#and its just me begging for somebody to drive to my house to help while i hide under the covers

[thestarstho]

Ways that me and Bob Belcher are the same person:

1. bi

2. Can't poop in public restrooms

3. Scared of birds

4. Loves puns

5. Knows the crawl space

[graciegoeskrazy]

and too much racket

matty healy + teen!daughter!r (ft. george)

warnings: r does drugs!!!, nothing in graphic detail, mentions of mattys addiction, yelling, crying, shit ending but cute?

a/n: mention of a specific drug that starts with a k that i can’t fully say so inside the street name cuz i don’t want tumblr banning me even do its weird cuz they block my angstyfluffy healy things but there’s litteral prn on thier site anywhooooooo im a lover not a fighter. thx to anon who requested! had to do research cuz ive never done drugs aeha

The house was quiet. He was anticipating another night alone in the house while you were out with friends. The silence was broken by the sound of a call. He snatched up the phone and answered it immediately. 9 times out of 10 it was just you checking in or saying hi.

“Hi, baby. Everything okay?”

“Mr. Healy?” The voice on the other end was hesitant, unsure. Most importantly, it wasn’t yours.

“Kate? Where’s y/n?” The worry in his voice intensified, his mind racing through all the possible scenarios.

“Mr. Healy, we’re getting ready to drop y/n off. Are you home?”

“Yeah. Why? Is she okay? Is she that drunk?” He laughed a little at the thought. He knew you liked to drink on occasion and sometimes even use weed and he was usually fine with it as long as you were being safe and called when you needed him. He always said he would drop anything in a heartbeat.

“No, she’s not drunk. She’s...high...on something that...isn’t weed.” Kate’s words hung heavily in the air, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

“What? What was it, Kate? You can tell me.” His voice was laced with confusion and urgency.

“I don’t know. She left the room awhile ago, said she was going to the bathroom, but when she came back she was clearly on something. Something a lot stronger.”

“Oh god.” He ran a hand through his hair, his mind spinning.

“Somebody said she had mentioned Ket, but I don't know where she would’ve gotten it? We don’t do that type of stuff—I barely drink!” Kate’s voice cracked, the fear and confusion palpable.

“I know, I know, Kate. It’s gonna be okay. Where is she now?” He forced himself to stay calm. He could tell your friend was starting to panic even more.

“She’s asleep in the car. We just left.” Her voice softened, the exhaustion and worry evident.

“Alright, bring her here. Drive carefully. We’ll figure this out.”

As the call ended he sent frantic texts to the only other people who he knew loved you almost as much as he loved you, begging them to come over. George, residing the closest, knocked on the door not even 10 minutes later, worried about the vague text Matty sent. Ross came in not long after, with Adam, Carly, Charli, and Jamie all trailing from behind. He explained everything he knew, and before they knew it a knock sounded at the door.

—————

Your heart pounded as you stepped out of the car, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. You couldn't believe Kate had brought you here, to your own house. You barely remembered getting in the car. Now - you were wide awake. "You brought me to my house?!" Your voice shook with disbelief.

Kate, her face a mask of concern, tried to reach out to you. "It’s for your own good, Y/n. We called your dad, he’s gonna help—"

Your eyes widened in horror, and she took a step back in fear. "You called my DAD?!?!"

Kate flinched at the volume, "We were just trying to help, Y/n."

"Well, just stay out of it—" You shot back, voice breaking.

The front door swung open, and Matty stood there, his face set in a grim expression. "Y/N," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Living room. Now."

You felt a surge of defiance but knew better than to argue with your father when he was in this state. "Dad—"

"Now," Matty repeated, his voice stern.

With a final, furious glance at Kate, you stormed past her and into the house.

Kate’s eyes filled with tears as she confronted your father, filled with worry and guilt. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Healy! I should have kept a closer eye on her-”

“It’s not your fault, Kate. We’ll get through this.” He managed a small, reassuring smile before turning his attention back to y/n.

Matty followed her inside, closing the door behind him with a heavy thud.

You were met with most of your aunts and uncles as soon as you walked in, mentally groaning and rolling your eyes. The room is tense. You glance around, taking in the faces of family and friends, all summoned by your father. Their presence only amplifies your frustration. You turned to your father as soon as you heard his familiar footsteps grow closer.

“You called everyone?!” you exclaim.

Matty’s expression is stern, unyielding. “We need help with this one, babe”

“Oh my god— I got high one time. I need some water and Advil, not a fucking intervention,” you retort.

“Sit down,” Matty commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Reluctantly, you drop onto the couch, your arms crossed in defiance. Matty takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “Weed and a couple of Trulys are one thing, y/n, but this?!”

You roll your eyes, a gesture that seems to cut through the tension like a knife. It’s a bold move, especially aimed at your father. Even in your age of defiance, you never once dared to act like this in front of your father. He doesn’t flinch, his gaze piercing as he presses on. “Where’d you get it?” You shift uncomfortably, weighing your options. “Tell me. Now,”

You let out a resigned sigh. “A friend—”

“What friend?” Matty interrupts, his patience wearing thin.

“She was prescribed it for her anxiety or something,” you explain, trying to maintain some composure. “Now she’s just been dealing it to people.”

The room remains charged with tension, but a different kind now, more personal, more painful. You sit, feeling the weight of your father’s disappointment. The silence hangs heavily before Matty finally speaks again.

“Those girls were scared, y/n. You should’ve heard Kate; she was terrified! I could hear it in her voice,” Your dad says, his voice strained.

“She’s fine,” you reply dismissively.

Matty’s eyes narrow. “You better pray they forgive you.”

“Oh my god— it’s not that big of a deal!”.

“You scared the shit out of ’em, love!” Matty���s voice rises, echoing through the room.

“You think everything was fine after I quit? I lost friends, y/n. I almost lost every single person in this room, and I probably would’ve if I hadn’t gotten my act together.”

“Well, good for you. You’re doing so great now,” you retort sarcastically, the bitterness evident.

Matty’s expression shifts from anger to confusion. “I just don’t understand what caused you to act out like this?”

“Well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the fucking tree,” you shoot back, your voice trembling with barely contained emotion. He knew what you were referring to. They all did.

“Y/n!” George’s voice breaks the momentary silence, his tone a mix of shock and reprimand.

“Take it back,” Matty demands, his dangerous. “Take it back right now, y/n.”

“You can’t be that surprised, can you?” you challenge, meeting his gaze without a flinch..

“You heard of the things I went through!” Matty’s voice cracks, a raw edge to his words.

“Are you kidding? I fucking saw the things you went through! The things you put me through!” Your voice rises, the anger and pain you’ve held back for so long spilling out. “The nights you chose that shit over me! The weeks and months you left me with George because you were too high or too irresponsible to take care of me! Your daughter!”

The room goes silent. Matty’s face is a mix of guilt and helplessness, but it soon turns to anger. “Go upstairs,” Matty finally says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stand up, your movements brisk and fast, and head towards the stairs. Each step feels like a mountain, the weight of the confrontation pressing down on you. As you reach your room, the door closes behind you with a soft click, cutting off the world outside.

—————

The next morning, you wake up to an empty house. Your father and George must have left early for the studio, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The silence is heavy, a stark contrast to the tension of the previous night. You sit on the edge of your bed, the events replaying in your mind, and decide to call George.

After a few rings, he picks up, voice chipper. “Well, look who’s up and out of her intoxicated state!”

You roll your eyes, though a small smile tugs at your lips. “I called to ask how your day was going, not to hear about my mistakes.”

“Awe, she cares!” George’s voice is teasing, but there’s warmth in it too.

“I always do,” you reply softly, the sincerity clear in your tone.

There’s a brief pause before George speaks again, his voice a bit more serious. “Your dad misses you. Won’t stop moanin’ and groanin’ about his girl.”

“You sure he’s not talking about another girl?” you ask.

George sighs. “You both said things you regret, babe. Fix it. Whatever is happening right now, it’s not worth it.”

“I know,” you admit, the guilt gnawing at you. “Thanks, George.”

“And if you ever do that tom-fuckery again, I will have your head in an old-fashioned guillotine.”

“Noted.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then you muster the courage to say, “I never said thank you for taking care of me then. So…thank you. For everything.”

George smiles a bit. “Just doing my duties as best uncle.”

“Hm.” You smile.

After hanging up, you sit quietly for a moment, absorbing the conversation. George’s words echo in your mind.

Later that day, you hear the familiar sound of the front door opening. Matty’s voice calls out, filled with tentative. “Baby girl? I’m home.”

You rush out from where you’ve been anxiously waiting, tears already streaming down your face. As soon as you see him, you crumble into his arms, mumbling through your sobs. “I’m sorry I mess up and I’m sorry for the things I said and the things I’ve done and I’m sorry you’re stuck with me and I’m sorry that I’m not the perfect kid but I really try to be and try to be that perfect kid for you and for everyone but it all just got a little much and I was trying to make things better and be an adult I guess and I got carried away and I’m sorry Daddy I’m just so sorry.”

He smiles, trying to hide his laugh at your words and ranting. He wraps his arms around you tightly, his voice soothing. “It’s gonna be fine, baby—”

“No it’s not,” you interrupt, your voice cracking with the weight of your guilt. “I messed up, I messed up bad. I made a mistake.”

“A mistake which you will never make again, correct?”

“I promise,” you whisper, your tears soaking into his shirt.

“Good. You’re not perfect, y/n. And thank god you’re not. Do you know how horrible I would feel if I had a perfect child? God, I could never keep up with you. You are smart and funny and so charismatic, and if it weren’t for you being my child, then you might have been perfect…” The tension starts easing. “But I don’t care,” Matty continues, his voice tender. “Because you are mine, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“I love you,” you say, your voice steadying as you look up at him.

“I love you most... but I will throw you in a river if you do that shit again,” Matty replies, a teasing glint in his eyes. Now, maybe, just maybe, healing can begin.

[jamesbuchananbarnesslut]

Pierce’s Maid - Ch. 1 - The Introduction

Paring: Winter Solider x Female Reader

Words: 2,517

Summary: You are Pierce’s maid but run into an unexpected visitor one day when going to clean.

Warnings: smut, slightly non-con, a/b/o dynamics, knotting, marking, mating

Tiny Tag List: @navybrat817 @whisperlullaby @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @oloreaa

Notes: This is my first time writing smut or fanfiction please be nice. I also want to say a huge thank you to all the ladies who encouraged this! I love you all so much and hope you enjoy!! 

Master List

Series Master List

——————————————————————————

I awoke to the sun peeking through my curtains, knowing it shouldn't be much after eight o'clock. Meaning I had just enough time to eat and get ready for work, without being too far behind schedule. I manage to haphazardly make my way down the stairs and putting together something to eat. Which per usual just happens to be a bowl of cereal, something to help scarf down my pills.  After that I manage to make it back to my bedroom and throw on some work clothes. Which just happens to be some leggings and a t-shirt. The entire dread of today seeping into my skin, I know this is the last day I have to work before I have a week off for my heat, but I just feel terrible already and know it's not going to go well. Even though my drive is peaceful, I still can't help that itching irritation at the back of my mind. Leading to a spiral of thoughts, that end at I have no other option than to make it through today as quick as possible and everything will be okay.  

I had originally worked for a larger company that outsourced maids and would typically clean multiple houses a day or throughout the week. That was up until I met my current employer Mr. Pierce, I cleaned his house once and that was it. He told me he'd pay me more than the current maid service I was working for and that I'd only ever have to clean his house. Which was an offer I couldn't pass up; I was starting to wear myself thin trying to clean so many houses and just scraping by. Mr. Pierce gave me the opportunity to get my life back together and finally have time for myself. Something I really couldn't complain about. Although he was a cleanly man, he was rather suspicious, only communicated with me through texts and notes, and hated my smell so much I could only clean his house during his work hours. So, I typically came by Monday through Friday and touched up different parts of the house every day.  

As I pulled up to his house another bout of eerie shivers ran over me, I couldn't help but feel as if I was being watched. Reminding myself I had a week off after this shift, I shook off the feeling and began to trudge my way inside. With Pierce being an alpha, I had gotten comfortable being around his scent and tried to limit how much I scented while I cleaned. But as soon as I unlocked the door an entirely new smell hit me, it was nothing like Pierce's, his typically mistress's, or business partner's. A mix of sage and pine, coming off what had to be another alpha and one close to his rut. None of this felt right nor did I think it would be a smart idea to clean the house. Pierce would really be furious if I scented his house during my heat and the scent of whatever alpha was inside was going to cause it. Right as I were about to pull out my phone and call Pierce to explain the dilemma a hand snatched my wrist yanking me inside.  

Even though I tried screaming a hand was over my mouth before I could even get any noise out, as if they were anticipating it. And then a gruff voice was in my ear, "Pierce said he told his little maid take her vacation early and yet here you are."

I couldn't help the shiver that ran up my spine, was I supposed to have today off too? I couldn't even think straight his smell was so overwhelming and even mouthwatering. With his hand still covering my mouth I couldn't reply, but he pulled me further into the house leading me into the living room. He sat me down on the couch and himself in the opposing armchair. The light partially breaking through the blinds, making his eyes and face just barely visible. I couldn't help but be enamored by him he looked angelic and smelled even better. But I also knowing that if this was one of Pierce's work associates that this might not go over well for me.

Neither of us expecting to run into each other and both caught in a stupor we sat there staring at each other. Nobody making a move to do or say anything more. His smell becoming more powerful as if he was purposely scenting the room. Shit, could he smell my impending heat or was he trying to trigger it? That eerie feeling, I had all morning was right, I should have just called off and gone into my heat vacation a day early. The scratch slowly beginning under my skin again and my mouth actually beginning to water as his smell became more powerful. It smelled like he was close to his rut; if he, is I'm really fucked now. I couldn't help but rub my thighs together, and finally will myself to speak. The words coming up jumbled, but there none the less, "I.... do you think..... I should get going."

He's still staring at me, eyes boring into me, as if trying to read me, like I'm in the wrong in this situation. Yet, maybe Pierce did think I would want extra time off for my heat. I can't help but run my mind through a million different scenarios while debating with myself how to just get up and leave. Will he even let me leave, I mean fuck it at this point, as I start to squirm my way out of the seat he growls. Immediately making me still my entire body and my underwear wet, I hadn't been near an alpha this close to my heat in so long I don't think it could end well.  

Which at this point I fully realize the mistake I've made Pierce had asked me to begin my vacation a day early, he had mentioned someone would be staying with him and wasn't sure how my smell would react to him. I had been so scatter brained this past week trying to get ready for my heat that it completely slipped my mind. I really needed to get the hell out of here. I slowly built my courage and cleared my throat trying to will myself to speak yet again. "I...... I'm... I'm sorry I just remembered Pierce had said somebody would be staying with him and to begin my vacation early." Continuing, stammering, "I should really get going, I didn't mean to."

And before I could even make a move to head towards the door, he had a hold on me again, yanking me to my knees in front of him. That's when I can finally see his eyes, pitch black, the tent forming in his pants and the smell of his rut drenching the room. I truly, truly fucked up and don’t think I can even talk my way out of this one, but I still stammer on anyways. "Please just let me go, Pierce doesn't have to know I came in today. We can just forget anything happened." Tears slowly forming in the corners of my eyes at this point and to my dismay I realize I'm scenting. My heat is coming and the panic of it sends me into a further spiral.  

All this strife finally causing him to speak again, "you smell real good mega, no wonder why Pierce can't handle you cleaning while he's here."

I can't even begin to ponder what he means by that, I'm too distracted by how nice he smells at this point. The smell rolling in waves slowly dragging me closer and closer to my heat.

"You like my smell, don't you?" He continues.  

As if attached to a string my head nods on its own, I can't help but want to bury my face into every crevice of his body and live in his smell.  

"So, sweet for me, aren't you?"

Before I can let this go any further, I snap back to my senses and begin plotting a way out in my head. But he's a step ahead of me and is already pulling me into his lap and burying his face into my neck, biting, licking, scenting, and kissing anywhere he can get his mouth on. I can't help the moan that escapes my mouth, which causes him to release a rumble, pleased that I like this.  

"It's okay mega, I can smell that you want this, me." He speaks in between the marks he's making on my neck, continuing. "Pierce said he was saving you as a treat for me anyways and it looks like this mix-up was perfect timing. Sweet girl, can't you smell we were meant to be." He begins to slowly grind his hardness up into me, only causing a flood of wetness to break through my leggings. "Oh, sweet mega that's it, just let me have you."

Little whines and whimpers still escaping me, I can't help but enjoy what he's doing after not having been with an alpha in so long. Still fighting within myself though and distracted he takes the opportunity and shifts us onto the couch caging me in. While continuing his endeavor on my neck. I finally find my voice again and try to beg "ple.... pleas... please stop."

"But mega I can smell how wet you are for me, you want it so bad, and can't you feel how badly I want it," which he punctuates by grinding his hardness into my core. Causing more mewls to spill out of my mouth. "Oh, sweet girl that's it, I promise I'll take such sweet care of you."  

Before I can protest, he's stripping me of my clothes the cold air bringing my nipples to a peak and my smell further spilling into the air. I try to cover myself up the best I can, but he just "tsks" and gives me a look that tells me I should cut my fighting short if I want this to go over nicely. Or at least as nicely as he'll make it for me.

"That's it sweet girl let me see you," he states while working off my pants and underwear too. Him still fully clothed in a rough tactical suit. As much as I want to resist my heat brain is slowly taking over and I wouldn't mind taking a hard knot at this point. I can't help but grind myself against him.  He begins to kiss down my chest, making sure to spend extra time sucking and biting on my nipples. Causing more moans to spill from my mouth and me to grind myself against him with more vigor, searching for some type of friction.

"You really like that don't you sweet girl?" Another shiver wracks down my spine and he chuckles darkly. "I knew there was a reason Pierce prevented this from happening anytime soon, because as soon as I knot you mega your mine, I'm putting my mark on that pretty little neck too."

Again, I want to protest, tell him I don't want any of that, but his fingers are already swiping through my folds. His thumb immediately rubbing my clit in small circles while another finger slides right into me. "That's it sweet girl, gonna work you open so you can take all of me." Which he punctuates by sliding another finger right along in with the first one. More mewls and moans spilling from my mouth and a heat slowly building over my body. He starts to rub my clit harder and pump his fingers faster, "yeah that's it mega, you gotta cum once before I can get my knot into you." His talking only building the fire in my gut further.

Willing myself to speak I let him know I'm close.  

"Yeah, mega I know com'on give it to me, so I can give you my knot and mark."

That shouldn't send me over the edge, but it does, my moans echoing through the room. While my heat filled brain and orgasm wracked body is just ready for him to fill me up. I start to make grabby hands at him and try to grind myself back into him. Which just causes him to chuckle, "hold on I'm working on it," he follows with unzipping his pants and pulling out his hard member. My eyes must bug out because he's laughing again, he's huge and I can't help but stare. From his physique I knew he'd be bigger but what he pulls out is like nothing I've ever seen. Above average in length and extra girthy, already leaking precum at the tip.  

He pumps himself a few times, then settles himself over me, lining his member up with my entrance. I buck right into him, my heat filled brain ready for his knot. Slowly pushing in he causes more whimpers to spill from mouth, nobody has ever filled me this nicely, not even the larger toys I've bought before. I immediately cling to his body, wrapping my arms and legs around him, burying my face in his neck.

"It's okay mega, I'll take such good care of you." Fully seated inside me, he gives me a second to adjust, before slowly pulling out and pushing back in again. Beginning a smooth rhythm that just leaves me wanting more.  

"Please, more," I whimper into his neck.

"Yeah? My mega wants it harder?" He pulls my face out his neck so he can get a clear look at me.

"Please," I squeak staring right back at him. The lust in his eyes so enticing and pulling me in.  

He begins to snap his hips harder, breaking the trance and causing the heat to start slowly building in me again. "That's it mega, gonna take my knot so nicely. I know your close, tell me what you need?" He hikes my hips higher, pushing my legs onto his shoulders. Preventing me from even answering as this new angle has him drilling into that exact spot that has me seeing stars. All my thoughts are out the window but the need to cum.

"Please, please," I whimper.

"Fuck, I know your right there mega, just give it to me." Still pounding into me he drops his hand down and starts to swipe his thumb over my clit. Causing me immediately to tighten down on him, spreading the heat into all my limbs. "That's it sweet girl, I'm right behind you." I can feel his knot enlarging, catching every time he tries to pull in or out. The thought of his knot fulling being in me sends me over the edge. Which triggers his own orgasm, shoving his knot deep into me I'm wracked with shivers. Giving him the opportunity to bite into my neck just as he finishes pumping his cum into me. Sending me into another orgasm, like nothing I've ever felt before.

He rumbles, "mine."

[maliby]

Diagnosis: Love (31) (M)

Pair: doctor! Johnny x nurse! F. Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sex scene, choking, dirty talk

“One more please!” You begged the bartender, your finger pointing to the empty shot glass right in front of you.

Tonight you had come to a bar you didn’t usually go to. You didn’t like the vibes of it or the type of music they played but the one you usually went to was where you and Jaehyun first kissed and you refused to be plagued by the memories.

You were in self-destruction mode. You didn’t want to think, you didn’t want to rationalize, you just wanted to forget it all.

You moved to grab your shot as soon as the bartender with the eyebrow piercing finished pouring the Tequilla into the glass, but disappointment fell on you when somebody took it and drank it before you could.

“You sure are hard to find,” Johnny said as his face contorted due to the burning of the alcohol.

You sighed.

It’s not that you weren’t happy to see him, you just felt like being by yourself. “You drank my shot.”

“Sorry, no more for you.”

“Excuse me, but you are not my father.” You ignored Johnny’s order and snapped your fingers at the bartender so he could refill you but Johnny immediately shot him a look and he turned away.

“Come on, I’m taking you home.”

“I don’t want to go home, thank you very much.” You grabbed your purse to get away from him but his hand on your arm stopped you.

“Johnny let go.”

“Listen, you don’t want to go home, I get it. How about we just go to my place?”

You stopped and looked at him. You knew he wasn’t asking with second intentions but, in your self-destructive mode and with the amount of alcohol inside of you you couldn’t help but think about it.

Jaehyun wanted to dump you out of nowhere? Well, fuck him. You were going to go with Johnny and you were gonna let your body do all the things your mind has thought about. You didn’t care.

“Alright.”

Johnny smiled in relief, letting his hand drop from your arm to your own hand and leading you to his car. He opened the door for you and aided you inside before he closed it off and walked to the driver’s side, opening his own door and getting inside with you.

“You know you shouldn’t be driving doctor, you have Tequilla in your blood,” you teased as he put his seatbelt on.

“It takes way more than one shot to get me heated baby.” Johnny placed his hands on the wheel and started the car, the muscles on his arms popping through his shirt and getting your attention.

Even in your drunk state, you knew he was jokingly throwing in that pet name, but you couldn’t help but get all riled up.

“Tell me then, baby, what does it take to get you heated?” You used your most seductive voice and couldn’t help but feel the rush of excitement as you noticed Johnny’s jaw clench.

“There’s a water bottle in the glove compartment, you should drink it.”

You laughed at his sudden change of topic. You were affecting him, and that was all you wanted.

You opened up the glove compartment and took out said bottle. As you were drinking some of the water an evil idea came to you. You looked sideways to Johnny and observed as he tried his best to stay focused on the road, even though his mind was somewhere else. You turned to him and got closer, so close you could see the goosebumps caused by your breath on his skin. You brought the water bottle near his crotch and let some of it spill, an evil smile spreading on your face.

“Fuck Y/N-”

“I’m so sorry Johnny, I didn’t mean to.” You took off your jacket and proceeded to rub him dry, his delicious thighs contracting in the process.

“Y/N what are you doing?” He tried to swat you away, but the way he was getting harder under your touch only made you keep going.

“What does it look like Johnny? You’re all wet, I’m taking care of you.” You got closer to his ear and whispered: “Wouldn’t you take care of me if I was all wet... baby?”

Johnny swallowed, his dick twitching in the process.

“Alright, we’re here.” Johnny suddenly announced before he parked the car and removed your hand from his crotch, making you pout.

“Already?”

He didn’t answer you. He just unbuckled his seat belt and left the car, soon showing up at your side to open your door however, you opened it before he could and joined him outside. He locked the car and led you to his apartment, no words being exchanged between the two of you.

“You have a nice place,” you commented as you got inside his home.

“Doctor’s salary,” he simply said as he put his keys on a glass bowl he kept by the door.

“Alright, listen, make yourself at home, I just need to get out of these clothes.”

