to know?” You went back to cutting, eyes focusing on your hands.

“Because I do,” He shrugged, “I’m a scientist, I like to know things.”

“Huh, that’s a fair enough reason I guess,” You didn’t necessarily see the harm in telling him, but the more he knew about you the harder it would be to create distance, “I’m from here, and Maine.”

“You’re from two places?”

“I lived here when I was kid and moved to Winter Harbor when I was, like, 11,” You explained, “So, two places, yeah.”

  “Why’d you move?” 

“Why does anyone move at 11?” You laughed, “Because my dad did.”

“Your parents are divorced?” He guessed, pulling the bowl of chile’s towards him to scrape some of the onion in.

“Aren’t everyones,” You joked, hoping it watered down the bitterness, “I don’t mind it really. I had to go back and forth a lot until I was 16, which is really the only part that sucked. When I was old enough to work, I stopped having to go for summers and it was better.”

“Ah, so you live with…your father?”

“Yep,” You started in on the tomatoes, trying to find a serrated knife to use with no luck.

“You don’t like your mother?” The invasive question didn’t feel so invasive when he asked it.

“I love my mom,” You said, not meeting his eyes.

“Love her, but do not like her,” He concluded.

“That sounds so awful of me, but…”

“I don’t think so,” He shrugged, “You don’t get to choose your family, it makes sense not to like them 100% of the time.”

“I guess…” You frowned down at your hands, struggling to cut through the vegetable with the flat knife, “Still feel guilty about it, though.”

“Can I ask why you don’t like her?” This question was more hesitant, clearly curious to know but not expecting you to answer. 

“I shouldn’t talk bad about her, she tries, ya know. But she’s just never….” You searched your brian for the right word to describe your mothers behaviors, “content.”

“Hm, how so?” He took the bowl again.

“Nothing is ever good enough for her,” You tried to explain, “My dad wasn’t enough, the east coast wasn’t enough, her second husband wasn’t enough, I’m not enough.” You laughed, not able to hide the acid in your voice, “Honestly, I’m sure she’ll decide that her new husband isn’t good enough for her either in a few years. And, yes I understand that people should have what they want and shouldn’t settle for less or whatever, but she wants too much and when you give it to her she just wants more.” 

You struggled to saw through the tomato as you spoke. Your voice and irritation both raised until finally the knife slipped and skidded across your skin. You gasped, rant dying mid breath as you watched blood spring from the slice in your hand. 

“Ah, you should have used a serrated knife,” Viktor pointed out absentmindedly, leaning over to look at your hands.

Your whole body tensed, frozen in place as your breathing became short and harsh. You wanted to move, to stop your blood from spilling over your skin and onto the cutting board, to do anything, but you were stuck. Fully paralyzed as more and more covered your fingers, your ears began to ring.

“Hey” Viktor waved a hand at you, calling your name as he tried to get your attention, “Are you okay?”

You couldn’t speak. You didn’t register that he had moved, but suddenly he was next to you. His fingers wrapped around your wrist and he pulled you towards the kitchen sink. The splash of cold water against your skin ripped you back to earth.

“Ah, fuck,” You hissed, trying to pull your hand away. The cut in your skin burned under the sink faucet, but he didn’t let you go. 

“Stop, let me help you,” He scolded, hands still gentle.

“Ow, god, fuck that hurts,” You whined, pressing your face into the side of his arm, not wanting to look at your own hand. You fisted her hand around the back of his shirt, holding on to him like you would fall through the earth if you didn’t.

“Shh, it’s not that bad, just breathe,” His voice was soft and reassuring as he pulled your hand from under the water. You could feel him pull it closer to his face to inspect the damage. 

Your eyes were screwed shut, face still pressed into him. You did as he asked and pulled in a deep breath, trying to level yourself out. The scent of him filled your head, black tea and citrus and honey. You took another breath, focusing your attention on him instead of your own body. You could feel his muscles move where your forehead was pressed to him, his shoulder blades under your fingers. Solid and strong and sturdy next to your shaking body.

“Yeah, there you go, just keep breathing.” He put your hand under the water for a few more seconds, then shut it off, “I’m gonna put pressure, okay.”

You nodded, sucking in a breath and bracing against him as he pressed a towel against your skin. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the pathetic whimper it forced out of you. You were hyper aware of the tightness of your skin where the cut was, working yourself up again.

“Hey, you’re doing fine,” He told you, holding the cloth tight to your skin, “It won’t even need stitches, I promise.”

You nodded, timing your breathing with his. Neither of you had heard the front door open or the commotion of Cait and Vi coming into the house.

“Woah, what’s going on here?” Vi laughed awkwardly, unsure what they had walked in on.

“She cut her hand,” Viktor told them, not moving from where he stood, “Cait, is there a first aid kit somewhere?”

“Yes, one second,” You heard her hurry away.

“You good?” Vi asked from outside the kitchen, unsure of how to help.

“Yep,” You squeaked out, unmoving aside from throwing Vi a blind thumbs up.

“Here it is,” You heard Cait come back into the kitchen, “How bad is it? What do you need, Viktor?”

“It’s not too bad,” He told her, you flattened your hand against his back, feeling him move when he spoke, “Just some butterfly strips if there are any, and maybe a roll of gauze”

“Yeah, here,” Cait rustled around in the kit for a moment, setting out what Viktor asked for, “Do you need any help?”

“I can handle it, thank you,” Viktor assured her.

“Sure, shout if you need anything, okay?” Cait told him, voice retreating.

You were glad she didn’t insist, already embarrassed enough by your reaction in front of Viktor. More witnesses weren’t necessary. Viktor adjusted, moving so his arm was over your shoulder to get a better grip on your hand. You let him move you around, pressing your cheek to the back of his shoulder, still breathing him in as he pinned you to his side. 

“I’m sorry,” You told him, letting out a shaky breath.

“Hm, you don’t need to be sorry,” You felt his thumb rub gently against your wrist, not to help the wound on your hand, just trying to calm you down.

“This was over dramatic,” You scoffed, pressing your nose hard against him, trying to hide, “...I just don’t like blood.”

“Clearly,” He laughed gently, “lots of people don’t. I’m gonna put the bandaid on it, okay?”

You nodded, grateful for the warning. His hands were gently as he secured the cut and wrapped the gauze around it. 

“There,” He said, pulling away from you, “All fixed.”

“Thank you,” You said, stepping back and examining his handiwork. The gauze banded around your hand was laid perfectly, smoothly hiding any evidence of the incident. 

“You’re welcome,” He nodded, “Does it feel okay? It’s not too tight?”

“No, it’s perfect,” You smiled weakly up at him, still red in the face.

“I’m glad I was here,” He joked,“Seems like you would have bled out otherwise.”

You shook your head with a laugh, “Yeah, probably,”

He took a step over, putting himself between the counter and you, “Don’t panic, but there is blood on the counter. Do you want to go sit down while I clean it up?”

“Oh, gross,” You cringed, “No, I can clean it up.”

“Are you sure?” He held a hand out to the side, as if to catch you were you to faint.

“Yeah,” You assured him, “I’m good now, I’m okay.”

He let you step past him to get to the counter. There was less blood than you had expected, which did nothing to ease the embarrassment of your dramatics. Carefully you dropped the knife into the sink and scrapped the mutilated tomato into the trash. Viktor, unable to not help, grabbed a rag and wiped down the counter. You turned the hot water on, rinsing away the tomato seeds and drops of blood. It wasn’t until you stepped away from the counter that you noticed the smear of blood across the bottom of your t-shirt.

“Aw fuck,” You pouted, pulling the fabric away to look at it. The stain wasn’t huge, but it was obvious against the light colored fabric. It made your stomach turn to see your own blood so bright on your clothes.

“You have bad luck with stains in this house,” He told you, taking a second to pick up on your unease, “Do you want to borrow a shirt?”

“Oh, uh, yes,” You admitted, chewing on your bottom lip, “If that’s okay.”

“Wouldn't have offered if it wasn’t okay,” He told you, already grabbing his cane from where he had rested it against the cabinet and heading out of the kitchen.

You followed him to his room just off the main living space. It was your room from the summer. Except it wasn’t your room, not at all. You had been living awkwardly out of a pair of suitcases for 4 weeks. This was Viktor’s room. 

You hadn’t known him long enough to even think about what his room would be like, but you were sure you would have been exactly right. It was very him. Tidy and warm, posters and art on the walls placed perfectly, bed made, shoes lined up by the door. The only part of the room that wasn’t neat was his desk and what seemed to be a work table. Both covered in papers and books and pieces of machines.

You stood there awkwardly in the middle of his room, watching as he dug through his dresser to find you something to wear. He pulled out a navy t-shirt and brought it to you.

“If I let you borrow this,” He said, pulling it just out of reach, “You must promise to bring back my other one.”

“What?” You narrowed your eyes at him, hand frozen halfway to the shirt.

“The other night, it wasn’t Jayce’s shirt that you took,” He teased, biting back a smirk when your jaw fell open.

“Dude, what the fuck,” You felt heat creeping up your cheeks again, your shoulders curled up as you shrank away from him, “Why didn’t you say it was yours?”

“Eh, you looked good in it,” He shrugged, holding the shirt out to you.

You rolled your eyes with a huff. Then, deciding you wouldn’t let this be a one sided game, straightened your shoulders and looked Viktor in the eyes. 

“So, you like seeing me in your clothes?” You asked, tilting your head and furrowing your eyebrows slightly at him. 

He practically took a step back, startled by your change in demeanor. Before he could respond you pulled your shirt over your head, staring him in the face as you shook your hair out. He sucked in a hash breath, eyes wide and mouth open as he looked at you. He swallowed hard, gaze traveling across your torso and face turning pink. You couldn't help the childish pride as you watched him falter. 

“So the braless look this weekend was a style choice?” He joked with a nervous laugh, following the lines of your plain bra.

“Yep,” You reached out, trying to take the shirt from his hand, but he pulled it away again.

You followed, stepping closer as you tried to get it. Your hand followed it past his shoulder until he was close enough to land a hand on your bare waist.

“Viktor, give it to me.” You warned, as he kept the shirt out of your reach.

“Was this from me?” He breathed, completely ignoring your request as he brushed his fingers across the bruises on your hip.

“Duh, who else?” You snarked, freezing under his hand, “Very rude to leave marks on someone without asking, by the way.”

He scoffed, and pulled the collar of his shirt down to show a matching bruise on his collarbone, “You are one to talk.”

“Not my fault you bruise easy,” You shrugged, trying to keep your voice steady as he traced a line between each mark on your body. You shuddered when he pressed into his own teeth marks on your shoulder, deciding that was enough. 

You gave one last reach and snatched the shirt out of his hand, taking a few steps away from him. You squeezed your eyes shut with your back to him, willing every feeling in your body to stop. You focused your attention on the t-shirt, unfolding it to see it was an old camp shirt. Poradce was in small white letters on the left chest of the shirt, and the back had a logo of an atom and Sýkora printed across the back. You pulled it on, doing your best to hide any reaction to him giving you a shirt with his last name on it. 

“Science camp?” You asked, pulling your hair out from the neckline as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I was a counselor,” He told you, seeming to recover from whatever had just occurred, “Paid well and looks good on applications.”

“Fair,” you nodded at him, also feeling the tension ebb away.

“Plus, teaching children how to make small explosives is entertaining,” He admitted with a smile.

You laughed at the mental image, “You’ll have to tell Jinx about that, she will demand you teach her.”

“Hm, I believe that would make me an accomplice in whatever she decides to do with that knowledge,” He cringed, laughing with you.

“Uh, thanks again for the shirt,” You said,trying to fill the almost awkward silence.

“Of course. Sorry for making you talk about your mom, by the way,” He twisted his cane on the ground, “I feel bad about that.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” You placed your hand on his wrist, stopping his movement, “Really, it’s fine. Not your fault that I get a little crazy whenever I think about her.”

“Yeah, well now I know not to ask you about things like that when you have a knife in your hand,” He laughed, “I’m lucky you didn’t stab me.”

“Next time I will,” You raised your eyebrows with the light threat. 

You wondered if you were looking up at him the way he was looking down at you, pupils blown, cheeks dusted a pretty pink, lips slightly parted. You opened your mouth to say something, not anything in particular just something to keep him looking at you. Before you could think of something to say that wouldn’t make you sound unintelligent, movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. 

“Is that a snake?” You gasped, stepping around him to get a better look. 

The large tank was set around the corner of his L shaped room, just out of sight from where you were standing. A small pink snake was moving across a branch leaning against the glass. You crouched down, looking at her through the glass. She was young and a pale pink color, her eyes the bright red that animals with albinism have. 

“That’s Rio,” He said, walking up next to you and crouching down to look at her.

“She’s gorgeous,” You smiled at the snake, moving to get a better look at her, “Is she young?”

“Yeah, she hit four months a couple days ago,” He told you, you could see him watching you in the reflection, “Do you want to hold her?”

“Can I?” You felt like a kid.

