#and they didn’t call and when i asked how their lunch was the response was

[adumbratrapedme]

Suna x reader | teen pregnancy. pt 1 the news.

Synopsis. a teen pregnancy storie between suna and a reader.

wc. idk | genre. angst to fluff |cw/tags. angst to fluff, teen pregnancy mentions, etc. reader is the twins younger sistah

teen pregnancy series masterlist here!

General headcanons

╭⋅First. You are the miya's younger sister... and somehow you ended in this fwb relationship with suna... their best friend... ╭⋅Once you tell him the reason why you avoided him Suna gets hitted with a mix of shock, guilt, and confusion. ╭⋅He replays every conversation you’ve had in his mind, especially the ones where he pushed you away emotionally. The realization that you might have been going through this alone eats at him. ╭⋅Despite his initial shock, Suna finds himself wanting to take responsibility. He starts showing up at your house under the guise of “visiting Atsumu and Osamu” but sneaks moments to check on you. ╭⋅When the twins eventually discover the truth (that suna is the dad), all hell breaks loose. Atsumu is furious, yelling at Suna for “ruining” their sister’s life, while Osamu takes a quieter but no less intimidating approach, asking Suna how he plans to fix things. ╭⋅After their initial shock they never let Suna or you live it down. Every family dinner comes with a new round of jokes, like Osamu calling Suna “Dadtarō” or Atsumu making fake baby crying noises whenever Suna walks in. ╭⋅There's going to be moments where Suna feels like he’s not enough for you, and you wonder if you made a mistake trusting him. ╭⋅Despite this you guys aren't "oficially" dating (for now mahwhawah)

Suna Rintarō never intended to get too close to Miya Y/N. She was Atsumu and Osamu’s younger sister—off-limits, complicated, and, most importantly, a distraction. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. They were just friends with benefits, nothing more. He’d even told her as much, keeping things casual and detached.

But lately, Y/N had been distant. She stopped texting him late at night, stopped meeting him in the usual places, and, most confusingly, she stopped even looking at him in the hallway. At first, he told himself it didn’t matter. If she wanted to stop, she’d stop. But as days turned into weeks, Suna couldn’t ignore the hollow feeling in his chest every time he passed her and she turned away, tears glistening in her eyes.

Everything came to a head during volleyball practice when Atsumu and Osamu’s voices carried across the gym.

“She’s been crying nonstop,” Atsumu muttered, frustration clear in his tone. “I don’t get it. She won’t tell us what’s wrong.”

“Maybe it’s school stress?” Osamu offered, but even he sounded doubtful. “I haven’t seen her eat much either. She’s been holed up in her room.”

After practice, Suna cornered Y/N outside the school gates. She flinched when she saw him, her hand instinctively resting on her stomach.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” he demanded, his voice sharper than he intended.

Her eyes filled with tears, and she bit her lip, trying to keep them from falling. “You told me this wasn’t serious,” she whispered. “You said you didn’t want anything more, why are you here?"

“I—” Suna faltered. He had said that. But now, seeing her so broken, he wasn’t sure if he’d meant it.

“it's none of your business rintaro” she said, her voice cracking. “Bye.” she said running away.

For the first time in his life, Suna Rintarō was speechless.

A few days later during lunch break Suna sat with the Miya twins, half-listening to their usual banter as he picked at his food. The conversation shifted when Atsumu let out a frustrated sigh.

“Y/n's been acting weird lately,” Atsumu grumbled, shoving a piece of rice into his mouth.

Suna’s hand paused mid-air, chopsticks hovering over his bento. He forced himself to look disinterested, even though his chest tightened.

“What do you mean?” Suna asked, keeping his tone casual.

“She’s pregnant,” Atsumu said bluntly, earning a glare from Osamu.

“Oi, don’t just say it like that!” Osamu snapped. “But yeah. She told us a few days ago.”

Suna’s heart dropped. He stared at his food, trying to keep his expression neutral, but his hand tightened around his chopsticks.

“Do you know who the guy is?” Suna asked, hating how his voice sounded strained.

The twins shook their heads.

“No clue,” Atsumu admitted, scowling. “She won’t say. But when I find out who the bastard is, he’s dead.”

“Real dead,” Osamu agreed, his tone cold. “Leaving her to deal with it on her own? Coward.”

Suna swallowed hard, his throat dry.

“She’s been crying a lot,” Atsumu muttered, his anger fading into something softer. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this. She’s holed up in her room all the time, barely eats... It’s hard to watch, y’know?”

Osamu nodded. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do to help. We’re her brothers, but she won’t talk to us.”

Suna’s chest ached. The image of Y/N crying alone, carrying the weight of this all by herself, was too much. He thought back to the last time they’d been together, the way she’d looked at him like she wanted to say something but stopped herself.

“Maybe she just needs time,” Suna said quietly, barely able to meet their eyes.

During lunch break one day, Suna sat with the Miya twins, half-listening to their usual banter as he picked at his food. The conversation shifted when Atsumu let out a frustrated sigh.

“Our little sister’s been acting weird lately,” Atsumu grumbled, shoving a piece of rice into his mouth.

Suna’s hand paused mid-air, chopsticks hovering over his bento. He forced himself to look disinterested, even though his chest tightened.

“What do you mean?” Suna asked, keeping his tone casual.

“She’s pregnant,” Osamu said bluntly, earning a glare from Atsumu.

“Oi, don’t just say it like that!” Atsumu snapped. “But yeah. She told us a few weeks ago.”

Suna’s heart dropped. He stared at his food, trying to keep his expression neutral, but his hand tightened around his chopsticks.

“Do you know who the guy is?” Suna asked, hating how his voice sounded strained.

The twins shook their heads.

“No clue,” Atsumu admitted, scowling. “She won’t say. But when I find out who the bastard is, he’s dead.”

“Real dead,” Osamu agreed, his tone cold. “Leaving her to deal with it on her own? Coward.”

Suna swallowed hard, his throat dry.

“She’s been crying a lot,” Atsumu muttered, his anger fading into something softer. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this. She’s holed up in her room all the time, barely eats... It’s hard to watch, y’know?”

Osamu nodded. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do to help. We’re her brothers, but she won’t talk to us.”