“Yes sir,” you winked at him as you watched him go to a hall that you assumed led to his room.

Instead of waiting for him, you decided to silently follow him. When you reached the open door of his room you saw him remove his shirt and his soaked pants, the outline of his ass cheeks on his black underwear causing you to bite your lip.

For a while, your eyes got lost on the definition of his body, imagining all the things you would do to him but, when you looked up you noticed he was looking straight at you from a mirror he had in his room - just like he did at your place.

His eyes were locked on yours, and you took that opportunity to tease him further and undress. You took off your shirt and slowly unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them down your legs. When you reached for your back to remove your bra Johnny suddenly turned around and made his way to you, his hand keeping you from completing the action.

“Stop. We can’t do this.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Don’t you like me?”

“I think it’s pretty evident that I do,” he said while giving a nod in the direction of his erection. “But that doesn’t matter-”

“I like you too.” You grabbed the hand that was still holding your arm and lead it towards your crotch. “Look at how wet you make me Johnny.”

“Fuck.”

In a matter of seconds, Johnny’s lips were kissing yours, his whole body trapping you against the wall. The kiss was wild and passionate, like a ticking time bomb that had finally exploded.

His hands soon were on your ass, pulling you up so you could circle your legs around his hips. Your crotch rubbed onto his, causing both of you to moan against each other. One of Johnny’s hands made its way to your back and unhooked your bra, making way for his lips to leave yours and find comfort on your breasts. “Fuck Johnny.”

This time felt different than the first time you two fucked. The first time it was something more casual, you found each other hot and immediately went for it, but now? Now, feelings were involved. You had denied yourselves from each other for so long that all those feelings came spilling out.

Johnny turned around and dropped you on top of his king-size bed, his eyes hungrily devouring your semi-naked form.

“You know how fucking crazy you drive me?”

He got on top of you and slid his hand inside your panties once again, them being even wetter than before. His fingers toyed you with expertize and you couldn’t help but moan.

“That night at your house? Do you know how hard I had to hold myself back not to fuck you in that bathroom?”

“Fuck,” you moaned.

“I was so hard I had to jack one off on your couch. How pathetic is that?” His fingers entered you and you couldn’t help but pinch your nipples at the sensation.

“I was left imagining you all wet and beautiful in that shower and how good I’d fuck you in it.”

It didn’t take long for you to cum. In no time you were screaming his name as your walls pulsed around his fingers and your arousal gushed out.

As you were panting Johnny removed his fingers from inside of you and discarded his underwear, his length hitting him on his belly. He reached for the top drawer right next to the bed and removed a condom, immediately putting it on and getting back on top of you, leaving a trail of sweet kisses on your body.

“You know, that night in my house, you weren’t the only one who had to fight back.”

Johnny ceased all movement and looked straight at you, your confession sparking his interest.

“No?”

“Mmm-mmm.” You hummed in response as you ran your fingers through the skin on his back. “You got me so fucking horny that I had to masturbate in the shower.”

“Is that so?” Johnny started rubbing his cock up and down your pussy, making you moan in return.

“Yeah, I kept imagining you’d barge through that door and fuck the shit out of me.”

Johnny’s eyes darkened even more, your arousal dripping even more out of you.

“Poor baby. You were so hungry for my cock weren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Wanted me to fill up that little cunt of yours didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry baby. I’m here now.” Johnny connected his lips to yours and entered you making the both of you grunt and moan.

“Fuck I almost forgot how good you felt.”

He slowly moved in and out of you, his warm breath tickling your skin. His impressive size was causing you to hiss but you didn’t care - you wanted more.

“Harder.”

Johnny immediately abided and picked up his speed, intensifying the feeling of pleasure.

“Fuck Johnny, right there.”

“You’re so fucking beautiful, fuck you’re making me fucking crazy,” he confessed against your skin while his hips drilled into you.

Your hands were pulling on his brown locks as his hands circled around your neck, him clearly remembering how you liked it.

“John-”

You tried to say his name but the way he was currently pounding into you and constricting your airflow stopped you.

“Are you gonna cum on my cock baby? Is you little pussy gonna milk me dry?”

He let go of your neck for a second to let you breathe properly and answer him.

“Yes. Fuck I’m gonna cum so hard on you baby.”

“Do it.”

Johnny squeezed your neck tight once again as he kicked up the speed in which he was fucking you to another level and soon enough you were coming undone, your orgasm triggering his.

“Fuck Y/N,” he cursed as he spilled inside the condom, your walls clenching tight around him.

Johnny fell right next to you, his eyes looking at you with adoration.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said.

You didn’t say anything. You just nuzzled up into his chest and let yourself relax in the warmth of his embrace, your fingers trailing abstract patterns on his skin.

You both knew you would have to have a talk tomorrow, but for now, nothing would ruin the moment. For now, you would just blissfully be in each other’s embrace and sleep.

--------------------------

Y/N is the new nurse at NCT Hospital - the best hospital in the country. She was expecting it to be a big step in her career, but 'Bad Boy' Doctor Johnny Suh and 'Valentine' Pediatrician Jeong Jaehyun take her by surprise.

<< Previous | Masterlist | Next >>

Tag list (ask to be added): @ncitybub @noisek @nuoyii @sleep-is-all-i-seek @chasingmarkles @sktbzc0re @erisxczenie @lauraneuuh @jjhmk @heheimsoft @notbeforelong @cryingforjae @94ser0da @hmneighbors @yixing-jaehyun

Everyday @ 11 PM GMT

[aficwhore]

Truth Is

Chapter 1: A Night Many Months Ago

Frankie "Catfish" Morales x F!reader

Summary: When reuniting for the mission in Colombia, Frankie and the reader (nicknamed "Chipmunk"), bicker due to their rocky past. After some angry exchanges, a few truths come out, changing both of their perspectives. Will the relationship be mended? Or once this is over, will they go back to the way things were before?

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: explicit language, blood, violence, guns/weapons, lots of angst and emotions, infidelity, talk of sex and sexual encounters, drinking, mentions of drugs, talk of death, and talk of mental health(PTSD, depression).

A/N: This was inspired by the song "Truth Is" by Sabrina Claudio. I want to make this a series (my first series ever), but it's still being decided, so please let me know if you want this to be continued! And I am still taking requests and prompts! Thanks Lovelies <3

"Cmon, please Chip, we can't do this without you." Santiago begged, his hands clasped together in front of him to show his desperation as he stood before me in my small apartment kitchen. I sighed, glancing around our surroundings. He had come to ask about joining one last escapade, one last job and we'd all be set for the rest of our lives.

Finally breaking the silence and meeting his weary gaze, "Who all have you rounded up? If Will or Benny said no, there's no way I'm doing it without them." I took another deep breath, turning to continue the dishes I had been doing when Pope showed up.

Santi's face began to light up, his stance growing slightly as he grinned, "Great! They both wanted in, so did Tom." Seeming relieved he leaned against the counter next to the sink and crossed his arms.

"And F-Fish?" I hesitated, pausing the scrubbing on the porcelain dish in my hand. It felt like the air in my lungs no longer existed. My heart began to pound it's way up my throat and into my ears.

His head dipped down, feeling the concern laced in my voice. Clearing his voice, he quietly explained "Haven't asked him yet, he was last on my list."

I silently placed the last dish onto the rack near the sink and wiped my wet hands on my jeans, looking down and watching the wet marks gradually making themselves known. No longer forcing myself to make eye contact, I nodded at the ground.

"Look, querida, if you two just talked I'm sure it would work out." He pushed himself off the counter and stepped towards me, reaching a hand out and gently rubbing my shoulder to console me. "But don't let this change your mind, we really do need you."

"When are you going to mention it to him?" I breathed out, wanting to keep any and all emotions at bay. His hand on my arm squeezed, as if he was trying to give me some courage.

"Tonight, at Benny's fight, I thought his spirits would be up enough to persuade him." He chuckled lightly, knowing his plan was to take a little bit of advantage of Frankie's mood.

I laughed softly, "Definitely sounds like a Santi move if you ask me."

He smirked and shook his head "I know, shame on me." As he dropped his hand back to his side he quirked, "You should come tonight, we can go out for drinks after the fight, relax a little before we leave tomorrow."

It took me a second to register what he said, but when I did I burst out "wait what?! Tomorrow? Santi, why didn't you tell me that? You forgot the biggest detail!"

He cowered down slightly, rubbing the back of his neck "Because I knew you'd yell at me, it was worth a shot putting off the anger a little longer." He smiled coyly.

Rolling my eyes I couldn't help but forgive his dumb smile. "Well it starts soon, why don't I get my things real quick and we can head to the arena together?"

His smile widened, "Of course!" I grabbed my purse and keys, making sure to turn off the lights and lock the door behind me. As we made our way down the elevator and out to his car, Santi told me a few details about the missions and the plan. But once we got into his rinky dink ford truck, I turned to him.

"About Frankie, I'm sure one of the boys told you, but just in case; his license was revoked." Santi's face contorted with confusion.

"What? How? Did he crash or hurt somebody?" He questioned quickly.

After taking a breath of courage I spoke, "No Pope. He-He was caught with coke."

Santi stayed quiet, turning the engine on. "I don't get it" A sad expression plastered on his face.

With a furrow in my brow I spoke again, "What don't you get? He was doing drugs, hardcore ones at that". I began to ramble more, "For what reason, I'm not sure, maybe the PTSD and depression. Maybe he felt he had no one to go to-"

"Stop. I know." He cut me off while finally shifting the gear into drive and moving up forward. "You can't blame anyone for this. All we can do is move on and help him. He's our friend, okay? But I know he's still the same Fish, just a little turned around."

"I know, okay. I can't help it. From what the boys told me, he seems to be a lot better." I added, stirring in my seat. "Anyways, it's been awhile since all of us have been back together. It's exciting."

Santi snickered, "But didn't you all hang out while I've been out of the U.S.?"

Seeing that we're close to the arena's parking garage I explained, "I mean, yea, but only me, Ironhead, Benny and Fish. I haven't talked to Redfly in months, we all had a fallout with him. Especially me."

"Tom didn't say anything when I talked to him, Do you wanna fill me in?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Huffing, I turn to face him, telling him the events of that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The four of us, the Millers, Frankie and I sat on my couch, watching TV and talking, when we hear a bang at the door. I got up to open it and find Tom slumped on the doorway. He looked rough and smelled like he had been drinking the past several days. "Woah, Tom, you're really drunk, and you drove here?"

He snapped, beginning to yell, "Who are you to judge me? Huh? My wife left me, this is how I cope." He angrily pushed his way past me and tumbled into the living room. He was greeted with the boys standing around him with concerned faces.

"What the hell were you thinking? You know how dangerous that is? You know you could've called and we would've been there for you!" I raised my voice back, causing Tom to swing around to face me.

He laughed darkly, "Oh shut up 'Miss Perfect,' just like you did for Fish? When he was nose deep in coke? Or are you too self obsessed? Or do you just have favorites!"

"Hey man, that's not cool." Will interrupted and tried to get a handle on Tom. Frankie lowered his head in embarrassment. Will reached forward and placed a hand on his back, but things escalated more.

"Oh okay, yea protect the whore, we all know she's there for you guys more than just talking. I wouldn't doubt it if you all fucked her too. But me? Nah, you leave me out of everything." Tom howled, yanking away from Will and slurring his words and no longer making sense.

Anger becoming more prominent, I spoke, "Seriously?! Whore?! How is it my fault that you push us away and don't let us help? We include you in everything, but you have your head so far stuck up your ass you never show up!" I've come face to face with him, my hot breath and voice blowing into his face above me. "And another thing, I'm not a whore, you asshole, I'm with Frankie!"

He leaned closer to me, his breath reeking of alcohol, "Just him? Does he know where you're at everyday Monday and Wednesday at 1?! I doubt it!"

Frankie speaks up, "What? What is he talking about?" A devilish smirk makes its way to Tom's face.

"Nothing, I swear it's nothing." I try to explain, making eye contact with my partially hurt lover.

"Tell him, tell him you've been seeing a 'Dr. Philips.' Go on, do it." He rubs it in.

Looking behind Tom, I saw Frankie looking like his world had just shattered. "You've been seeing someone?!"

Panicking, I speak, "Yes, but it's not what you think, I promise!"

"Then what is it?" Tom adds, stumbling back a foot and crossing his arms contently at the damage he just caused.

Benny spoke up, knowing the truth about who I was "seeing." "You need to leave man, you have no right to say shit like that. You don't know the real situation"

Tom burst, yelling "I want her to admit it! I want her to admit that she isn't the perfect bitch she makes herself out to be!"

"Fuck you! Get the hell out of my house!" I scream, tears slightly welling in my eyes. "Frankie-" I turn to him, but to find him grabbing his things. "Baby please, let me explain."

"Explain what? You've been cheating on me?" his voice is loud, and cracks slightly.

A tear breaks its way down my cheek, "I haven't, Frankie, please believe me." I grab his hand, trying to stall his movements, but he pulls away.

"You just admitted it!" He frowns and yanks his hand away and heads for the door.

"That's right Fishie boy! Leave her, she's no good anyway!" Tom squawks as Benny grabs a hold of him and shoves him to the door, Will right behind to help.

"You bastard!" I lunged forward and swung my hand, landing right on the side of his face with a loud crack. Frankie spun around, startled at my actions.

The action only fueled Tom's anger because he ripped away from Benny's grip and grabbed me. I didn't back down and started to shove him and swing my arms, hitting him in the face and chest as he fought back.

But just as quickly as the fight started, it ended. Frankie tore me off of Tom, pinning me to his chest and stopping my brutal hits. Will and Benny wrested Tom into submission and dragged him out of the front door as he yelled slurs at me, and dumped him outside with a battered face.

While the brothers were dealing with a drunk Redfly, Frankie scolded and verbally fought with me.

"Just tell me! Who is Dr. Philips!" He questioned, slightly shaking me by the shoulders.

With many emotions running through my head, I couldn't process what was going on. "I-I can't, Frankie, I can't even admit it to myself." Tears streaming down my face I brought my hands up to the sides of his face. "But you have to believe me, por favor (please)."

Francisco looked like he was fighting an emotional battle in his mind. He finally spoke, "Either you tell me, or I leave, I can't do this, not if you keep things from me."

Feeling my heart break, I whispered "Please, mi amor (my love), don't make me. I'm not strong enough." My eyes now running like an open faucet and my hands tightly pressed to his cheeks.

He blinks away tears, reaching his hands up to grab mine and pull them away from his face, "Then I have to go." He drops my hands and turns to leave.

"Por favor no me dejes! (Please don't leave me)" I call after him, watching as he heads out of the door and into the night, leaving me alone. I drop to the floor, tears blurring my vision and all that can be heard are my sobs.

After what feels like hours, Will and Benny return, picking me up off the floor and taking me to my bed. They lay me down, attempting to help my emotional breakdown. They pick up whatever mess that was left after the event of that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And after that night, Tom was no longer invited anywhere with us. Frankie distanced himself and refused to talk to me. But Will and Benny did their best to be there for me in any way they could. They did the same for Frankie. But as for Tom, they casted him out, because he changed, badly." I finished covering the story of that night, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. "And the Dr. Philips I was seeing, was my therapist. I didn't want anyone to know I wasn't okay mentally. I was embarrassed and part of me didn't want to admit I needed help. The lives we chose aren't easy."

Santi parked, and seemed shocked, "I'm sorry love, I knew you split with Fish, but didn't know any details or about Tom." He reached over and patted my thigh sympathetically. "I really am sorry that you went through all of that because Tom was an asshole. You really don't have to do this-"

"No I want to, I'm in a better place, so is everyone else." I smiled shyly, wanting to lift the spirits. "So what do you say? Let's go wrangle up our boys and get rich?"

Pope smiled brightly, "Hell yes!" We both got out of the car, and headed to the back of the arena and knocked, hoping Will was there to open it like he told Santi he would. Much to our luck, the door swung open to reveal a tall, smiling, blonde Miller brother.

"Brother!" Santi chuckled as he pulled the eldest Miller into a hug, clapping each other on the back. They pulled away as Pope headed inside to find the others.

"Hey pretty girl, long time no see." Will joked, hugging me tightly.

I scoffed, "Will, you were just at my house last night." We both laughed and he led me into a rank smelling locker room, which I assumed was for Benny to get ready. As we rounded the corner, I saw Benny and Tom chatting on one of the benches between the lockers.

"Chipmunk!" Benny roared as he ran over, picked me up and spun me around. "I missed you! I'm so glad you could make it!" He sat me back down and stepped back to sit on the bench again.

"Of course, I wouldn't miss you getting your ass beat for the world!" I giggled as I winked at him, showing the younger of us a bit of love.

He shook his head with a grin. As my eyes left him, they met with the eyes of Tom. He seemed to have a look of regret, trying to give me a sad smile.

I walked over to him, reaching my hand in a fist forward, lightly tapping his shoulder, "Hey fly, how you been?"

A small wave of relief washed over him as he responded "I'm good Chip, how are you? And look I'm really sorry, I wasn't in a good place and I regret-"

"Its okay Tom, really, it is. I'm just glad you're better. It's water under the bridge." I sit next to him and pat his back, showing that all, or at least most, is forgiven.

He nods slowly, "Thank you, it means a lot that you're here."

"Oh cmon you have to admit it, you couldn't do it without me, the best there is." I pretend to act over confident and burst into laughter. And Tom joins in.

As Tom and I begin to catch up, talking about what we've missed these past several months, I overhear a conversation.

"Hermano (brother)! How are you?" Santi greets Frankie, I assume, he was the last of us, who wasn't already here. When I realize that it is him, my heart begins to race. My skin starts to burn and get hot, my palms becoming sweaty.

"Pope! Benny! Ironhead! What is this, a reunion?" Frankie's voice echoes as they come closer. As the three round the corner, "All we need is Redfly and Chip-" Frankie stops as we become revealed to him. Tom gets up immediately and struts over to give Fish a hug. Frankie's face lights up with glee and hugs him back. When they step away from each other, I wearily stand up and all he does is give an awkward smile and nods in my direction.

Benny attempts to whisper to Santi, "Ouch, that's cold." And Santi jabs him in the stomach with his elbow, causing him to double over and make a "hmf" sound.

Being slightly hurt, I break the uneasy tension by opening an invitation, "Alright well I'm gonna go get a beer and find us some good seats, it's close to showtime!" Faking a smile I continue, "Who's coming?"

"Me, I can't be in here with this doofus anymore." Will chuckle as he ruffles Ben's hair and follows right behind me.

When we make it to the concession stand and order beers, Will taps my arm, "How are you feeling?"

With a sigh, "Honestly I expected that, but it hurt more when it actually happened. But what can I say." I grab out drinks from the concession worker and thank her and turn on my heels to find a seat. "I love him, and if that means waiting to mend things, it worth it, even if it means waiting forever."

Will offers a sympathetic grin. "It'll work, just watch. Oh! Over there! Perfect seats!" He points as his attention was caught by an opening near the rink. He pursues it as I follow behind.

While we sit, we joke around, waiting for the rest of the gang to come sit and watch Benny get thrown around. Finally the last three show up and sit with us, Tom sat on Will's right side, me on his other side, Santi on my left, but when Frankie walks up, he bends down and whispers to Santi, causing him to scoot further away from me and leaving room for Frankie to slot himself between us. Which took me by surprise. Once he was seated, he glanced over to me and gave me a genuine smile.

We don't say a word as the lights begin to dim and the announcer's voice breaks through the speaks, introducing our dear Benny and his opponent.

Our small group starts to cheer and scream Benny's name, to show him support. As he enters the rink, he searches for us, and when he finds us, he smiles big.

In the midst of all the commotion, Frankie leans over and whispers to me, "I missed you, cariño (sweetheart)."

My face whips around to meet a very close Fish, who is smiling. "I missed you too." I give a small smile and lean to my side to shoulder bump him, as he places a hand on my knee.

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Inukag modern AU

For the first few days Kagome was back at the home she’d shared with Inuyasha, it felt a little strange and familiar all mixed up together. Their friends had helped in moving her things back into the house, but Inuyasha had given her the main bedroom and took the spare saying it might help her memories since that’s where she would normally have slept. During the day, he would go to work leaving Kagome time to wander around unencumbered. So, she took the opportunity to look through photo albums, keepsakes, or simply absorbing the feel of the place. Inuyasha had told her that she was the one who’d decorated it, and from what she could see, that all made sense. Perhaps that did help her in feeling a little comfortable and yet still somewhat of a stranger. To dispel those odd energies, Kagome took it upon herself to be useful, cooking dinner or cleaning, even doing his laundry despite him telling her she didn’t have to… Okay that chore did make Kagome blush the first time she came across his underwear, but she reminded herself she was a grown ass woman who may not remember yet but has seen him naked before so it’s not a big deal unless she made it into one.

All the little normal behaviors seemed to really help her memory to improve rapidly. Several times a day, Kagome would be doing something in the home and flashbacks would hit her. Mostly good ones or embarrassing things that must have made an impact. For instance, finding a bottle of wine in the cupboard and remembering a night she got so drunk Inuyasha had to carry her to bed. Or another, while moving a chair in the living room she remembered a friskier romp and later finding her bra under the couch the next time she cleaned. She was so happy it hadn’t been discovered by a guest or something because Sango probably would have teased her mercilessly.

But with all the memories coming back quicker, and her sense of comfort increasing, so too did a feeling of loneliness. At night, as Kagome laid in bed things felt less foreign and emptier, like something was missing. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that missing element was Inuyasha. This was their bed— their sharedbed, so it made sense that it wasn’t the same without him there. Kagome still felt nervous about it, but after three days of feeling that way and not getting a lot of sleep because of it, she’d asked him to move back into the room with her. Of course, even he was hesitant to do so, but she assured him it’ll be okay. She was certain he wouldn’t try to take advantage or anything. Even when after two days of this sleeping arrangement, she’d woken up to his arm casually around her, Kagome found she didn’t mind it at all… thankfully for his frantic relief.

Inuyasha popped his head into the bedroom. “Ready to go?” They had plans to go out for dinner that night to a favorite restaurant.

“Mmhmm,” Kagome replied as she did a quick check of her skirt and grabbed her purse.

The evening was an especially cherished one for two reasons. First, it was their sixth anniversary and second, but most importantly, Kagome was the one who’d remembered it. Three days earlier while going through her jewelry box, she’d picked up her promise ring and the memory of that event hit her like a ton of bricks. Before that moment the ring had just been another ring, but now, it was the latest trigger of a deluge of memories. So strong it was, that it had sent Inuyasha into quite a panic when he’d come home that day from work to find Kagome teary-eyed, but they’d been happy tears very much worth celebrating.

Things had been going so well, that Kagome almost felt back to normal. She was remembering more and more, her home felt like a home, and the hatchet was now buried between she and Inuyasha after they’d agreed to be honest about anything that was bothering them from now on. They talked out the bad and laughed through the good memories as they broke through. That day of coming clean had truly become a turning point for the couple and despite this whole situation starting off horribly, perhaps it will become the reason their relationship could last forever.

The restaurant was crowded that Saturday evening, as it was most days because of its popularity. Kagome and Inuyasha often chose it for special occasions due to the excellent food and service, as well as the reasonable prices. Dinner and dessert, with a glass of wine…

Kagome smiled at her husband from across the table. “You know what would be a nice way to end tonight? Taking a stroll in the park. The moon is really pretty.”

Inuyasha reached over the table and took her hand, smoothing his thumb gently over the skin. “That sounds like a perfect idea,” he smiled back. “Let me just go to the restroom first and we can check out of here.”

“Okay,” Kagome squeezed his hand back. “I’ll call the waiter for the check.”

He leaned down and kissed her hand, before standing up and walking away towards the restroom area, leaving Kagome at the table to watch for their waiter. She looked down and smiled as she rubbed her hand in the spot Inuyasha had kissed. It was silly, she knew, to feel the butterfly sensations over such a small yet sweet gesture, but it was fun to feel so in love again. To feel her skin, heat up when he kissed her or held her hand. The rush of excitement when he’d begun pulling her close at night… Kagome felt a blush blooming on her cheeks just thinking about the intimate moment they’d shared just a couple days ago. She’d finally felt comfortable enough to allow it, or rather had reached the point when her body could no longer resist the urge… and it was so much more than she could have ever hoped for. Inuyasha’s effects on her loins we’re simply supernatural.

A loud tap on the table suddenly jolted Kagome out of her thoughts, and her head shot up to see who was trying to gain her attention. She assumed it might be the waiter because she’d been so lost in thought, but oh… was she wrong!