“Yeah, of course,” He laughed, straightening up and moving to the front of her tank, “She’s very sociable, likes to be held.” He opened the tank from the front, sliding the glass open. 

Slowly he reached in, “Pojď sem,” He muttered, coaxing her out and into his hand. She moved calmly across his hands, looking around as he brought her to his chest. He smiled down at her fondly, as she moved across his shirt. He motioned you closer with a free finger, using his other hand to steer her away from his face.

“She’s so pretty,” You marveled, taking a closer look at the pattern on her back, “Is she a corn snake? I’ve never seen a snake this color before.”

“Yeah, she’s a salmon snow corn snake. It’s a gene mutation,” He explained, pulling her off his glasses, “A homozygous red factor that makes her very pink, she’ll probably get more color as she gets older. You can pet her, she’ll probably crawl into your hands when she realizes you're there.”

“So cool,” You breathed, reaching out for her. 

Gently you brushed your hand against her back, her smooth scales were warm under your fingers. She turned her head towards you, slowly moving to your palm. Viktor helped her into your hands, holding on until she was cradled against you. She immediately wrapped herself around your wrist, and wriggled up the borrowed shirt.

You laughed, letting her move towards your face. She bumped against your cheek, tongue flicking out curiously, “Sorry Rio, no glasses to chill on.”

You pulled her away from your face, watching as she moved between your hands and around your arms. 

“She likes you,” He told you. You raised an eyebrow at him not convinced, “No, really, she has a lot of personality for a snake. Very selective on who she decides to like.”

“Yeah, I’m sure me wearing your shirt has nothing to do with it,” You rolled your eyes, grinning up at him.

“Just let me compliment you, okay?” He huffed, reaching out to pet Rio.

“Fine, I’lll accept that I’m your snake’s new favorite person,” You joked.

“Hey, I don’t know about favorite,” He backtracked with a laugh, smirking down at you. 

He was as close as you could be to you without squishing Rio between your bodies. Hand under yours, to support the pet of course, no other reason. In this moment - wearing his t-shirt, in his room, holding his pet, sharing his space - you knew for a fact that he was going to cause a lot of trouble in your life. 

The sound of people arriving in the house pulled you away from the thought

“Viktor!?” Jayce shouted from the living room.

“In here!” He called back, not looking away from you. You looked back down at Rio, watching her in an attempt to hide the heat in your face.

“Oh, hey guys…” Jayce said, a hint of confusion in his voice as finding you arguably very close to Viktor in his room.

“She’s meeting Rio,” Viktor told him, taking a step back so you could turn to face Jayce.

“She’s so cute,” You told him, turning to show the small snake in your hands.

Jayce grimaced, “Yeah, sure.”

“No fucking way you don’t like her,” You gasped a his distaste.

“I’m sorry,” He shrugged, “I don’t understand the appeal of a predatory reptile.”

“Did you just call this actual angel a predator?” You gawked, carefully holding Rio up towards him.

“That’s exactly what it is,” He affirmed, “Your tea is on the counter, did you finish making the pico?”

“Rude,” Viktor muttered, gently taking Rio from your hands, holding her up to his face and telling only her, “You are not a predatory, moje malá princezna.”

“Not yet,” You waved your bandaged hand at him as Viktor placed Rio back in her tank, “Little mishap.”

“Jesus christ, are you okay?” He asked as you and Viktor walked out of the room.

“I’m fine, just dramatic,” You admitted with a laugh, grabbing the matcha Jayce had brought for you and handing the other to Viktor.

“Very dramatic,” Viktor agreed, side eyeing you as he took a sip of the tea.

“Hm, wanna finish it up while I get everything else ready?” He said, eyeing the lack of space between your shoulder and Viktor’s.

“Yeah, for sure,” You took a step away, hating yourself over the fact that you missed the  rush of being close to him.

“Cait’s home, by the way,” Viktor told Jayce, hanging his cane on the counter and settling back into one of the stools where his book was, “With Vi.”

“Oh cool,” Jayce pulled what he needed out of the fridge to assemble the tamales, “Mel said she’s on her way with Lest and Sky.”

“Good,” You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek and reminding yourself that Sky was a friend that you loved very much and you weren’t allowed to have an ounce of animosity towards her, “Should be done pretty quick.”

You pulled the bowl of chopped chiles and onion out of the fridge and gathered tomatoes to cut. One short.

“In the dishwasher,” Viktor said, watching you from across the counter.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“The serrated knife is in the dishwasher,” He told you, more caring than mocking when he said, “Don’t use a flat blade.”

“Thanks,” You pulled the knife out of the dishwasher and hand cleaned it in the sink before starting to dice the tomatoes. A much easier task with the proper tool.

You were normally more than comfortable in Jayce’s presence, but right now you felt less welcoming. You wanted to be around just Viktor. You wanted to talk to him however you wanted, about whatever you wanted. You didn’t want to create space between you and, for a moment, you resented Jayce for making you feel like you needed to.

All bad signs. You turned Viktor down. You didn’t want to date him. You didn’t want to sleep with him. You didn’t want to kiss him. 

All lies. You could do all those things right now if you let yourself. You wouldn’t though. Letting yourself get tangled in relationships with a classmate caused nothing but problems for you in the past. It was the one agreement you made with yourself, you had to be strong enough not to break it.

“You’re going to cut yourself again,” Viktor’s calm voice pulled you out of thought, he was barely even looking up at you over the rim of his glasses, eyes flickering down to the knife dangerously close to your fingertips. He raised an eyebrow, a silent question. You hated how readable you apparently were.

You set the knife down on the cutting board, staring down at the seeds and flesh. You heaved a sigh, picked up the board, and moved to the other side of the kitchen. Facing away from Viktor. You couldn’t see him, he didn’t say anything, but you could feel his eyes on your back. You swallowed hard, hating the feeling of being pulled in two conflicting directions.

---

You kept your distance for the rest of the evening, deciding that the acceptable quota of time to be close to him in one day had been used up. Viktor didn’t question you aside from a few narrow eyed looks that you ignored, opting instead to ask Jayce to play music while you and him started the cooking process.

When the girls showed up, it was easier. Lest took up your attention, excitedly telling you about a baseball player she was paired up with in her history class - dumb as a rock, but pretty as all hell - and worried over your hand. Sky squeezed herself into Viktor’s bubble, sitting close to him at the counter. You heard her apologize for being drunk on Friday night, he laughed it off. Called it cute. Luckily, Sky did her best to absorb all of his attention. She made awkward small talk with him, not wanting their somewhat boring conversation to end. It kept you from thinking about him all afternoon…clearly.

At the very least you had managed to avoid his physical presence until after dinner. He sat between Jayce and Sky on one end of the table, while you were at the other. He washed dishes in the kitchen and you wiped down the table in the dining room. You helped Cait set up the living room and he helped Jayce connect his laptop to the TV.

It wasn’t until the movie was decided on and everyone began settling down into the living room that an afternoon of self restraint came to an end.

Of all the space in the living room, Viktor decided the only place he wanted to sit was directly next to you. Something that seemed like nothing to anyone else, including Sky who took up his other side. You didn’t miss the look Lest gave as she sat down on your other side or the way Viktor knocked his knee against yours with controlled force. 

“You like horror movies?” He asked you casually, as if you hadn’t kept him at farther than arm's length for the past couple of hours. 

“Yeah, good ones.” You told him with a shrug as the opening credits to The Descent started. 

“What constitutes a good one?” He raised an eyebrow, closer to you than you had planned to let him.

“If I like it, then it’s good,” You shrugged, pulling your foot under you.

“Hm, interesting criteria,” He laughed, rolling his eyes at you as everyone else settled into their seats 

He didn’t push. Didn’t rest a hand against you or move an arm over your shoulder. He let you exist in peace, your bubbles pressed close but not breached. You managed to reach out to Lest during jump scares, holding on to her hand when your heart jumped. A few times when he flinched you saw his hand hover near yours, just for a second, before he placed it against his braced knee. He picked at the fraying edge of one of the velcro closures, fingers flexing whenever the tension raised on screen. 

It wasn’t until a climbing rope was ripped through one of the girls' hands on screen that you gave in. The shot of blood spurting dramatically from her palm made your stomach turn. You gasped and instinctually looked away, pressing your closed eyes against Viktors arm as you cringed. He grabbed your knee then, squeezing gently.

“It’s over,” He whispered close to your head after a moment.

You took a deep breath and looked back up, the image gone from the screen. He retreated his hand from your knee as you relaxed back into watching. Not long after this, Jayce paused the movie, standing up and stretching his back.

“All right, intermission or I’m gonna piss myself,” He said, leaving to use the bathroom.

“Booo,” Vi whined, chucking a pillow at his back as he left. Cait giggled and placed a hand over her girlfriend's mouth.

Lest leaned her head on your shoulder, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes, “Grab me my water bottle?”

“Brat,” You pushed her off, but stood up anyways, “Where is it?”

“In my bag on the hook,” She called after you as you went to get it. 

A few of the others hopped up to grab things or readjust how they were sitting. When you handed Lest her water bottle and settled back down into your seat, you felt like you had less space. You couldn’t tell if the cramped feeling was in your head or not, and you decided to ignore it. You pulled your leg back up underneath you and ended up resting the edge of your knee on Viktor’s thigh. 

“So, is this a good horror movie based on your criteria?” He asked, not reacting to the contact.

“Eh, hard to say,” You told him with a shrug, “So far it’s good, but it definitely loses points for that rope vs hand situation. Plus, it’s not over. The last, like, twenty minutes are make or break for a horror movie.”

“You’ll have to give me your official opinion at the end,” He said, tapping your knee.

“Don’t worry, Viktor,” Lest said, leaning over you towards him, “She’ll give everyone her opinion when it’s over, she always does.”

“What?” You gasped at your roommate.

“It’s true, you make your opinion very known,” Cait said, standing in front of the couch with her digital camera, “now, smile!”

You flipped her off when the camera flashed. When Jayce got back, everyone settled back in to finish the movie. At some point, you weren’t sure exactly when, but Viktor’s hand found yours in the space created by your knee propped against his thigh. He didn’t react at all, there was no outside sign to anyone else that he was sliding his cold fingers against your palm. You weren’t sure he even knew he was doing it, not until you laced your fingers with his. He took a deep breath, easily playing it off as a reaction to the movie, but you could feel his pulse quicken when you squeezed his hand gently. You stayed like that the rest of the movie, hardly able to focus on anything that was happening on screen with the weight of his hand in yours.

---

On the drive home, you were sure lest was going to explode. She sat in the passenger seat of your tiny pickup truck, practically vibrating as you drove back to campus. Sky leaning against the window in the backseat sleepily. A few times she almost asked. You could see her from the corner of your eye, leaning in, biting at her nail, mouth opening to say something and closing it before she could. 

As soon as Sky was out of earshot, up the steps towards her own dorm building, Lest stopped holding back.

“Did you fuck him again?” She hissed, throwing you off balance as she latched onto you

“Jesus Christ Lest,” You grimaced, shoving her off, “No, why would you think that.”

“Because he wouldn't stop looking at you like you’d given him the best head of his life,” She told you matter of factly.

“Okay, first of all, no he wasn’t,” You scoffed, “And second, I told you I turned him down. I’m not planning to go back on that anytime soon.”

“Okay, so you're blind, good to know,” She said, tapping her ID and holding the door open for you, “And does not anytime soon mean sometime in the future?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” You pulled your ears to your shoulders, stomping up the stairs.

“Whatever you say,” She sang as you reached your room. You groaned and dropped yourself face down into your bed, “But I’m not the one wearing his last name on my back."

You stiffened, forgetting about the shirt you were wearing. She had you there, for sure. You realized you hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. You wondered what they thought. If anyone even noticed. You hoped that they had come to the correct conclusion that your shirt was a casualty in the hand accident. Jayce and Cait and Vi were the only ones that knew you were alone with him. The two girls did find you clinging on to him like your life depended on it, and Jayce had found both of you in Viktor’s room. You debated if it was worth it to clarify to the three of them that you and Viktor were not fucking. Then again, if they weren't already thinking that was the case, it would sound very suspicious for you to bring it up.

“I’m gonna go shower,” She told you, gathering her things, “No masterbating while I’m gone.”

   “Ew, lest shut the fuck up,” You groaned, flinging a pillow at the door as it closed. 

You rolled over in bed, staring up at the ceiling and rubbing the hem of the shirt between your fingers. You had two of his shirts, and now that you were thinking about it, he had two of yours. You gave in to the urge and pulled the neckline of the borrowed shirt to your nose. Unsurprisingly it smelled like him. When you closed your eyes you could picture yourself standing back in his bedroom, as close to him as you wanted to be. The smell of honey and black tea and orange filled your head, an underlying scent of something that was just him. Human and warm and soft. 

You pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes, willing away the thoughts of him. You grabbed your phone, hoping for a distraction. You had barely even unlocked it when an Instagram notification sprung up. 

kirraman.cait has tagged you in a post 

You opened the app to see that Cait had posted the photos she took on her digital camera. They were cute, all time stamped from just a few hours ago. There was a barely focused selfie of Cait and Vi with their cheeks pressed together, and a picture of Jayce, Ekko, and Jinx in the kitchen finishing the tamales, and a few other cute ones that you were going to ask Cait to send you. The last one was of You, Lest, and Viktor sitting on the couch. It was the moment that you had flipped her off, an unamused look on your face as both Viktor and Lest laughed. 

He was tagged as well. You stared at the little its_viktor hovering over his head in the photo. You chewed on your lip, debating. It was just social media. It would be weird if you weren't friends online, honestly. You click on his profile, grateful that it was public. Only ten posts and about as many followers as accounts he followed. You clicked on the newest one, a mirror picture of him in his bathroom holding up Rio, no caption but the photo was also his profile picture. 

You kept scrolling, there was at least four months between posts, sometimes even a whole year, and most were captionless. One of the few to have a caption was him in a hospital bed, looking fresh out of a surgery and giving a weak thumbs up. The caption read ‘Žil jsem, děvko.’, you snorted when the translation told you it said ‘I lived, bitch.’ in english. The rest were fairly simple. Photos of landscapes, the university he transferred from, a highschool graduation picture, some harmless device he made as a camp counselor, decorated with stickers and plastic gems by whatever kids he was working with. 

The very first one was your favorite. A selfie of the 17-year-old versions of Viktor and Jayce. Jayce was holding the camera with one hand and the other arm slung over Viktor’s shoulders, squeezing him close. Both boys beamed at the camera, looking younger than you could even imagine them being. You could tell they were wearing matching t-shirts, probably from the Young Innovators Program they had met in so many years ago. Jayce’s current instagram was tagged in it, and you were a little surprised that you had never come across Viktor’s page before. Maybe you had and just didn’t realize it. The blush across Viktor’s cheeks was endearing, seeing them so close together was sweet. Until today you hadn’t been in the same room with both Jayce and Viktor at the same time. It was a little jarring how different they were, both physically and in personality. In a way, it made sense that they were such good friends. 

You double tapped the photo without thinking. A white heart popping up over the photo for half a second. In the other half of that second, your heart dropped. 

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.” You muttered, unliking the photo and closing out the app. You dropped your phone on your chest and slung an arm over your eyes, “Fuck!”

Only a second went by before your phone vibrated. You were borderline crushed to see a text from Viktor. His number wasn’t saved in your phone yet, you had been putting it off after Jinx added you to the group chat, but you knew it was him

I saw that.

You debated blocking him, or maybe moving to another state.

I don’t know what ur talking about

You were never going to hear the end of this from Lest. 

Ya, sure you don’t.

Only a moment later and a new notification popped up on the top of your screen.

Its_viktor liked your photo

You clicked on the notification. It brought you to one of your posts from almost 3 years ago. It was one from your trip to Greece right after graduation. You were in the ocean, holding onto the side of a paddleboard with one hand with a small red octopus tangling around the other. Your cheeks were red enough to match the cephalopod, but you were smiling wide anyway. Aside from the notification there was no evidence that Viktor had liked the photo. 

You opened his profile back up, hit the follow button, and turned your phone off. You laid there staring up at the ceiling and wishing he had been rude about the incident. Of course he wasn’t. He was the perfect fucking lab partner, and he was going to haunt you all semester.

[inkedbydesire]

Can’t Let Go (Pt 3)

Jimmy Uso x Black Fem Reader

(Part 1)

(Part 2)

A/N: This is inspired by an Adele song called “Can’t Let Go.” Please give it a listen if you’ve never heard it. It will enhance your reading experience (I hope 😂).

Warnings: None

Summary: A single letter set everything in motion, and now, after two years, you're finally facing the man who shattered your heart. With only a few days to prepare you muster up the courage to face him. What happens when old wounds and festering emotions resurface after all of this time?

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: My consistency SUCKS but this is a filler chapter to let the people who are reading this story know that I’m still here no matter how long it takes. And I’m working on wrapping up Extortion too. Plus I have yet another Jimmy idea that I need to get off 😂 …… but I apologize in advance for any typos or grammatical errors I may have missed during my proofreading.

Sidenote: Adele’s “Can’t Let Go” inspires the overall story, but here are 4 more songs to describe Y/N’s feelings. Feel free to give them a listen if you want. I think it will enhance your reading experience (I hope).

Tagging: @empressdede @amandairene88 @mindairy

************************************************************************

Tuesday 8:17 p.m. Jon's New Number: I'll be there Friday. Just tell me when and where.

Wednesday 9:04 p.m. Jon's New Number: Y/N?

Thursday 11:27 a.m. Jon's New Number: I don't know why you haven't responded yet. But Y/N I'm not trying to pressure you or anything. I just hope you haven't changed your mind on me. Either way, let me know.

"You've already opened the can of worms. Ignoring him now would be pointless."

Jade's voice startled you, abruptly snatching you out of your thoughts. Through the chaos swirling around your head you hadn't even heard her come back from the bathroom, let alone creep up behind the couch to read over your shoulder. Reflexively, you hit the lock button on your phone, shutting out yet another one of Jonathan's texts. You had forgotten just how persistent he could be when he wanted something.

"Shut up, Jade. This is all your fault anyway," you muttered, your head sinking into your hands. The accusation was half-hearted, but your bubbling frustration needed a target, and Jade was an easy one. The perfect scapegoat so you didn't have to face the fact that you did this. Your eagerness to read Jonathan's letter set all of this in motion. And now you had to deal with the consequences of your actions.

Since receiving his "I'll be there Friday" text Tuesday night your thoughts had been a storm, and you had no idea how to quiet them. It wasn't supposed to happen this soon.

Jonathan wasn't supposed to be trying to see you this fucking soon.

"Girl, please. How is this my fault?" Jade asked as she flopped onto the couch beside you, crossing her legs underneath herself.

"When we talked about Jonathan the other day, I just said what you needed to hear—because you did need to hear it. But I didn't think you would go and contact him that same day and I damn sure didn't think he would drop everything to be on a plane three days later. I'm just as surprised as you."

"I know, Jade. My bad." You sighed, rubbing your temples as her words cut through your defensiveness.

"It's just that it was an impulse decision. After talking to you and then Josh, I decided that maybe I did need to have at least one conversation with him. And I knew if I didn't reach out that night, I never would. If I gave myself more time to think, I knew I would keep ignoring it and ignoring him like I've been doing. But I didn't think he'd want to meet up this fast. Hell, I didn't even think he would have the time to come out here this quick."

The realization hit again, sharp and heavy: Jonathan would be in Florida tomorrow.

Tomorrow?!?

Before everything hit the fan, you had known Jonathan for over ten years. And while in a relationship with him, you got to experience firsthand his relentless life as a pro-wrestler. The traveling, the grueling schedules, and the constant demands. So when you told him Monday night that if he ever found himself in Florida, you'd sit down and talk, it had been a calculated offer. You thought you'd have weeks, maybe even months, to prepare.

Not a few measly days.

You hadn't seen him in two years and now you were just supposed to be ready to see him tomorrow.

"He didn't waste any time, did he?" Jade's voice softened. "But honestly, Y/N, he's been waiting two years for a moment like this. I get his urgency. And I think, despite everything, you want to see him too. Otherwise, you wouldn't have reached out or even opened that letter in the first place. And I'm telling you this as your best friend not as a therapist. I know how much you hate it when I do that. "

You didn't respond allowing her words to sink in.

"And like I already told you I'm glad you read his letter," she continued, nudging you gently, "Look, I know this is quicker than you expected. But you can handle it. Ignoring him hasn't worked and you can't run from everything that reminds you of him for the rest of your life. Now it's time to face it."

You exhaled slowly and sat back against the couch cushions, looking over at Jade.

"You're right" you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I always am" she smirked, earning the first genuine smile you'd managed in days.

"See? Relax, Y/N. It's just Jonathan. He's not that special to be bothering you like this." Jade added.

Just Jonathan.

Just Jonathan, who you had been in love with since the first time he spoke to you in that hallway when you were sixteen.

Just Jonathan, who helped put the pieces of your heart back together after Trevor shattered it.

And Just Jonathan, who turned around and broke the heart he helped mend all over again. And now, somehow, you were supposed to look him in the eyes tomorrow.

You didn't know how you would manage it, but you would. You had to.

"Now let's figure out the when and where before that man loses his mind," Jade said bringing you back to the task at hand.

"It'll have to be here," you replied, gesturing vaguely to your apartment. You'd thought it over during the rare moments when you weren't internally spiraling.

"Here?" Jade raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah .... we can't talk in public..... not about this. Not with him being Jimmy Uso." The thought of navigating a private conversation in a public space with cameras and fans looming was impossible. You had no desire to even attempt it.

But Jade still looked skeptical.

"What?" you asked.

"I just don't think you should be alone with him after all this time. Suppressed emotions have a way of coming out in messy, unexpected ways. I don't want him to take advantage of your vulnerability."

"What you think I'ma end up in his arms or something?" you scoffed, the idea absurd. You didn't even like Jonathan as a person anymore or at least you didn't think you did.

There was no way you would let him anywhere near you.

"It's a possibility," she said, unflinchingly honest.

"Well I don't plan on that happening," you said firmly.

"People don't usually plan for moments like that. But promise me that you'll stand your ground. You're in control, Y/N. He's been waiting to talk to you for the last two years, not the other way around. Okay?"

"I hear you, Jade. I got it," you told her.

You had already mapped out your plan. You would take a sick day from work tomorrow cause you knew that you needed to devote that whole day to the Jonathan ordeal. Then you would spend the rest of the weekend that you thankfully had off recovering.

You had it under control.

"I got it." You repeated the words, but the more you said them, the more you realized you weren't just trying to convince her.

But still, as unwanted doubts slowly started to settle over you, you picked up your phone and texted Jonathan the address to your apartment and told him he could come by at 9. You had no idea when his plane would land, and you had no desire to ask. But 9 seemed like a reasonable time. It would give you both a chance to prepare for what was coming.

********************************************

Friday morning and afternoon arrived and slid past you in a surreal blur. You busied yourself with errands, cleaning, and futile tasks, desperately trying to keep your mind off the impending reunion. But no matter how hard you fought against it, the thought of seeing Jonathan crept back in during every quiet moment.

And his ceaseless text updates didn’t help. He kept you informed when he checked into the hotel and when he picked up his rental car, each message marking an unwelcomed reminder that he was on his way to you. You begged time to slow down, but before you knew it, the clock read 8:10 p.m. You were sitting at your vanity, staring at your reflection, an anxious storm brewing in your chest.

Jonathan's imminent arrival drew your attention to every detail about yourself. Your hair refused to cooperate; no matter how you adjusted your dress, it didn’t feel right. To make matters worse, you’d somehow convinced yourself to do your makeup, as if Jonathan deserved to see you at your best.

“What are you even doing?” you muttered in frustration, the reflection mirroring your inner turmoil.

Grabbing a makeup wipe, you scrubbed away the foundation, opting for simplicity, just a clear coat of lip gloss and nothing more. You weren’t going to make a special effort for him. Not after everything. Leaving your bedroom, you wandered into the kitchen, where the wine cabinet beckoned to you louder than it had all day. A glass or two might calm your nerves, but you stopped yourself. Emotions were already going to run high tonight, and you didn’t need alcohol amplifying them.

At 8:30, you sat on the couch to wait.

At 8:45, a message from Jade lit up your phone.

Jade 🤞🏾: Good luck, Y/N. I love you, girl. Remember, you’re in control.

By 9:00, your heart was racing. He would be here any minute.

By 9:15, you reassured yourself that it was okay if he was running a little late; you didn’t expect him to knock on your door at 9 on the dot.

But by 9:30, irritation replaced your nerves. After two years of silence and waiting, after flying all the way here, he had the audacity to be late?

By 9:45, the doorbell rang.

Once.

Twice.

Then three more times back to back like someone was leaning on it.

“What the hell?” you muttered, grabbing your phone and opening the Ring camera app.

It was him.

Jonathan hovered unsteadily in front of the camera, a bouquet of roses clutched in his hand, his broad shoulders just as solid as you remembered. As you took in his appearance, your heart twisted. Those familiar, handsome features were marred by glassy, unfocused eyes that told you everything you needed to know.

He was drunk.

The realization hit harder than you liked. That's why he was so late. He was getting drunk?

Two years. Two fucking years of unresolved issues, guilt, and heartbreak, and this was how he chose to show up? Wasted and late?

As you continued to stare at him through the camera, your emotions ricocheted between anger and disappointment.

He rang the doorbell again, swaying slightly as he adjusted the roses, which were now wilting in his grip. For a few seconds, you considered leaving him out there to stew in his own mess. He obviously didn’t care enough about you to show up sober, and part of you felt vindicated by the thought of refusing him entry. It would serve him right after all this time.

Yet the image of him stumbling back to his car in his current state pricked at your conscience. No matter how you felt, you couldn’t let him hurt himself or someone else—or scar his reputation further with another DUI.

So, against your better judgment, you approached the front door and swung it open.