Suna’s chest ached. The image of Y/N crying alone, carrying the weight of this all by herself, was too much. He thought back to the last time they’d been together, the way she’d looked at him like she wanted to say something but stopped herself.

“Maybe she just needs time,” Suna said quietly, barely able to meet their eyes.

During lunch break one day, Suna sat with the Miya twins, half-listening to their usual banter as he picked at his food. The conversation shifted when Atsumu let out a frustrated sigh.

“Our little sister’s been acting weird lately,” Atsumu grumbled, shoving a piece of rice into his mouth.

Suna’s hand paused mid-air, chopsticks hovering over his bento. He forced himself to look disinterested, even though his chest tightened.

“What do you mean?” Suna asked, keeping his tone casual.

“She’s pregnant,” Osamu said bluntly, earning a glare from Atsumu.

“Oi, don’t just say it like that!” Atsumu snapped. “But yeah. She told us a few weeks ago.”

Suna’s heart dropped. He stared at his food, trying to keep his expression neutral, but his hand tightened around his chopsticks.

“Do you know who the guy is?” Suna asked, hating how his voice sounded strained.

The twins shook their heads.

“No clue,” Atsumu admitted, scowling. “She won’t say. But when I find out who the bastard is, he’s dead.”

“Real dead,” Osamu agreed, his tone cold. “Leaving her to deal with it on her own? Coward.”

Suna swallowed hard, his throat dry.

“She’s been crying a lot,” Atsumu muttered, his anger fading into something softer. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this. She’s holed up in her room all the time, barely eats... It’s hard to watch, y’know?”

Osamu nodded. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do to help. We’re her brothers, but she won’t talk to us.”

Suna’s chest ached. The image of Y/N crying alone, carrying the weight of this all by herself, was too much. He thought back to the last time they’d been together, the way she’d looked at him like she wanted to say something but stopped herself.

“Maybe she just needs time,” Suna said quietly, barely able to meet their eyes.

Suna couldn’t focus during practice. The twins’ words echoed in his head, and every spike he missed earned him a sharp glare from Coach. Afterwards, instead of heading home, he waited near the school gates, hoping Y/N would pass by.

When she finally appeared, her eyes widened at the sight of him. She looked tired—dark circles under her eyes, her shoulders hunched like the weight of the world rested on them.

“Y/N,” Suna called, stepping toward her.

She froze, her hand instinctively resting on her stomach. “What do you want?”

He hesitated, his usual calm demeanor crumbling. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“You’re pregnant,” he said, his voice low. “Why didn’t you tell me it was mine?”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she shook her head. “Because you said you didn’t want anything serious,” she whispered. “I thought you’d hate me if I told you.”

Suna felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He’d been so focused on keeping his distance, so afraid of letting her get too close, that he hadn’t realized how much damage he’d done.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice soft, “I'm an idiot. I... I never meant to hurt you. But please, let me help.”

She hesitated, searching his face for sincerity. “I don’t know if I can trust you,” she admitted.

Suna nodded, accepting her words. “That’s fair. But I’ll prove it to you. I’m not going anywhere.”

EXTRA;

It was a Saturday evening, and the Miya household was unusually quiet. Atsumu and Osamu sat in the living room, bickering over who had eaten the last onigiri from the fridge. Y/N sat nervously on the couch, glancing at Suna, who stood by the door like he was ready to bolt at any second.

“Are ya gonna tell us why you dragged us all here?” Atsumu asked, leaning back and tossing a pillow at Osamu, who caught it without looking.

“Yeah, if this is about Y/N, just spit it out already,” Osamu added, his tone sharper. “We’ve been worried sick, y’know.”

Y/N fidgeted with the hem of her hoodie, her heart pounding. Suna, sensing her hesitation, cleared his throat.

“It’s about the baby,” Suna started, his usual calm façade cracking as the twins’ attention snapped to him.

Atsumu narrowed his eyes. “What about it?”

Suna glanced at Y/N, silently asking for permission. She nodded, her face pale. “It’s mine,” Suna said bluntly, his voice steady but his hands stuffed into his pockets to hide his nervousness.

The room went silent. Too silent.

Then—

“WHAT?!” Atsumu exploded, jumping to his feet. “Yer kiddin’, right? This is some kinda joke, yeah? A sick joke! Osamu, tell me he’s joking!”

Osamu blinked, his usual calm demeanor slipping as he processed the bombshell. “Wait... you’re the one who—” He pointed at Suna, then at Y/N, then back at Suna, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Calm down,” Suna said, raising his hands defensively. “I’m serious. I’m the father.”

“You?” Atsumu screeched. “Of all people, you?!” He looked genuinely offended, like Suna being the father was a personal insult.

“Oi, what’s that supposed to mean?” Suna deadpanned, his eyebrow twitching.

“It means yer a lazy, sneaky little punk who can’t even take volleyball practice or relationships seriously half the time!” Atsumu shot back.

Osamu finally snapped out of his daze, leaning forward with a smirk. “Hold on. Does this mean you two were... y’know...”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Don’t say it, Osamu.”

“Together,” Osamu finished, drawing out the word with a mischievous grin.

Atsumu gagged dramatically. “Gross. I don’t wanna think about that!”

“None of us do,” Y/N muttered, her face burning.

Suna rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Look, I’m here now, okay? I’m taking responsibility. You can yell at me all you want, but I’m not going anywhere.”

The twins exchanged a look, their expressions unreadable.

Finally, Osamu shrugged. “Well, at least he’s owning up to it.”

“Yeah, but it’s Suna,” Atsumu whined. “Our little sister deserves better than that!”

“Oi,” Suna muttered, annoyed.

“Shut it, Rintarō. We’re not done with you,” Atsumu said, jabbing a finger in his direction. “If ya mess this up—if ya hurt her even a little—I swear, I’ll make ya regret it.”

Osamu nodded in agreement. “We know where you live.”

Suna sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Overprotective big brothers and all that.”

Y/N finally looked up, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the tension. “Guys... thank you. For caring. But I can handle this. And Suna’s... here.”

“here,” Atsumu muttered under his breath. “That’s the bare minimum, but fine. For now.”