Kagome’s eye’s flashed wide in a panic. “K-Kikyo?!”

The woman grabbed Kagome hard by the shoulder, digging her nails into the skin, her words seething in a controlled anger. “Get up. Don’t say a word and do exactly what I say if you don’t wanna get hurt.”

“No!” Kagome tried to shake the woman off, hitting at her hand as hard as she could. “Why can’t you leave me alone!” Her screams drew the attention of everyone around them, and the dining room instantly went silent. Her eyes searched frantically for an employee or Inuyasha, but all it found was the staff frozen in place unsure of what to do. “Somebody call the police!” She screamed.

But Kikyo was in too much of a blind rage to stop, knowing she only had seconds before Inuyasha or someone else might step in. So, she grabbed Kagome by the hair and twisted, yanking her with enough force to pull the screaming woman out of her seat or risk getting her hair pulled clean out. “You don’t deserve him!” Kikyo berated. “Why didn’t you just die that night! Why couldn’t you take the hint and just stay the fuck away, you stupid bitch!”

“Stop it! Stop it! You’re hurting me! Inuyasha! INUYASHA!” Kagome fought desperately to free herself, but every time she tried, Kikyo would twist and yank harder. “Help me!!”

A couple of male patrons sitting nearby, finally stood up to intervene, but that’s when Kikyo pulled a knife out of her pocket and held it to Kagome’s throat. “Try anything and I will cut her,” she spat at the men.

“Ma’am,” a manager stepped forward as well with his hands up as a show of neutrality. “Please put the knife down and let her go. The police are already on their way. You don’t want to do anything rash.”

“Please…” Kagome was sobbing from all the pain. She could feel the cool steel of the knife against her skin. “Please let me go, Kikyo. This has gone too far!” ‘And where was Inuyasha??’ Her mind begged. Surely, he would have heard the commotion by now or had his behavior all been a ruse? What if he’d planned this with Kikyo to get back at her? Kagome’s heart said no, but her mind was such a mess it didn’t know what to think anymore. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, wishing this would all just end… “Inu…”

“Ahhhh!”

The loud guttural scream of a mad woman made Kagome flinch. Was this the end? Her body tensed up expecting to feel the blade slicing into her throat as the woman finished what she’d come there to do… but instead her body just dropped to the floor with a thud. She was— free?! Kagome’s eyes popped open, and as she lay there crumpled on the floor, could only watch in horror and shock for above her Inuyasha had Kikyo’s wrists in a solid lock. She instantly recognized his demon form too, the red eyes and purple stripes along his cheeks. The hanyo was furious!

The manager and another patron quickly pulled Kagome away from the struggle and out of harm’s way. Kikyo was screaming and kicking, fighting against Inuyasha’s restraint but he was too strong. One of the other male diners managed to get the knife safely out of Kikyo’s hand, at which time Inuyasha was able to adjust his grip on the woman and yanked her hands behind her back, keeping her from getting away without breaking her arms.

“It’s been over you jealous, heartless dark bitch! Get it through your head!” Inuyasha roared. “There is something wrong with you! Kagome is gonna be my wife and you’ll never compare to the light she’s brought to my life!!”

“She doesn’t deserve you!” Kikyo screamed. “You should be mine! Not hers, mine!”

“It’s I who doesn’t deserve her, not the other way around you dumb bitch,” Inuyasha growled back. “But you don’t deserve me either!” He tightened his hold around her wrists, purposely digging his claws in to drive his point home as he growled low enough so only Kikyo could hear him. “You ever— EVER come around again, I’ll make you disappear.”

The cops arrived quickly enough to take over and immediately started their investigation. With a room full of witnesses to interview, it would be an easy case to make, just a lot of evidence to process. Kagome had been whisked away by the manager into a back office, away from all the activity so that medical personnel could evaluate and treat her injuries and simply give the poor woman peace to collect herself. Inuyasha was allowed to stay with her, holding her hand while the EMT’s did their job.

“I’m so sorry this happened,” Inuyasha apologized. “I shouldn’t have left you alone at the table.”

“You couldn’t have known she’d attack me,” Kagome tried to reassure him that she didn’t blame him. By that point, she’d already learned how Inuyasha had snuck up from behind while Kikyo was distracted by the manager, and that’s how he was able to detain her so quickly.

“It’s still my fault she was in our lives to begin with.”

“Inu,” she sighed, “we can’t change the past, only the future.”

Once the medical team cleared Kagome with just some minor abrasions to her head and hands, a police detective stepped in and separated she and Inuyasha for their interviews. She did her best to recount everything that happened but talking about it also brought back all the emotions with it. Tears gathered in her eyes, and her head throbbed, almost as if re-living the fear of almost being killed. The adrenaline had finally worn down and her heart had stopped racing. Kagome hadn’t thought about it until that moment, but even though everything had transpired so suddenly, it had taken an enormous physical toll on her body and all it wanted to do now was sleep. At the same time, her mind hadn’t stopped working in overdrive, because seeing Kikyo… no, being attacked by the woman triggered an overwhelming flood of memories. It was like a locked door suddenly being flung wide open.

“Are you okay?” Was the first question Inuyasha posed the second he was allowed to return to his girlfriend. His voice carried with it a high level of concern. “Should I get the EMT’s, because you’ve gone pale.”

Kagome nodded as she turned to face him. “I’m okay, it’s just Inuyasha I…” she took hold of his hands in a tight grip. “I remember everything…”

Now it was Inuyasha’s turn to go ashen white. “You… do?”

Tears re-filled her eyes as she continued to nod unconsciously. “Yes… yes… all the things she did to me… all the fights over it… and that night— the accident, I remember everything…” her voice petered out like the ending credits of a movie. “But it’s so weird that… I’m not upset.” Kagome fixed Inuyasha with a confused look. “Shouldn’t I be upset?”

“I-I don’t know,” his voice cracked.

“It almost feels like a relief,” Kagome unconsciously exhaled loudly as if to accentuate how puzzled she felt. “It was such a bad fight… but I just feel relieved to remember it at all.”

“Is that a good thing?” Inuyasha questioned cautiously.

“Yeah— I… You know, it is,” she finally smiled. “I think the nightmare is finally over and that’s why I feel so relieved. But there is one thing I need to ask you about Inu.”

“Of course! Anything.”

“You told Kikyo I’m gonna be your wife.”

Inuyasha’s body stiffened as a smile bloomed on his face along with the coloring on his cheeks. “Oh, yeah that,” he scratched his head nervously, “it just popped out in the heat of the moment.”

“But…” Kagome leaned forward to stop his shaky hands. “Did you mean it?”

“Actually…” Inuyasha reached into his pocket...

**Question for my readers**

What ending would you prefer?

- A regular ending chapter that takes place right after the dinner scene?

- An epilogue of them finally getting married?

* Throw out some ideas in the notes and maybe one (or more) of the ideas) will make it into the final chapter :)

[garlichoisan]

Singing in the shower | liu yangyang

➸ Genre: Fluff

➸ Pairing: Yangyang × f reader

➸ Word count: 7 197

➸ Information:

college!au, childhood friends, friends to lovers, friends!NCT Dream 00 line, bestfriend!Yeji (ITZY), very slight NoMin references (Jeno + Jaemin), mention of Mark Lee, reader is a few months older than YangYang (born in the same year)

➸ Warnings: A lot of fluff as usual.

➸ Plot:

You're forced to learn how to live without your closest friend from childhood who has to go live in Germany with his parents, leaving you heartbroken. You thought YangYang was going to be by your side forever. As years have passed and you've almost started to forget about him, he suddenly appears in your life again, turning it upside down, and this time, nobody's leaving.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

➸ A/N: This oneshot took me over 2 months and a half to write and was written as a part of my dear @renjunniehome's song fic challenge (?)

Not really a challenge, but it's an event where diffent NCT writers write fanfics based on songs so make sure to check it here: PLAYLIST FICS MASTERLIST

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“I don't know, it's just something about ya

Got me feeling like I can't be without ya

Anytime someone mention your name

I be feeling as if I'm around ya”

YangYang and you have always been a package deal; you were so close as children that at one point people couldn’t imagine one of you without the other and honestly, you also couldn’t imagine what your life would be without your best friend. There was something about him that made you feel butterflies in your stomach, even though as a child you could not identify and understand clearly what it was.

Besides that, your parents and YangYang’s were very close so you sometimes had family dinners together; that happened often, since you were neighbors and your houses were literally right next to each other. Your parents loved YangYang like their own son, maybe because he spent so much time in your house, had dinner there, and even stayed the night quite often for your sleepover parties. Of course, his parents were also very happy when you went to his house in order to spend time with him. Everyone in the neighborhood thought you’d end up marrying each other when you grow up, even if your child selves denied it with disgust. However, you couldn’t deny that your face always lit up when your parents told you YangYang and his parents would be coming over for dinner. Just the mention of his name made you start jumping with excitement.

But apparently everything good had to end sooner or later. You could still remember the shock you felt when you learnt YangYang would be leaving his house which was right next to yours in order to go live and study in Germany. He explained with glossy eyes that his parents have found better work opportunities there and that this probably meant you wouldn’t see each other very often. When you first heard this, you burst out crying, hugging him tightly, begging him not to go. Even though he also didn’t want to go, he was just a child so he had to leave with his parents. That left you heartbroken; you tried to text him in the beginning in order to keep in touch but it was getting difficult because of the time difference, as well as the lack of personal contact. Slowly you started to get used to life without him, no matter how much you wanted him back, but you couldn’t really learn to be happy without him.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Ain't no words to describe you baby

All I know is that you take me high

Can you tell that you drive me crazy?

'Cause I can't get you out my mind”

As the years were passing and you were growing up, you started to understand what your feelings for your childhood friend meant. Before you heard the word “crush”, you thought you just loved to be next to YangYang because he was funny and was making you laugh. But as a teenager, you realized you still missed him, even though you had no idea what he looked like now, how much he had changed, and most of all, you felt how you haven’t gotten over him at all. People your age started to date, but you weren’t interested in anyone, since subconsciously you kept comparing them to your childhood friend. You never even went to dates, and you realized how childish your behavior was, but honestly, nobody seemed like your type anyways. You barely had any friends, since the overly-romanticized idea of YangYang has turned into a standard for your friendships as well. You felt as if you were going crazy because of him as you only thought of him and how you would feel if you could meet him now.

* * *

A few years have passed and you were now in university, trying to live without the thought of YangYang as you realized you were probably never going to meet him again. Now you had some amazing friends who were bringing colors into your life and sometimes distracted you from thoughts about your childhood friend.

You were currently having lunch with your friends from your class. Suddenly you saw Jaemin, one of your friends, running towards your table and finding a place to sit, as he looked as if he was excited for some reason.

"Guys, big news! Apparently we're gonna have a new guy in our class. I heard he's German. I can't wait to meet him! European peopleare so good-looking!" Jaemin said with a dreamy gaze.

“Why would there be a German in our class?” You asked confusedly.

“I don’t know, that’s what the rumors are.”

As you heard the word ‘German’, you suddenly thought of YangYang again, trying to stop the association in your mind before it was too late. For the rest of lunch time you were a lot more silent than usual, quietly eating your food as Haechan was telling jokes, Renjun was laughing, and Jaemin kept annoying Jeno.

The next day you had an early class and as you heard your alarm ring, you groaned softly in annoyance, turning it off and literally rolling out of bed, as you fell to the floor, hugging your blanket, together with your bunny plushie which was actually a present from YangYang.

“Stop overreacting, you drama queen. Nobody has ever died from early morning classes,” your roommate and best friend, Yeji, said.

Sometimes you wondered how could she be so energetic, enthusiastic and optimistic, even early in the morning.

“Yeah, I might be the first one though,” you cried out, while holding the plushie tightly, refusing to accept the reality.

“Come on, if you get up now, I’ll buy you something delicious after classes,” Yeji promised, taking your hand to help you get to your feet.

When you heard her offer, your eyes lit up.

“Really?” You were still a little skeptical about believing her, even though you wanted to.

“Yes, knowing you, you’re probably just going to ask me to buy you a chocolate. Completely affordable,” Yeji chuckled, knowing she was right.

“Correct. Make it two, though. I feel this is going to be a difficult day.”

You finally took her hand and let her help you get up from the floor. After that you quickly put your plushie back in your bed, laying its head on your pillow, as you took the blankets from the floor and put them over the plushie, wanting it to feel warm. Yeji watched your actions with a wide smile on her face.

“Aww, you’re so cute. Now go get ready, or we’ll gonna be late.”

“Oh, how tragic that would be,” you said sarcastically, before going to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth.

* * *

When you and Yeji entered the lecture hall, you found your classmates being more energetic and chattier than usual. You also noticed your friends, who were talking to a new guy, probably the one Jaemin mentioned the day before, as you recalled.

“Honestly I was a little disappointed to find out you weren’t actually German,” you heard Jaemin say and you giggled quietly.

“If those weird comments don’t scare the new guy off, I’d be really impressed,” Yeji noted, as she found a place near the window and you sat next to her.

“I agree,” you laughed, turning around to look at the new guy once again.

He looked somehow familiar to you, but you couldn’t tell why. When he noticed you looking at him he just stared at you for a couple of seconds while Jaemin and the rest of your friends were probably bothering him. You could swear you’ve seen those shiny dark brown eyes somewhere else before. But as you realized you were still looking at the guy, you quickly averted your eyes, so that he wouldn’t think you were some kind of a creep. You thought that maybe there was not a particular reason for his familiar vibe: maybe he just looked like somebody you’d befriend, that’s why he looked as if you already knew him, or at least that’s what you believed.

“I see the new guy has already caught your eye. The question is, how did he achieve that? You’re not usually interested in others,” Yeji pointed out.

“I-I’m not looking at him,” you denied, shaking your head. “Guys are basically a loss of time, except for my friends. But they’re too dumb for me to date one of them. Besides, only two of them are boyfriend material, they are Jaemin and Jeno, and they’re basically almost dating each other, even though they don’t know it yet,” you explained, taking your textbook out.

As you mentioned Jeno, you saw him coming to you and you looked at him questioningly.

“We promised to show the new guy around after this class, and then we’re going to have lunch with him. You and Yeji can also join us,” Jeno suggested and Yeji nodded.

“We’d love to!” You smiled and Jeno smiled back, returning to his seat, next to Jaemin.

When English class ended, you and Yeji went out of the lecture hall, waiting for your friends and the new guy. They were soon here and you all started walking around the hall, as you heard Haechan talking about the variety of books in the university’s library even though you’ve never seen him actually go there, so you were wondering how he knew this information. Meanwhile you and the new guy continued looking at each other and then averting your gaze without saying anything. You realized he still hasn’t introduced himself to you, but you couldn’t ask him for his name, because you were shy, so you just continued walking in silence, as the ones who were talking were mainly Haechan and Renjun.

When you went to the cafeteria and found a table, you left your things, so that the guys could watch over them, and you went to buy food with Yeji.

“Seriously, what’s going on between you and the new guy? You can’t stop looking at each other. You’ve never looked at a guy like that, so you can’t convince me you don’t like him,” Yeji stated, demanding an answer, as she took a bowl of rice.

“He just looks familiar, I don’t know why though. That’s all.”

“You know that when you meet your soulmate for the first time, you feel as if you already know each other?” Yeji asked, as you paid for your food and started walking back to the table with your best friend walking after you.

“Shut up,” you hit her arm playfully; you really wanted her to stop saying things like that.

When you went back to the table, you noticed only Jaemin and Jeno were there. Jaemin was feeding Jeno, holding a spoon of rice which he put into his mouth.

“Eat a lot, handsome,” Jaemin winked at Jeno who averted his head with discontent. “Do you want some kimchi?” He asked, as Jeno nodded, even though he didn’t want his best friend to feed him.

“Why are you feeding him? Can he not hold the utensils himself?” Yeji asked, as you hit her arm again.

“Be quiet, you’re ruining the romance,” you scolded her, as you continued looking at your two friends, as you sat across from them.

“What romance are you talking about, I just lost a bet,” Jeno groaned in disagreement with your statement.

“Was the bet letting Jaemin show his love for you freely?” You questioned him, as Jeno looked too flustered to answer.

“Something like that,” Jaemin confirmed. “Ah, Jeno, you’re such a messy eater! Here, let me wipe that off,” he said, as he wiped the rice off Jeno’s lips, using a tissue.

“Cute,” you whispered, looking away as you started eating your own lunch.

“Jaemin’s actions are making me want to throw up,” Yeji confessed, taking her fork and starting to eat her food in silence.

“You’re not the only one, I feel the same way,” Jeno agreed quietly, looking at Jaemin as if he was going to kill him every second now.

A few minutes later the new guy approached your table, holding his own tray of food, setting it down and sitting next to you. Your heart skipped a beat just because of his decision to sit next to you. You didn’t know why him being close to you was making you feel this special, so you tried to brush it off, but you couldn’t; so during the rest of the lunch you were actually in a very good mood, even though you and the new guy still haven’t talked to each other directly at all. When Haechan and Renjun joined you, you talked to them a lot, trying not to think about the stranger next to you, since you were too shy to ask for his name, and he apparently didn’t want to say it to you or ask you about yours.

As you were done with lunch, you stood up from the table and took your tray in your hands, looking at the new guy as he was doing the same. When he took his own tray, though, you noticed he dropped something. You quickly bent down to get it and give it back to its owner. But before handing it to him, you took a quick look at it – it was a discount card for the food in the cafeteria. You saw his picture and you read your name, saying it out loud as you realized something.

“Yang… Yang?” You looked up in disbelief.

He looked at you with a smile and he nodded.

“Yes, YangYang is my name, not a nickname as people usually think. Sorry for not introducing myself to you earlier, I was just distracted since you seemed really familiar for some reason,” he said, as you handed him his discount card.

“Um, I… My name is Y/N,” you introduced yourself quietly, as you waited for his reaction.

There were two possible ways this could go: he would either recognize his own childhood best friend, or he would take your hand, as he hears your name for the first time, if he wasn’t your YangYang, but some other guy with the same name. But to you, now it all made sense. The visual resemblance, his voice, his cheerful personality… But you still wanted to be sure it was actually him, before hugging him excitedly.

“You… Bunny?” He called you by your nickname he came up with when you were younger. He thought you looked energetic and playful, just like a bunny.

You nodded, as you couldn’t stop smiling.

“You don’t know how much I missed you!”

Before you could do anything, he put his tray and card down on the table as he hugged you tightly. You were a little taken aback for a couple of seconds, slowly realizing your wish has come true. You and your best friend were finally together.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Thinkin' of ya when I'm goin' to bed

When I wake up think of ya again

You are my homie, lover and friend

Exactly why”

As you and Yeji went back to the dorms, you didn’t even have any motivation to study, because you were too busy thinking about your amazing day. You still couldn’t believe this was actually him, your childhood best friend who you were meeting so many years after he left for Germany, after you had lost hope of seeing him ever again. You were hugging your plushie, as you were jumping around the room, repeating that tomorrow you were meeting YangYang after classes in a café, where you could talk to each other and get updates on his life, even though everything seemed as if it was still the same; even YangYang haven’t changed in your opinion, except for becoming more handsome now as an adult.

Yeji was smiling at you, as you told her about your long story with your childhood friend. She was sincerely happy to see you so excited and she wished everything would turn out well for you. You kept thinking about him before going to bed and even after you woke up, starting your day with a smile on your face.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“You light me up inside

Like the 4th of July

Whenever you’rearound

I always seem to smile”

A few weeks have passed since your reunion with YangYang; now you were used to hanging out together all the time, just like before, realizing that neither of you really changed. You craved each other’s attention and presence just the same way as when you were kids. Today you decided to visit a café with a nice atmosphere, suitable for a cozy afternoon and long conversations. After classes were over, you said goodbye to Yeji, as she wished you to have a good time on your date, but you were quick to correct her this wasn’t a date (even though you secretly wanted it to be) and went out of the classroom together with YangYang.

On the way to the café you couldn’t stop talking to each other. Your topics were never ending and it was always exciting spending time together for both of you. You couldn’t stop smiling as he said funny things to you, or even when he didn’t say something that entertaining; you just loved his company so much, that you enjoyed every second you spent with him. Around twenty minutes later you got to your destination and he opened the door to the café for you, then you found a nice table near the window. You both ordered hot chocolate as you continued with your conversation.

“Do you wanna go watch a movie tomorrow? They’re projecting a Marvel movie,” YangYang asked as he gave you a little additional information.

You smiled, even though you honestly disliked these movies, but you only watched them so that you could spend time with YangYang. You’ve watched every single Marvel movie, since your best friend was obsessed with them for some reason.

“Of course, I’m so excited!”

“Great, I’ll book the movie tickets now,” YangYang said with a wide smile on his face, as he unlocked his phone and typed the website’s name to book the tickets.

“Um, Yangie,” you hesitantly started speaking, not knowing if you should continue your sentence.

“Yeah?” He asked, not looking away from his phone.

“I’m going home this weekend, in my hometown. Do you wanna go with me?” You suggested, even though you felt a little shy to be inviting your childhood friend in your house and have the same sleepovers you used to.

“Really? That would be amazing!” Fortunately, he seemed really happy to hear your idea. “Your parents are also going to be there, right?” After you nodded, he continued speaking. “Can you tell your mom to please prepare my favorite cream cheese muffins for her special guest?” He looked at you with pleading eyes you could never say no to.

“Hey, YangYang! Do you only care about food?” You scolded him, as you playfully hit his arm.

“This is my main priority, yes.” He answered, matching your energy. “But you take the second place, you’re the second most important thing to me other than food.”

He looked at you and for a moment you forgot how to breathe. You were looking at his eyes, getting lost again and again; it felt like you were getting out of the trance he put you on, only to fall deeper the next time you looked at him.

“Are you okay?”

His voice showed concern, but his face had a unreadable look; not worried, but also not calm. It was like he knew exactly how he made you feel.

“Uh, yes, sorry, I just zoned out for a second,” you explained as you avoided his gaze. “I’m gonna call my mom later and ask her to prepare the muffins,” you informed him, as you took a sip from your hot chocolate.

“You know I don’t really care, right? I just want to be with you,” he admitted, as you coughed when you heard that. “Are you alright? First you zoned out, now you can’t drink your hot chocolate… So my theory must be true,” he said with a content tone and you looked at him in surprise.

“What theory?” You asked as you continued coughing until you were okay.

“Never mind. Just be careful next time.”

You nodded as you silently took another sip, trying to avoid his eyes.

Around an hour later it was time for you to leave, so you went back to the dorms. He smiled and waved at you, and after you waved back, you finally entered the room you and Yeji shared. You closed the door as you rested your back on it, breathing loudly. Your heart was beating fast and you wanted to make sure you’ve calmed down before you greet Yeji. Now you were absolutely sure you were in love with your childhood best friend and that fact made you quite nervous. You never felt that way before and you weren’t even sure if he felt the same way about you. But despite your worries, you smiled widely before knowing it. You felt like you couldn’t even control your emotions and it made you very confused. You slowly went to your room, then you left your bag on your chair and you took a step towards your bed and you just laid on it for a minute, staring at the ceiling, trying to stop thinking about YangYang, but it was more difficult than you expected.

“What’s wrong? Didn’t the date with YangYang go well?” She teased you and you turned to look at her, rolling your eyes with annoyance.

“It was nice, except it weren’t a date,” you corrected her, sighing loudly. “But why is my heart being like that?” you whispered, putting your head on your heart as you kept looking at the ceiling with concentration, as if you expected to find all the answers of your questions there.

“Maybe because you wanted it to be a date?”

You decided to ignore her, but then she spoke again.

“Look at me, the ceiling won’t talk to you like I can,” Yeji reminded you as you looked at her discontentedly.

“Yes, but it also won’t make fun of me like you do.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I just find it amazing that you’re finally interested in somebody,” she said, as she smiled excitedly.

“You could have stopped after ‘sorry’, you know?” You shot her another annoyed look and she raised her eyebrows as if to say she didn’t care. “Never mind, I’m going to take a shower.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“And people ask me how

Well you’re the reason why

I'm dancing in the mirror and singing in the shower”

As you felt the hot water running down your body, you felt a wave of calmness washing over you. Your mind kept going back to thoughts of YangYang and your incredible day with him, as well as the excitement of going home together with him. It was something you wished for so many years, just having him back with you, the two of you together in your room, playing Plants vs. Zombies or Mortal Kombat, some of your favorite PC games back at the time, when you both were around 10 years old.