You were too annoyed to say anything first so you and Jonathan stood in a taut silence, locked in a standoff. You glared at him like he was the last person on earth you wanted to see, and he gawked at you as if you were a figment of his imagination.

“You look good” he slurred into the silence his uncared for compliment falling on deaf ears as you just continued to stare at him.

“These… these are for you,” Jonathan thrusted the roses your way, nearly losing his balance. Then, as if something suddenly occurred to him, he fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a small jewelry box.

“And this,” he mumbled, his voice trailing off.

You took the items silently, your jaw clenched tightly as if trying to contain the flood of emotions threatening to spill. There were a million things you wanted to say, questions to ask, anger to unleash but looking at him now, words felt futile. He wouldn’t understand, not like this.

You hadn’t taken the time to imagine what a reunion with Jonathan would look like but this version would have never crossed your mind. He wasn’t a heavy drinker when you were together; a casual drink on a night out was the extent of it. Witnessing him using alcohol as an escape was not just disappointing but it also hurt your feelings in more ways than you wanted to admit. 

Now it was painfully clear that the conversation he had harbored for two long years couldn’t happen tonight. Not with him in this state. He ruined it. You two couldn’t discuss his cheating and your secret abortion with him like this.

But you still had to deal with him because you weren’t going to allow him to leave your apartment until he was sober.

“Jonathan… come in and sit down,” you pushed the anger aside, grounding yourself in the moment as you opened the door wider to grant him entry. He stumbled past you, knocking over a glass vase on the table, which shattered on impact, sending shards of glass cascading across the floor. You winced at the sound but swallowed the reaction, there was no room for that now.

“I'm sorry,” Jonathan muttered, glancing down at the wreckage he had made. He bent over, trying to gather the bits with unsteady hands, but before you could stop him, he stood back and winced. As you looked on you saw that a few jagged pieces of glass were now embedded in his palm, and your heart sank with unexpected and unwelcomed concern.

“Go sit down, Jon, and don’t move,” you instructed sharply, yet your tone held no anger, just deep and exhausting concern for the man you once loved. And still loved you would come to terms with if you gave yourself time enough to dwell on it. As he slumped onto the couch, you quickly rushed to the bathroom to grab your first aid kit. You placed the roses and jewelry box on the counter as you passed through the kitchen. You were confused about your feelings at this point but somewhere in you was compassion for Jonathan being physically hurt. That’s what you focused on the most.

When you returned to the living room, you settled beside him and reached out for his hand. Jonathan’s gaze roamed your face, searching for something, and he complied when you gently took his wrist. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself before using a pair of tweezers to remove the slivers of glass from his palm. You could still feel his eyes on you as you picked up a bottle of antiseptic, dampening cotton balls to clean the small cuts.

“Did you miss me at all, Y/N?” Jonathan’s sudden question caught you off guard, and you paused, just for a brief moment, while you continued bandaging him. But you quickly regained your composure.

“We’re not doing that right now,” you stated flatly, disregarding his question completely as you released his hand.

For a few agonizing minutes, the weight of the silence hung in the air. But then Jade’s words about you being in control came rushing back. With that, you knew you had to take charge of the situation. 

“Look, Jon, you’ve been drinking. I don’t know what possessed you to think showing up here like this was okay, but I don’t want to talk about anything with you right now,” you told him truthfully, your voice steady.

“ I don’t know… I’ll just… I’ll just leave,” he stammered, attempting to rise but you stopped him.

“You’re not going anywhere. First, you’re going to give me your keys,” you declared holding out your hand, unwavering. He dug into his pocket with his uninjured hand and reluctantly dropped the keys into your palm.

“Now you’re going to lay on this couch and sleep it off. I’m going to my room, and we can try this again in the morning. Do you understand me?” you asked, waiting for him to nod sluggishly.

Without exchanging another word with him, you stood to your feet, grabbing a broom and dustpan to clean up the mess he made while the silence between you was overwhelming. You didn’t know what was going through his mind, but you were relieved that even in his intoxicated state, he didn’t pressure you to talk. He seemed to understand that his arrival tonight was laced with disrespect, and deep down, you hoped he recognized how lucky he was that you hadn’t kicked him out.

By the time you retreated to your bedroom, it was only a little past eleven, but you felt utterly drained, knowing that this train wreck between you and Jonathan was just beginning.

You still had tomorrow to face. 

Part 4.1

[dollinrehab]

Sugary sweet

summary: You were supposed to go to a party tonight. Abby receives you at her home, though, crying about not having permission from your parents to go.

a/n: I'm so sorry for not posting but honestly I'm really really depressed since a few months ago and I cannot bring myself to do anything good or productive enough. I don't even think this passes my quality check but at this point and due to my inconsistency nobody will even remember I wrote fics once soo... Please enjoy or something :)

cw: implied age gap but not specified!

Abby laid down on her side, wet hair clinging to her skin and cascading down her neck and sprawling on her pillow, small droplets falling from her loose, golden hair onto the bedsheets and her pajamas like molten gold looking for a form in which to solidify.

It was 12 p.m. in a normal Friday night, which normally meant she could stay up to whenever she felt like it, go to bed anytime and mindlessly scroll down on her phone or read a book until she decided to turn all of her lights off, text you her usual good night message and drift off to sleep, her pillow being an one-way ticket to the land of dreams which you had took over and claimed as yours ever since you guys started dating.

But this was one of those nights. Those where you'd go out to some party and she'd be going to bed late without inviting anyone over or going out, where she wouldn't pay attention to her phone or get distracted with other simple activities because of her excessive worries, often finding herself fidgeting with her rings, adjusting her glasses, or eating fruits just because of her anxiety.

She loved you a lot, too much even but sometimes she didn't have enough stamina to be your company in parties, even if she really tried to attend with you almost always. She really didn't enjoy that lifestyle, mundane parties with shitty music and potentially dangerous people, but oh guess who does! Her girlfriend.

She feels lucky to have you, truly. It's not like she was planning on sleeping until you texted her you got home safe, but her mind started divagating somewhere far away from the book she held between her big hands and she just knew that, once again, she'd spent worrying over you at least until 4 a.m., maybe even after you texted her you were safe in your house. So she took off her glasses and placed the book down on her nightstand, signing loudly and preparing herself for another sleepless night.

You may be having fun in your friend's party, where you obviously invited her but she refused, knowing you'd most likely end up alternating your time between gossiping with your friends and clinging onto her while the others ignored her, which made her feel unwanted by them.

Maybe there was someone flirting with you and you were too drunk to tell them to stop. Maybe you were flirting with someone and tomorrow you'd call her like nothing talking to her about how much you hate hangovers. Maybe you were crying because someone was mean to you. Maybe you were doing something stupid. How could she know?

Her anxious thoughts were interrupted by the small sound coming from her window. It sounded like a small rock: there it was, your signature way of getting into her house. She didn't know why but everything about your behaviour was so sweet and dumb, just as any teenager but make it cute romantic comedy like. Everything you did was a small reminder of the small age gap between you two, which made her feel guilty every time.

She got closer to the window and saw you standing there with your eyes looking slightly red and swollen, as if you had been smoking weed, with your mini bag being clutched to your waist with one hand while the other waved at her. She quickly rushed downstairs, not even bothering to put her slippers on, and unlocked the door for you.

Luckily, her dad was out in the hospital so he wouldn't wake up by the sound of her feet pattering on the wooden floor or the tinkering of the keys or... Anything else you'd be doing.

When the blue eyed girl opened the door, she took in your appearance, noticing you had the same clothes that you had worn a few hours ago when you sent her nudes and a really thoughtful video. You told her that would be your outfit for the party, so why were you in her house if this hour wasn't even close to the one you usually would be going home?

Her orbs shamelessly fixed on you, and how couldn't they when taking you in felt so natural? After what felt like an eternity, Abby started functioning again and regained her speech. "Babe... What happened with the party?" She questioned.

"My parents didn't want me to go. So I escaped. Sorry for not telling you but they took my phone away." You explained, in that moment you felt so angry you were crying, something you were deeply ashamed of to be honest. Your voice was completely sweet towards her when you didn't talk about your parents, though. Abby cupped your face with her warm, big hands, noticing you hadn't been smoking anything. Your pretty eyes were spilling diamond tears.

"You'll stay with me tonight, honey." She reassured you. "I'm not driving you to that party, yeah?" You immediately smiled and hugged her, burying the side of your face in her god-sculptured chest and nuzzling your cheek against her. "I'll do as you say." You obeyed lovingly.

"I bet you prefer me over those parties, sweetheart." She replied with a soft smile.

"Of course I do. You're the best Abby, I love you so much and I'd choose you over anything, okay?" You reassured her, causing her to giggle at your directness. That kind of words often came out of your mouth by themselves, as always you praised her. As if you just quoted every love song you heard.

"Didn't you bring anything by the way?" She asked as she hugged you back, embracing you with her buff, juicy arms and picking you up.

"I brought my toothbrush, makeup and fifty dollars." You said, prideful of your improvised packing skills as she held you up to her body with one arm, using the other hand to close and lock the door.

"Pretty good." She nodded with approval, heading upstairs.

Last time you escaped home for something like this, you had brought your phone charger (your phone was taken), a bar of chocolate, your earphones (again, your phone was taken) and no money.

"I know." You smiled and placed a kiss in her clavicle. In Abby's room, she sat down as you straddled her, shifting so you were using her chest as a pillow as she laid on actual ones, staring down at you.

"You aren't really... Crying anymore." She commented, caressing your cheekbone as she observed the change in your mood.

"No. I stopped crying when you picked me up. Guess I was happy to see you." You confessed, kissing her cheek.

"Is that so?" She questioned with affection, caressing your hair.

"You know you heal my heart, Abby." You whispered before kissing her. It was velvety, wet, and sweet. Abby's lips were the cake to your sickly sweet frosting, joining together on a wet and tender kiss, intertwining your souls and tying them up together with an invisible string without even knowing it. That's just how you were.

[kurooandkenmasslut]

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐗 𝐅!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎: 𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏, 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝒃𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍, 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕? 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄'𝐒..

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿˢ ˢᵐᵘᵗ, ʲᵉᵃˡᵒᵘˢʸ, ⁿᵃⁿᵃᵐⁱ ⁱˢ ᵃ ˡⁱˡ ᵖᵒˢˢᵉˢⁱᵛᵉ, ᵍᵒʲᵒ, ᵃ ˡⁱˡ ᵒᵛᵉʳˢᵗⁱᵐᵘˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ, ⁿᵃⁿᵃᵐⁱ ᵗⁱᵉˢ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ, ᵖʳᵉᵍⁿᵃⁿᶜʸ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ& ˡⁱˡ ᵐᵃᵈ ⁿᵃⁿᵃᵐⁱⁿ 🥰 ʲˢ ᵃ ˡⁱˡ ᵈʳᵃᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵐʸ ᵇˢᶠ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ˡᵐᵃᵒᵒ & ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ⁱ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˣˣ

𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒, 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 & 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕:

𝐌𝐘 alarm rang out throughout the room, making me quickly shut it off before my wife, Y/N, the sleeping beauty, wakes up. she isn't much of a morning person.

slowly walking to the bathroom to freshen up, I thought about the work I'll have to do today. The soft bristles against my teeth was slowly waking me up. Washing my face, i recalled Gojo-san informing me yesterday on the mountain of work I'll have to do, making me groan for the reminder. The usual.

going back to the bedroom, I kissed y/n's forehead, putting the blankets over her body. The bakery she owns doesn't open until another hour or so.

having a little time for myself, I took out the loaf of bread sitting on the counter, freshly made yesterday by Y/n. Putting the soft bread into the toaster, I checked my phone to see gojo spamming me with useless messages

7:47 Gojo Sataru ■■■■ 96%

Gojo: hey buddy! do u think u could ask ur wife if she can make me some kikufifu 😇💘🥹🥰🔥 7:40a.m

plzzzzzz 7:40a.m

plzzzzzzz me beg 🙁🙁👿👿 7:41a.m

nanaminnn don't make me come over there!! 7:41 a.m

4 missed calls from

Gojo Sataru at 7:43a.m

You: no. don't call me or text me unless it's about work. She will not be making you anything. Get it from the shop. She's sleeping. Make sure to be there early. We have a meeting with Yaga at 8am sharp. If you miss it again there will be consequences. 7:47a.m

Gojo: but itadori told me she makes it goodddd

fine. I'll swing by her bakery later then.

And no promises! 7:47a.m

God. Gojo does take the whole cake by bringing annoying first thing.

After eating his toast, he then made a move for work, sighing as he got in the Jujustsu High doors.

𝐘/𝐍 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕:

𝐈 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 the sign, now reading "𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍" in green. I had just finished making the pastries. A few customers rolled in, making me put on a big smile, despite how tired I was. It was almost time for nanami to finish at the school. he did mention yesterday he'll come by to collect some bread and you.

A few hours roller past, One customer in particular, stood out. He was a tall man, broad shoulders, a black blindfold, white hair and that very familiar uniform.