Osamu stood up, patting Suna on the shoulder with a little too much force. “Welcome to the family, I guess. Don’t screw it up.”

Suna gave him a flat look. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Yer lucky she likes ya,” Atsumu grumbled, collapsing back onto the couch. “I still don’t get it, though. What does she see in ya?”

“Guess I’m just irresistible,” Suna deadpanned, earning a pillow to the face.

TAGLIST:

@chilichopsticks @dreadnoughtus101 @starykari @staygoldsquatchling02 @alpha-mommy69

if you want to be part of the taglist you can always DM me or coment! <3 tysm for ur support guysehehrbe

ngl y'all im having a hard time when making the first part for every character cuz i dont want to be repetitive on "oh you guys are a couple, sex, bAM BABY" or "you guys are friens with benefits, BAM, SEX, BABY!" yk?? so huh yeah-

[vi-enti]

it’s kinda silly how easily people you’ve known and loved all your life and who have known and loved you can forget all about you

[webism]

Choso Kamo is desperate enough as it is, always eager to be touched by you, to taste you on his lips—it's hard to handle. Add a (rather expensive) block of aphrodisiac chocolate to the mix and you think you've made a mistake.

You told him to take only one, and to wait for you to get home to do so. You wanted to take them together and see if what the packaging promised was any true — that you’d be ‘sweating for sex’ in fifteen minutes flat. 

But he didn’t listen, or didn’t care to listen, because you’re still out for lunch with your friends when your phone rings and Chosos contact lights up your homescreen. You have to excuse yourself to take the call and answer with a sweet, unsuspecting ’hey, baby,’ that makes Choso nearly orgasm on the spot. 

“You have to come home.”

“What?” You think maybe you’ve misheard him over the chatter of the sweet little cafe you’re stood in. 

“Please, baby, please come home. I need you so bad it hurts, I’ve cum twice thinking about you because I didn’t want to bother you but it’s not enough and I’m hot everywhere and my stomach hurts because I need you so bad and—”

He never listens. You grumble the entire way home, your annoyance sparking flames over the burning heat in your core at the thought of your pretty boyfriend at home quite literally sweating for sex. You have to remind yourself to be upset at him for not listening because otherwise the thought of him, hot skin stuck to your bedsheets as he fucks into his fist wishing it was you, floods your mind instead. You wonder if he fucks different like this, if his typical gentle touch will be replaced with something needier—you’re of half a mind to deny him his pleasures, but that would be a disservice to yourself as well. 

When you step through your front door, you’re hit with the heavy scent of sex that usually permeates the room after you and Cho have been particularly energetic in between the sheets. It’s confusing, because how can one man fuck himself enough to change the temperature of the house? But it also goes straight to your cunt, a desperate sort of need blooming in your stomach that mirrors your boyfriends. 

The house is quiet, though, despite the fact you half expect Choso to be crying with need. Maybe he finally got it out of his system, called you home for nothing and is probably too spent to fuck the new need out of you. 

But as soon as you step into the bedroom, you’re met with the sight of your beautiful other half laid out on the bed as he fucks his fist so desperately in one hand you’re surprised his speed isn’t painful. His other hand is lifted to his mouth and caught between his teeth in a pathetic attempt to stifle his moans—the walls of your apartment are thin, at least he’s of sound enough mind to consider your neighbours. 

When his eyes lay sight on you, though, his crazed strokes still and he’s climbing off the bed in barely a second to bee-line straight to you. 

“Take a breath,” you manage as he grasp your hips and starts manhandling you to the bed.

“Can’t,” his voice is heavy.

“Cho—“ you’re pushed down onto the bed, your lover following to climb on top of you and attach his lips to the column of your neck. 

“I need you.”

And need he does, you can feel it in the way he slips your clothes from your body with such intent you barely notice it happen. You can feel it in the way his kisses light fire against your skin as he works down your chest, ribs, stomach, hips and finally reaching your aching cunt. 

A swipe of two fingers through your folds is enough to tell Choso you’re as needy as he is… almost. You aren’t quite soaked in sweat and nearly teary-eyed with want. But you’re fucking soaked. 

“Did you eat them too?” He asks, voice laced with want—he’s desperate for a taste of you, and allows himself a moment to swirl his tongue around your clit as your eyes widen in response. 

“No… I just—fuck, Choso, right there.”

You could kill him for pulling away from you, your wetness glistening on his pretty lips as he pouts at you. “Need you. I’ll make you feel so good, I promise, and I’ll eat you after I just…”

“Fuck me, Cho,” you allow him, partially because you don’t think you could go much longer without his length completing you. 

“I love you,” he whines as he rights himself and slaps his cock against your pretty pussy a few times before pushing into you with a gasped “I love you I love you I love you.”

And it might be the raw intimacy speaking on your behalf but you swear you can feel his love through the way he fills you with his cock. You’re two halves of a whole and finally conjoined through overwhelming pleasure… the stretch is uncomfortable, sure, Choso has a length he doesn’t know how to handle, but you don’t care when the way he practically drools once he bottoms out is so desperate. 

And god does it feel good when he starts to move. He’s so eager and desperate that rather than the gentle thrusts he usually makes to test the waters of your comfort, he’s straight into rutting against you like he’s in heat—which, in a way, you guess he is. 

Choso pulls your thighs up between the two of you and works himself into a mean mating press that has him reaching depths inside of you he’s never kissed with the tip of his cock. He can hardly see straight, pussy drunk already and babbling away about how good you feel wrapped around him, how he’s yours, all yours and always yours. 

“All for you,” tears prick at his eyes the closer he comes to his fourth or fifth climax of the day—the sun hasn’t even begun its descent. “My cock is for you, my cum, my heart—I’m all yours I belong to you, please take me, god you take me so good.”

He’s crying. Desperation stains his cheeks as he distracts himself from the hot tears by kissing you with trembling lips as he tries to push impossibly deeper into you. Your legs ache, you’ve never been split open so deep and you’re not sure you’ll ever stop grieving the loss when Choso finally pulls out of you. 

You don’t think you’ve ever cum this fast either, but the moment Choso starts holding his breath and knitting his eyebrows together as he does when he’s about to finish, you feel that wave of dizzying euphoria wash right through you—from head to toe you’re hit with pleasure like waves crashing on the shorelines, and you shake underneath your lust-drunken lover. 