Without realizing it, you started singing a random song you’ve heard in school today that somehow happened to be a romantic one, matching perfectly with your good mood and your feelings for your childhood friend. Around half an hour later, you got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around your body. Then you took the hairdryer and stood in front of the mirror, drying your hair, but you felt so energetic and happy that you started dancing in front of the mirror. You were holding the hairdryer and you were moving your body randomly, keeping a smile on your face, even though that way drying your hair took much longer time than usual.

When you finally turned the hairdryer off, you noticed Yeji standing in the doorway of your room, looking at you with a wide smile. You rolled your eyes at her for the millionth time today, realizing she may have witnessed at least a part of your dancing in front of the mirror. She giggled, but you decided to act as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, as if you were always that cheerful.

“Why are you laughing?” You asked, as you put the hairdryer back in its place.

“Someone has a crush,” Yeji almost sang that sentence. “I’ve never heard you singing in the shower and seen you dancing in front of the mirror before… Is it really possible that YangYang is the reason behind all that? Could he have changed your usual grumpiness into cheerfulness?”

“What do you mean? I’m the same as usual,” you denied all her claims coolly, sounding credible enough, since you weren’t such an inexperienced liar; you couldn’t say the same for your love life though – you really lacked experience in that part, knowing that calling yourself a “dater” would be factually incorrect.

“Yeah, okay. But if things between you really do work out, I want to be the first one you’re going to share the news with! You’re gonna tell it to Jeno, Jaemin, Renjun and Haechan later,” Yeji stated, as you were looking at her with confusion.

“Calm down, there won’t be any news to tell,” you laughed as you quietly went back to your shared room.

But the part of you that you tried hard to suppress, really hoped you were wrong.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“All I want, all I need is your lovin'

Baby you make me hot like an oven

Since you came you know what I've discovered

Baby I don't need me another”

The next day was Friday, the day you would come back home together with YangYang, being there with him for the first time in many years. A few days ago you’ve told your mother about reuniting with him and to say she was ecstatic would have been an understatement; she felt as if she was welcoming her second child who has been away for a long time, so she wanted to make sure everything was perfect for him. She even cleaned your room since you weren’t there to do so and its usual state was beyond messy; definitely not the best place to show to such an important and dear guest.

You couldn’t wait to go, but before that, you had classes that seemed endless to you; time seemed to be passing too slowly and for a moment you even thought about suggesting YangYang to skip school today, but your good girl reputation prevented you from doing so.

When the professor said his last words for today, concluding the lecture, you took your backpack. You had put your stuff in it a few minutes ago, while the professor was explaining something about an exam or an “extremely important” group project; you weren’t sure, since you weren’t listening after all. You took out the little mirror you kept in your bag to make sure you looked alright. You tried to comb your hair with your fingers, then you applied a new layer of your favorite pink lipstick; you took so much time with your make up today, even though you usually didn’t wear a lot. When you were ready, you ran to the exit of the auditorium, as YangYang was already waiting in front of it.

“You might need to turn Yeji down,” he said, as you raised your eyebrows questioningly. “The group assignment Mr. Lee mentioned, groups of two are also allowed, so you’re with me.”

So this was what you missed as you were too busy putting your stuff in your backpack in order to be able to leave as early as possible. You smiled at him when you heard his words that made a warm feeling blossom in your body.

“Are we ready to go? All I need is in my backpack, so I don’t need to go back to the dorms, unless you want to.”

“I’m also ready. Let’s go,” he smiled, taking your hand and leading you to the exit of the university.

As you were walking next to him, your hand in his, you felt your heart beating unusually fast; but instead of this making you feel nervous, you felt the same warm feeling spreading through your whole body and this time, you were ready to let go and have fun, without holding back anymore.

“So we have a bus in 15 minutes,” you informed him, as you looked at your phone.

“A bus?” He asked before he stopped walking and you stopped looking at the phone and noticed an expensive black car parked in the university parking. “Why don’t we take a ride in my car?” He leaned on it, tapping the roof softly.

“This car is yours? I can’t believe it, you’ve really grown up, Yangie,” you said with a disbelieving voice in order to tease him, but you still sat next to the driver’s seat in his car, as he has opened the door for you before getting on himself. “Even though I’m a few months older than you, I still don’t have my driver’s license, but I’m working on it,” you said with a discontented tone. You were nervous about driving and when you were stressed, you couldn’t do well so you were trying to get your driver’s license for quite some time now.

“You can do it,” he encouraged you with his usual cheerful tone, holding his fist in the air for a second as a sign of encouragement, as he started the car and left the university parking.

* * *

When you were finally in front of your house, you quickly got off the car as you started jumping around with excitement. He smiled at you as he also got off and when the both of you took your backpacks from the car, you rang the bell of your house. A few seconds later your mom opened the door, welcoming you with warm hugs and her usual good mood, as well as a wide smile.

“Wow, I haven’t been here for such a long time,” YangYang mentioned, as he kept looking around. “Wait, what is this smell? It’s amazing!”

“Oh, it’s the muffins,” she smiled again. “By the way, Yangie, you’ve grown so tall! And my little Y/N is still the same as before, she didn’t really grow up a lot,” your mom teased you,

“Hey, you’re shorter than me, so you aren’t allowed to make fun of me!” You playfully scolded your mom, as you sighed in annoyance.

“But you like girls shorter than you, right, YangYang?” Your mom asked your childhood best friend and you wanted the ground to swallow you up right now since you were so ashamed.

You knew she was only asking this since she shipped you and YangYang romantically ever since you two met. She was truly scared for you not to end up single, while you were living your life, rejecting every guy that tried to flirt with you, especially because they weren’t YangYang. You perfectly understood your own feelings so you knew that you didn’t need and didn’t really want a relationship if it wasn’t with him.

“Actually, yeah, I really like girls like that,” YangYang smiled confidently, looking at you. “They are adorable,” he looked away and only then you could breathe. “And they make me feel tall even though I’m not,” he laughed, as your mother was looking at him with pure adoration in her eyes.

“Ah, you’d be such a perfect son in law! Handsome, good mannered, with a good height and you also know a lot of languages, just like my Y/N! I’m honestly so jealous of your future mother in law,” your mom continued to make you want to disappear and you were on the verge of just taking YangYang’s hand and leading him somewhere far away from that house.

“Believe me, you do not need to worry about that,” YangYang said as he kept smiling at your mom.

Even though you didn’t know what he meant, you really wanted to take him somewhere else, where he wouldn’t be able to talk to your mom.

“Dad is still at work, right? Please ask him to buy iced tea and tell us to come when dinner is ready, see you later,” without waiting for your mom to answer, you took YangYang’s hand and led him upstairs and then into your room.

He was looking around as if he was visiting a foreign place he has never been to before.

“You changed your room color…” He said as he touched the wall. “Baby pink suited you though. Also your curtains are different. I liked the old ones with teddy bears on them, but these are fine too. And the bed… It’s seems suitable for more than one person,” he kept commenting the details about your room, but this time his tone was different, and his look was honestly making you nervous. “Have you invited many guys here, Y/N? In this room, on this bed?”

His question made you choke on air; you were looking at him with shock written all over your face.

“W-why would I…”

You wanted to be honest with him, but then realized that this would probably make you look so boring to him.

“It’s not your business.” You quickly answered, sitting on your chair.

“Ah, my innocent Y/N… I guess I’m the only guy who is not a family member that has been to your room,” he continued teasing you as you glared at him warningly.

“That’s not true! Jaemin, Jeno, Haechan and Renjun have been here too!” You quickly denied his claims.

“Yeah, but I doubt you felt something for any of them.”

You stayed silent for a few seconds before deciding to change the topic.

“Do you wanna play Plants Vs. Zombies?” You suddenly asked.

“Of course! Let’s go!” He answered enthusiastically, seating on the chair next to yours.

It was a whole miracle how you could change the atmosphere and his demeanor just by mentioning a PC game. You started playing and suddenly he was the same old YangYang you knew and loved.

“Plant a sunflower, quickly!” You said, as you were looking at your laptop’s screen.

He did as you said, waiting to get another sun so we could buy another plant.

“Quickly, the zombies are coming!” You were clapping excitedly, looking at your childhood friend play the game you used to play all the time when you were kids.

You were so happy that you got closer to him without realizing.

“You’re making me nervous by staying so close to me,” he confessed, giggling softly.

“A-ah, s-sorry,” you quickly apologized as you moved away from him.

When you decided to take a break from the game, you offered him to watch a movie and he agreed, laying on your bed and you reluctantly laid next to him, trying not to get too close to him. You opened Netflix on your TV and the two of you took some time to choose a movie.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“No, no all I know (know)

Only you got me feelin' so (so)

And you know that I have to have ya

And I don't plan to let you go”

You haven’t watched the movie even halfway when he pressed the pause button.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said, sighing deeply as if he had something that caused him a great amount of stress.

“Do what?” You asked him worriedly.

Was he sick? Was he bored? You thought of so many different things that you could have done which could have irritated him.

“Pretend that everything between us is still the same. Pretend I don’t want to kiss you right now.”

Your eyes widened with shock when you heard his confession, but before you could say anything, he continued talking.

“We’re not kids anymore, Y/N. And I think we did change through all these years. It’s our chemistry that’s still the same. Tell me that you’re feeling it too,” he was talking in a husky voice which made you imagine things you thought you shouldn’t.

YangYang looked at your eyes hesitatingly, then at your lips, or at least that’s what you thought you saw him looking at, even though for you, it didn’t make any sense for him to be looking there, even after hearing him say he wanted to kiss you. You felt as if that whole situation was just a dream and nothing that happened was going to affect reality in any way. But as you were busy overanalyzing things as usual, you felt a strange, yet addicting sensation. As your eyes were still open, you looked at YangYang who was kissing you. You couldn’t believe that was happening, but you quickly closed your eyes, enjoying his lips on yours. Your heart was beating fast as you tried to remember this sweet feeling, savouring the taste of his lips. When he moved away, you slowly opened your eyes, looking at his with confusion, yet with trust. You were sure that whatever was going to happen, you were safe and happy with him.

“I- You… Uh, did you like that?”

You nervously nodded, as you were wondering what to say.

“Great, I did too. Does that mean you like me back?” YangYang wanted to check in with you, before officially asking you the last question he wanted to ask ever since he realized who you were back in the canteen that day.

“You’re so special to me, YangYang. I like you a lot,” you confessed, feeling a little shy, but still trying to keep his eyes on him, because you thought he deserved to know exactly how you felt about him without finding out how nervous you actually were. “By the way, that was my first kiss and I’m so happy it was with you,” you looked at him adoringly.

“Really? That’s so cute!” He exclaimed with a sweet smile. “So you’re sure you haven’t kissed anyone from your friends group?”

“Actually I kissed Jaemin and Jeno on the cheek once at a party because of a dare. And on the same night Haechan and I got so drunk that we almost kissed, but our friends stopped us before we ‘unlock a whole another relationship’, as they said.”

YangYang sighed with annoyance before mustering up the courage to ask you the most important question.

“Do you want to be like… Uh, you know?”

You were looking at him with confusion written all over your face.

“You sound just like Mark, he’s a friend of mine who’s one year older than us,” you teased him, since you really found his nervousness to be cute.

“Come on, you know what I’m trying to say,” he tried to avoid saying it out loud, but you weren’t going to let him do that.

“Do I know, Yangie? How can I know if you haven’t said it yet?”

“You went from a shy girl to a smug girl in just a second,” he mumbled with discontent.

“But you’re the same! You were teasing me earlier and now you sound like Mark Lee!” You complained.

“Who is Mark Lee?” YangYang asked even though he didn’t really insist on knowing; he just wanted to postpone asking his main question for as long as possible.

“That Mark guy I told you about! Are you even listening to me?”

“Should I be jealous of him?” He pouted as he was waiting for your answer.

“Maybe you should,” you continued provoking him in order for him to properly ask you what he wanted to.

“Come on! Aren’t your four handsome guy friends enough people to be jealous of? When I see how you’re looking at Yeji, sometimes I’m jealous of her too! I also can’t stand it when Haechan looks at you as if he has so many improper thoughts. Or when Jeno and Jaemin ask you if you have eaten. Or when Renjun is smiling at you and laughing at your jokes! Ah, I hate it so much that I want to punch-“

You interrupted YangYang with a kiss.

“My answer is yes.”

“You’re going to be my girlfriend?” He asked, hoping you would agree.

“No, I’ve never heard you ask that,” you crossed your arms, smiling at him playfully.

“You’re going to be my girlfriend because I said so~,” he almost sang that sentence, as he decided to make sure you were incapable to refuse by suddenly making you fall on your bed as he trapped your body under his.

“No, I’m not going to do it~,” you answered in the same tone, as you tried to flip him over, so that you could be on top of him.

But when he noticed what you were trying to do, he caught your wrist and kissed your lips deeply, making you forget everything else. In that moment you relaxed under his touch feeling safer than ever. You kissed him back with the same lust as his, as your fingers threaded through his fluffy hair. You continued passionately kissing each other for a few minutes, taking very short breaks to breathe, since you both missed each other’s lips too much to stay separated even for a few seconds that felt like an eternity for you.

But when you heard a knock on your door, YangYang quickly got off you and he sat on the bed innocently, as you followed his example. You quickly fixed his hair which was quite messy because you were running your fingers through it all the time.

“Y-you can come in,” you said with a voice that was a little distorted, while you were trying to normalize your heavy breathing.

When you said that, the door opened and your dad came in.

“Hi, Y/N. Here’s the iced tea,” he said, giving you the bottle of iced tea which you contentedly took from his hands and left on the ground. “YangYang, it’s great to see you again,” he smiled and YangYang smiled back. “Dinner is ready, so you can come downstairs,” your dad said and you nodded synchronously. Then he turned around and walked out the door, closing it.

YangYang got up from your bed as he gave you his hand, which you took. He kept holding your hand as you were walking down the stairs.

“I guess your parents are really going to have the best son-in-law,” YangYang said and as soon as you realized he was talking about himself, you hit his arm as you laughed.

You were finally truly happy again; you felt having YangYang by your side meant that nothing was impossible and all your dreams could come true, just like the seemingly unrealistic dream of having him back while you were longing for him all these years. It turns out your long wait was absolutely worth it and now that he was here with you again, you weren’t going to let him go.

[shespeaksinsongs]

You Are My New Fear | Letters To My Mom

TW: MOMMY ISSUES, MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION, SUICIDE, AND ANXIETY.

Me in my game room at about five years old.

I wish somebody would have told me that that smile I used to slather onto my face so effortlessly would soon become something I forced. I'm not sure if it would have made a difference, but it's best to be prepared in any case.

-

"What's your biggest fear?" My elementary best friend asked, kicking her feet giddily under the table. We were still too little to reach the floor.

"Drowning." I'd say, with a panicked look on my face, growing pale at the mere thought of dying that way.

-

"What are you most afraid of, hija?" My dad asked on our regular morning car rides to school.

"Drowning." I'd say, without even thinking twice. The answer was almost prepared, seeing as how casually it rolled off my tongue.

-

"What's your biggest fear?" My friend asked in the comfort of her room, watching as I shifted uncomfortably in my spot on her bed.

"Becoming my mother." I'd say wishing that drowning was the most of my worries.

-

I don't know when my default answer of drowning to death switched to the terrifying idea that I would, one day, become my mother. Still, somewhere along the lines, those little moments that I would suck up to my mom and gift her pretty pictures I spent hours working on and picking daisies from my backyard for her turned into scheduling my crying for nighttime when everyone was asleep.

Slowly but surely, I became uneasy about the idea of marriage, fearing that I'd only ruin it and become a wife like my mother. The idea of having children scared me to the point where I felt I would rather sacrifice my own happiness so that my children wouldn't have to live to see the day I turn into my mom.

Because in my eyes, my mom is a monster. She's not the kind of monster that has big, sharp teeth and scary yellow eyes, and a menacing growl. She's the kind of monster that you would never suspect. She's the bloody hand, but you were the accomplice. She was the screwdriver, but you were the loose screw. Sure, she hurt you, but you let yourself be hurt by her - so really, whose fault was it?

My mom is the kind of monster that uses your vulnerability against you in the worst way possible.

-

"I'm just not feeling good right now. I feel like I'm dying, and I feel tired all the time." My sixth-grade self, awkwardly positioned in the passenger's seat, turning my head away from my mom.

"Well, you know we care about you." My mom said, stoic in her demeanor and ultimately still in how she held her body up.

It was a day I'll never forget. She picked at her fingernails and anxiously tapped the gas pedal, waiting for me to be done talking about my emotions so she could drive back "home."

Warm tears stung my eyes, forcing their way down my face in slow streams. "You don't get it, I-" I stopped, knowing it wasn't worth it to try to make my mom understand feelings she'd been adamant didn't exist.

"Ay, don't be so dramatic." My mom said, waving her hand up to dismiss me and my silly ideas. She was right. I wasn't depressed or anxious, and I definitely didn't look for any excuse possible to threaten suicide against myself. My mom said so.

-

I don't know why I kept running back to her in times of need. Maybe it was my dream version of her that I relied on to justify my ever-growing love for her. Feasibly, it was the person I wanted her to be. And perhaps, just perhaps, my expectations of her drove me to the point where I'd convinced myself my mother was the person I saw when I closed my eyes at night.

I remember telling her things, spreading rumors I'd heard about people in the family, hoping that it would make us closer. The things I did just to make her happy...

-

"Mom, I'm trying my best!" I cried on the floor, cleaning up the mess my new puppy had made. She'd pooped and peed all over the kitchen. I was exhausted, previously knocked out in my bed, when my mom called me downstairs, screaming for me to get my ass down there.

"No, you're not! You never try! You're useless! I should've never had you!" My mom yelled from the bottom of her heart (or lack thereof).

Tears welled in my eyes for the millionth time because of my mother. This wasn't the first time she'd wished me dead, and it sure wouldn't be the last time. "Mommy, please just leave me alone and let me clean up." I begged, letting broken sobs come out of my mouth. I wanted to hurt her, and I wanted to hurt her as bad as she hurt me.

My mom refused to leave, yelling at me, watching as I piteously scraped my dog's contents off the wall.

-

It's sad that the only good memories I have of my mom are those I couldn't participate in. Instead, I have stories of her youth and how caring of a mother she used to be when I was a baby - conveniently so far back that I can't remember it. It pains me more knowing how she was before she had me, her firstborn. If she were this way her whole life, would I take it so personally?

Am I dramatic for wishing I had a mother who could hug me back when I hugged her? Am I a selfish and pathetic bitch for feeling envy when I see how my friends' moms act with them? Why can't my mom love me the way she loves her? Why does my mom have more pictures of her first niece than she does of me? What did I do to her?

-

"Mommy, mommy! Look!" I said, running up to my mother, holding my report card in the air like a shiny new toy - all A's.

"Nice job, Fio. I'm so proud of you. You're doing great. Keep it up." My mom said softly, pulling me into a warm hug. Somehow, that was all I needed - that's all I wanted. It really is a shame that that memory is fake.

-

I have plenty of other fake memories that I store in my head, letting the (also fake) backstories take over my mind when I go to sleep. For one of them, I was romping around on an old swing set, one that made little squeaky noises whenever I swung too high.

Somehow, I lose control of the swing, and my mom comes rushing up to me, worried and begging for me to tell her how she could help. I don't know when or how she got there (my dad was usually the one to take me to the park), but what I do know is she's exactly who I needed there at that moment.

So many real memories I have of me needing my mother most, waiting for the day she would actually turn up in one of them. She was always the first to pick me up in school lines. She was always at my open houses. She attended every grade promotion I had. But she was never there. It was all a facade. She'd said so herself that she craved being the all-star mom, the one who'd win several gold medals if there were award ceremonies for that sort of thing.

Her perfectionism is what makes her corrupt. She has spent my entire life telling me what to do, how to do it, scolding me for not doing it the way she imagined me doing it in her head.

She refused to seek help when that's all I wanted her to do.

-

"What do you want for your birthday, hija?" My dad asked, glancing at me while keeping his eyes fixed on the road, humming along to a Christmas carol playing on the radio.

"Honestly, dad?" I asked, only twelve years old, my green eyes twinkling in hope.

"Whatever your heart desires." My dad said in a goofy voice, making me smile.

"I want Mom to get help." I said sadly, hoping my dad would agree and push the idea upon my mom.

-

My mother went to therapy for four months. My dad had to pay her every session for her to go. In my mom's life, money has never been an obstacle. Her father was a middle-high class socialite in Venezuela who worked in engineering and oil companies. Her mother, who passed away of Leukemia when she was twelve, spoiled her rotten until her very last breath.

Eventually, I became mentally sick to the core. Writing and singing, my two favorite things in the world, became hobbies, and life had lost its zesty twang. Little things like music and the people I passed on the street that waved "hello" at me became nuisances. My mom "gave up" her therapy so I could get help.

I still wonder if she did it for herself or for me.

-

A few times a year, I get asked what my biggest fear is. Sometimes it comes up in conversation. Other times I create the question, not thinking about the consequences if people answer with "Spiders, yours?"

Each time I get asked, I take a deep breath and lie. "The dark." I say now, the idea of death by sea sounding more of tranquility than a travesty.

I look back at the old pictures I have of myself, a smiley and shy little girl who was afraid of nothing and everything at the same time. To her, I ask, "When you have nothing to lose, why be afraid?"

Me, with my baby doll at age three. I loved taking care of her. I used to take her everywhere with me.

[1oserjk]

— full stop | still good without luck

when life was becoming a bit steadier

+ here is a clearer puzzle piece of oc n jk’s backstory :D

word count: 2.4k

x full stop masterlist | x masterlist

Three years after he finally landed a solid grip on the shop and enough money came in to pay back the bills including the newly bought house and his studio, is when he came barreling in your shared bedroom door with a complicated-looking bouquet in his hand.

Your first instinctive reaction was to recoil and question the cheesy gesture.

“Oh god. What’s this?” You stupidly pointed—poked towards the obvious. They were very living, giving them a long appreciative look knowing in a matter of days they would wither and fall off if you didn’t snip the stems and soak them in water soon enough. 

“Flowers, obviously. For you.”

You reluctantly took them into your arms, listening intently to the way the thin plastic rubbed against your bare skin.

You wondered if he would be okay with you picking off the petals of some of the white flowers to set out in the sun for a day, before soaking them in oil to preserve the fragrance.

Stupid crafts like that always made you happy. He knew that.

“It’s a pretty pairing,” you honestly said, staring at the stark contrast between the white and the slightly familiar dirty orange. You think you’ve seen it in one of the pages of your A-Z Of Perennials book your mother gifted you last summer.

“They’re your favorite,” he explained as if it was a fact you never knew about yourself.

You nodded. “They are.”

He took a slight breath in before fully releasing to say, “And this lily is my birth flower.” He put his hands in the pockets of his slacks to stop himself from anxiously fidgeting. You thought it was cute. “I’m personally fond of the meaning of them.”

You smiled. “And what exactly could that meaning be?”

“Please—“ his eyes set out for yours when he finished, “—love me.”

The message you received through each petal achingly clear: that Jeon Jungkook was a man made solely for you and nobody else. Somebody so incredibly needy in only the best ways possible, eager to hand you the world — that was your husband and the father of your child.

“Corny, huh,” he attempted to brush off, but you saw right through his prideful facade, the tint to his cheeks lacking in help for the man standing right in front of you.

Jungkook was always the type to go soft at the romanticization of things, as if you were watching a Studio Ghibli film right at the center of his dark-colored orbs, the projection of the simplicity of all things beautiful. It was a solid contrast to your realist characteristic you held, but being with Jungkook all those years only made it easier to fall back and dream for a bit with him.

You carefully set the flowers down on the dresser beside you to wrap your arms around him, his eyes being the easiest thing to fully immerse yourself into.

“Not at all,” you said, shaking your head, “I think they fit you well.”

He hummed, hands easily finding the curve of your hips and landing them firmly atop the thin layer of your dress. He was automatically up to no good when his lips had quirked to one side and his eyes flashed a gleam for a millisecond. “Being pretty?”

You hit at his arm, leaning your head closer to his until your noses met and intuitively slotted at just the right angle. “No,” you lead, lips brushing at the single syllable, “being needy.”

He scrunched his and pulled away from your lips as a form of punishment. Eyes set on the prize, so driven for the one thing you find yourself craving the past week, standing on the tips of your toes and eagerly reaching for a kiss.

He scoffed quietly, putting up a false front. He gave it to you easily and without even a fight, “I’m the needy one? Look who’s kissing me.”

“Please,” you reasoned and puckered up for another, “This is me showing my appreciation and affection for the flowers. Really, thank you.”