He was familiar. Nanami showed me a picture of him and called him 'Gojo', also labeling him as 'annoying'. So this is the man flooding my husbands phone. Strange behaviour, I must say.

"Hiya! Good morning! What can I get ya?" I say, the usual phrase I use.

"Hey, do you make kikufifu?" Gojo asked, a grin sliding onto his face.

"Sure do! Just not at the moment though as I don't have it in today. Sorry about that! Can I get you something else?" I proposed, interlocking my fingers with a small smile.

"You're Nanamins's wife, right?" So he does know nanami. Interesting.

"Mhm! I'm assuming you are.. Goyo? Goko?"

"Its gojo.. but I can let silly mistakes slide for a pretty girl like you. Actually forget that. Call me satoru."

I smiled a bit. "Why thank you, Satoru. but seriously, what can I get you?" I asked, I really wanted to get this over with. Don't get me wrong, Gojo seems nice and he is attractive, but im not unfaithful, and I think nanami is cuter anyway...

"Eh, it's fine, I'll come in tomorrow for that mochi, sweet cheeks. Just worry about getting that kikufifu ready for me, just the way I like it. Little Baker girl." He smirked and ruffled my head.

Who does this man think he is? He just got confirmation that I am married, with his co-worker. My eye twitched in frustration, I can't get mad at my customers.

"Oi, what do you think you're doing, Gojo? Get your hands off my wife. I'd appreciate if you don't call her nicknames aswell." A familiar voice called out through the small bakery. A firm, slightly veiny hand clutched onto Gojo's shoulder. The hand had a very, familiar watch, the one you gifted to a certain someone.

Gojo chucked before turning around. A cheeky grin plastered on his face.

"I was just about to leave, no need to get your pants in a twist! I'll leave you two lovebirds at it yeah?" Gojo says, before waving his hand, still, with that still cheeky smile.

Nanami sighed. Now that Gojo was would of thr way, you could see Nanami's face. His perfectly plucked eyebrows was furrowed and his jaw was clenched. He gritted his teeth a bit. You weren't gonna lie, you rubbed your thighs together a bit.

"I'm sorry about him darling. He can- no.. is a menace. I'll talk to him when I get back to the school." Nanami muttered, plastering a kiss on your forehead. Your cheeks dusted a pink before you got the bread Nanami likes and out it on the counter.

Putting it in the bag, slipping in a few sweet treats, you handed him the bag and gave him a kiss on the lips. He wore a small smile.

"Thank you dear. You are only 𝑴𝒀 Baker girl, right?"

Some may think in an innocent way, some may think in a other way. And in this case, its the other way.

"Not only do you make things that taste good, you 𝑨���𝑺𝑶 taste good."

Cry. That's all you did. Big fat tears streamed down your sweet, little face. Running down and getting caught by the tie you're mouth is being muffled by.

You've came how many times these past few hours of the night? His mouth? His fingers? None. You practically scream into the tie as you feel yourself gonna cum soon. You're brain tried to think if he's gonna let you cum tonight at all.

"Mmh!" You screamed, your restrains around your wrists and ankled tight against the bed.

Nanami licked a slow, almost a teasing lick up your pussy, watching your every move. His strong hand pushed your arching hips while his other occupied with opening your legs even wider.

"You know, this is your punishment, right? You let that man touch you so freely, as if your husband wasn't standing behinf him. You should know for next time, yeah?" You screamed out a somewhat positive response, making his grin wider.

He took his tie out of your mouth, letting you have you chance to speak.

"Baby, let me cum! Please! I'm begging you!"

"Hmm.. why should I?" He asked. He then slithered his thick cock in the for the first time tonight, hitting your g-spot continuously.

You panted and moaned trying to get your words out. And you knew already, if you don't get it out now, you won't come at all tonight.

"P-Please! Mhh! Fuck- I.. I w-wont let him in my sh-hah... shop a-again! Please ken-toooo!" You managed to drag out.

"Tsk.. fine."

You were chasing your high while his one hand held your hips to cause a bruise, the other rubbed your clit. His hips moved like crazy. You knew you would have to use something to hold you upright tomorrow. But that's not something you thought or worried about right now. All you worried about was cumming.

"Mhh! S'too much, Ken! 'S too big!" You cried out.

"You can take it, like you always do yeah? Always say that.. yet you take me in beautifully."

Drool ran down your mouth like a crazed animal, but you didn't care. All you were seeing was stars at the back of your skull while nanami was chasing his high. You came, hard. You held on to the tie that's holding you down for support.

Nanami panted, sweat sliding down his face.

"Hah.. inside or.. outside?" He asked. Kids. You and Nanami have talked about kids before. You two had jobs, definitely financially stable for another being, you do have a few guests room, so none of that is stopping you.

So what is?

Nothing.

"Ins-side!" You cried out, nanami looked up, unsure.

"You sure?" He asked, massaging the spot where he bruised your hip.

"Yes!" That's was all he needed to release.

You both stayed where you were, both panting.

Nanami then pulled out, his cum oozing out. He grabbed the glass of water on the nightstand, handing it to you. You mumbled a 'thank you' to him before gulping it down. After getting set free from your bounds to the bed, you thought it was over. You really did. That was until nanami stated,

"Alright, all fours now. If you want a baby, you're getting stuffed to the 𝑩𝑹𝑰𝑴."

[moonhoures]

Kiss Me Thru The Phone

🕷️ kinktober — day 23: phone sex 🕸️

pairing: felix (stray kids) + reader (afab/fem)

genre: idol!au, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, phone sex, masturbation

word count: ~950

synopsis: sure, having an idol bf isn’t exactly ideal, and having phone sex with said bf at 4am is definitely less than ideal. but you make it work 👍🏻

a/n: sorry again for the delay. hope you guys enjoy 💋

posted: october 27, 2023

kinktober masterlist

Dialing . . .

That word taunted you for the third time as you waited for your boyfriend to answer the phone. He was several thousand miles away from you, in a different timezone, so he was just getting ready for bed. Meanwhile, you had set an alarm for 4 a.m. so that you could tell him goodnight. Though, that was starting to seem like it wasn’t going to happen as your third attempt to call him caught his voicemail. You decided then to give up. Maybe he already fell asleep, you thought as you let your phone fall back onto the empty space beside you where his body would usually be snoring softly.

But just as your eyes were closing, your phone buzzed. You picked it up, the lit-up screen showing his contact photo.

“Sorry I missed your call, baby. I was in the shower,” Felix said once you answered.

“S’okay, how was your show tonight?”

“It was fucking amazing. The fans were so loud and their energy was great all night,” you could picture the wide smile on his freckled face as he spoke. The thought made you smile.

“That’s awesome. I can’t wait to see your show in Australia soon.”

“Trust me, it’s all I’ve been thinking about. I haven’t been home in so long, and I can’t wait to have you meet everybody.”

“Not too much longer,” you reminded him. You let out a groan as you stretched yourself across the bed, and your boyfriend laughed softly.

“Tired?”

“Tired? Why would I be tired? It’s just four in the morning,” you replied sarcastically.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t be tired, but I understand. I’ll let you get some sleep, babe.”

“Wait, why’s that?” you asked, but you knew Felix well enough to know exactly what he meant.

“I just . . . miss you a lot. And I’ve got this room all to myself, unlike yesterday,” he explained, making your heartbeat speed up. Your body was heating up at just the thought of him, so you peeled the sheets back.

“You miss me?” you repeated, “How much, Lix?”

“A lot, baby. I’ve thought about you all day.”

“What have you been thinking about?” your hands moved over your body, fingertips gliding over your bare thighs and up your stomach. Your skin broke out in goosebumps.

“Coming home to you in a few days,” his voice was a little deeper than normal, the lust evident in his timbre, “Wanna spend every second with you.”

“You will,” you agreed, hands sliding under your shirt to cup your breast, “You can have me for as long as you want.”

“Yeah? Can’t wait to fuck you when I get home. Been dreaming about your pussy for weeks,” you swore you could hear his hand pumping his cock on the other end of the line. You instantly became wet at the mental image of him in some nice hotel bed, fisting himself to the thought of fucking you. Having his way with you in your bed, your scent filling his nose. Your lips on his. His hands holding onto you tight, wordlessly promising to not let you go anytime soon. “Are you touching yourself too, _______?”

“Yes,” you squeaked out, hand sinking under the band of your underwear to play with the space between your thighs. Your skin was slick under your touch, making it easy to rub and massage your sensitive clit.

“Good, get nice and wet for me. Can you do that?”

“Mhm,” you couldn’t focus on answering, you put it all into aiming for pleasure. You were in a rhythm now, and it felt good. Not as good as when Felix touched you, but it would do for the circumstances.

“I’m so hard right now,” he confessed, his breath becoming heavy, “All for you. Can’t stop thinking about how good you would feel around me. How tight you would be. How wet.”

“Felix,” you moaned, dipping your fingers into your hole, thrusting two of them in and out. You wondered if he could hear the sounds of it from his side, but you got your answer sooner than you thought when he let out a moan.

“Fuck, say my name again, baby.”

“Felix,” you cooed his name, legs fidgeting as the pleasure between them grew. You heard a faint disgruntled noise on the other end, and a smirk sat on your lips at the idea of him cumming from just you moaning his name. “It feels so good. Wish it was your fingers.”

A groan sounded from his end, “I know, baby, me too. Are you gonna cum?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, cum all over those pretty fingers. Let me hear you,” his voice came out breathlessly. You could tell he was close too. A few minutes passed and the sounds your boyfriend was making on the other end of the call were making you go crazy. Your body was buzzing with anticipation for an orgasm that was getting so close you could practically feel it already. Your muscles tensed and moans ripped from your throat.

Unbeknownst to each other, you both came at the same time. Your thigh twitched from the impact before your legs fell limp. Felix’s hand continued to milk his softening erection, now coated in his own cum. He was really thankful he decided to put a towel down just in case, because he did not want to have to face the hotel maids in the morning with such obvious stains on his duvet cover.

“That was a nice way to get to sleep,” he mumbled to you through his post-orgasm haze.

“And a nice way to wake up.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite @k-drizzle @iguanas-world

[love4nova]

NIGHT LIKE THIS

chapter one — a sticky situation

a certain webslinger suddenly shows up at your window.

a/n ; finally transferred the first chapter to here after months , it took a lot less work than i expected honestly

cw ; blood

wc ; 1.7k

nights like this masterlist | ao3 | general masterlist

What woke you was a soft fwip! against your window.

Checking the time on your phone, you saw it was almost 4 a.m. You had finally drifted off after a long week spent catching up on work and now you had been woken up again. Groaning, you glanced at your roommate Lumine's bed, only to find it empty. She wasn't even in the dorm. Great, no one to send to check the sound for you.

You sleepily dismissed the sound as one of your friends playing pranks again, most likely Hu Tao, who loved trying to trick you into thinking your dorm was haunted. The persistent fwip! at your window made you sigh loudly. Whoever it was wasn't giving up. Annoyed, you reluctantly climbed out of bed, shivering as you left the warmth of your blankets. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes, you shuffled toward the window.

Looking outside, you saw... nothing. No Hu Tao with a smirk on her face, no prank setup, nothing but the star-filled night sky. You rolled your eyes and muttered to yourself under your breath before yanking the window open.

With annoyance clear in your tone (and a hint of fear that whatever may have been knocking on your window might've actually been something dangerous), you spoke out. "Hu Tao, it's not funny! I'm trying to sleep!"

“Sorry for waking you then."

That definitely wasn't Hu Tao's voice. It was smoother, softer, and... slurred?

You froze, every nerve in your body firing at once as your eyes adjusted to the figure standing on the ledge outside your window.

Spider-Man.

Your hands flew to your mouth in shock. Spider-Man. The Spider-Man. You'd only ever seen him on TV or swinging through the city streets, but now he was right here. Up close, it was impossible to miss how disheveled he looked. His suit was torn in multiple places, revealing deep gashes and streaks of blood. He swayed slightly, slurring his words as he asked, "Can I come in?"

Heart pounding, you nodded quickly, stepping aside. The moment his feet hit the floor, he stumbled, and you instinctively reached out, gripping his arm to steady him. His body was solid beneath your hand, even though you half expected him to just disappear the second you touched him. He sank into the desk chair with a heavy exhale, leaning back, his head tipping slightly to the side.

Pushing your questions aside, you hurried to the shared bathroom, grabbing rubbing alcohol, towels, and gauze. When you returned, he was slumped against the chair, barely conscious.

"Um... I have some supplies to clean your wounds. Is it okay if I...?" you asked hesitantly.

He gave a faint nod. You pressed a towel soaked with alcohol to a gash on his abdomen, and he hissed, jerking slightly at the sting. "Sorry," you muttered, trying to be gentle.

As you cleaned each wound, Spider-Man seemed to regain some consciousness. When it came time to apply the gauze you hesitated. "To wrap these properly, you'd have to take off your suit."