“Oh baby,” he fucks you through it, chases his orgasm so strong it hurts, tightens his balls and makes him wonder how he’s not cumming dry yet. “Feel so good, I’m sorry I know it’s a lot I’m sorry, I love you I love you.”

It’s a blur, but you feel full with his cum and never do you want him to pull out. You think you’re still shaking, but Choso has you fucked so deeply into the mattress that you wouldn’t be able to tell even if you had the energy to care. He’s still twitching inside of you, each minor movement sends static up your spine. You might’ve just seen heaven, you think. 

And with a shaky breath, and pupils so dilated with need he looks high, Choso presses a wet kiss to your lips, pulls back and in as sorry of a tone he can muster:

“Im sorry, baby, I need more.”

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[nanivinsmoke]

❥ Chauffeur .

❥ old!manlogan x fem!reader

summary: mean old logan can’t help but to push the best thing away in his life. and you can’t help but to let go of your worst.

❥ tags: stubbornness, age gap (readers in her late 20s), reader is a mutant, old man logan having a wet dream, car sex, riding, creampies, possibly pregnancy, reader is very rich and established, brat taming, reader’s boyfriend is an ASSHOLE, logan is an asshole but that’s nothing new, etc…

note: we all wanna ride, old man logan. also, stepping away from jjk for a bit. wc: 4.9k

Everyday was the same when you got into the car. There was a smile on your face and you greeted him, even if you didn’t get a response most of the time—you still treated him with kindness. He was your driver after all and you were trusting him with your life.

“45th and Madison, please.” You placed your purse into your lap and buckled up as he pulled off from your house, keeping his eyes on the road.

“How was your night Logan? Get any rest?” You stared at the side of his face, taking in his rugged features. “Good.” Was all he grunted, hands gripping the steering wheel as he navigated the busy streets of New York. You didn’t bother to question him anymore, not wanting to piss him off on this beautiful morning.

The car ride was silent on the way to your company, the only thing that couldn’t be heard was the soft hum of the car and the sound of the air conditioner blowing its cool air. And when he pulled up to your job, you opened your mouth to speak, “thanks, and here—.” you leaned over and handled him an envelope full of money, the scent of cigars and cologne invading your nostrils; making you swoon.

He muttered a thanks and you quickly got out of the car, “I’ll text you what time to pick me up! Later Logan~” You waved and smiled, watching the old man pull off into the nearby traffic—before you entered the double doors to your million dollar company.

You were one of the top businesswomen in the world, employing the most mutants and paying them fairly. You started this company when you were just a teen, not seeing any jobs for mutants when you were growing up—so you decided to make that change. You wanted a safe place for mutants to be able to work in, something like your mentor; Charles Xavier wanted.

You had to do it for your people, especially when the whole world was against you all.

Even though you were a multimillionaire and you owned a license, you didn’t have time to drive yourself around. You hired Logan after a friend recommended him. They praised him for everything that he did for them, he was more than a driver, and when got the chance to meet him in person—you were sold.

You grew very fond of the older man as time passed. He plagued your mind as you worked, his face clouding your thoughts while you were in important meetings—driving you insane. It was clear as day that you had a crush on him, however despite how you felt; you knew he would never think of you like the way you thought of him.

“Will you have dinner with me tonight? Wear that red dress that makes you look like a fucking supermodel?” The voice of your business partner and boyfriend broke you out of your daze, while the two of you ate lunch in the high-end lounge your company acquired.

Eric, was a guy you met at a press conference that supported you when you wanted to have more mutants employed and treated as normal in the world, when the public was against your kind. He was intelligent and an all around amazing person, and when he asked you out one day—the two of you immediately hit it off. You were happy to have him…..but there was something you didn’t like. He would put himself first before you.

He did this a couple of times, putting him and his buddies before you; and you called him out on it—but he always apologized and told you it wouldn’t happen again. Liar.

“Will it just be us this time? Last time it was me and your frat brothers. And I hate that night, you left me all alone.” You pouted and he chuckled before leaning over to kiss your lips. “It’ll just be us this time, I promi—hold that thought,” his phone started to ring and he quickly pulled it out; talking to whoever was on the other end. You sighed and continued munching on your food, before you headed back to your office; alone.

Logan was already outside of your office when you finally exited your company’s building. You hopped into the truck and he pulled off once you buckled up, heading into the direction of your house. “How was your day Logan?” You looked at him through the mirror, studying those hazel eyes of his, which connected onto yours as he answered you.

“Good.” You smiled and relaxed into your seat, enjoying the ride back home. “Oh, Eric’s and I are going out to eat. You can come inside while I get ready, it shouldn’t take long.” You beamed and he tensed up in his seat. You couldn��t see it, but Logan rolled his eyes and gripped the steering wheel at the mention of your boyfriend. He wasn’t fond of him, thought the guy was an asshole from the moment he met him. He felt like you deserved better, he knew you did.

But, who was he to judge? He was no saint himself.

After he pulled up to your house and the two of you entered, you were immediately greeted by your calico—Persia. She purred and rubbed against your leg before she spotted the tall man a few steps behind you. The cat inched over to him and sniffed his pants leg, before she rubbed herself against him; purring once more. Logan grunted and you smiled, reaching down to rub the soft furred animal, “she’s never don’t that before, she usually hisses at strangers. she must really like you.”

As you stepped deeper into your house, putting down your things and slowly stripping out of your work clothes, before turning to the grumpy old man standing at your front door, “He wants me to meet him there. I’m going to get ready, in the meantime are you hungry? Food’s in the fridge.”

“I’m good.” His voice was gruff and his face was blank, when he connected eyes with you, moving away from your cat. You unbuttoned the last black button to your matching button up, leaving you in your deep green matching underwear set—causing him to look away. “I have a huge liquor cabinet, help yourself.”

He watched as you ascended up the stairs before shaking his head and entering your kitchen. He admired your boldness, comfortable enough to undress in front of him, but he felt like he didn’t deserve to see you like that. No one did. Especially that fucked face motherfucka, Eric.