He dug his face into your neck and traced the bare skin of your back with the tip of each of his slender fingers. He said something quietly about liking that particular dress on you, his fingers playing along with the open slit to emphasize his appreciation. You shivered slightly from the contact and leaned most of your weight against him to compensate for your legs suddenly weakening.

“I’m glad you liked them,” he murmured into your skin, leaving goosebumps against the rest. “I thought it would be a nice addition to our date night.”

“Speaking of,” you began to mutter at the reminder, “It’s been so long since we’ve had a decent amount of time alone. I was surprised you were free this weekend.”

“Sorry,” he sheepishly said, “As much as I trust those two back at the shop — I don’t. But, they told me I at least needed a small break and that they would take care of interviewing for our receptionist position over the weekend.”

Your head tilted curiously to ponder, “You’re still looking for someone?”

He solemnly nodded.

“Then I might just quit and apply at yours,” you teasingly smirked, “Sounds kind of fun.”

He groans. “As much as that would go appreciated..” His hands suddenly drift down to roam your ass and hips, giving it a solid pinch to make you yelp out loud. The corner of his lips quirked. “I don’t think your mother will appreciate you wasting a degree like that. And to be honest? I don’t think I’d get much work done if you were working under me either.”

“Why not?” You didn’t exactly have the opportunity to be as creative as he was, to interact with new people, and share art the way he did. You were organized and clean though. “I’ve had to take a leave at work to focus on Yeona while you were kept busy with the shop, I want to get back to working again. Want to spend more time with you..”

He landed a solid kiss on the edge of your temple and sighed. “Baby, I promise that once business gains momentum without me having to be there, I’ll take some more time off. I feel better that you’re with our daughter for now.”

Your mouth formed to a downturn. “What about you? Jungkook, she needs her own father.”

There’s a moment of silence between the both of you, a thousand of unspoken words floated in between. Yours surrounded him with question marks.

“Do you really want to start that tonight?” He asked, tiredness stirring in his eyes.

You blinked in slight pain before erasing it completely away from his view to read it as anything more and mustered a weak smile. Your hands fidgetted but stick to simply smoothing out the lines of his dress coat.

The bite on your tongue is harsh and punishing.

“Okay,” you answered, a mustered smile easily stretched out, “Fine.”

You wondered how much longer you both would suppress the looming subject until the next argument would find its way back into conversation again.

You stepped out of his hold and observed him from a distance. His expression is given with the way he held back the same as you.

You didn’t push it for the sake of that night.

With your back turned, you grabbed for your purse and handed him a smile before offering your hand. “Let’s go before it gets too late.”

You’ve encased his hand into your hold at the beginning of the drive, probably slightly dangerous to do but a foolish and selfish habit you had when it came to him. He doesn’t mind when they folded in between the warmth of your thighs, anyway. His driving skills were well off enough to stay stable and to occasionally run his thumb against your skin whenever he pleased.

Just feeling the span of where your short dress had risen had him stirring in his pants and already questioning, “When was the last time we had sex?”

You didn’t flinch at the abrupt question, humming to think. “Maybe about—a week ago?”

His eyes widened. “Fuck, really?”

You nodded. “Your perception of time has always been fucked..” Sitting up, you pinned him a stare, “Come on, you really don’t remember?”

Mindless sex was one of the many ways he would vow out his apology after all. He spelled out his sorry by drawing out an orgasm after orgasm. 

“No, no, I do,” he answered, “I just—didn’t expect it to be that long ago.”

Your mind begged to comment out that it was his fault for always being so damn busy.

“Okay,” he said, arm extended out, having it be enough of your fidgeting and sudden silence, “Come here and hold my hand again.”

It’s his cluelessness to note the way you felt that frustrated you the most — maybe it was just your fault for not properly voicing it out.

“Let’s not think about the last time and look forward to tonight, yeah?” You bit at a remark, reluctantly obliging, only quickly regretting it when his long fingers flexed, unattainable to let go of the raw thoughts that clumped into your head right after. Cheeky bastard. You gripped them tightly to make him hiss out, rubbing the stupid initials of yours on the back of his hand a second later.

He went on with the conversation about some big time client who was willing to spend a fuck ton of money for him to ink his whole entire back. You weren’t too surprised to hear him say that he was informed it would be free game, a general idea and vibe but overall letting Jungkook’s creativity roam free. There was a fond smile stretched upon your lips when he got giddy over it, sprouting out all of the sketch ideas he planned for his work to splay out on the man’s bare skin, eyes twinkling like a fucking kid and it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.

The car turned to an unfamiliar road and it’s only then your eyebrows furrowed. Your mind perked at the fact you’ve been clueless for that long, not even recognizing the route to your unannounced destination. “I don’t even know where we’re going.”

He turned the wheel again. “Somewhere nicer.” That was the theme for that night, nicer—better—greater than usual.

You eagerly started to look around, like the GPS in front of you didn’t indicate you would be there in the next ten minutes. “Where? What’s the name of the place?” 

He chuckled. “Sit back and wait for it, alright? I promise you’ll like it.”

Of course, you took his word for it.

The tower sat at a painstakingly high height.

“Jungkook,” you deadpanned, “What are we doing here?”

He smiled widely. “Do you remember this place?”

The breeze blew through you and you could only hug yourself tighter with a meager nod. “You took me here for my birthday that one year?”

He nodded, hands in his pockets. “And I only had enough money to pay for the admission fee and nothing else. Not even enough to get a decent souvenir from the gift shop.”

“Hey, no,” you denied with a pout, clearly offended, “You got me a small magnet that’s still hanging on top of our fridge. It’s cute and I love it.”

His tongue ticked against the roof of his mouth and he reluctantly agreed. “Alright, fine. But—”

You gaped at the tower, mindlessly sputtering when you realize, “Is this where we’re having dinner?”

Finally, he confirmed with a solid nod and a sheepish smile. “We have a reservation.”

Blinking, you repeated, “Reservation? Why would we even need one—”

His arm suddenly swooped down and curled your body next to his as soon as you began walking up the intimidating structure. “Because I have the money to do so now, can’t you see? I can finally spoil the fuck out of my wife the way I’ve been wanting to this whole time.” Nicer—better—greater than usual

“Gguk—”

“I know that it might be a few years too late to make up for it, but I want you to realize how much I love you,” he said sincerely. “That I’m doing all of this for reason.”

You tugged his hand and called for him again.

Ignoring your pleas, he continued, “I’m shitty for not doing this sooner, and I know some nights get lonely without me, but I want to pay you back with everything I can possibly afford — I’m working hard. For you. For Yeona. Only for the both of you.”

Impulsively, your heel stomped against the pavement until his attention finally shifted towards you. The action immediately turned regrettable when the impact vibrated and bounced off of your ankle. You winced.

“Jungkook,” you pathetically mumbled, reaching out towards him.

Mid-talk, and it was your eyes that glossed over to throw him off, putting him on high alert. He had no choice but to stare down nervously at you with a bitten lip. 

You exhaled slowly and eventually circled your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You were still just outside of the front doors to climb in a beautifully long elevator ride, the gift shop beside the admission booths light blinking brightly to let visitors know it was wide open for them to waste money on overpriced, useless trinkets and tiny magnets.

Your fingers softly pulled at the hairs of his nape, urging him to give you a kiss right then and there. “I appreciate and love everything you’ve bought and done for me tonight.” Just for even allowing some time for the both of you that weekend — it was way more than enough. Your fingers softly ran over the edge of his jaw and went a bit further up to cup his cheek. His hands slid up to your wrist in return and squeezed, angling his head to put a few kisses on the center of your palm. “But you know I love you regardless, right? I don’t need you to pay back my love I’ll always have for you. Always, Gguk. We maintained a shitty apartment together for so many years, still got married when the circumstances weren’t always the nicest, and continue to raise a beautiful little girl together. Nothing changes when I’m with you.”

He eagerly bent down to encase your lips with his own. “I love you,” he said with utter sincerity, his silent ode to you he would carry along for the rest of his life hung somewhere within the tone of it. Always.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

In Over His Headboard

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: E Word Count: 7560

This is a submission for the first day of Thotumn, organized by @spideysmjs!!! Today’s prompt: Dirty Talk.

Summary: MJ learns that Ned's best friend went through a lot of backpacks as a teenager. And a lot of headboards as an adult.

MJ is very observant.

But that’s old news.

The other O-word she lives her life by is ‘organized’. In kindergarten, she rearranged everyone’s cubby during naptime (without permission) to suit her precepts. As an adult, she keeps her books sorted by topic and, within that, by size. The handles of her measuring cups are perfectly aligned. The apartment that houses both the books and the measuring cups is tidy, full of furniture with secret built-in storage spaces, and fewer than five miles from the house in which she grew up. MJ has organized and reorganized her own space so many times that, even though her few good friends think it’s crazy, it explains why one of her passions is helping people move.

Packing boxes is a delight. Laying down rugs so that their straight edges are perfectly parallel to the walls thrills her. Helping someone determine exactly the correct lineup of toiletries in the cabinet under their bathroom sink is a religious experience. She doesn’t express her joy in smiles or shrieks of excitement, but in her diligence. She’ll be tucked quietly in the closet, ordering jeans by shade of blue, while the rest of the volunteer movers crack open a beer in the kitchen, calling it time for a well-earned break.

Lately, everyone in MJ’s life has gotten disappointingly settled: her brother and his wife upsizing in suburbia for the baby on the way, her parents (who are finally coming down hard on not letting her shift their knickknacks around anymore), and Betty. Betty’s engaged—so engaged—and simply made space for her fiancé to move in with her, so MJ didn’t get to assemble a single cardboard box. She still feels slightly betrayed.

When Betty calls and starts in about schedules and plans and photographer, MJ assumes they’re about to go over more wedding details. But no, her friend informs her, the schedule involves the timed renting of a moving truck and the access date for a storage unit, the plans are who’s lending a hand and with what, and the photographer is Ned’s friend and future best man, some guy named Peter. MJ forgets the name (and asks Betty for it again later—day-of, as they’re driving to the guy’s apartment building). It’s a dull speck on the metaphorical diamond Betty has just held up to the light for her to inspect—whatshisname needs people to help him move.

Before the pleasure of putting someone’s possessions in just the right spot can commence, there’s the grunt work. MJ understands and accepts this as a necessary evil. On the day of Ned’s friend’s move-in, she dresses in overalls—multiple pockets for micro-organization on the fly—with a cropped t-shirt underneath because there will, inevitably, be stairs and it’s July. She’s trying not to begin sweating too far in advance, limiting her anticipation to a foot jumping on the immaculate rubber foot mat of the passenger seat of Betty’s car and a series of probing questions.

“Doesn’t this guy have any friends?”

“He has friends,” Betty assures her, being a responsible driver and keeping her eyes on the road, “just not a lot of super close friends.”

“And the close friends he does have weren’t available?”

“Umm…” She concentrates on watching the pedestrian countdown light as they cross an intersection. “I think a bunch of them went with him to the storage unit to load up the truck. I guess they don’t have the whole day off.”

“Oh, unlike me, who has nothing better to do.”

“Don’t get snippy. And don’t pretend you wouldn’t have begged to help if you’d heard me mention what I was doing today.”

MJ plays with the seatbelt strapped across her chest, feeling defensive. It’s her go-to reaction whenever Betty reveals how clearly she sees her.

“I was just trying to figure out why I was asked.”

“Ned’s his friend, I’m Ned’s fiancée, and you’re my friend.”

“The six degrees of Michelle Jones,” she mumbles.

“What?”

“Nothing. He lives in Queens?”

“Yeah, Peter’s local. He and Ned went to school together. Crazy, huh?”

“Crazy that you can travel the world and end up with a fiancé and a circle of friends from your hometown,” MJ agrees. Today, Betty’s in jean shorts and a beachy shirt that ties in a knot at the end of its row of iridescent buttons, but MJ mostly sees her on the news, looking as prim and expensive as a collectible doll. She’s a foreign correspondent for CNN, though she’s reining in the foreign part now that she’s living with Ned and about to get married.

“Crazy,” Betty repeats distractedly, making a perfect, tight turn into the belowground carpark next to the building bearing the address MJ wrote down two weeks ago. This is where the magic will happen.

The pile out and her friend beeps her fob to lock the car. She wants to take the elevator that’ll bring them up to the lobby, but MJ insists on trekking back up the ramp they drove down. It stretches her legs, a good warm up. As they emerge from the darkness of the lot and sun slices across their faces, she feels like she’s walking into Disney World. They stand on the sidewalk and right as she’s about to ask Betty when they guys are supposed to make an appearance, a U-Haul pulls up to the curb.

She sees the driver’s side door open and slam shut without seeing the driver, but Ned comes bounding down from the passenger’s side to hold his fiancée’s hands and give her a quick kiss on the forehead (they’re so engaged), then three more guys fold themselves out of the tight back of the cab and hustle around to the rear of the truck. The couple’s display of affection distracted MJ; she can only assume it’s the driver out of sight in the back, passing belongings down to his helpers, who swiftly stack them on the sidewalk near the front doors of the apartment building. There’s an array of boxes, then staggering steps as the guys navigate couches and mattresses out of the truck, racing against the inflexibility of the No Parking and No Idling signs on this street. If a bylaw stooge comes along, they’re screwed. New York’s street signs exist for the city to make money, not for the ease of citizens needing to unload their furniture.

The guy’s—Peter’s—friends are surprisingly quick, so MJ lets the speech she was mentally writing to argue in favour of his right to park the truck in front of the building he’s moving into dissolve in her head. Peter hops down from the back of the truck. From where she and Betty are standing, she can only see his legs and hear the clang of the rear door closing. The trio of extra helpers clamber back into the U-Haul with the intent and discipline of clowns into a clown car and wheel off to return the truck. MJ finally sees the man she’s come to help as he brushes his hands together and steps quickly onto the curb to avoid another car angling into the carpark. He shakes hair off his forehead and squints towards them, sun in his eyes, already smiling.

“Um, hello,” MJ hisses at Betty, quickly turning to her. “Were you going to mention that your fiancé is best friends with Spider-Man? That’s Peter fucking Parker.”

“And I’m Betty fucking Brant,” she counters breezily. She’s looking past MJ, waving at Peter. “I’m on the news more than he is and you don’t freak out when you see me.”

“I’m not freaking out.”

“Hey!”

MJ spins to look into the eyes of a municipal—no, a national—no, an international hero. She doesn’t say anything fast enough, so he moves past her to hug Betty before coming back to her with eyebrows raised in what looks like a mixture of inquiry, politeness, and gratitude.

“Michelle?”

“But my friends call me—”

“MJ,” he finishes for her, and normally that would be irritating, but Peter Parker is endearingly boyish close-up. He’s shorter than she is. He’s freckled. He does look like somebody she could’ve gone to school with and had a low-key crush on for years and years. The fame can’t touch that, which is why, she figures, his hero-next-door schtick works so well for him. He’s local, like Betty said. Every bit of him sells that and it’s obvious that he’s not trying.

“And yours call you Spider-Man?”

Might as well get that out in the open—that she recognizes him. He laughs easily and glances down.

“Nah, pretty much just ‘Peter’. ‘Petey’ if they either really want to make me suffer or they really like me.”

He gives her a look and it’s brief, but there’s a lot to it. The propositioning tilt of the head, the wolfish curl of the smile, the assessing cut of his eyes to catch her from the corner of his vision. MJ gets a strong sense that ‘really like me’ is a euphemism for ‘enjoy me sexually.’

“We’ll see how I feel once we’ve moved all your shit upstairs, I guess,” she responds flatly.

“That sounds fair.” His voice is bright now, no lurking depravity. “I hope I don’t have enough boxes to make you hate me.”

“Please. Boxes are nothing. I’d be more worried about that dresser turning me against you. What is that thing made of?”

“Solid oak,” he brags, then grimaces. “It sucked just lifting it onto the truck.”

“Can’t you just…” MJ mimes the motion Spider-Man does when he shoots that gunk at people and buildings.

“Lift the furniture up to my building with web fluid?” Peter crosses his arms and looks like he’s really calculating it in his head. “Wouldn’t be graceful. I’d probably smash some windows if I tried to do it from outside, and doing it from inside wouldn’t be that much easier than just carrying it up the stairs. Also, that’d attract a lot of attention and everything I do doesn’t need to make the news, you know?”

“Oh yeah,” she agrees dryly. “I hate it when I’m just grocery shopping and there’s a whole camera crew right in my face.”

He laughs at her sarcasm. Appealing.

“Right?”

And then they have to scurry to catch up because Ned and Betty have already started moving everything into the lobby.

After it’s all inside and not available to be swiped by anyone walking or driving down the street, they decide to take turns carrying stuff up to the fourth floor. (Fourth? MJ could swear she was told second.) One person stays with the remainder of Peter’s stuff while the other three lug boxes and chairs and, eventually, the dreaded oak dresser. She’s too focused on maintaining a brisk pace to really check out his apartment—beyond noting the large windows and protruding edge of the kitchen countertop (that catches her in the stomach while she’s squeezing around a box Ned left too close to the front door). It wouldn’t matter. Layout and organization haven’t been much on her mind since Peter Parker stepped out from behind that truck.

This process isn’t supposed to be a spectacle, but people notice Peter, and Peter, ever the neighbourhood Spider-Man, notices people.

A man exiting through the lobby nods towards Peter’s desk and starts a conversation about materials and quality. MJ almost trips up the stairs with a box in her arms as she hears him say, “Yeah, I’ve got more wood than I know what to do with.” Betty, on her way down, catches her eye and gives her a funny look.

“You’re sweating.”

“It’s hot,” she fires back.

Ned’s above, guiding one end of the couch, and Peter and MJ are heaving the other (mostly Peter) when a different dude narrowly gets past them on a landing, only to turn around and remark on the wonder of them being able to maneuver it. “It’s long,” Peter agrees, “but I’ve fit this thing into some pretty tight places.” Right after, he asks MJ if she needs a break. She’s fine. She only almost dropped her corner of the couch because her hand cramped.

As she’s taking a final box through the door of his apartment, she overhears, “I’ll let him choose the position. What do I know? I’m happy to put it anywhere. The only thing I can be trusted to be in charge of is making sure it’s well-hung.” Stumbling forward, she sees that Peter (who just spoke) and Betty are admiring a large, framed print of him and Ned in cap and gown, clutching diplomas. MJ grabs a bottle of water from the case they carried up here at the beginning—it’s lukewarm, but practically glacial compared to the temperature of her face right now—and asks her friend if she wants to step outside to get a little air before they continue.

Leaning against the wall of the building, MJ chugs some of her water, then hands it off to Betty. While her friend’s drinking, she says, “So, he’s gay, right?”

Betty catches the water that slops down onto her chin.

“What?”

“Peter. He’s gay.”

“I’ve seen him with guys when we’ve all gone to the bar together—”

MJ breathes deeply in relief. She needs him to be gay; the knowledge will quell how she feels when he utters these outrageous, completely explainable sentences, or when he walks ahead of her up the stairs and she’s forced to stare at his ass for four floors, or when she remembers that look he gave her before they started moving everything.

“—but Ned mentioned a serious girlfriend Peter had in high school, so I think he’s bi. Oh my god,” Betty adds in a tone of realization that scares the hell out of MJ. “You want him.”

It takes rapid backtracking and a convincing presentation of the facts (those being every suggestive thing Peter’s said today and leaving out the part about his ass) to wipe the excited look off her friend’s face.

“So, you’ve just been misunderstanding him. And eavesdropping.”

“Can we call it eavesdropping if he has nothing to hide?”

“Fine,” Betty says, rolling her eyes. “It’s not eavesdropping because he has nothing to hide. I’ve known him almost as long as I’ve known Ned and, yeah, he might have an entire second identity, but the guy’s an open book. Peter couldn’t be sly if his life depended on it. He’s a goof, MJ. He’d never say that kind of stuff for real.”

Except that they hike back up to the apartment together and Peter’s voice drifts into the kitchen from one of the rooms down the hall, making the women halt and lock eyes.

“Remember how many backpacks May bought you in high school?” Ned chuckles. “This reminds me of that.”

“I do go through a lot of headboards. I’m not trying to break them, but I always put my legs into it too much and I just go so deep.”

“The room,” Betty babbles next to her, gripping her wrist. “I’m sure he’s talking about the depth of the room, coming in through the window too quickly from patrol.”

“It’s easy for you to tell yourself that,” MJ points out. “You’re engaged. You have no reason to think about Peter like that.”

Ned emerges and heads straight for Betty. These two are so gross together that neither of them protests against being hugged, though they’re sweaty from labour. With his arm around her friend’s waist, Ned turns to address MJ.

“Are you hanging around for a while?”

“Yeah, definitely. I can help unpack,” she pledges.

“Great. I know Peter’d like to get curtains put up for privacy today too, because, you know, being Spider-Man and having all these windows don’t really go well together, and you’re the tallest. He’ll probably want your help.”

She’d rather be assigned the task of choosing which kitchen cupboard will hold his plates, his glasses, the cans of premade soup she imagines Spider-Man relies on when he’s always darting around at night, too busy to devote a lot of time to making dinner. But she’s here to help. It’s not her apartment; she’ll go where she can be useful (any maybe do some sneaky rearranging later if he makes dumb organizational choices).

“Babe,” Ned says to Betty, “I’m going on a beer run—and maybe tacos, do you feel like tacos?—do you wanna come with me?”

“Of course, babe, but I don’t want…”

She looks at MJ, who’s trying to be inconspicuous, sorting the boxes labelled ‘KITCHEN’ from those labelled ‘LIVING ROOM’.

“One sec,” Betty tells her fiancé, walking over to MJ. “Will you be alright here if we go out for food?”

“Mhmm.”

Without glancing over, she plucks the X-Acto knife from her overall pocket and slices through packing tape to reveal nested pans, cloaked in mismatched dishtowels to prevent scraping during transport. The combination of careful and slapdash makes her smile to herself.

“It’s rush hour now, so I’m not sure how long we’ll be,” Betty warns.

“That’s fine.”

“I think we all need a little fuel before we settle in to unpack.”

“Yeah.”

“MJ,” her friend says sharply.

“What?”

“Are you ok being alone with Peter for a while?”

“Yes,” MJ says, rolling her eyes. “He’s Ned’s best friend and he’s Spider-Man, not some random creep. I’m not afraid he’s going to jump me. Anyway, I have this.” She waggles the knife.

“I’m more worried about you jumping him.”

She narrows her eyes at Betty.

“Have a little respect for my self-control.”

Her friend just shrugs.

“I’d understand. There’s the allure of him being a superhero and, more importantly, the fact that Ned and I can both vouch for him being a genuinely great guy.”

MJ narrows her eyes even more, this time in suspicion.

“Is this a moving day or a blind date?”

“Oh please.”

“That’s not an answer. Betty,” she presses, but her friend turns and grabs Ned’s hand. The wave as they leave the apartment is mockingly innocent.

Alone, MJ darts a glance down the hall, where she knows Peter is still doing whatever in the bedroom. She’s not going to race in there like some glassy-eyed fangirl. Even if Betty does endorse him so warmly, and he does seem so down-to-earth, and his ass does look like that in his jeans. She lifts his cookware out, one piece at a time, then moves on to the tangled jumble of utensils in the next box, trying to separate a pair of tongs from a warped spatula. She doesn’t hear Peter walk into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he says suddenly from behind her.

MJ jumps and holds up the tongs threateningly, but her hand falls as she stares at him. He’s wiping sweat from his neck with the hem of his navy t-shirt. There are his abs and the taut skin below his navel.

“If you have a minute, could you give me a hand with this rod? I can’t get it up on my own.”

Her gaze springs up to his face and she stares at him.

“Huh?”

“The… curtain rod?” Peter says. “I can stand on a chair to do the one end, but I can’t do both ends at once. Do you think you could—”

“Yeah, sure.”

His smile is pleasant and relieved and MJ follows him into the bedroom like he hit her with some sort of magic spell, not just artless, unintentional dirty talk. She sets the tongs down on the floor by the wall; whoops.

“Warm in here,” she notes as she sidesteps a clear plastic tote of Peter’s clothes.

“Yeah, I was gonna open the window, but I didn’t know if the humidity would only make it worse.”