His lips quirked up faintly despite the exhaustion. "You're not gonna take me out to dinner first?" He asked, a playful lilt in his tone. When you hurried to try and explain yourself he chuckled lighlty, "Relax. I think I can do this part myself, though."

“Right, of course! I'll just—uh—wait in the bathroom. Knock when you're done." You fled to the bathroom, mortified at how awkward you sounded, and sat with your back against the door.

Now that you had a moment to breathe, your mind raced with questions. Why had Spider-Man come to your window? Of all places, why here? You'd never met him before. Maybe your dorm was just nearby, and he was desperate for help. That had to be it—convenience.

Minutes ticked by, and you started to worry. It shouldn't take this long to apply gauze. What if he'd passed out? "Spider-Man? Are you okay?" you called through the door. No response.

"I'm coming out on the count of ten! Be decent!" You announced before counting down, but still no reply. You crossed your fingers, hoping he still had his suit up to atleast he waist if he did passed pass out and opened the bathroom door.

The dorm was empty.

The towel, rubbing alcohol, and gauze were neatly stacked on the desk. Beside them was a torn piece of notebook paper with a hastily written note: "Thanks for letting me in and sorry for waking you. Stay safe, and get some sleep!" A small doodle of his mask and a smiley face decorated the corner.

You stood there in stunned silence, the note clutched in your hand. Spider-Man had been here, in your dorm—and now he was gone almost as soon as he came.

. . .

The morning after events that transpired only a few hours earlier, you wandered around aimlessly. You were tired and out of it but you couldn't fall asleep after what had happened, the events replaying in your head on repeat like a broken record. Spider-Man. In your dorm. Injured. And then gone, with nothing left behind except a note to prove he had even been there at all. You could almost convince yourself it was a dream if it wasn't for the neatly folded towel and the faint scent of rubbing alcohol that lingered in your room.

Still, life moved on. You took a sip from your coffee as you continued your walk before you spotted Kazuha.

You had seen him around campus before and he was a barista at the campus' café. You never really interacted with him outside of when you'd order a coffee every morning, since he seemed to be one of the only baristas who worked the morning shift. (Which didn't really make sense to you since the morning was when the café was the busiest.)

Kazuha had this vibe that made you a bit nervous to even try to talk to him outside of when you'd see him in the morning. You had to gather courage to even say hello in passing. Not that he seemed rude, or like he didn't want anybody to talk to him, he seemed quite the opposite actually.

He was always kind, he'd always smile at people, he wouldn't hesitate to help you if you looked like you needed help, and based off the descriptions you heard of him from your mutual friends, he really liked poems. He was obviously a really good person, and for whatever reason that made you nervous.

So yeah, to put it bluntly, you were intimidated by Kazuha.

But today was different.

His usual calm stride seemed a little slower, a little stiffer. He had long sleeved loose fitting clothes on and he'd occasionally wince, you werent sure at what.

"Hey, Kazuha!" You called, your voice a little shakier than you intended.

He turned his head to look over at you, his eyes meeting yours. For a short moment his expression was unreadable before his lips curved into a small, polite, smile.

“Good morning." He said softly. His voice was smooth and calm, like it always was, despite the clear exhaustion on his face.

You caught up to him, falling in step beside him. You hoped he wouldn't think it was strange, since you've never really had a full conversation with him. "You okay? You look a little... tired. And you weren't at the café today."

"Hm? I didn't think you'd notice I was gone," Kazuha said, amusement and surprise swimming in his eyes, "I accidentally overslept. I just woke up an hour ago."

You paused, the words not quite adding up in your head. He seemed... off. You didn't want to call him out on it, but something about his explanation didn't sit right with you. "Oh? Overslept, huh?" You gave him a half-hearted smile. "That's... interesting."

Kazuha met your gaze, an indecipherable look on his face. "It's true," he said, his tone almost too smooth. "I suppose I'll just have to get a better alarm clock next time."

You didn't push it. Partly because you didn't really know him well enough to accuse him of lying, but also because you didn't want to sound like you were interrogating him. And besides, he didnt seem like the type to lie about something like that. You could never imagine someone like Kazuha lying about something so trivial.

It was quiet between you for a moment, the sounds of the campus filling in the awkward spaces. Kazuha cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

"If that's all, I should get to my lecture," he said, eyes glancing toward the path ahead. "Unless... you want to walk me there?"

You hurried to find your words. "Oh—uh, no! It's fine, really. I have to head back to my dorm, get ready for my own lecture." You waved awkwardly, hoping you didn't look like you were weird (even though you knew you definitely looked like you were weird). "You know, notes and stuff."

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring, and you swore you could hear the tiredness in it. "Alright, then. Take care." He said, waving before turning to head toward his class.

You quickly walked away, trying not to feel too awkward about the whole interaction. The entire conversation had felt... strange. The way he'd downplayed the whole situation, like nothing had happened when something clearly did, didn't sit right with you. But, for now, you let it go.

Kazuha, on the other hand, let out a quiet sigh once he was out of your view. The weariness from staying up all night was beginning to take its toll. He had told you he overslept but the truth was he hadn't slept at all. He felt bad lying but he didn't want to burden you with his problems. You already had enough to worry about with Spider-Man. Plus, he didn't want to accidentallt reveal something he isn't supposed to.

So, for now, he'd let you at least pretend you believed the oversleeping excuse. It was easier that way.

[not-yuyu]

REFLECTIONS | In-Ho

Warning(s): Angst and mentions about suic1de, in-ho being smarter than he appears

Chapter two | Part 1 in my profile

Staring at the ceiling seemed like the only thing I could do to keep myself from getting lost in my thoughts. The first ray of sunlight hadn’t yet appeared, but I was more awake than ever, eyes fixed on the darkness as the silence of dawn wrapped around me.

4:39 a.m.

Jun-Ho would be leaving for Tokyo tonight. I wouldn’t see him for nine long months. The idea of his absence weighed on my chest like a stone. How was I supposed to come home from work and not find him there? The night he told me, we argued almost until morning. I raised my voice, I yelled, I begged, but there came a point when I realized it was useless. What good was it to ask him not to go if he was going to leave anyway?

I couldn’t stop him. His job was important to him, he loved it, and I couldn’t be the reason he gave up what made him happy.

That’s why I was here now, awake when I should’ve been sound asleep. I clung to his bare chest as if it were the only thing keeping me grounded. His calm breathing comforted me and hurt me all at once, because I knew he’d be far away soon. I didn’t want time to move forward. Every passing minute felt like a thief stealing what little I had left of him.

My fingers moved slowly across his face. I caressed his cheeks, traced the curve of his nose, even the little lines that appeared at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. It was like I was trying to carve every detail into my memory, even though I already had them memorized. I leaned in and left a kiss at the corner of his lips, so soft it barely touched him. Then I returned to my place, still wrapped around him, wishing with all my strength that his boss would call right now and cancel that damn investigation.

—The light from my phone screen lit up slightly, brightening the room. I picked it up carefully, trying not to wake him, and checked what it was.

In-Ho:

Sorry to bother you

at this hour, I can’t sleep.

My brother’s leaving

tonight, right? Do you know

what time his flight is?

I quickly started typing my response.

Me:

Good morning, In-Ho.

Jun-Ho’s flight

leaves in the afternoon,

he needs to be at the airport

by 6:00 p.m.

Are you planning to see him off?

Jun-Ho began to stir beside me. I thought of turning off my phone so I wouldn’t wake him, but In-Ho was already typing again.

In-Ho:

I didn’t think you’d

be awake, sorry.

And yeah, I do plan to

say goodbye. You don’t

mind if I come too, right?

You might want

a moment alone with him.

Me:

In-Ho, of course

I don’t mind hahaha.

We’ll be at the

international terminal.

In-Ho:

Got it, captain.

I laughed at the nickname, and as soon as I set the phone down on the nightstand, Jun-Ho’s eyes began to open. The first ray of sunlight slipped through the curtains, softly lighting up his sleepy face.

I smiled instinctively, as if that small gesture could hold back the weight I felt in my chest. I leaned in and began covering his face with kisses, one after another, while he smiled with his eyes still closed, enjoying the moment.

“Good morning…” he murmured with a rough, sleepy voice. I, on the other hand, pouted slightly.

“They’re not such good mornings, sweetheart,” I gently reminded him. He opened his eyes just enough to look at me with tenderness before his smile slowly faded.

“Ah… that’s right…” he said, as if he’d just remembered the truth. His expression shifted, and a sigh slipped from his lips. “Damn, I’m going to be so miserable without you.” His words carried a weight I couldn’t ignore, and I could only look at him, a grimace forming on my face.

“You’re leaving anyway.” That phrase echoed in my head like a mantra. I had to remind myself, as if repeating it would ease the pain of his departure.

“Will you really miss me?” I asked rhetorically, but didn’t wait for an answer. In one swift motion, he flipped me onto my back and lay on top of me, carefully balancing his weight so he wouldn’t hurt me.

“Uhm, I don’t know. Do I look like someone who won’t miss you?” he joked before covering my face with kisses, mimicking what I had done just minutes earlier.

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. His warmth, his laughter, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered... it was something I was going to miss more than words could say. But even as I laughed, a part of me knew these were the last moments of our marriage for a long while.

Honestly, I don’t know how I’m going to survive without him.

At least I thought In-Ho would be around to keep me company.

The day was passing at a pace that felt cruelly fast, as if time itself were conspiring against me. I wanted with all my being to stop the clock, to freeze this moment, to avoid the inevitable outcome. I didn’t want to watch him close his suitcase, place it by the entrance of our apartment, or say goodbye to our cat, stroking its soft fur with that tender gesture he always used.

As Jun-Ho carefully packed his belongings into his bag, my eyes settled on the photograph from our wedding that adorned the living room shelf. There we were, smiling and happy, wrapped in a joy so pure it now felt almost unreachable. I clung to that memory, desperately wishing to return to that day, to that version of us that knew nothing of separation.

I know. My reaction might seem exaggerated, as if I were preparing to bury him. But in three years of marriage, we had never been apart for so long. And while I tried to convince myself that I could handle it, my fear wasn’t for me. It was for him.

"I'm done, honey. I'm ready." Jun-Ho’s voice broke the silence, followed by the sound of his bag's zipper closing.

I lowered my gaze, unable to meet his eyes without tears threatening to fall. My hands trembled slightly as I tried to hold onto my composure, though it kept slipping through my fingers.

Jun-Ho, always so perceptive, quickly noticed my inner struggle. With a soft laugh that tried to ease the tension, he came closer to me. His warm hands cupped my cheeks with a gentleness that completely disarmed me, forcing me to look at him. Before I could say anything, his lips brushed against mine in a soft kiss, almost as if he were trying to seal the promise of our reunion.

“Don’t be sad, sweetheart.” His laugh was a balm that barely eased my sorrow. “We’ll have video calls every weekend, we’ll still go on dates, even if they’re long-distance, and I’ll call you every day. I’ll never stop telling you everything.”

“You know it’s not the same.” My voice came out broken, heavy with a truth I didn’t want to accept.

“No, it’s not,” he admitted with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But it’s better than nothing, don’t you think?”

His optimism, though well-meaning, drew a dry laugh from me. Nodding reluctantly, I accepted his logic. What else could I do?

During the drive to the airport, my heart waged a constant battle against my emotions. I tried harder than ever not to fall apart, but the pressure in my chest grew with every kilometer that brought us closer to his departure. Since I left the military, I’d become more fragile—both physically and emotionally. Before, situations like this barely affected me, but now... now loneliness was a monster I was terrified to face.

“Think about it this way—if I finish the case early, I might be back sooner than expected,” Jun-Ho said, trying to cheer me up as I held back a heavy sigh.

“Jun-Ho…” I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “If they gave you nine months, it’s because the case isn’t simple. I’d be surprised if they don’t end up extending your stay.”

“Are you doubting your husband’s skills?” he replied playfully, trying to get a smile out of me.

“A little, yeah.” I admitted, though my tone was still affectionate. Jun-Ho was excellent at his job, but his noble heart often led him to questionable decisions—decisions that, in his effort to protect others, complicated everything.

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.” His laugh was light, but I could see the sparkle in his eyes. “Now I’m even more motivated to work hard and surprise you by coming back in three months.”

I forced a smile, though we both knew that was unlikely.

The airport appeared on the horizon, and my body tensed instinctively. I couldn’t stop the anxiety from taking hold until Jun-Ho, distracted by a notification on his phone, spoke again.

“Ah, In-Ho already got to the airport. He says he’ll be waiting at the main entrance.”

I felt a brief moment of relief. At least I wouldn’t have to say goodbye to him alone.

“I’ll find parking.” Jun-Ho calmly adjusted the wheel. “Let him know we’ve arrived.”

With trembling hands, I took out my phone and searched for In-Ho’s name in my contact list, grateful I wouldn’t have to bear the weight of this farewell entirely on my own.

As soon as we crossed through the entrance gate, In-Ho pulled his brother into a strong, affectionate hug. The intensity of the gesture brought an immediate smile to my face. There was something comforting about seeing such a solid bond between them—a reminder that even in difficult moments, family love could hold us together.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving for so long,” In-Ho murmured, his voice tinged with melancholy, though he tried to keep his composure.