Logan took a look at your cabinet, impressed with your collection of wines, cognacs and other strong liquids; but he was more impressed to see this thirty year aged whiskey you had. Hibiki Whiskey, his favorite. He smiled to himself and grabbed it along with a glass, pouring a nice bit into it; before downing it—the smoothness flowing down his throat beautifully.

He sat on your couch, sipping on the dark liquor, while taking a look around your house. He found comfort in the decor, your home felt….safe. Something he hadn’t felt in ages. It was so safe that he couldn’t help but drift off into sleep, something he hardly did lately.

He must’ve been sleeping for a while, deep into his dream; this one a little different from the one’s he usually had about you.. You had frequented his dream world on occasion when he did sleep. Your warm smile was something he saw on a daily basis; when you were cooking for him or sometimes the two of you appeared in a field of flowers—your smile overshadowed the sun. But, this one was a lot different. You were on top, riding him.

Everything felt and looked so realistic. The same emerald green set you wore was glued to your body. The panties were pulled to the side, your essence sticking to them and his cock; while you bounced. Your body looked so beautiful and he knew he shouldn’t be dreaming about you like this, but he couldn’t help himself—especially when you turned around; face contorted in sheer arousal. And then he lost it, when you opened up your mouth and moaned his name.

“Logan~” fuck, he could feel you clench down on him, as you brought your ass down on him again—moaning his name once more. But this time you were louder, repeating his name over and over again; his tired hazel eyes shooting open, staring at your own. You were standing in front of him, wearing a beautiful ruby red dress; which clung to your body and accentuated your curves, smiling at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. But, I need your help zipping up my dress—please~.” He nodded, shifting in his spot to hide the boner that was poking through his black corduroy pants—reaching over to help zip you up. His rough fingers melted into your soft skin, as he held his hand on your upper back for support; his mind going right back to his dream. Fuck, he was going to hell for dreaming about you like that.

You looked beautiful, standing a little taller than usual—thanks to your gold heels that matched your jewelry. You decided to curl your natural hair, which framed your soft made-up face. He could stare at you all day.

“Thanks. I’m ready to go!” And there you go with that smile, that slowly melted his cold heart.

You waited outside of the restaurant in the car, waiting for Eric to show up. It had been ten minutes since you arrived and he still wasn’t there, wasn’t answering his phone either. Your gut told you to leave, but you couldn’t bring yourself to it—you were hoping he would show up. So, to get your mind off of him, you sparked a conversation up with Logan.

“Hey Logan, tell me about yourself. What do you do besides driving?” He clenched his teeth and kept a grip on the car’s steering wheel.

“Nothing.”

“Really? I heard you were a bodyguard and a hitman. What was that—“ He turned around and glared at you, cutting you off as he spoke. “Listen. I’m not one of your fucking girlfriends you sit and gossip with. Got it?” His voice was deep and scary, while his eyes told a different story. However, you nodded and looked away, blinking back the tears that wanted to leave your own.

Then, your phone rang and you immediately answered. On the other end of the line was Eric, apologizing about not showing up and begging for the two of you to reschedule. You swallowed the lump in your throat and told him that it was alright, saying you were tired anyways; before hanging up and slumping into your seat. “Take me home.” Was all that you could muster up to say, before a stream of tears cascaded down your face—ruining your makeup.

The car ride was silent, besides the sounds of your sobs—which slowly broke the old man. He kept glancing at you through the mirror, feeling like a dick because he played a part in your sadness too. But, an apart of him felt angry, he wanted to kick Eric’s ass for standing you up. How could he not see what was right in front of him?

As the car halted in front of your house, you immediately got out, slamming the door behind you before you sped walked to the front door—not looking back—too embarrassed to speak to him. And one he saw that you were safely inside, he drove off and headed into the direction of the nearby bar—ready to drink the night away.

This was one of the worst nights ever and neither of you would forget it.

The following days were like a blur for you. You hadn’t been to work for a week, taking some time off to try and understand your mental.

That day played in your mind over and over, you were hurt twice that night. But, the look on Logan’s face haunted you. You could tell there was more behind those eyes, besides all that anger, something else laid behind them—and you wanted to know more. No matter how much he tried to push you away.

Currently, you were sitting on your couch with Persia by your side, eating ice cream and watching whatever was on tv—ignoring the spam calls from Eric; when you were startled by a loud pound on your front door. You looked at the door then at Persia, fists clenched as your powers started to surge; before you started to creep towards the door. You swung it open, ready to pummel whoever was on the other side, until you saw who was standing on your porch.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped, looking at the older man who was covered in blood and holding onto his arm. “Logan! What the hell happened?” You asked, helping him into your home and shutting the door afterwards—to hide him from any nosey neighbors; before you ushered him into your downstairs bathroom. He sat down on the toilet with a clang, before he started to remove his clothes; with your help.

“Whose blood is this?” You asked, putting his bloody beater into the hammer behind you before inspecting his scarred face. “Most of it was someone else’s. Don’t worry, I’ll heal.” He moved away from your touch, but you immediately pulled him back; your eyes piercing him.

“I know, but until your healing factor kicks in, im gonna help. And i'm not asking.” He chuckled and nodded his head, before you used your powers on him—stopping the blood from leaking out until his own power’s kicked in. One of his thick eyebrows raised in confusion, before you answered him.

“Blood manipulation. Now let’s put that shoulder back in place. Here, bite down on this.” You handed him a washcloth, but he declined.

“Just do it, princess. I can take it.” He reassured and you stared at him for a moment, before whispering an ‘okay’. Without warning, you gripped his arm and pushed it back into his socket, making him yell out in pain—his claws unsheathing in the process.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You apologized, making him shake his head in response. His claws retracted and he pulled you in by your waist—his body heat warming you as you stood next to him. His hazel eyes searched all over your face, lingering on your plump lips before backing up to your soft irises, “need a drink, right now.”

The two of you sat in your kitchen, sharing a bottle of ten year old cognac, while Logan shared stories about what he did—answering your question from last week. “I also take care of Charles….Charles Xavier.” You swallowed the smooth liquor, before responding.