MJ watches as he gestures with one hand and props the other on his hip, hiking up his t-shirt to hook his thumb in the waist of his jeans. She encourages him to go ahead and risk it. The space is unbearable without at least the illusion of fresh air. She redoes her drooping ponytail, feeling new sweat slide down the nape of her neck as Peter crouches and jerks the window up from its sticky sill. Her gaze, and possibly her mind, gets lost somewhere in the breadth of his shoulders. His triceps look as hard and as perfectly rounded as the rolling pin that was still in the box when she left the kitchen. Emptying her chest pocket of odds and ends—knife, scissors, permanent marker, Allen key—MJ unbuckles her overalls, letting the straps and the bib hang down. The buttons on the hips keep the pants part up, but she can’t stand to have the whole thing closing her in any longer. She can’t breathe.

They each take an end of the curtain rod and Peter uses his knees to climb onto his nightstand, already positioned against the wall. It’s overkill because he’s not that much shorter and MJ can hook her end into the bracket without even having to get up on her toes. She’s done first and turns to look at Peter, kneeling on the nightstand with his thighs apart. She pictures joining him on that narrow surface, straddling his lap. God. How long have Betty and Ned been gone?

Then again, why fight it?

“Having some trouble getting it in?” she asks.

The rod clunks against the wall as Peter whips his head around to look slightly down at her.

“Your rod,” MJ clarifies. “You want me to take over? I can handle it.” At his continued dumbstruck silence, she goes on. “Or I can just direct you from here. You could try working it back and forth a little until you get the perfect angle. Then I’m sure it’ll ease right in.”

He hardly seems aware when the curtain rod falls into place. After a few extra moments of immobility, he dismounts and swishes the semi-sheer curtain across the window. She can feel his eyes on her, tracing the strip of stomach between the bottom of her crop-top and the folded-over denim of her overalls.

“What’s next?” she asks. “Maybe go into the bathroom and investigate the plumbing? Or, you know what, I didn’t finish unpacking your utensils. Would you rather go back to the kitchen and get your hands on my box?”

“What are you doing?”

It sounds like his chest is tight, like he’s forcing the words out. MJ smiles gently at the real-life superhero into whose apartment she has miraculously been deposited for today and perhaps only today.

“Helping.”

“Did you have to call it handling my rod?”

“Did you have to tell me you couldn’t get it up without me?” she challenges.

Peter’s mouth falls open and he makes a choked sound of protest, but she raises her eyebrows at him, daring him to argue.

“You asked me for a hand with your rod,” MJ presses. “That was you. You started it. And it wasn’t even then, it was hours ago. What is there in this apartment that you haven’t made some sort of phallic reference to?!”

“I… did I? I’ve been doing that?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Spidey. Own it or don’t, but don’t pretend you haven’t heard some of the shit you’ve said today.”

“Are you offended?” he asks, avoiding her eyes, but not her body; he takes his time staring at that.

“I might be if you don’t do anything about it,” she huffs. “I’d hate to think that Spider-Man’s all words and no action.”

“I’m off-duty.” A sly smile.

“We can just talk,” MJ says casually, thinking that she’ll possibly die of heat exhaustion and unresolved sexual tension if they stand around chatting. “Why don’t you tell me how Spider-Man’s managed to crack so many headboards?”

He shoots her the same kind of look he gave her on the sidewalk.

“It wasn’t always Spider-Man.”

She smirks and gives him a look of her own.

“Then why don’t you show me?”

It’s the honesty in his expression that she appreciates as Peter surges towards her, grabbing her face between both hands and kissing her urgently. She grips his waist and scrunches his t-shirt in her hands. At the first little pause they take to snatch a breath, she peels the shirt up and he yanks it off the rest of the way.

“Nice,” she breathes, stroking his torso with her gaze before adding her hands.

He gives her a jerky nod of acknowledgement and goes for her shirt. Tugging it off screws up her ponytail again, but she doesn’t have time to care; Peter’s kissing her, wet and demanding, while he reaches around and fumbles to unhook her bra. When he nudges his hips against her, she feels him. He’s been making sideways insinuations about his dick all day (whether he admits it to her or not), and here’s the real deal at last. MJ presses her tongue slickly into his mouth, eyelashes fluttering at the urge to open her eyes and see what kind of face he’s making to accompany the groan he lets out as she deepens the kiss. As he draws the straps of her unfastened bra down her arms, she regretfully takes her hands off his chest, swiftly unbuttoning her overalls. Left side buttons, then right. Peter hampers her by grabbing her ass and rolling his hips forward as she’s trying to get her pants down. She doesn’t discourage him. It’s thrilling that he’s handsy.

The room’s a mess—not dirty, thankfully, and she assumes he must’ve come on another day to vacuum and clean, but with a short, uneven stack of boxes in one corner, the container of clothing, the box spring and mattress leaning together against the wall, and the headboard, poking out of the closet because he hasn’t put his bedframe together yet. MJ hates disorganization, especially when it fucks with the logistics of what has all the promising tempo and quick chemistry of a fantastic hookup.

“We could just…” He huffs, lifting his mouth off her neck where he’s started licking and sucking. “…tip the mattress onto the floor?”

She’s taken aback by the idea of fucking Spider-Man on a mattress in the middle of his mess of a bedroom. With the curtain as the only thing to show they made any progress in this room before giving in to their libidos. But she’s in her underwear, overalls ringing her ankles, and the man beneath the famous mask looks hot as hell when he’s been kissed hard and riled into an expectant erection. How else are they going to pass the time before their friends return? Fanning out magazines on his coffee table?

“Let’s do that,” she agrees.

They work as a team to control its fall. The room’s carpeted, so the mattress doesn’t make much of a sound beyond a soft thump when it hits the floor. MJ frowns at it thoughtfully. “You don’t have sheets.”

“Fuck sheets,” Peter says, half declaration, half laugh, and walks across the mattress to get to her.

She smiles against his mouth because it’s funny that he’s momentarily taller, standing on the mattress while her feet are still on the floor. Good thing he’s already taken his shoes off. MJ pulls away and drops to unlace her own sneakers, very, very aware of the rasp of Peter unzipping his jeans right above her head. She steps out of her shoes and overalls, then frees her hair of the elastic, flinging it spontaneously across the room, tousling her hair in her hands to fight the tingling of her scalp as she straightens up.

Oh. He’s already stripped his boxers off.

If her mouth actually does fall open as dramatically as it feels like it just has, it’s fine. MJ forgives herself. You’re supposed to be embarrassed after meeting a celebrity, wincing over every rambling sentence you blurted at them and every awkward twitch in your high-strung body language. Only you will ever recall your spastic behaviour. The celebrity forgot you the moment you exited their line of sight. Wait, will Peter mark her down as a horny fan and forget her? She hasn’t known him long enough to separate the man from the heroic icon, but she hopes neither side of his identity involves treating a partner like that. But no. Doesn’t matter. She can overanalyze later. Peter takes her hands and guides her onto the mattress where they make out standing up for a few minutes—him hot and rigid against her stomach, her not quite naked—before things get so heated that they collapse with roaming hands (Peter) and trembling knees (MJ).

For such a wholesome figure, Spider-Man curses wildly as he slides her underwear off, nose skimming down her skin from between her breasts to below her bellybutton while he works.

“You… you look…” he pants, propping himself up on his hands just to admire her. She has to confess, to herself alone, that it’s flattering, that it’s already making her want more of this: reckless afternoon sex in her friend’s fiancé’s best man’s new apartment. “God, I’m so glad you—”

“Called your bluff?” she suggests wryly.

“And everything before that. I’m so glad you were standing on the sidewalk when I got out of that truck.”

Well. That’s a little earnest. Then again, the man is hovering over her in the nude, so they’re in the heat-of-the-moment realm, during which time, comments of disconcerting earnestness do not count, or can be retracted later with no fault to either party.

To counteract it, MJ teases, “Are you saying you’re glad I came?”

“I’m glad you didn’t immediately leave when I said that thing about my wood,” he confides, kissing swiftly back up to her chest and using nothing but his tongue to toy with her breasts. She gasps at the sudden pull of his teeth, then laughs.

“So you were saying that shit on purpose.”

“Don’t be mad that I was too intimidated by your hotness to flirt with you to your face.”

His tone is playfully giddy and she likes this guy, she really does. She gets a good grip on his soft brown curls and tows him up for more kissing. Her knees bump his bare hips as she forms a cradle for him to drop into. Hint, hint.

Luckily, Spider-Man knows his cue.

He rocks between her legs and her chest rises and falls like breathing is a massive exertion. His angle is almost just right, so MJ shuffles and shifts and he’s endlessly patient as she rubs against him from below, testing. Well, not endlessly patient. The instant she moans in satisfaction, he’s got a hand wrapped desperately around her hip as he grinds down with tenacity. Right. This isn’t just any hookup, any guy. This is the guy who makes a career out of not backing down. Heat flows through her at the sudden thought of being handled with the intensity of one of Spider-Man’s mission.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she says as she feels the head of him slip lower, skipping across her entrance. “Condom.”

Intense, and kind of a lustful dumbass.

“Right,” he agrees, flushed when he raises his face from where he’s been breathing in the scent of her hair. “I have one, uh, in my wallet.”

And then he doesn’t break away from her for a good ten seconds, like he’s hoping she’ll let him slide in bare. Horny motherfucker. MJ wants to screw Spider-Man, not birth his crime-fighting offspring. She tucks her chin and gives him a look that promises, as much as it would pain her, this thing is shutting down here and now if he doesn’t wrap it up. With a resigned exhalation (and a little smile implying he knows what he was trying to get away with), Peter pushes off of her and goes to dig around in the pocket of his jeans. She rolls onto her stomach to study the ropy musculature of his thighs. When he extracts the condom with a triumphant burst of sound, she flips onto her back again and watches him trip over the jeans he just dropped. There’s a charming contrast between this unexpected klutziness and her assumption that he could pull anybody with a pulse using those trusting brown eyes and his Avengers status.

He crouches beside MJ and doesn’t take his eyes off her, flapping the condom between his fingers.

“Should I put this on or do you wanna put it on me?”

She presents her palm.

“Give me that. You can’t even be trusted to install a curtain rod.”

“Oh, I’m extremely ready to install a rod,” he says eagerly, watching her tear the condom open and reach for his waiting cock.

“You know, you’re a real dork for a guy with those commitments and that ass.”

“Thank you?”

Before his uncertainty can swell to self-congratulations, MJ rolls the condom roughly down his dick, making him heave and shake, hips bucking into her perfunctory hold. Smirking, she closes her fist and pumps him quickly, eyes on the blank bliss on his face, his slack jaw. After a brisk minute of this, he begs her to slow down, then, still kneeling at her side, cups between her legs and starts fondling her at an even more vigorous pace than she was using on him. Her breaths come in hiccups and she can’t point out how unfair this is. Just as she’s arching for more, thinking she’s about to come faster than she ever has in her life, Peter stops cold.

“Are you ready to—”

MJ glares and knocks him back onto his ass, then scrambles onto his lap, continuing to push him down until his shoulders touch the mattress. His expression is cheerily confused.

“I was this close,” she says, pinching her fingers together until they nearly touch. When her complaint brings an impish smile to Peter’s face, she pinches those fingers around his nipple, so he hisses and curls into himself. Shaking her head at him, she takes hold of his erection and eases down onto his lap. His ecstatic chant of, “Oh man, oh man, oh man,” is moderately distracting, but MJ persists. It’s just who she is: stoic.

“God,” he groans beneath her as she begins swaying forward and back, “this is almost as good as catching the midnight opening of a new Star Wars.”

She covers his mouth with her hand and he laughs behind it.

“I was just trying to lean into your perception of me. I’m kidding.”

“Are you though?”

But she frees him for the noises he makes. Some of these grunts and whimpers scale her spine like a ladder, raising goosebumps as they go, until the whole sensation comes shivering back down and she finds herself riding him harder.

“Firm mattress,” she huffs.

“’S new. The last one was awful on my back and—ughhhhhhhohfuuuck—with the hazards of my line of work, I figured I gotta start taking care of myself.”

“If you won’t, I will,” MJ mumbles, curving forward to lick his chest, charting it all under her tongue, as she continues to shove back against him.

“Fuck,” he says, short and sharp. He seizes her hips and rolls her beneath him. “You should know, you taking control is a big turn on for me.”

“Clearly.”

She’s not sure how much sarcasm comes across in her gasp because his manhandling has knocked the wind out of her. Actually, she’s happy to let him steer things; being on top was starting to remind her legs of every step she’s walked up and down in this apartment building today, carrying Peter’s shit. He kneads some of the tightness away when he grasps her thigh and digs in with a roll of his fingers. Her moan is as much in relief as arousal. Then he starts thrusting so fast and deep that he has to pull her back towards him every so often so she isn’t forced off the mattress. The hum leaving her mouth is somewhere between breathing and moaning, one note that drags on and on, jumping and breaking when he catches her mouth in sloppy, ravenous kisses.

He’s still doing his damnedest to make out with her when her lips part with a genuine shriek. The tickle of Peter’s tongue against the roof of her mouth somehow adds to the sensation, like a high vibration over the low thrum of him drilling in and out of her. MJ comes seconds into the beginning of her scream; Peter comes with a crack. The sheer force of her orgasm—Spider-Man is clearly not without finesse, he simply does not choose to employ it in favour of fucking like he’s a sportscar running a red on a highspeed chase—has her too stunned to figure out why the sound accompanying his was wrong.

“What was that?” she asks hazily as Peter slumps over her body, breathing hard and still gently thrusting. He’s sweaty, but so is she. With something like pride, she realizes he’ll have to go to sleep tonight with his mattress soaked in her scent.

“Leg slipped,” he says.

MJ does vaguely recall that. In the midst of her climax, he’d moved. It wasn’t enough to distract her, so she’d focused on the feeling, as well as the resolution to not let him get her that close to the edge a second time without going over it.

“And hit what?”

“Uhhh…”

He doesn’t appear to know either, with his bleary, punch-drunk expression that’s unfortunately pretty adorable. No, no, no. A hand with moving, a hasty fuck, and she’s out. The whole day’s been extremely worth her while. She tells herself she doesn’t need more.

But Peter rolls off and she misses his weight and warmth, his shape and soft eyes. He’s sitting on the edge of the mattress with his knees folded high when he goes, “Shit,” under his breath.

Because he also happens to be handling condom-removing at the time, MJ sits up fast, in a panic.

“Did it break?”

His posture inflates with a deep breath, then sags.

“Yeah. I don’t think there’s any way to salvage it.”

Salvage it? That’s a weird fucking thing to say in the situation, like it could possibly matter whether or not they were able to repair the condom after he’s already come inside her. Still, MJ’s skeptic nature makes her grab Peter’s shoulder and wrench it back, only to see the tied-off condom dangling between his fingers. It looks intact. She grips his chin and turns him to look at her.

“What do you mean it’s broken? It’s not in tatters. It’s not leaking.”

“What?” He squints at her, then follows her gaze to the condom. “Oh, not the condom. My headboard.”

Sure enough, she looks up and there’s his headboard, still protruding from the closet, but now in two pieces. The closest is on a slow, sad slide to the floor. He must’ve kicked it. MJ laughs breathlessly.

“Oh, thank god.” Abruptly, she’s pissed. “I thought you were talking about the condom! You don’t scare a woman like that!”

“You thought the condom broke?”

“You had it in your hands and said ‘shit’ in this horrible way and I thought…” She sighs.

“We could’ve made it work,” Peter argues, making her nostrils flare as she puts her underwear back on. “Our baby would be super cute.”

“Our baby?! We met hours ago.”

“I’ve developed stronger bonds in less time,” he says with a shrug, leisurely getting up and sliding his boxers up his legs. Nice ass. No. “You’d be surprised how soon after meeting me some of the villains in this city get themselves so worked up that they wanna kill me.”

She yanks her t-shirt over her head with silent ire. Then has to take it off again because she forgot to put her bra on first.

“Quit looking like that. Nothing happened to you.” Peter’s mouth turns down as he glances over to the wreckage of his headboard. “I have to replace that. Again.”

MJ’s seriously about to snap at this idiot for his insane priorities when he straights up stiffly as he’s stepping into the legs of his jeans.

“They’re back.”

“Who? Betty.”

“And Ned,” he says, now moving faster, doing the fly, throwing his own t-shirt on.

“Inside out,” she says. Not to be helpful, just so that Peter doesn’t give away exactly what they’ve been doing with their time since their friends left.

She goes to swat him when he comes towards her, but then his fingers are buttoning one side of her overalls while she does the other. MJ’s just clicked the straps back into place when the front door opens and closes. Sourness fading, she gives Peter a grateful nod for his help.

“Wait,” she hisses. “Where’s the condom?”

On the instruction of some bizarre reflex, he grabs it from the floor and whips it clear across the room, sending it sailing out the window. Her jaw drops in horror.

“I can’t believe you just—"

“Guys?” Betty calls. “The Mexican place up the street was closed, so we just hit the liquor store for now. How’s the bedroom coming?”

MJ and Peter race to the door; she pulls it closed so fast that it smacks him in the ass, but then he gives her this stupid look like he liked it. And here’s Betty.

“You’re sweaty,” she notes. “Been working hard? You guys get the curtain up?”

“Yep,” MJ says honestly. “No problem.”

Her friend beams in satisfaction, but her expression shifts to conspiratorial as she links her arm through MJ’s and starts to guide her towards the kitchen, likely wanting to know if Peter said anything else colourful during her absence. Except that moron decides to pipe up from right behind them.

“And when we finished with the curtain, we moved on to the bed.”

“You did what?” Ned demands from the kitchen, then comes hurtling around the corner.

“No,” Peter gasps. He flings himself back to the bedroom door and blocks it, holding both hands out to keep his best friend back.

“MJ?” Betty questions with a growing grin.

She glances between the three of them for a moment and realizes there’s no way Peter’s keeping this secret. Time to go on the defensive.

“You brought me here,” MJ argues. “I can’t be blamed for my weakness for organizing—”

“Oh,” Betty shoots back. “For organizing and not for—”

“—apartments. All I—”

“—Peter, who you were so clearly attracted to from the instant you saw him?”

“—wanted to do was—”

“Me?” Peter says, taking a hopeful stab in answer to MJ’s explanation.

She glares at him.

“You flirted shamelessly with me all day—”

“You didn’t even realize I was flirting.”

“—so how am I supposed to help it if— Oh,” MJ says, catching the end of that comment, “and is that supposed to negate the effect it had?”

“I loved the effect it had. I have nothing to say against it.”

“How did you two go from shy teenagers sneaking glances at each other to an old married couple within the last half-hour?” Ned asks, jubilant.

“You’d have to ask my new neighbours,” Peter says calmly. “I think the scream they overheard is probably enough of an explanation.”

“That scream was on you,” MJ protests.

“And the noise complaint I’ll probably get is on you!”

“Sounds like you two should exchange numbers,” Betty suggests brightly. “In case you need to follow up for that noise complaint.” They both look at her. Then, MJ withdraws her phone from the back pocket of her overalls and pushes it into Peter’s hand.

“Fine,” she says.

He agrees with a shrug, eyes on the screen as he taps out his information.

“Come on, you crazy kids,” Ned coos, “let’s grab a beer while they’re still hot from the walk back.”

Betty giggles at this and twines her fingers through her fiancé’s.

In the kitchen, she pulls MJ aside right as MJ’s contemplating squeezing past Peter a second time on the pretext of getting ice. (The first time, she pressed her ass to his groin and felt him rub against her in response.) She didn’t even need the ice; she dumped it straight into the sink.

“So, how was that?” Betty asks, searching MJ’s face keenly for approval and recognition of a job well done.

“Perfect,” MJ has to grant her. “He did something incredibly irritating right before you guys got back, so I’m sure he found my annoyance entirely organic.”

“Method number sixty-three for getting a guy’s number still works like a charm. Though you know you could’ve just asked me for it.”

“Yeah, but messing with him was more fun.”

Her friend smiles against the lip of her bottle.

“Do you feel bad?”

“Nah. He’s been messing with me all day.”

“Hey, MJ,” Peter calls to her from where he and Ned have started emptying another box marked ‘KITCHEN’. “You wanna help me screw something to the wall later?” Smiling broadly, he waves a magnetic wall-mounted knife holder.

“Like that,” MJ stresses to Betty, then tosses her bottle cap so it bounces off Peter Parker’s stupid, smug, handsome face.

[little-diable]

The end of the world - Negan (fluff/angst)

!Don’t copy or edit my work, without asking for my consent!

Request by @negans-attagirl​ : First of all: I love your stories! Would you have time writing a story with Negan/OC where the OC is a psychologist and Negan is her patient and he is like the sassy king we now during sessions, she tries to suppress her growing feelings for him but sooner or late gives in. A nice sidekick would be if she gets stalked by another patient and Negan saves her one day before they get intimate. I hope that’s not too specific. Anyways thank you so much! 🥰🥰🥰

Decided to include the request into something I’ve been working on. Inspired by Billie Eilish version of the song. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Negan and the reader have to live through the end of the world, the day where the apocalypse started

tw: angst, this could be triggering for some of you, mentions loss of loved ones. 

(Credit to gif owner) 

“Negan, right?”, she double checked his name, eyes drawn to the tall, handsome man, “damn right doll”, his raspy voice made her shiver. His leatherjacket crunched with every step he took, plopping down in the chair in front of her, eyes shamelessly checking her out, already forgetting, why he had decided to visit her office. 

He’d turn up once a week, barely talking about his fears, his nightmares, that kept him laying awake at night, his sassy comments would keep her on her toes, flushed cheeks hidden away from his curious eyes. “Sweet lord, doc that skirt does some things to me”, Negan chuckled, towering above her, tongue darting out to wet his lips, hands slowly wandering down her sides. “I’m your therapist Negan, we can’t”, she sounded unconvinced, shaky voice echoing through the room. 

But he wouldn’t be Negan, if he’d ever listen to her, lips meeting hers in a passionate kiss, drowning out the sounds of her moans. Both had been hooked on each other from the first day on, he’d ask her out on dates and at one point he’d ask her to move in with him, followed by the night, where he proposed. He’d keep her sane, would protect her at all costs, shamelessly in love with her. 

They had their lives planned out in front of them, would try for kids at point point, living together in a small house, just enough for their little family, but sometimes dreams would simply not come true. Something both would have to accept rather sooner than later.

Breathe the air again, it's a beautiful day I wish this moment would stay with the Earth Some primal paradise

It should have been a day like any other, should have been a day, where they’d savor their time together, getting lost in each others embraces as they were watching show reruns, giggling about the words they knew by heart by now, it should have been a day like any other. 

But it wasn't. 

Both woke with a heavy feeling clouding their minds, they took a few extra moments for themselves, touching and kissing each other, as if they were trying to remember how to other one would taste, how their skin would feel underneath their fingertips. 

Negan was towering above her, hands cupping her cheeks, lips pressed against hers, “I love you”, the words were burned into her mind, words she’d never forget, till her last breath would leave her body. “I love you too”, the words carried some heavy weight, engulfing him like a thick blanket on a cold December morning, cradling him in its fabric. 

“Maybe we should take some time for us, somewhere else, where we could just be on our own?”, (y/n) combed her hand through his hair, staring at the man who’s last name she had been carrying for years by now. “I’d love that doll”, he smirked at her, even though Negan didn’t truly felt the wave of happiness crash upon him, like he had desperately hoped for. 

They had been wrapped in each others arms as the broadcast went live, reporting about the killings, the accidents, how the government and the armed forces were desperately trying to get the situation under control, empty words, lies, that would stick to them for a while. He bit his tongue, rising from the sofa, “pack a bag doll”, they had to leave, had to make it out of there, Negan knew, that they’d only manage to make it, if they’d leave now. 

If the end of the world was near Where would you choose to be?

Tears were blurring her vision as she grasped his hand a bit tighter, (y/n) couldn’t reach her parents, with trembling limbs she blindly followed him, not being able to focus on anything or anyone. “What if something happened to them?”, she sobbed, holding onto him, “we need to check on them, see, if they’re alright Negan”. He desperately wanted to give in, wanted to drive her over to her parents house, like they’d do any Sunday, eating lunch together as they’d talk about god knows what. 

But he knew, that there wouldn’t be any Sunday lunches ever again, at least for a while. 

Negans mind kept working on autopilot, dragging (y/n) along with him, out of their apartment complex, head whipping from one side to another, running towards their car. “Negan?”, she frantically repeated his name, couldn’t truly grasp what was going on, she felt confused, anxious and panicked. The smell of something burning hung in the air, the sound of sirens echoed through their street, “listen to me”, he grasped her chin, forcing her glassy eyes up to his. 

“We need to make it out of here”

His words didn’t leave any room to argue, didn’t give her any time to come up with a remark, Negan started the car and reversed out of his spot, driving towards the highway, they’d be able to make it out of there, to save themselves, nothing would rip them away from each other. 