Jun-Ho let out a soft laugh, shaking his head lightly. “Please, don’t cry like Soo-Jin,” he joked, throwing me a sidelong glance that only made me look away with a small, crooked smile.

In-Ho lifted his head to look at me over his brother’s shoulder, returning a faint smile before replying:

“Believe me, if she didn't cry for you, you'd be dead."

Jun-Ho let out a brief chuckle as he stepped slightly away from his brother, placing his hands on his hips.

“Well, you’ve got a point there.” He sighed, and before In-Ho could respond, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close with the familiar ease I knew I’d miss so much. “I’m going to miss you both so much.”

“We’ll miss you too,” I answered softly, searching for his gaze, though he avoided meeting mine.

Then the airport horns echoed through the air, interrupting the moment with an announcement I had feared hearing:

“Boarding for flight 3356, all passengers must begin check-in at gate twelve.”

My chest tightened at those words, and I clung to Jun-Ho with my eyes, as if I could hold him back through sheer willpower.

“There’s my call,” he said with a weak smile. “It’s time to go.”

In-Ho checked his watch—a pricey model that would have usually caught my attention, but right then, I couldn’t have cared less. “Didn’t think your flight would board this soon,” he muttered, frowning.

Jun-Ho released me and turned toward me, his eyes scanning me from head to toe, as if trying to memorize every detail before leaving. Then, without warning, he pulled me into a warm hug, kissing my cheek repeatedly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

I didn’t respond. I knew if I opened my mouth, my voice would shatter into pieces.

“I’ll call you as soon as I land,” he added, pulling away from the hug. I crossed my arms, trying to shield myself from the cold emptiness his absence was already leaving behind.

He turned to his brother, patting him on the shoulder. “Take care of each other, please. I’ll be back really soon, I mean it.”

In-Ho slowly stepped closer to me, his presence comforting. “Of course I will—though it’s more likely she’ll end up taking care of me,” he joked, casting me a conspiratorial glance that managed to draw a faint smile from me.

Jun-Ho laughed, but there was a note of melancholy in it. “Yeah, I figured as much. But still, I want both of you to be okay while I’m gone. So… take care of yourselves, or I’ll go crazy in Japan.” He adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his suitcase.

“Alright, brother,” In-Ho replied sincerely, his hand resting on my back, offering silent support.

When I looked up at In-Ho, his dark eyes were fixed on mine, radiating a warmth I hadn’t realized I needed until that very moment.

I turned back toward Jun-Ho, just as he was walking away. His eyes were shining, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was about to cry too.

“I love you,” I said with a firm voice that rose above the airport noise.

He stopped and looked back at me with a smile that seemed to stretch across the growing distance between us. “I love you too. I’ll be back soon,” he repeated before disappearing into the crowd.

In-Ho and I stood in silence, watching as his figure slowly faded until we could no longer see him.

I let out a deep sigh, trying to fill my lungs with air while the emptiness in my chest expanded.

“Well, he’s gone,” I murmured with forced sarcasm, trying to lighten the mood, though it was clear I was the one who needed support.

In-Ho studied me carefully, his expression serious. “You don’t have to pretend, Soo-Jin. If it hurts, you can cry. It’s okay.”

His words—so simple and direct—shattered the wall I’d tried to build. Before I knew it, I was crying uncontrollably, hiding my face in my hands.

In-Ho wrapped an arm around my shoulders, gently guiding me so I could cry without being seen by the crowd. “It’s okay, Soo-Jin. It’s okay,” he whispered in a tone that, though I didn’t fully understand why, slowly calmed me down.

He led me to the car and opened the passenger door for me.

“I’ll drive. I’ll take you home, if that’s alright,” he said gently.

I shook my head, unable to speak through my sobs. I just climbed into the car, grateful not to be alone in that moment.

“Thank you, In-Ho,” I murmured as I accepted the cup of hot tea he offered. The chamomile aroma filled my senses, comforting and warm amidst the gray day. I blew gently on the surface before taking a small sip. His calm smile seemed like a silent attempt to soothe my mood.

“You don’t have to thank me, Soo-Jin. It’s the least I can do for you,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, but filled with sincerity.

He sat down on the sofa, just a few centimeters away. His hands were folded on his lap, and he let out a sigh that carried an invisible weight. His eyes seemed to wander to an indeterminate point, as if searching for the right words in some corner of his memory.

“I’m sorry for the comparison I’m about to make, but…” My tone faltered, and he looked up, expectantly. “How did you manage to cope with the loss of Eun-Ji without losing yourself? Jun-Ho is leaving for nine months, and I feel like I have no purpose in this life.”

His words took him by surprise. There was something so raw and vulnerable in my question that I felt a lump form in my throat. I watched as his gaze drifted into memories, probably those dark days that had marked him so deeply.

“Well… it was hard. Very hard,” his voice was barely a thread, but each word carried the weight of his past pain. “I felt like I was going to die at any moment because I couldn’t bear her absence. But… I remember you helped me a lot in trying to move on.”

I furrowed my brow, confused by his statement.

“Me?” I asked, unable to hide my surprise.

In-Ho laughed nervously and looked away toward his hands. “Yes. The day you came to my apartment to bring me food… I was about to kill myself.”

His words left me frozen. The tea in my hands felt heavier, as if I was now carrying the weight of that revelation.

“But when you arrived and saw me in such a… miserable state, you sat me on the sofa and spoke to me so seriously that my conscience weighed more than my desire to die. You made me realize there were many people who loved me too, and destroying myself wouldn’t bring Eun-Ji back.”

As he spoke, my mind pulled me back to that day. I remembered the terror I felt seeing him in such a fragile, broken state. It was one of the few times in my life when words came from me with a clarity I didn’t know I had. I had never been comfortable expressing my thoughts, which was why I had chosen the army over psychology school.

“I didn’t know my words could change anything,” I murmured, almost embarrassed by my disbelief.

“They changed everything,” he replied firmly, and his eyes met mine, sincere and grateful. “I’ll always be in your debt for that. And I’m still grateful you keep caring about me, like last week at the supermarket.” He smiled, recalling our casual encounter.

“You don’t have to thank me for anything, In-Ho,” I replied, returning his smile. “So, are we even?”

We both laughed, the atmosphere lightening for the first time in what seemed like hours.

“About my brother…” he began, adopting a more serious tone. “What I can recommend is that you live your life as you’re doing now. Work, rest, do what you like, and of course, talk when you can. But let’s be honest: Jun-Ho is very focused on his work. If his research is as complicated as he makes it seem, don’t put all your hope in his calls.”

I felt a pang of sadness at the truth in his words.

“So, you’re saying I should live my life as if I were single?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, still trying to process his advice.

In-Ho shrugged with a smile that seemed to mix amusement and resignation.

“To some extent, yes. But don’t misunderstand me. I’m not suggesting you go on dates with other men.” He chuckled softly, and I couldn’t help but follow suit.

“That would be the last thing I’d do,” I replied with a light laugh. “But you might be right.” I added after a few seconds, taking another sip of tea. “It’ll be hard to distract myself, but I’ll try.”

“I can help with that,” he said suddenly, interrupting me. I looked up, surprised by his determination. “This week my boss will be away, so I can take a few hours off. Would you like to have dinner on Saturday? That way you’ll have something to distract you, and I wouldn’t mind the company either.”

His proposal felt so natural that I didn’t hesitate to accept.

“I’d love to,” I replied with a genuine smile.

In-Ho’s expression lit up, and his enthusiasm was almost contagious.

“Perfect. See? Time will pass faster that way.”

I smiled again, holding onto that hope. As I finished my cup of tea, I felt that maybe, just maybe, there was a way to face these months without feeling completely lost.

All thanks to In-Ho.

Author's note: This chapter is funny when you finally know the context behind it lmao. Btw, Eun-Ji is the name I gave to In-Ho's wife since she doesn't have a canon name.

Mention for @frontwomann ^-^

[maghendearey]

Insecure Love    I Part 4

What if Fernando didn't have a guaranteed seat for next Season yet , and what if his only chance of getting one would be through Lawrence Stroll's daughter?

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Stroll, female reader x Fernando Alonso

Tw.:  , Age gap ( Reader 18, Alonso ), English isn't my mother language

Fernandos pov.

Damn. I had to see her. I apologized, but I couldn't. I had to race. The stress and tension were driving me crazy. I had to see her. I loved her, damn it, yes I did. I finished the race in fifth place. Not so good, but I had hope. I had expected worse. As soon as I could after the interviews, I ran to my car and drove to her apartment. Luckily, it was Monaco, so I could just drive to her apartment. Finding her in a hotel would have been a hundred times harder. Luckily, the door to her house was open, so I could go straight to her apartment. I just knocked, no one came. I rang the bell, she didn't open. I waited outside her door for hours. She was worth it. But she didn't have me. Images of memories flashed before my eyes. Her smile, her kisses, her eyes, her hugs. When I looked at the clock again, it was already 2:00 a.m. But I didn't want to leave. So I stayed and eventually fell asleep. When I woke up, I heard the sound of high heels going up the stairs. When I opened my eyes, she was standing there. Her outfit was pretty mismatched: yesterday's heels, but with an oversized men's shirt, which she'd belted around her waist. If he remembered correctly, it was Lance's shirt.

Y/N Pov

Last night was horrible, and after I cried to Lance, he asked me a question we both knew was unfair to ask, but he had to. "Do you love him?" Those words stuck in my head because no matter how much I tried to hide it, I loved him, even if he was an asshole. After the night with Lance, I was happy to be home. But my joy was promptly replaced by surprise and then sadness. Why was he here? How long had he been here? His eyes looked sleepy, and his hair was messy. "Princessa, princessa, please let me talk to you." I was unsure. Did I really want to? Did I want to talk to him? Yes, actually. "You can at least come in for a coffee, Fernando. You look overtired. Have you been here all night?" We went in, and I made him a coffee and myself a matcha. "You're still drinking that grass tasting stuff?" he asked with a smile as he took the coffee. "I will never change," my voice echoed. I needed my routines, my moments. "Princessa, let me explain, please." I still didn't look at him. But I nodded.

"It's true, Princessa. I asked you out on a date to make myself popular with your dad. I wanted the seat and used you as a means to an end.I, you know how much this sport means to me, princessa. I know I was kind of a man-slut. I know I took advantage of you and played with you. But I've learned how much I miss you. You are smart, beautiful, and loving. I love how much you love this grass tea. I love your laughter at my bad jokes. ​I love how nerdy you can be and talk to me for hours. I love how small you are in my arms.  I love how you always smell a little bit like flowers. I love all the little things you do. Damn princessa, I love everything about you. And no matter how much I have to beg and fight to have you, I love you and will do anything to keep you forever." Before he could continue, I fell into his arms. "I forgive you, but I'm still mad." He smiled at me and pulled me closer. "Just tell me how I can make it up to you, princessa." "It'll take a while, Nando. But a good start would be fresh flowers."

Hi guys, that was the last part of this short story. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please leave a comment or like. Love you all, I hope you're well.  💋​

[pink-princess-pussy-pop]

RED - Better Man

Rafe Cameron x Reader Taylor Swift AU

I know I'm probably better off on my own than lovin' a man who didn't know what he had when he had it.

You knew replying “yes” to Rafe’s text was a bad idea, but you gave into your feelings. You knew you’d do anything for Rafe if he’d only ask, but you just couldn’t help it. But you also knew deep down that he wouldn’t do that for you.

He had told you to meet him at the boys locker room for him, so that’s where you found yourself after the last bell rang.

You could hear the guys talking from down the hallway, but if only you couldn’t hear what they were saying. Topper, Kelce, and Rafe’s voices were distinct.

“She follows you around like a puppy, Rafe. It’s pathetic.”

“I know she is.” You stopped at the door when you heard Rafe. “But Y/N was my first friend. I don’t want to just drop her with no reasoning."

Your heart sank. Lower than it had ever been.

"She's been hopelessly in love with me since middle school. I think she just needs to wake up. I'd never, ever, date Y/N. She should know that by now."

"Shit, Rafe." Kelce.

"What? It's true. I just didn't know she was that stupid."

And I see all the permanent damage you did to me, never again, I just wish I could forget when it was magic.

You let out a sob, clamping your hand over your mouth before bolting back down the hallway. You didn't care if Rafe had heard you. You just needed to get away.

Once you got outside, the tears really started. Crying shard to the point where you could barely breathe. You could barely feel your phone buzzing as you stumbled around the parking lot, attempting to call an Uber since your mom had driven you this morning.

The drive home was a blur, all you had noticed was the non-stop buzzing of your phone in the seat beside you. You knew it had to be Rafe calling, but how could you face him now?

All these years, you thought Rafe truly cared about you, your well-being. You thought he wanted to be your friend. You thanked the driver as you got out, aggressively wiping your tears from your cheeks.

"What an asshole!" You threw your backpack onto your floor and chucked your phone across the room. All you could do was sob into your comforter.