“Oh, I knew that already.” He raised an eyebrow and you giggled, continuing. “He accidentally called on your phone, thinking I was Taco Bell, until I spoke with him. He’s a funny guy, I’ve always imagined he was……I was a big fan of his when I was younger.” There was some silence, as he thought about the Professor and his current state.

You got up from your spot and put your glass in the sink, done drinking for night, before going into the fridge for a snack—until his deep voice made you stop moving. “Look, princess….about the other night—“

“It’s fine. No need to apologize.”

“No, but I need to. I was a jerk and you just wanted to get to know me. So, I'm sorry.” He was now standing in front of you, towering over you, still shirtless from earlier. Your eyes trailed over his hairy, toned abs, before you looked up at his beautiful rugged face—pressing your thighs together as you felt that familiar pulsing between your legs. You nodded and turned on your heels to leave, but his rough hands pulled you back; making you stumble, before he caught you.

“What happened to you and what’s his face?” He spoke and you snorted, rolling your eyes at the thought of Eric. “He’s an asshole, who likes to waste my time.“

Logan clenched his teeth, feeling himself get upset at the mere thought of him mistreating you. “Dick can’t see what the hell he has right in front of him?” You blushed, and bit your bottom lip, your smaller hands reaching up to toy with his platinum dog tags. “Neither can you.”

He froze and you stopped moving, eyes slowly looking up at his, until he leaned down and pulled you in a wet, sloppy kiss. His hands immediately went down to your ass, squeezing the soft fat through your tiny black shorts; something he thought doing for a while now. You squealed when he picked you up and placed you onto the countertop behind you, never breaking his lips from yours. Despite being an old man, he still had the same strength he did when he was younger.

He kissed down from your lips to your chest that was hidden behind your hot pink beater, nipples standing at attention. He circled the imprint of them with his tongue, making you moan out, before he made his way down to your clothed cunt; your arousal plaguing his nose.

“Knew you wanted this since earlier, could smell her calling out for me~” He swiped his tongue over your clothed slit, slick already staining the dark fabric. He pulled the shorts down with ease, hazel eyes growing darker as he was met face to face with your bare cunt; your essence making your puffy lips glisten.

“Shit.” He cursed, loving the sight of your pretty pussy dripping just for him, he couldn’t help but to dive in and enjoy the meal you had set right in front of him. The sensation of his beard and his tongue rubbing against you, made you moan out; back arching off of the counter and your hands tugging on his salt n pepper colored hair—grinding against his face.

He worked wonders on your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud, forcing more and more of your sweet translucent arousal from your aching hole; building up your orgasm. Logan spat against your soaked cunt, using his fingers to rub it all over soft lips; before pushing a thick finger into your hole—making you yell out a series of curse words.

“Gonna cum—f-fuck! Just like that Logan!” He continued to lap up your juice and pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them—making them punch your spot over and over; making you gush all over him. The grip you had on his hair was tight as you came, but he ignored it and continued to draw out your orgasm; before pulling away and pressing his wet lips against yours.

The kiss was sloppy, filled with nothing but hunger as you licked every inch of his wet face, tasting yourself; a low hum leaving his lips. And as your hand reached down to feel the bulge in his pants, he pulled away—making you whimper. But, when he backed further away and wouldn’t look at you, you noticed something was wrong.

“Logan?” You started, slipping off the counter, legs wobbling as you stood and walked over to him; only for him to back away once more.

“Gotta go. This was a mistake.” And before you could protest, he made a beeline to your front door, opening it and shutting it behind him; not bothering to grab his shirt or turning to look at you.

What the actual fuck?

You returned back to work the following day. Logan dropped you off of course, but he barely acknowledged you—evident he didn’t want to talk about what happened yesterday. But, you needed to talk about it, wondering what made him stop. Surely he didn’t think you would just be alright with him eating your pussy and making you cum, and not feel something about him?

However, you would deal with the grumpy old man later. Today, you had to face the asshole of the year, Eric. You left the car with a simple ‘bye’ to Logan, before taking the elevator ride up to your office’s floor, trying to push yesterday’s events out of your mind.

Your baby blue heels clicked on the wooden floor as you sashayed down the walk way, making heads turn and people cheer; excited for your return. However as you approached your office, you were stopped by your assistant, who had a look of worry on their face.

“What’s the matter?” You questioned, looking at your office before going back to your assistant. They gulped and prepared themselves to tell you what lies in your office.

“Mr. Eric’s in there...and he’s not alone. He’s with another—“ you cut them off and storm past them, opening the wooden door, eyes glued to the horrific sight in front of you. Your boyfriend was balls deep into your new intern, having her bent over your crisp white desk.

The sound of the door slamming shut startled them and the girl screamed, scrambling to pull her skirt down, while apologizing to you frantically. You held up your finger and shushed her, motioning to the door so she could leave. And once she did, you immediately sauntered over to the guilty male—body temperature increasing by the second.

“How long?” You questioned, your tone flat and emotionless. He stuttered, but then he looked down and looked back up—a devious smirk on his face.

“A good couple of months now. Why’d you think i pushed for you to hire her? What, did you think I’d actually love someone like you?” He chuckled, circling around you, while you raised an eyebrow. “And what does that mean? Someone like me?”

“Your kind! A fucking mutant! I’ve been using you from the beginning, I just wanted to get my hands on this company—have you mutants under my control. Starting with you—“ You set him flying back with a punch to his cheek, making him fly through the door; knocking it down.

All you saw was red as you marched over to him, your employees shocked at what was going down, but none of them dared to step in. “This….this is what I expected from you people! Pure chaos and violence.” He smirked, blood pooling from his mouth as he spewed his hate.

Using your powers, you were able to make more blood flow out of him; making a wound in his lung—which caused him to cough up some more blood. And as you raised your fist to punch him once more, your wrist was caught—stopping your movements. You turned to see Logan, his hazel eyes begging for you to stop.

He smelled danger when he was on his way up to your office, since you had forgotten your phone in the car he wanted to bring it to you. Only to be met with you about to kill a man.

“He’s had enough. Let him go.” You knew better than to protest, so you used your powers to close the internal wound on Eric; calming yourself down as Logan pulled you back into his arms. “Get him out of here, he’s fired!”