At least, that’s what he thought. 

We would love again Under glorious suns With the freedom that comes with the truth

She tried to drown out the screams, tried to forget about the weird walking people, wondering what was going on, wondering what was happening, but the rapid beating of her heart brought its realization with it, the end of the world was near, at least that’s what it felt like. (Y/n) watched a few cars crash together, people ran around the streets, crying for help, watching them speed by as they were making their way towards the highway. 

“Fuck”, his raspy voice ripped her out of her thoughts, they were surrounded by hundreds of cars, stuck in a thick traffic jam, apparently they haven’t been the only ones, who wanted to get out of the city. “It’ll be alright”, it sounded more like a question, her shaky voice made his heart clench, Negan felt sick, he wasn’t one to get anxious, wasn’t one to lose his focus, but today all of his beliefs had left him behind. 

Hours seemed to pass by, the screaming wouldn’t stop, cars would honk all through the afternoon, cursing as they were stuck, not moving forward. “What’s wrong with them?”, (y/n) pointed her finger towards a group of slow walking people, blood was dripping down from their clothing, their hair was hanging into their faces, their skin had turned greyish, the sight made a lump form in her throat. 

Both kept their eyes focused on the nearing crowd, Negan's instincts seemed to kick in, like a few of the drivers near by, he pulled (y/n) out of their car, strapping their bags, running towards the forest, not looking back once. “Doll”, Negan panted, eyes finding hers every now and then, they were surrounded by quite a few people, all running into the same directions, crying and begging for help. Groans echoed through the night, the chilling sound made her shiver, lose her focus for just a second. 

A second enough to make her let go of his hand, falling behind, losing all sight of him. 

If we had five more minutes Would I, could I, make you happy?

“Negan?”, (y/n) screamed, tears were welling up in her eyes, her breathing quickened, she tried to pick up her speed, but it seemed like she got lost in the crowd, getting pushed into another direction. She called his name over and over again, swallowing down her sobs, by now the sun began to set, her feet were hurting, she was sweating, feeling more exhausted than ever. 

He couldn’t find her anywhere, couldn’t hear her voice, no trace of his wife as he combed through the crowd, he tried to move against the current, tried to make his way back, but the people seemed to pull him with them, not giving him any chance to make a run for it. “(Y/n)?”, he’d call her name every now and then, he wouldn’t give up, not on her, not on his (y/n). 

“Here”, one of the guys pushed his baseball bat into Negan's hand, tugging Negan with him, eyes focused straight ahead, running through the forest, hoping to make his way out alive. The thought of her wouldn’t leave his mind, his heart was aching for her, praying that she had found somebody to keep her safe, Negan wouldn’t rest, not until he had found her. 

If we had five more minutes of air to breathe And we cried all through it But you spent them with me On our last few drags of air we agree I was and you were happy

-----------------------

There’ll most likely be a part 2 xxx

[freakynct]

「𝒂-𝒛 𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔」

— dong sicheng

‏‏‎ ‎

a; aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he likes simple aftercare, holding you in his arms after sex, kissing your cheeks and lips and just cuddle. he doesn't go all out with aftercare but he's super sweet

b; body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his favorite body part on himself is probably his lips. on you it's your legs, even tho it's a close tie with your collarbones and neck

c; cum (anything to do with cum basically)

i think he's very neat with it. i don't see him as someone that likes things super messy, so he prefers to cum inside you or inside your mouth. i feel like he doesn't cum a whole lot, just enough

d; dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

winwin is shy and timid but he doesn't like when the members treat him like a baby. he doesn't like oversharing with them either, he likes to have his private life but for some reason, there's something about knowing that the other members can hear him fuck you that turns him on so much. he thinks you're oblivious to it, but you know exactly why he insists in fucking you against the bedroom door or tells you to be louder. sometimes he'll even want to have sex in the living room or in another member's bed. he just loves to show the other members that he's more than just a cute face and that he's a grown man that knows what he's doing

e; experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i think he might seem like someone that didn't have many partners but i actually think he had a few. not many but more than three. winwin knows what he's doing and he's good at luring his partners to perform his favorite kinks without having them ask too many questions

f; favourite position (goes without saying)

he loooves to have you from behind, specially if you're completely laid down in bed and he's standing or on his knees. gives him the opportunity to bite on your shoulder or pull on your hair which he loves too

g; goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

joking around during sex is a no no for winwin. i really see him as the serious type when it comes to sex. laughing or goofing around during the act just kinda ruins it for him

h; hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

i see him treaming it suuuuper well, there's nothing out of place, he's careful with that

i; intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

winwin isn't the most romantic kind, i have to be honest. not that he can't be romantic or loving during sex but what really turns him on is to have control over you and fucking you rather rough. i feel like romantic and slow sex would only happen if it's something that you really want and you ask him for it. in that case he has no problem in changing his ways to match your needs. again, not the type to put rose petals on the bed or have music playing but he will show a lot of affection. lots of kisses everywhere, bodies tight against each other, lips brushing softly, slow and deep thrusts… winwin knows how to make you feel good even when he's not being rough

j; jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he doesn't do it often. maybe 2 to 3 times a week, maybe less, depending on work schedules and how tired he is. he only feels the need to jerk off if he's really really horny or the dirty thoughts about you won't leave his head all day. other than that, it's not something he needs to do all the time, it's just something to relief himself quickly when he doesn't have somebody else to do it for him. he needs to be completely alone to do it, so either when nobody is at the dorms or in the shower, while the water runs through his body. i see him as the type to jerk off fast and tries to get off as quickly as possible, doesn't like to tease or edge, he just wants to cum. probably thinks about you sucking his cock while he masturbates and just the thought of your lips around him is enough to send him over the edge

k; kink (one or more of their kinks)

winwin is hard to decipher when it comes to this, but if i had to guess i would say his main kinks are power play, exhibitionism, hair pulling [giving], face fucking [giving], light bondage [giving], choking [giving], light biting [giving], semi-public sex, sensory deprivation [giving] and begging [receiving]

l; location (favourite places to do it)

he likes to do it inside the house/dorms but he doesn't mind where. he likes to do it in his bed, couch, kitchen, bathroom, it doesn't matter as long as he is inside the comfort of his home. however he does enjoy fucking in semi-public places from time to time

m; motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

he loves when you touch him or when you get needy in front of other people. he gets shy and flustered when you do it but he can't help but twitch in his pants when you beg in his ear for his cock with that cute voice of yours. makes him immediately want to grab you and take you somewhere close to give you what you want so bad

n; NO (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i think winwin would get weirded out by the whole age play and pet play thing. for some reason i just see him not liking or wanting to try those things. having you act like you're younger or like you're a cat/puppy is just too much for him

o; oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

i feel like winwin prefers to receive oral than giving most of the time. he loves to watch your lips wrapping around him, hold your hair in his hand and thrust into your mouth. also loves when he takes his cock away from you and you stick your tongue out for more, begging to suck him again, that turns him on so much! but i feel like winwin is sooo talented at eating you out too, even if he doesn't do it all the time. he just knows exactly where to lick and suck you and how much pressure he should use. he can literally make you cum with his tongue in just a few minutes

p; pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he's definitely more rough, we've discussed this. but i don't think his thrusts are fast. i think he likes more steady, deep and hard thrusts. he compliments it with rougher actions, like pulling on your hair or grabbing you and tossing you around, biting your skin… that's the way he likes it

q; quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

not often or his favorite thing but he likes them. like i've mentioned, if you tease him in front of other people he will drag you somewhere to fuck you, even if he needs to do it in a short period of time. when he wants to fuck you, he's going to fuck you

r; risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

i've said this before too but he loves semi-public places. loves the thrill of knowing that someone might hear your desperate moans and loves to watch you try to keep quiet as he fucks you even harder. he's open to experiment but only if he's interested in the kink too, if not, then he might get reluctant to it

s; stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

winwin will only go for more than one round when he's feeling extra horny or when you beg him really nicely to keep fucking you. normally he likes to make sex last a good amount of time. he doesn't like rushing and instead of making you cum multiple times, he prefers to drag it and edge you so you have one big explosive orgasm. you'll get so tired by the end of it that another round is the last thing on your mind

t; toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i feel like he might own some, specially plugs. he absolutely loves to see you wearing a plug as he fucks you, that's so hot to him. i don't see him owning dildos and stuff like that, only small things that he can tease you with when he feels like it

u; unfair (how much they like to tease)

he doesn't tease for a really long time but he likes doing it. that also comes with loving to hear you beg for him, so he uses it to his advantage. remember when i said that it turns him on when you get needy in front of other people? well he loves to ignore you for a while until you're literally describing to him exactly what you want him to do to you and that's when he breaks

v; volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

winwin isn't very loud. he grunts and groans most of the time when it feels really really good. he's also the type to try and hold his moans in but fails and lets go of loud groans sometimes, specially when he's fucking your mouth

w; wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

sicheng's lips worked gently against the skin of your neck, his hands running up your thighs to pull you closer to him, your legs straddling his lap on the couch. "what if they come back home?" you murmured as your eyes fluttered close at the feeling of a hickie being sucked into your neck. "they'll be out till late." he moved his head up to brush his lips against yours before pulling you in for a deep kiss, his hand making its way between your legs. "and what if they come? are you scared they'll see you moaning for my cock? hm, baby?" you held your whimper in as his fingers started moving slowly over your panties. "you're already getting wet at the thought of it, aren't you?" i can feel it." a chuckle escaped his lips as your cheeks turned bright red, embarrassed for letting such filthy thoughts turn you on so much. "don't worry, baby. i'll make sure they see just how well your little pussy can take me."

x; x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

i feel like he's a little above average and has average thickness. i also think his cock is super pleasing to see, very beautiful and well structured, makes you want to wrap your lips around it immediately

y; yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

winwin doesn't get horny all the time or at everything. i feel like he would want to have sex about 4 to 5 times a week, maybe less. but, just like i mentioned before, there are certain things that just set him off immediately, so if you really want to get him in the mood, all you have to do is tease him the right way

z; zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

for some odd reason, i don't see winwin falling asleep right after sex. i think he cuddles and spends some time with you, maybe you even end up falling asleep in his arms or chest first and he just scrolls through his phone until he gets sleepy

[demivampirew]

Brothers

An August-Walter one-shot

Summary: August helps his twin brother rescue you, who’d been kidnapped.

Triggers: Kidnapping; death; drunk-driving; violence; use of curse words; heartbreak; family problems; death of parents

Tag list: @lunedelorient​​ @henrythickcavill​ @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ @mary-ann84​ @desperate-and-broken​ @peakygroupie​ @summersong69​ @ivvitm1109​ @madbaddic7ed​

The phone kept ringing non-stop. August was finishing getting ready to go meet Erika Slone to give him the information about a new case. He looked at the screen when it started but ignored it when he saw who was the caller. He hadn't talked to his brother in years and long before that their relationship was not at its best. He'd never forgive Walter for blaming him for their parent's death, even though he blamed himself as well - he should have told his parents he had more than a few drinks before driving them off to the airport for their trip. But he didn't want to disappoint them, to give them a reason to once more complain about how fucked up he was and that he should be more like his sibling; the golden child, the one that could do no wrong. After half an hour of the constant ringing, August finally decided to accept the call. - What the hell you want, Walter? I'm busy.- He said angrily and annoyed. - Y/N was kidnapped. - Walter said. His brother could hear the fear and sadness on his voice. He was heartbroken. But he wasn't the only one. As soon as he heard those words, it felt as if someone dig a hand into his chest and crushed his heart. Their relationship was bad, but they tried to get along for a while and they succeeded until you came along. You moved next to his house and became friends with him. He fell for you and thought about giving everything up for you. He planned to get a normal job, to carry a simple life so you'll never be in danger and could be happy. Yet, life was once more unfair to him. Walter showed up one thanksgiving to spent the day with him and you were there. Long story short, he soon had you on his arms. The golden child, the one who could do no wrong, made the woman of his dreams fall deeply in love with him. August thought about sharing his feelings with you, but he saw that there was no point. You soon moved out to live with Walter, taking all the light in his life with you. After that, he lost all contact with his remaining family. He knew; his brother knew how he felt about you, but his feelings towards you made him ignored how selfish it was to be with the woman his own blood loved and did exactly that. That's when August realized he and his brother would never be in good terms again. He'll never forgive him for that. Now, hearing that you've been taken and that you could be suffering right now or even worse made him feel nauseous and filled him with anger. He wanted to find the people who did that to you and kill them. If someone made you suffer, they would suffer twice the pain you have. And he wanted to hurt his brother. How he let that happen? If you would be with him, he'd had murder anyone who tried to put a hand on you. - I know you hate me... I don't blame you for that. But I also know you care a great deal about her.- Walter continued after a long silence.- I'm using all the sources I have and asking favours to people I know looking for help to find her, but her whereabouts are still unknown. I'm begging you, Charlie, help me find her.- he begged. - August. Charlie not longer exists and you know that. - he corrected him. He heard his brother sigh. - August.-he accepted.- Please. I know your resources are bigger than mine. I need you to help me get her back safe. - What information do you have about her disappearance?- he requested - The last person to see her was her boss. She said that after leaving the store, she saw her get in her car and then she turned to read a phone message and when she looked back, the car was gone. We checked the security cameras of the store and there was no footage of that day. The same thing happened with the ones two blocks around her working place. After that, there's no sign of her or her car or any car for the matter. It's like if she had vanished.- Walter explained worriedly. - That's because that was the plan of the people who took her.- August assured furious- This wasn't a job of a creep. Whoever kidnapped her, knew exactly what was doing, who she was and planned it. - You think that...this is about taking her as a sex...-his brother couldn't even finish the sentence. - No. This is more personal. This is about revenge.- he sighed, closing his hand in a fist to control his rage. He felt a fire raising in his body. People would get hurt. He would make sure of that. There was a long silence before anyone spoke again. Both brothers were suffering, fearing the worst. - Keep me informed about any new information you find. - August ordered Walter. - Same for you.-he agreed.- And Char... August, thank you. - I'm not doing this for you.- he replied. - I know. Still, thank you.- he finished and August hung out the phone with saying anything else. It was revenge, there was no doubt of that on August's head. The question was revenge against who? For what? This wasn't about you; you were just an employee at a clothing shop. A lovely woman who wouldn't hurt a fly. So why anyone would want to hurt you? No, the plan was to use you against someone close to you. There were only two people that could have somebody wanting revenge: Walter, a police Lieutenant working on homicide section of the force or, well, himself; a double agent working for the CIA and with a rebellious organization looking to tear down the CIA from the inside. Could have someone on the CIA found out that August was also John Lark and was trying to attack him for that?  How could that be possible? He was pretty good a covering everything up, although he had to admit to himself that that seemed more likely that someone trying to hurt Walter. That infuriated him more. He hated himself his entire life for causing his parents deaths; he could even allow the thought of being the reason something bad happened to you. He immediately contacted all The Apostles working in the CIA to search for her.  He had to go to meet Sloane so she wouldn't find out about you. If this wasn't her doing, it was best for her not to know that there was someone he cared about if someday things went wrong. He pretended to care about the mission. As much as he wanted to do nothing but search for you, he needed to do what his boss asked him to. His mission was to find a folder with secret information that could hurt the organization. Something that the Apostles would love to have access to. I took him two days to recover the archives and made a copy before returned them to Erika Slone. She was impressed by the speed of his work, that she granted him a few days off to handle personal business. The people working with him in secret were not happy with him using their resources to find an "insignificant woman," as one of them pointed out to August, which unleashed his anger and he beat him until he was agonizing. After that nobody questioned him anymore. The more time it passed without knowing about you, the more desperate he'd get and the more dangerous he became. He tried to sleep because he needed to be ready to fight, but there was no chance he'd sleep knowing you were still in danger. He texted his brother a few times to check for new information but he was clueless as he was.

Three weeks had passed since the last time you were seeing. And, for the first time, August had received useful information. Your father, whom you haven't seen since you were twelve years old, had adopted a new identity years ago, putting himself in a protection witness program after giving up some dangerous gangsters he used to work for. August took the first flight he found to Florida to search for him. The man in his middle sixties entered his apartment to find the tall, muscle man wearing a brown suit with a beige shirt and a tie. The big man was sitting on the couch, that looked much smaller than it was with him sitting on it. August stood up, fixing his blazer, adopting a further dangerous appearance. - Who are you? - you father asked. - Your worst nightmare if you don't cooperate.- he warned him. - What do you want from me?- he questioned - Your daughter - Walker started - I have not daughter.- the man replied, shaking - Your new you doesn't, but the old one does. Remember Y/N? The daughter you cowardly abandoned when she was a child? She's been taken by someone and I want to find her. As soon as August explained the reason for his visit, your progenitor covered his face with both hands, sitting on a chair, crying. - My little girl... I thought she'd been safe without me around.- he cried.- They've taken her. This is their doing.- he assured. - Who are they?- August demanded he was about to lose all the remaining patience. - My former boss. He's one of the biggest gangsters in the country. He's bad news. - your father informed.- I started to work for him when y/n was born and I had recently lost my job and was desperate for money. I had a daughter to take care of. At first, my job was simple, just being his driver. Soon enough, my job included cleaning blood for the car and covering for him and help his people get rid of bodies. One day I could no take that anymore, so I confessed the story to the FBI and they offered protection if I gave them all the information necessary to arrest him, so I did that. My family didn't know about my wrongdoings, so I prefered for them to think that I abandoned them to know what kind of man I was. The FBI was supposed to take care of her. August sighed. A part of him wanted to crush his skull for being the reason you were in danger and for abandoned you, and other part felt a little sympathy. He also knew what it was to make mistakes that caused pain to loved ones. - Probably they did that until she was an adult and thought she was safe when she started to date a police Lieutenant.- your partner's brother explained.- Tell me everything you got on him. There has to be any useful information you can give me to find her. - Who are you? Why are you doing this? - I'm someone who'd do anything to bring her home safe and that's all you need to know. Now, start talking.

August found you on a room laid on a bed. You were on fetal position, covering your face with your hands, facing the wall. He approached you and stroke your hair and you turned around quickly, shaking of fear. Your eyes were red and a bit swelled due to crying. As soon as you realized who it was, you hugged him with all the strength you had left and cry. He embraced you, pulling you closer to him, making you feel safe. He gave you his blazer to keep you warm and help you get out. He covered your face and asked you not to watch, but you inevitable you saw a room filled with dead bodies. You closed your eyes trying to erase that image. He sat you on the passenger seat of a car and soon he was sitting on the driver's side. He drove for a few hours and then stopped at the side of the road. You looked at him and he smiled at you, stroking your face and pulling the hair behind your ear. " Walter is picking you up here. He's on his way," August explained. You nodded. You tried to grab his hand, but pulled right away when you felt the heat of his skin; your hands were freezing and you didn't want him to be cold. He noticed that, so he took your hand and use his hands to warm them up. "Thank you, Aust," you said smiling, "thank you so much". You took him by surprise. It's been such a long time since he heard you call him Aust, the nickname you gave him soon after you became friends with him. He missed that, a lot. He turned the heat of the car for you to get warm. Two hours later, you saw a car stop in front of you. It was Walter's Ford F-150. As soon as you recognized it, you jumped out of the car and ran into him. He imitated you, getting off the car just in time to catch you when you thew yourself into his arms. He hugged you, putting his hand on the back of your head in a protective manner. You could feel his heavy breath. He grabbed a big jacket from the back of the car and put it on you, giving you his gloves as well. Walter faced his brother when he approached to make sure you were ok before he left. He offered a hand for August to shake, thanking him for saving you. He, as stubborn as he was, ignored him and turned around and started to walk off. Before getting into the car, he shouted to you not to worry, that he had taken care of the bad guys and now you were completely safe and then he turned on the car and drove away. You hugged and kissed Walter. He kissed all over your face and then helped you get on the car to take you home.

[minicy]

Ive been thinking about clothes today.

I have a sweatshirt I bought from the h&m men's section when I was a freshman in high school. Wore it constantly too. I still have it, though now the wrists are a bit stretched out and theres stains on the sleeves and the inside is all chewed up like old sweatshirts always get after you wash that fleecy inside part hundreds of times. I've worn this sweatshirt to events and around the house and to visit friends I dont know anymore and to places I'll probably never go again. I met people while wearing this sweatshirt, people whose names escape me now and whose lives I'll never know. So many things in life have come and gone and this dumb sweatshirt's held out longer than all of them. I bought it out of desperation, it was so cold that day and I had nothing with me. My friend i was with had just transferred schools, she wasnt in high school yet and i had just gotten to it. Now she's a mother. This sweatshirt is not only older than my friend's child, its older than her relationship with her partner. This piece of cheap cloth made by underpaid and overworked laborers in Malaysia has been in my life longer than I've known I was gay. And I'm wearing it now, too! It's comfortable. Nice. Clean. It smells like my room here in Oregon and the cardboard box I kept it in on the drive here and the closet in Brooklyn i kept it in before that, a closet I will never see again in an apartment I'll never live in again.

Clothes, just regular clothes, plain things, like this heather-grey cowl-neck sweatshirt, unremarkable in every way, don't usually mean a lot. Favorite clothes, though, worn things, worn in so many ways, mean something, and old favorite clothes mean so much more.

I see a shirt, a jacket, a hat, and I can't help but to think about everybody who's worn that. What has that garment seen? Was it loved? The wear and tear on a well-used pocket, the sticky zipper on a tired coat, an old flannel with new buttons. And in sharp contrast, a wrinkled tag on a shirt that smells like mothballs and dust. A never-opened bag containing a spare button, tucked into the pocket of denim begging to be made threadbare after years of waiting. A leather boot that has more creases from the fold of its packaging, that's never known a long walk through nature or through cities or through farms, that is crying out to be used, finally, by somebody who can give it those creases it was made to carry.

No object holds more meaning than that which we give it, but to me, there is something deeply personal about clothes.

[ketsuyuki-hibana-typed]

Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader (Modern Domestic AU) (NSFWish warning)

300 followers hc!!!

Oh My, 300 followers!!! Yaaaaaay!!!! Thank you! Thank you so much, I'm really grateful that I got so many loves and supports from you all! I like the enthusiasms in my askbox, and I really appreciated it from my deepest heart!! I always read your replies and gaaaahhh it always made me happy!! 💮🌸🌺

Warning: Sexual abuse on train, and Trauma

You worked at laboratorium and Sanemi is a math teacher.

Sanemi will wake up first in the morning.

He glanced at your side, you still sleep peacefully. He stroke your hair one or two times and scratched his tummy while yawning. He went to the bathroom.

After some push-ups and sit-ups, he will back with full consciousness and energy

Ready to torture you.

"Wake up." He slapped your arm.

"Wake up." One poke on cheek

"Wake up, dummy." Two poke on cheek.

You groaned and covered yourself with blanket. "Shut up."

"Get rekt you little shit" He pulled out your blanket and started to tickling you

You were a little bit agitated but eventually laugh and beg for your mercy

Both of you fell down from the bed, but he put his palm under your head on time, so you didn't hit the floor

"Sanemi, that's dangerous!"

"Haha, nope." He bites your nose and stood up. "Morning, ugly."

"SANEMI!!!!"

After getting ready on your work suit, you cooked breakfast for both of you and Genya. Nothing really special, just some bread with sunny side on top

But for Sanemi, peeking you with your apron from his newspaper is a blessing in the morning.

"Morning, Nee-san, Aniki."

"Morning, Genya." He helped you pouring coffees. "You have exam today right?"

"Yeah." He grabbed the bread and put them on his mouth, about to dashed out. You hold his shoulder

"Ah, no running while eating. Sit down." Genya hesitated a bit but eventually sit down with Sanemi too. "Hm~ good boy." You patted his head

He blushed and chewed his bread fast before Sanemi noticed.

After Genya went to school, Sanemi and you finally finished the breakfast.

"Why don't you drop him off at school? Both of you work and study in the same place." You said as you locked out the door.

"Nah, he doesn't want to."

"Really? It must be fun if three of us went together."

You hopped into his car.

Sanemi won't let you go to work by train

Because one time, there was incident

You insisted to take the train. He was a little bit hesitating but eventually went with you too

It was really cramped, both of you didn't have choice but to stand. Sanemi nagged while grabbing your hand but his handgrip was slipped off, he seems didn't realize it yet. Now, you were behind him and faced his back with some distance aparting you.

That's okay, you thought. I'll reach him when we arrive to the next station.