All of those times you and Rafe had spent together. All of your memories with him. Everything you'd done together had always felt magical to you. But no, you know, they were all a lie.

The buzzing of your phone continued as you cried yourself to sleep.

I wish it wasn't 4 a.m., standing in the mirror saying to myself, "You know you had to do it." I know the bravest thing I ever did was run.

Your phone was now in your hands, an unsent text to Rafe waiting to be sent. Was 4 am really the time you'd want to send this text? You glance at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes puffy and red, tear tains on your cheeks, swollen lips. You send the text before thinking twice.

Delivered.

Instantly, you felt your shoulders relax. You were finished with Rafe Cameron.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I can feel you again, but I just miss you, and I just wish you were a better man. But I know why we had to say goodbye like the back of my hand, but I just miss you, and I just wish you were a better man. A better man.

You laid back down in your bed, staring at your ceiling. If you didn't know any better, Rafe could be sleeping over, right next to you. Of course, you knew that would never happen again. Saying goodbye to Rafe Cameron was something you had to do. You couldn't keep waiting for him to be a better person. A better man.

I know I'm probably better off on my own than needing a man who could change his mind at any given minute. And it was always on your terms. I waited on every careless word hoping it might turn sweet again... Like it was in the beginning.

You rolled your eyes at your own naivety, every time he'd make plans with you and then cancel to go be with Sofia or whatever girl he was with at the time. You couldn't believe how you had just kept waiting for him to realize how you were in love with him. But now, you knew, that he had known the whole time.

But your jealousy, oh, I can hear it now, talking down to me like I'll always be around. Push my love away like it was some kind of loaded gun. Oh, you never thought I'd run.

Rafe thought you were stupid? He was the stupid one if he thought you were going to wait for him forever. You knew Rafe thought you didn't have the courage to stand up to him, let alone leave him.

I hold onto this pride because these days it's all I have, and I gave to you my best and we both know you can't say that.

You had always been there for Rafe. Cancelling plans with your other friends when Rafe had called you about a fight with his father. Or Sofia. And what had he been doing in return? He had been talking shit behind your back.

I wish you were a better man. I wonder what we would've become if you were a better man. We might still be in love if you were a better man.

Although you couldn't help but imagine what life would be like if Rafe reciprocated your feelings. You both knew everything about each other, had grown up together. In your head, it made sense. But you knew it was for the better that you had ended your friendship.

You would've been the one if you were a better man.

You looked at your phone again, the delivered sign now marked as read.

————-

Hello, so sorry about the wait. Work has drained me and I had a bit of writers block.

[jolynesmom]

hey can u share ur void success story? Would love to see it

hii this is the storytime I promised about getting into the void first try <3

disclaimer: this post is long asf, I like being very detailed when talking about such stuff because you may never know which insignificant detail might help someone + I always liked when people would go into detail about shifting or the void state

this happened a few months ago. I’m a reality shifter and have been trying for around 4 years and never succeeded for more than a few seconds, so I got extremely burned out with the traditional methods

I decided to research about shifting on tumblr to see if the community is popular here as well (previously I’ve only researched about it on tiktok, reddit and a bit on youtube) and found a bit of general info about shifting, but what has gotten my attention was a person who got into the void state and instantly manifested their desires. I thought it looked a lot like shifting so I read some more

I knew a tiny bit about the void state from shifttok, but I’ve never been interested to learn more until that point. the og post said that they specifically reached the void state by doing yoga nidra so I thought it was a requirement for the void at that point. I didn’t know what yoga nidra was, so I sent the person a message asking about it and went about my day deciding I’m giving up on traditional methods and will start to work with the void state

for some reason I didn’t research any further that day (probably because I was burnt out by my shifting attempt the night before and didn’t feel like ingesting more information)

at night I decided to try to shift again. I drank blue lotus tea and put on a guided meditation. after 10 minutes I get bored and switched the meditation for white, brown and pink noises and fell asleep saying affirmations

I got woken up by my alarm at around 10 a.m. (I didn’t shift) and I tried to get out of bed to really woke up, but I ended up falling asleep until 11:30 a.m. when I got woken up again by my loud parents getting ready for work, so I tried to play on my phone to get more lucid and not fall asleep again because I didn't feel like getting out of bed, but I also didn't want to continue sleeping. my eyes were practically closing by themselves atp, but I went on tumblr and saw the person I messaged the night before answered my message and said they'll post a guide one of these days. after thanking them I closed my eyes again thinking of the void state. I remember saying to myself something like “I really want to get into the void, I can’t wait for the guide so I can do yoga nidra”

for the next hour I fell asleep for 10 minutes then woke up for 1-3 minutes at least 3 times (I was very tired, probably because of the previous shifting attempt) and my thoughts were completely blank;

at some point I find myself in my kitchen trying to make coffee and I couldn't tell if I was dreaming or not because the dream was very clear and I usually make coffee after getting out of bed so I thought I had finally woken up

I noticed the jar of instant coffee was almost empty and I asked myself "why is it almost empty, I bought a new jar yesterday" (I finished my jar yesterday and wanted to buy a new one today btw), then when I went pick up the jar I was instantly hit with the realization that I was lucid dreaming, so not even a second later I threw myself to the ground in a crisscross position to allow myself to fall through the floor and shift to my dr

when I hit the ground I closed my eyes and stated my intention of wanting to shift to my jujutsu kaisen dr, but I didn’t even get to finish my intention when I felt myself being pulled through the floor in an infinite dark void; I realized I entered the void state

I was calm, but really wanted to get to my dr, so I started affirming and visualizing. I felt myself being pulled again through the void, a bit lower, before stopping again

I got annoyed and started thinking of my dr again then started hearing a voice; I listened for a bit then realized I was hearing an argument between yuuji and megumi. I didn't understand because they were talking in japanese, but at the same time I understood the message?? they were arguing about how to exorcise a curse or something like that

the weird thing about their voices is that when I dream, lucid dream, visualize or make up scenarios, all the voices are quiet and muffled in the distance and the tone never changes, but the voices I was hearing were loud and clear as if I was next to them, which has NEVER happened to me before. I think I literally stood there frozen for 15 seconds because of how loud and real (?) their voices sounded

anyways

I was getting annoyed because I kept getting distracted and started saying affirmations and trying to imagine where I wanted to wake up. I couldn't feel my body the whole time, I was pure conciseness.

I told myself that as long as I shift, I don't care where I end up, then suddenly I started to hear more voices including a girl's voice (they were most probably people from other drs of mine).

I got confused and a bit alarmed, so I asked out loud what do I have to do to shift. suddenly all the voices got muffled and a man with a lower voice started talking to me in english. I didn't know who that was and I got confused, but tried my best to follow his instructions. I started to hear noises from my cr (the cars passing my apartment as I live in a noisy area) but tried not to wake up. because of the noises I woke up and suddenly I was in my room again. I panicked but didn’t open my eyes or move my body (I could semi-feel my body, but it was mostly asleep) and literally yelled in my mind ‘I want to get back into the void!!’ suddenly I’m in the void again, this time I didn’t feel the falling sensation, it was instant

back into the void I saw nothing was working I decided to shift to my waiting room because I remembered someone once saying that a waiting room is some kind of parallel located between your cr and other realities and this is why it can be easier to shift there. I intended to shift to my waiting room then felt how my body got pulled lower into the void again, then it suddenly stopped when I heard my phone buzzing in my cr because of a notification

I got extremely frustrated and decided to fully wake up

I woke up at around 1:20 p.m. and was very happy with what I just went through.

thinking about the last voice for a bit, I initially thought it was gojo, but it sounded too different to be him, plus the man was talking in english, so I figured it could've been zhongli from my genshin dr since I scripted english is an universal language in teyvat, but then I thought it was weird that he responded since I'm not very close to him in my dr, but after some more thinking I realized that we're actually connected in my dr so it kinda makes sense to be him, but I'm still not 100% sure, I'm only sure about hearing yuuji and megumi arguing

it took me an embarrassing amount of time to realize that when I was in the void and said I want to shift to my dr and started falling then stopped and I heard yuuji and megumi, I was actually in my dr and I just needed to wake up. I thought I would get woken up instantly just like with shifting methods, but I actually had to wake myself up from the void. my information was very limited because, like I said in the beginning, I only read one or two posts about the void state beforehand

it would also make sense to hear yuuji and megumi first thing before waking up in my dr, because I scripted that when they go in the school to get sukuna’s finger, I would be asleep in one of the offices (don’t ask) and will witness the whole thing

I think the way I got into the void is an actual method; I forgot the name of it but it might’ve been the phrase method, I’m not too sure

it also shows you don’t have to have a perfect mindset as I thought I can’t possibly get into the void until I do yoga nidra for a few days, so all you need is intention and an alternate state of consciousness

additional things (you can totally skip this if you want to)

after I got into the void state that day, I continued practicing the void state and I almost got into it at least 15 times, but instead of doing it via a lucid dream, I used the lullaby and distraction methods because I have a hard time lucid dreaming. every time I would be pulled into the void with these methods I would instantly think of my cr or get impatient and be immediately be pulled out, so I’m working on that and on how to lucid dream more often

I think I’m getting close into reaching the void again, because I’ve been working on meditation and started teaching my subconscious mind not to think of my cr while going into the void state.

the months of march and april were literally stagnant for me with no little to no success because I strongly believe I got the evil eye or something like that. at the end of february I went back to my home country (which is in eastern europe) to attend my cousin’s 18th birthday and I think I might have been cursed by one of the old ladies attending. I would always get the evil eye by them as a kid, but my grandma would usually remove it for me

my manifestations stopped and I couldn’t reach the void again but I thought it was because of work and uni related stress, but then it hit me it might be something else because I literally never had issues with my manifestations but suddenly I couldn’t manifest anything anymore, so I performed a cleanse and now I’m back again manifesting like it’s my job

a few nights ago I tried to get into the void, after like 8 minutes of meditation my body fell asleep while my mind was awake and I could’ve entered the void, but I sabotaged myself because I told myself I needed to go to sleep asap because I need to wake up in 3 hours for work so I moved around a bit and went to sleep

anyways, I’ll try to get into the void again and keep y’all updated. next month I go back to my home country where is peace and quiet so I think I’ll have a better time without stressing about uni, work or the noisy area I live in

[atxxzist]

to the only boy i've ever loved | 02

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pairing: choi san x f!reader

word count: 652

-- the first meeting

january 1, 9th grade

hi san,

it's a little past 12 a.m. so it's finally new year. i wonder if you have any goals you want to achieve this year? i'm not so sure myself but i think i want to take school more seriously and improve my grades and gpa.

i got a 'c' on two of my classes: science and spanish, and it's not even that i didn't understand the materials, more so that i procrastinated so much until the last second and wasn't able to turn in some major assignments. i'm going to do better this upcoming semester, hopefully.

(recently, my dad has taught me to stop using probable but not certain terms like maybe, probably, hopefully... and to be more sure and confident in myself. i'm learning but it's still a habit)

i'm writing this because i don't have anything better to do this late and i can't sleep. it's also new year and because i have a laptop now, i figure i should probably write about some things i would be able to look back to in the future if my memory starts losing itself? perhaps like the first time i ever met you.

i think that's a good start if i'm going to be writing about you for a long time.

but it was in the 6th grade and you just transferred from another school. i remember thinking you were so cute (you still are) when you first walked into our classroom. you had such big eyes and a cute little nose. because of this, you got popular among the girls pretty fast and even got yourself a girlfriend not too long after.

granted, i was a tiny bit jealous even though i was really good at acting like i didn't care about you and the only time we interacted at all in 6th grade was when we were assigned in line orders and i was put right behind you for a week and accidentally stepped on one of your shoe laces.

you wouldn't even be able to tell at all that every time we got in line for lunch, my heart and stomach always felt funny for that entire week. i was both sad but also relieved when the teacher reorganized the order.

just thinking about it now, you've changed quite a bit in comparison to my very first impression of you. you looked so timid and overwhelmed by the attention at first, i couldn't have predicted you would be best friend with wooyoung jung to this day.

he has always been loud, silly, and a bit disruptive in class from time to time, i for sure thought there was no way you two would get along. i was very wrong because by the time we were about to go to middle school, you two became two peas in a pod.

(wooyoung really only knew i existed because before you came, i was 1 of the only 4 asian students in there and the only other korean besides him)

from then, you started hanging out with the popular crowd and i felt the gap between us grow wider.

i never planned on asking you out and i don't plan to, but it was just a feeling that was hard to ignore, even now.

sophie asks me all the time if i don't plan on doing anything about my crush then why do i still keep doing the things that i do, such as writing these letters and always talking about you.

honestly, i don't have an answer right now either. maybe i enjoy the feeling of liking someone? that there's something to look forward to when i go to school? i don't know, but hopefully my future self will know the answer haha. (sorry dad, i used a maybe and hopefully).

this is getting a bit too long, but i hope you have a good new year and again, i'll see you in less than 2 weeks!

sincerely, y/n.

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taglist: @brown88