You were fuming in the car. Angry was an understatement, you were pissed. You were humiliated. You were hurt. Logan couldn’t stop checking on you through the rear view mirror, until he decided to pull over to the side of the road—putting the car in park. He hopped out of the car and opened up your side door, nodding for you to get out.

“Logan—what are you—“

“Let it out. It helps to let everything out.” You squinted and chuckled. How ironic of him to try and help you not keep things bottled inside.

“You can’t be fucking serious! You of all people, trying to give advice on their feelings? You’re the fucking king of keeping things in!” You stepped closer to him, but he didn’t budge, letting you get it all out of your system.

“You pushed me away from the beginning! Then you come in my fucking house like a wounded dog and then on top of it all—you made me have the best orgasm of my life and let me fall in love with you! Who does that!” Hot tears rolled down your pretty face, while you poked into his broad chest with each word.

You were right. He did push you away. He couldn’t open his heart, his stubbornness would allow him. But, he couldn’t let his past haunt his future, not anymore. So, he decided right then and there to finally open up and let you in.

Logan pulled you in close, the smell of his cologne and the cigar he smoked earlier was soothing; it warmed you—which made it easier for you to accept his kiss. All of that anger washed over you while your tongues danced with one another. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck; while gripping your hips and picking you up—making his way over to the car and placing you in the seats, laying you on your back.

He wasted no time and tugged off your clothes, your grey dress falling to the floor; along with your panties and bra. He stepped back, taking a moment to bask in your glory. You were beautiful and he was going to cherish this moment forever.

His slacks dropped to his ankles and you watched with lidded eyes as he pulled his cock out, making them widen. “Knew you were huge~” you said, your slick pooled and dribbled down your crack, making the black leather seats glisten underneath you.

Logan grabbed his girth, rubbing against your swollen clit; eliciting moans from your sweet lips—coating himself in your fluids. Angling himself at your entrance, he pushed himself in; stretching you as he eased himself in.

“Good—…..girl. That’s it, princess—take all of it” He grunted, praising you as you were able to take all of him in one go. You winced, his tip pressing into your cervix, making you inch away from him—only to be pulled back in. He wanted you to sit there and take it. He was going to give you exactly what you wanted. Some dick.

He held your hips, your legs wrapped around his waist, as he began to move inside of you—his strokes were deep and powerful; making your eyes roll back and your lids flutter. The more he moved, the more you grew aroused—making you a moaning mess while he fucked the shit out of you.

You clung to him with each stroke, making the older male grunt. Your tits bounced and clashed against each other as the two of you moved, hypnotizing Logan. He leaned down and plopped one of them into his mouth, sucking on your nipples like it was a peppermint. You moaned out, hands clawing at the back of the seat right next to you—pleasure too intense for you.

He was fucking you so good, splitting your pussy open with each movement; orgasm rising inside of you. “Please! Logan, I'm gonna cum! Wait—slow down—fuck!” He ignored your pleas, his pace increasing by the second. Who knew that this old man could have that much stamina?

Continuing to make a mess out of your pussy, he continued to rub against your g-spot—making your orgasm course through you. You clung to him and clenched around him sporadically, creaming all over him. He growled, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him—but you pulled out, causing him to groan.

“Sit. Wanna ride you.”

His hands clung to your waist, helping you bounce on his dick—filling you up completely. You gripped his shoulder for support, as the car rocked with your movements. The sound of your pussy and the clapping of your ass against him, made him feral and he couldn’t help but to grip your ass—hard, pushing you further down on him.

“Fuck, princess. Where do you want it?”

“Inside! Deep inside of me.” You didn’t care what would come afterwards. You just didn’t want him to stop fucking you. Logan pressed another kiss to your lips, rough hands smacking your ass as you moved wildly—walls getting ready to milk him dry. And with a few more hard bounces, he spurted deep inside of you, inner walls being painted a nice shade of white.

Rocking your hips against him, another orgasm made your body shake; cheeks jiggling against him as you came—moaning his name repeatedly.

The two of you stayed like that, his cock softening inside of you, while he continued to bottom out—before he pulled out, tip hitting your ass. You kissed him once more, content with how the night ended; finally with the man you deserved to be with.

“I love you….promise to not push me away?”

He smiled, the first time you saw it on his face, and nodded.

“I love you too.”

[luveline]

oooh what about hotch's sister calling spencer to pick her up at the hospital after an accident or something because she doesn't want hotch to know since worry and go into protective big brother mode, but spencer tells him anyway and they both show up and lots of fluff ensues :)

adopted fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for panic attacks

You should call your brother. 

You think about it, even pull up his contact, he’s the first person you go to when you need help and he always has been, but lately Aaron has been so stressed you hesitate, clicking the text button by mistake. 

You read back his last message. 

I can feel myself being spread too thin but there’s nothing I can do to fix it, he’d text. I guess I’m frustrated. But how are you, working girl? New jobs are scary. I bet you’re doing better than you think already. Jack and I are super proud of you

You’d sent him a meagre response. You aren’t always sure what to say to him. Sincerity is easier in person, but even then, he can be terse and deflective; he looks after you and no one looks after him. 

You didn’t tell him about work, and you won’t tell him about now. You call Spencer instead. This is a good way to test the almost dating thing, right? 

He doesn’t answer. When you call again, he answers on the first ring. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“No. Are you busy?” 

“I’m not busy if you’re not okay. Two seconds.” There’s a pause where you assume he’s moving from one place to another, perhaps closing a book around his hand, or closing the lid on an early lunch. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m, uh, in hospital. I had a huge panic attack at work and I… thought I was having a heart attack, so I–” You’re so embarrassed your voice turns to a thread. “Sorry, I know it’s so stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid, that’s not stupid. How do you feel now?” 

“Like someone hit me really hard in the chest.” 

“Are you calmed down?” 

“Mostly.” You wince. “They want to talk to me about medications. Uh.” You clear your throat. “I want to go home.” 

“Angel… I’m on my way, okay? I’ll get Hotch and–”

“You can’t tell him.” 

“What?” 