Suddenly, a strange hand poked your back, stroking and touching you. That someone dragged his fingers down to your hip. You flinched

'Molester?!" You were panicked but didn't say or do anything. 'But... I'm wearing long skirt and it's not even tight today... So why..."

You tried to distance yourself with that somebody behind you by stepping forward a little, but it's too cramped.

No one seems noticed. You just want to cry

"Sa.." You tried to call Sanemi with your squeaky voice. "Ne..Mi... Help..."

Of course, he didn't hear that.

The molester continued his act and started groping your ass. Something risen and wet even poked your hip.

You felt disgusted but still froze on your stand, too scared to scream. 'Please, please no. Sanemi, please help me.' You squeezed your bag and looked down.

Meanwhile, the train almost arrived at next station. Sanemi felt like something missing from his hand and looked back

"Hey-"

He finally saw you.

Your body trembled, your face was red and tears started to accumulated on your eyes.

Your eyes finally met his. You moved your lips

"Sane... Mi.... Help..."

Something burning inside his body. He bursted in to your place, didn't care if people groaned angrily when he accidentally stepped their shoes

"FUCK YOU!"

He punched that guy right in the face. He even didn't give that guy rest or pulled his pants for awhile. He didn't care and beat him mercilessly

"Sanemi, Stop!! He will die!" You pulled his shirt but he seems didn't want to listen to you

"Hey! What are you doing there!!" The train officer suddenly came from afar.

The automatic door train opened.

"Hehe, next time." This fucking molester didn't regret his action.

Sanemi kicked his face once again and pulled your hand, getting out from there. Both of you ran from the station.

You stopped on a park.

"Sanemi... I'm sorry... I didn't-"

"Show me your back." You turned around.

There is a white stain on your skirt

"Fuck..." He wiped your lower hip with wet handkerchief. He took off his jacket, knelt down and wrapped it around your hip

"Sanemi."

"What? Did something hurt? Did he-"

You suddenly let out fat tears streaming down your face. You never felt disgusted for your entire life. Sanemi must be so upset.

"I'm scared, I'm sorry I didn't do nothing, I'm sorry if I-"

"It's okay, I'm here. You don't have to say sorry." He hugged you, gently caressed your back and kissed your cheek. "I promise there will be no 'next time'." He gritted his teeth. Until today, he always thought that he failed to protect you.

That's why, he will drive you up to place you wanted to go. No matter how busy he is, he'll try to drop and pick you up. Or at least, took taxi.

When you arrived, you will arrange his necktie before went off because he's so damn suck at it.

"Ok, handsome. You're good to go."

"Hey." He holds your arm. "Don't overdo your work. Call me at lunch."

"Will do!" You patted his head.

"Oi, I did my hair for hours."

"Haha, okay, sorry." You waved your hands. "Bye-bye!"

He secretly likes his 'now-kinda-messy' hair, and lets it be until he arrived at school

When he stressed out and angry at his workplace, he will sit at his table, and listen to your recorded voice (He secretly recorded it lol)

"Ok, guess what I draw on your back. Hehe. Nope, that's not it. I write 'I like you'."

"Nemi!" (Fyi, the only peope who could called him like this are you and Genya)

"Sa! Ne! Mi!"

"Sanemi. Hehehe, nothing! Just calling you"

This fucker of you will smile so bright, the teacher room blinded by the lights.

You called him on lunch, and praised the food he made for both of you.

"But why do you put the carrot again."

"In this house, we didn't acknowledge a picky eater."

The students were shocked to death when they found that killer teacher has wife.

"What?! That Shinazugawa-sensei? Really?! wtf this world gonna end soon."

"...but the real question is, did he called her dumb and started to throwing chalk when she can't answer his math question or what."

Okay, did he?

Yes, he did. Except the chalk part, it replaced with "Pinched her cheek"

"THIS IS BASIC MATH. YOU ARE A RESEARCHER!!"

"I DON'T KNOW! IT'S NOT MY PART AND IT'S ALMOST 5 YEARS AGO, WHAT ARE YOU EXPECTING FROM ME?!"

He taught you how to do two math questions while you're about to cry and sniffled, that your tears started to wet your paper.

"All I ask is you're helping me to solve my work... *sobs*"

Both of you basically 'Genya Protecting Squad'

Random People: *complaining about his scary face and hair*

Both of you: DID YOU JUST TALK SHIT TO MY BROTHER?

When it's cold, he likes to make you sit on his lap and.... Err... Put his hand inside your shirt and groping your boobs

"...what are you doing."

"My hands are cold."

"There's heater."

"No, the sensation is different."

Revision, both of you are pervert

You get into his shirt and stick your cheek onto his bare chest while tapping his abs

You: *inhales* WALKING BARA TIDDIES

Him: I am what?

When you're sick because of overworking, he's the one who took care of you. He will 'guard' you 24/7 and will always ready in any case if you need him. Plus the scolding level will increase.

"Say aaah." He pushed a spoonful of soup he made to your lips. You shook your head and pushed back his hand. You sniffled, and coughed. You could feel your sore throat

"I'm sorry, but I can't-"

"Eat." He ordered you. You sniffled once again and make sad puppy face.

Not effective

"Look." He came closer to your face and sticked his forehead onto yours. "I won't leave until you eat this."

Your phone was ringing, it was from your boss. You are about to take the the call, but Sanemi turned off your smartphone.

"Rest." You pouted. "What's with that attitude." He frowned. Like it or not, you finally received his food

"Good girl." He caressed your cooling-pad on your forehead. Your half opened eyes-lid seems so weak, you just put your chin on his hand and mewled like a cat

CUTE SO CUTE, Sanemi holds his chest and hurriedly took a photo.

On day off, you usually went together to movies, parks, mall, book store, aquariums, etc. But mostly, you will invite Genya to go with you two

He didn't mind if you walked beside or in front/behind him on ordinary walking or shopping. He simply hold your hand when you walked beside him

When you walked in front of him, he could fully look at your figure, while you busy to look at behind for some time, in case he stopped

And it's cute because you look like a chick looking for its mother

Or, when you walked behind him, you grabbed his shirt or jacket fabric, afraid if you lose him

And it's.. still so fucking cute

This is funny, but you and Sanemi often showing disgusted face and judging when both of you saw an over limit lovey dovey couple

Random people you met on the way (especially waitress or shopkeepers) sometimes saying words like, "Is your boyfriend a model?"

You shook your head. "Ah, no. He's math teacher."

"And let me correct you." He suddenly popped out. "She's my ex."

You sighed. "Stop telling people I'm your ex." You smiled towards that person. "I'm his wife."

Or if Sanemi was lazy, both of you will stay in the house, being lazy all day. Sometimes you made Ohagi or he invited you to play UNO cards

"If you lose, you had to say goodbye to your favourite hoodie." You smirked while shuffling the cards,

"Fair enough." He calmly took the cards while chewing Ohagi. "If you lose, you had to wear that wireless vibra-"

"ABORT MISSION! ABORT MISSION!"

He tend to kiss you on the lips deeply in a long time. No desire. Just simply a gesture of loving you.

Or kiss you quickly while throwing cheesy lines while doing Kabedon

He will make sudden move when you were casually walked in the house and BAM! His hand slapped on the wall, right beside your ear. He lets his two or three front-button opened

"Hello, single." He looked at your eyes and gave you a quick kiss on your lips, sticking his forehead onto yours

"What is it now?" You sighed.

"I’m no mathematician, but I’m pretty good with numbers. Tell you what, give me yours and watch what I can do with it."

"You are basically math teacher, Sanemi. And you know what?"

"What?"

"Are you my math homework? You seem hard and ready to be done on my desk."

And that's when he loses it and you already know what happens next

He first discovered things called menstruation when he accidentally spotted tampons on the table

"What is this?"

"AAAAAHHHH WAIT WAIT" You snatch that thing from his hand.

"??? What is that?"

"You- you don't know? It's for girls! On- on period!"

"What is period?"

"....are you even science."

You explained him about 'red day' and he nodded.

"Did it hurt your stomach? Because it's bleeding."

"Yeah, sometimes."

"You need warm tea?"

"Um, prob-"

"Is there anything that could reduce the pain?"

"I tend to-"

"Wait, lemme Google this."

After that, he treated you like a princess everytime you had period.

You usually went for coffees in the evening with him after works. Both of you like to sit together while telling each other stories even opinions

And you will never make up your mind for the coffees. So he usually took the role.

"Uh, I- I'll take-"

"I'll take Quad, Venti, 2 pumps, breve, extra-hot, no-whip, Toasted White Mocha. And she will take Solo, 1-pump, whole milk, light ice, Caramel Brulée Latte."

You just stand there like a dumb person

After coffees, both of you will shop together for dinner. He usually the one who decided the food.

"Kare, but I'm tired."

"I'll be the one who cook then."

"Hm, maybe... Shirt and apron only will be good on-"

"SHUT UP."

Three of you will eat together on the dinner table. Genya loves your food, so he usually gave his bowl to you and asked for seconds.

Sometimes bathe together. You will scrub his back. He likes it when both of you dipped in bathtub and with you laid your back on his chest.

"I don't like your panda eyes." You looked up and poked his cheek.

"Don't mind that."

"I DO mind."

So after bathe, you will put Aloe Vera sheet-mask on his under eyes. He didn't really like it at first, but after you put off his mask, his face became relaxing and he liked it.

Both of you tend to go to your shared bedroom first than Genya, because he still wanted to watch TV.

"Sanemi, you haven't sleep yet?"

When you about to pulled your blanket, you saw him with his anti-radiation eyeglasses, still facing his laptop.

"No. Go first." Your eyes are settled at his cup

"Stop the caffeine, I'll make you tea."

You get up and go to the kitchen. You found Genya asleep on the couch.

You turned off the TV and woke Genya from his sleep, telling him to move to his room.

You came back to your room with two cups of Darjeeling tea and some cookies, putting the tray beside him

You opened a novel book and put your head on his shoulder

You didn't say anything but humming a slow song beside him.

And sometimes, if he knew the song, he will hum together with you.

You stayed with him until he finished, no matter how much hours he spended on his works.

"It's strange."

Both of you now under the blanket, intertwined your fingers and facing each other

"What is it?"

"I never dream of living with wife before, I always thought I'll just live with Genya, and being single for the rest of my life."

You chuckled. "Me too, never thought someone really picked me up because I'm a potato."

"Dummy." He kissed your forehead and nuzzled his nose on your neck.

"Sweet dreams."

[heresathreebee]

Garrote part 9

[Starz Power Diego Jimenez x Jazmine Mann (Black!OC)]

Word count: 3k words

Warning(s): Explicit (+18) | sibling angst, mention of past drug use, roleplay sex!, UNPROTECTED sex (wrap your willy before you get silly), clothed sex, dirty talk, oh uh minor voyeurism. Previous Masterlist Next

AN: No beta, all mistakes are my own. Why is it so goddamn difficult to apply gifs to a post. I promise I’ll sort the masterlist tonight! Also tags will be moved to the bottom under the cut. Let me know if you’d like to be added

Gif creator @padfootwantsatummyrub​ thank you!

Alicia agreed to meet him that same night, and he tried to be presentable, and though he couldn't hide the alcohol on his breath, he was miraculously clean. That was thanks to the girls, of course, he hadn't had a second to snort coke with all their attention and literal begging. His sister was out on a job– Healy had given them the name of the low level thug who stole Porsche. Kennedy belonged to Jason Micic's organization, but Alicia discovered the boy usually did his own jobs. Diego met her just a few miles from his place and watched her work. His presence seemed to make Jason's Right Hand man nervous. 

"Look miss," he had been calling her 'lady' sarcastically before he noticed Diego lurking around in the shadows, "I hear what you're saying and I promise we're gonna fix it. By this time tomorrow, nobody's ever gonna know that kid's name." 

"Good." Alicia took a drag from her cigarette and held out a hand. The man reached out to shake it, but she snatched his wrist and put the cherry out on his forearm. He screamed, lurching his arm out of her grasp and gaining a few claw marks in the process. "Make sure it never happens again, claro?" 

They left him cradling his arm and stalked over to the alleyway of a greasy midnight diner. Diego held the door open for her, instructing her guard with a look to wait outside (his guard did the same). Alicia picked a booth in the back and ordered whiskey and fries– the very mention of which made Diego's stomach growl. 

"What do you want, Diego?" Alicia was stoic, already a note of disappointment fell from her voice as if she expected something childish. 

He took a deep breath to collect himself. 

"I'm sorry, sister," he said. She raised an eyebrow, but he continued, "I've been reckless and stupid and I almost got us caught because of it. You said those fucking pigs wouldn't have had anything on us except for my gun, and I can't let that happen again. So until we cross the border… no more coke." 

Alicia was, understandably, surprised. "No more coke? You think you can handle that, Diego?" 

His eyes were hard as stone– determined. "For us? Yes." 

His sister relaxed into the red cushions of the booth. Her eyes searched his– for mockery, for tricks, for falsehoods– until her jaw tightened and some raw expression flashed that Diego didn't know how to read. 

"On our mother's grave," he vowed. The trust Alicia was giving him now could not be squandered. It filled him with determination and a desire to be redeemed in her head. On our mother's grave. 

She hugged him. After sitting in perfect, tense silence while he ate all the fries and took a sip of her whiskey, as they were walking back out the door, she hugged him. He felt like a kid again. He felt like he had when their mother had passed away. Those were the only times she had hugged her brother, and it left him feeling raw and exposed like a nerve ending. His head drifted as he drove home and he swiped a tear from his cheek. 

I can do this, he decided. For us. 

It was nearly dawn by the time he got back to the penthouse. The cityscape was always bright at night, but there were a few precious hours in the evening and the morning when enough lights went out that made the city feel truly peaceful. Diego slipped into bed, barely managing to kick off his shoes before falling asleep watching the flurries of driven snow fly past his window. 

~

Someone was jiggling the doorknob. Diego had just enough strength to turn his head and look at the clock to read the time was 5:40 AM. The door to his bedroom opened violently as someone fell in. He lifted his head groggily and recognized the pretty kitten heels hanging from the brown arm with a death grip on the door knob. Jazmine pulled herself up with great difficulty, swaying on her feet like a drunk and slowly maneuvering the door to close behind her. Her half lidded eyes landed on Diego and she smiled. 

"Hey." She sounded hoarse and slurred. "I didn't think you'd actually be here…" 

Diego groaned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, trying to sit up just a bit. "You asked me to be here. What do you want?" 

Something like sickness flashed over her face but only for a second. Her brow smoothed with determination and she sauntered with purpose to the side of his bed. Jazmine pulled his hair lightly and elicited a grunt from him. 

"I saw Haagen last night," she sighed. "When I left, I got a cab and got drunk and… well, here I am." 

Diego had a hard time focusing on her words, what with the gentle petting of his hair causing distraction, but he understood the unspoken story hidden between the lines. He rested a hand on top of her thigh and felt her twitch under his touch but not away from it. 

"If you're not too tired…" Her soft hand slid down, down, down. Stroking over the side of his neck and the open collar of his shirt, caressing his chest and pressing into the plain of his stomach until it mirrored his own touch on her thigh. She even gave him a squeeze which caused him to twitch as she had. "I could use a nice massage." 

Diego felt himself smirk involuntarily. She had his blood pumping now and pushing out the grogginess of a near sleepless night. He squeezed her back in answer but made no move to sit up or do anything else. 

On Jazmine's part, she couldn't take her eyes off of the man. There was something about the calmness and the plain white shirt that made him seem altogether a different man. He didn't look like a drug lord right now– he looked like somebody's husband. Maybe even somebody's dad. She could put that thought to good use…

"You like roleplaying, Diego?" His eyes had drifted shut but one opened curiously. "I can start." 

"Every girl likes doctor and nurse," he mumbled almost to himself. 

Jazmine shook her head. "I've got something else in mind." 

She stood up and tossed her shoes to the side. Only as she was taking it off did Diego notice she was wearing a t-shirt over her dress (in his defense, they were the same color). What she wore beneath was modest, something she could pass off in a church, which was a far cry from the little number she had worn to the club. Jazmine started her story by removing his belt with an agonizingly slow pace. 

"You," she said, tapping the buckle, "are a 9 to 5 office jockey who loves his parents and makes a decent living wage." 

"So sexy," he drawled sarcastically. 

"And I–" she ripped the belt from the loops of his pants eagerly and in one motion, "– am your wife." 

Diego's voice dropped. "Keep going." 

"I take care of the kids and our three story suburban house." She unbuttoned his pants with one hand, struggling and constantly bumping into his junk just to drive him crazy. "And we're so busy with everything we haven't had time to ourselves since our second kid. But guess what?" 

The button finally popping forced air out of Diego's lung, and he pulled his pants down himself as he became impatient. Jazmine was intent on keeping control and straddled his hips with force. His hands found their way up her skirt with ease and he fingered the strap of her panties as he waited for the other shoe to drop. "It's their first day of kindergarten." 

Diego's lust addled brain took a second to catch up. It was harder to do with her warm core putting pressure on his hardening cock, but he managed, and when he did he cocked an eyebrow at her. "Are you saying we haven't had sex in five years?" 

Jazmine hummed. She ground down on his hips, and he couldn't help but buck into her, feeling rock hard and ready. The woman slipped into her role like she was born to it, donning a face of longing with just a pouting lip. 

"I've missed you so much, baby..." 

God, he could not wait to get naked– this would just have to do. Diego sat up until he was chest to chest with 'his wife' and slipped his hands into his boxers to free his cock from its confines. Jazmine wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held onto him for dear life as he pushed her panties to the side and slipped a finger in. 

"So wet, baby," he groaned, "estas listo?" 

American girls loved hearing his Spanish and Jazmine was no different judging by the way she shuddered. He had to do everything by feeling since she refused to let go of him. She slid onto his cock like she belonged there, and although it was truthfully the first time, it felt like the first in a long time. 

Jazmine gasped when he finally bottomed out. Without a condom, she could feel every single vein and ridge of his thick length wedged into her pussy, and just the slightest movement caused the greatest sensations. Diego's warm breath fanned over her chest and she wished she could reach the zipper on the back of the dress to offer her nipples to him. He was content, it seemed, to try and taste them from the outside, and she squeezed his cock as a reward. 

"Oh fuck me." 

It wasn't meant as a request but Diego obliged her nonetheless. He gripped the soft curves between her hips and her waist and used them to bounce her in his lap, not too fast and not too deep, limited by the position but also like he wanted to keep her close to him. His watering mouth soaked through her dress and her lacy bra and when he pulled away to attack the other it left the last cold. 

The sweet burn of Diego's ministrations allowed Haagen's to wash away like footprints on a sandy beach. All that mattered now was Diego, and the unexpectedly tender way he fucked her like she really was the mother of his children. It made her ache where it shouldn't have, deep in her chest, but she didn't fight it and soon the tightening coil in her core won over her attention. 

Diego moaned with his mouth still on her and Jazmine keened in response, wrapping her fingers in his hair and dragging his head up to look at her. His pupils were blown wide but the light from the window still illuminated the deep brown ring of his eyes in a way that was so hypnotic she couldn't look away. 

His lip curled (of course) and the unhinged mischief of his former self shone through. "Want another..." 

She couldn't tell if it was a question for her or a statement from him. He kept her bouncing on his cock as his eyes drifted down to her mouth and back up again. Every time she came down it was harder and deeper than before as she let her whole weight crash into him. "Put another baby in you, huh, muñeca? Make it three…" 

That should not have been as hot as it was. Jazmine whined involuntarily and put both of her hands on his chest to push him onto his back, stalling their impeccable rhythm for a second as she basked in how deep his dick really went. 

He could do it. For real– his cock was naked in her pussy and he had the length to do it better than most. Oh fuck, it's curved, she thought, wishing she was fucking him the other way around. Can't stop now. Can't wait. 

Jazmine began to ride Diego and listened to all the filthy things that fell from his lips. No wonder I married you. 

"Yeah, querida? You like this dick? Want me to cum inside and paint a pretty picture?" 

"Yesss," she hissed. "Oh god. Fuck…" 

"That's it, mama, keep fucking yourself. Don't need my help, do you? Got it all figured out. Put a baby in you and watch you grow again…" 

Jazmine gasped, she was so close, hanging right on the edge. "Fuck, daddy…" 

She didn't even know she'd said the magic word, but the pair came together, and hard. Diego's grip on her waist was bruising and merciless, he filled her up with all he had and then some, and just to make it extraordinary, he made her hips grind into him for good measure. Jazmine's mouth dropped low and saliva dribbled out and dripped into his shirt, her hands tearing a button off as her pussy clenched down on his pulsating cock for a true flood. She was seeing stars when the torrent of endorphins finally drew back, and she collapsed onto his chest, boneless and gasping for air. 

When their breathing had finally slowed down, Jazmine moved just enough of her weight to make them both comfortable without adding distance– for her sake as much as his. There was sweat cooling in the small of her back, Diego’s chest rose and fell beneath her head, and the memory of Haagen faded away like static on a television set. 

“So,” Diego hummed, “I take it that was a bit of a fantasy of yours, eh?” 

Jazmine’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean? Three kids, a house, and a spouse?” She thought about it for a moment and shrugged, “doesn’t everyone, in their own way?” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

"I will admit it was probably most definitely brought on by this," she plucked at his white shirt, smirking with pride at the missing button and pocketing it in her drenched bra. "You look like… well I don't know exactly but this shirt screams normal and I figured you couldn't possibly own something like that." 

Diego hummed but offered no explanation for the unusual attire. He could probably go incognito through a crowd and never be seen with that thing. Now uncomfortable, Jazmine sat up and flung off her dress, admiring the red handprints on her sides. She lay back down into his embrace and chuckled. 

"What?" 

She started drawing circles on his chest with a finger. “I wasn’t sure you could get off without, you know, an audience.” 

Diego shrugged his shoulders (jostling her head in the process) and she could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “of course I can come without an audience. It’s a preference, not a medical condition.” 

“Oh right, sure. Sure.” The warm hand on her back began to slide, tracing up her sides and just short of cupping her face, she felt his fingers graze her earlobe. A groan of irritation ripped through her throat. “I guess you did get an audience after all.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean exactly?” 

Jazmine took her sweet time answering him as she rolled up and over top of him to get to the other side of the bed and to touch the room light remote on the nightstand. Now brighter in the slick black design of Diego’s bedroom, she leaned over him on her elbow and pointed. 

Directly at her fake hearing aid. 

Diego stared for a moment before his cheeks puffed and he blew a raspberry trying to hold his laugh. It exploded from his chest like a bark and his entire body curled into it, which in turn warmed Jazmine to join in. For as cool and unbothered as Agent Healy portrayed himself, there was no way he could have been able to ignore the sounds on the other end of the listening device by the sheer volume of the activities on the receiver. 

Ever the exhibitionist, Jazmine was not surprised to find Diego’s hand pressing into the back of her neck to draw her closer. She rolled her eyes when he leaned forward to speak directly into the microphone, “like what you heard, Healy?” 

The answer came in an instant. Just as Jazmine was debating whether to settle back into the bed or to get up, Diego’s phone rang. The man was having far too much fun as he pushed her under him and reached for the nightstand even though she was closer. His knee fell between her sensitive thighs as he checked the screen. Despite everything, he still looks at her with disbelief as Healy’s contact glares back at him. 

Healy’s voice sounded somehow right coming from a speaker. It matched the sometimes robotic way he delivered them lines about his purpose or his plan. “Yes, Mr. Jimenez, I am always on the edge of my seat when you make a pass at my informant.” 

The expression only flashes for a second across his face, but for a moment Diego looked as uncomfortable as Jazmine felt. It was strange, knowing the name and the face of the person who was surveilling you. Knowing they hear everything all of the time and forgetting, only to remember and wonder if you’ve done something to warrant the shame and embarrassment that floods through you upon recollection. Jazmine was more often than not completely unaware of the thing until it beeped its death notes. She would have to remember to set a schedule for charging it every night, as Healy had suggested before. 

“It’s fascinating the things people get up to when they think they’re alone,” Healy continued, “but if it is any consolation to you, Miss. Mann, I am accustomed to turning a blind eye– or ear, I suppose– to your nonessential activities.” 

Well at least that was something. Diego hung up (or Healy did, she wasn’t paying attention), then turned to look her in the eye with a mischievous glint. 

“What?” 

“Jazz Mann.” 

“Shut the– I’m going to fucking strangle you.”

~~~~~

Alrighty, I think this was pretty successful! But know that it’s all downhill from here (OK, mostly downhill from here). 

@1zashreena1​ @kid-from-new-zealand​ @nicke0115​ @girlpornparadise​ @mental-bycatch​