“Please, Spencer, he gets so worried, he’s worried enough. And if he finds out I had a panic attack he’ll try and make me take time off of work and that’s just another thing on his plate he didn’t ask for–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, “please don’t panic. You’ve had a hard morning, panicking again is really gonna hurt. Try and think about things that don’t wind you up, alright? Is there anything you need me to get?” 

“You don’t have to come.” 

“That’s why you called me, right? I’ll be there.” 

You can’t know that he says goodbye and ducks straight back into Hotch’s office, where he’d been, to tell on you. It’s not to hurt you and it isn’t because you told him not to —it’s two parts concern, and one part self preservation. Aaron needs to know and you need him with you, and he also can’t imagine things going well for himself if he kept the news of your stay a secret. The shovel talk plays in his mind. 

Aaron’s shovel talk being, You won’t do anything to hurt her, said simply, and with an impassive expression that bordered terrifying. Not overly unaffected, just casual. 

You’re laying in your hospital bed with your hands clasped across your stomach when Spencer arrives. He frowns at you in your bed, worse when he sees your smudged makeup and the chafed inside of your wrist where you’ve picked and squeezed at your own skin. Your panic has left a physical mark, your chest aching as you force yourself to sit, and it hurts doubly so when your brother lets himself in behind your nearly-boyfriend.

You don’t have it in you to complain. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says, reaching down to give you a quick hug as you sit. “I had to tell him.” 

 Aaron’s hug is similarly apologetic, though much longer. “You weren’t gonna tell me?” he asks quietly, his hand settling at the place between your shoulders. “How do you feel now?” 

“I’m fine, I– I really thought I was having a heart attack.” 

“That’s common,” Spencer says, “it’s the feeling of impending doom, thousands of people mistake anxiety for medical issues every week.” 

Aaron holds you by the shoulders. “It’s okay,” he says. “Was it a doctor that checked you out, or a nurse?” 

Aaron probes the name of your nurse from you and promises to be back soon. He seems to have gleaned that the quickest way to get information today won’t be from you. 

Spencer goes in for another hug when he leaves, and then, to your delight, a very quick kiss pressed to your cheek. He ducks away after that and sits on the side of your hospital bed, his knuckles gracing the outside of your thigh. “Thank you for calling me,” he says, smiling at you, and better when you smile back.

“Thanks for coming.” 

“Of course. I know how it feels, okay? If they want to talk about medication it’s a good thing, but everyone has moments like this.” 

“I can’t believe you told Aaron,” you say, giving a weak but playful glare.

“I can’t believe you weren’t going to. He loves you, he wants to know what’s hurting you, no matter how much stuff is on his plate.” 

You bite the inside of your lip, contemplative for a few slow seconds. “You think so?” you ask finally. 

The hair flicked under his ears wobbles as he nods. “Absolutely.” 

You lean forward to readjust his collar and tie. He’s wearing one of his cutesy waistcoats, dark grey over a light blue shirt. His tie has patterns you trace with your thumb, like fish scales. “Sorry, I know you were working,” you murmur. 

“I think my boss will forgive me.” 

You let your hands fall. Spencer, perhaps picking up on a hint you hadn’t meant to give, takes them both into one of his and squeezes reassuringly. 

“It’s harder than I thought,” you confide softly. 

“It’s an adjustment period. But maybe it’s not right for you, there. That’s what started it, right? Your job.” 

“I’m not sure. I don’t know. I get panicky about all sorts of stuff, but I’ve never had one this bad before. I was a miserable kid, you can ask Aaron, but I really thought I was better.” 

He rubs over your fingers with his thumb. “I think we all have stuff that messes us up. Doesn’t mean you’re not better. You don’t even really have to be better. And I… I am here for you, I promise. I know you have no reason to trust me with it yet, but I’ll listen whenever you need me to.” 

You think about kissing him. Spencer kisses like he’s suffocating and your air, it’s cliche and undeniably true. Whenever you kiss him it’s like a shock —he steals your breath, he can’t stop himself from grabbing your face, and any other time you’d love it, but right now you just need a peck. You’re hoping he can do those kinds of kisses too. 

“Will you kiss me?” you ask tentatively.

He gets the memo on gentleness. You shouldn’t be surprised, your very first kiss was tame, his hand running up your arm as he encourages you forward. Your eyes shutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours, and the exhausting thrumming that’s lived beneath your skin since you woke up numbs to a more manageable ache. 

Spencer breaks away. He cups your cheek quickly, dropping it immediately when the door opens. 

You shuffle backward nonchalantly. 

Aaron gives you a sarcastic look. Really? it says. I wasn't born yesterday. 

“They want to give you a prescription for Paxil, honey, what do you think?” He turns his attention to Spencer reluctantly. “What’s her best option here?” 

“Paxil could be fine. They didn’t suggest a benzodiazepine? Paxil is an SSRIs, it slows down the rate of serotonin reuptake, basically increasing the effectiveness of your bodies natural serotonin, which could decrease the risk of another attack, but taking it won’t stop her from feeling like this,” —he frowns at your location— “very quickly. Ideally she should have a medication for general anxiety and the option for quicker relief if this happens again.” He smiles at you suddenly, nearly shyly. “If that’s what you want, that is.” 

“What are you thinking, honey?” Aaron asks you. 

You have the two of them here to look after you while you decide. You take Spencer’s hand gently, desperate for reassurance. “I’m not sure.” 

“It’s okay, we’ll work it out,” your brother promises. 

Spencer squeezes your hand. 

[rileyslibrary]

It’s lunchtime at the military base, and you can’t decide what to eat. Ghost is getting hangry.

———————————————————————

“It’s a simple question,” he says. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know, Lieutenant.”

“Are you hungry?” He asks and lifts his hands.

“Yes, sir.”

“What exactly are you hungry for?”

“I-I don’t know.”

He drops his arms to his sides and sits at the corner of his desk. He touches the back of his neck with one hand while supporting himself with the other.

“Every fucking day, you do this to me,” he murmurs. “If you don’t decide this time, I’ll go eat alone.”

“Oh! Is that so?” You squint and hunch forward at your desk.

“Yes!” He yells as he stands up and walks towards you. “Yes, I will. In fact, I would love to.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and your jaw drops. How dare he? You’d been teammates for years, sticking with him through thick and thin, never betraying him once. But now he...

“...Would love to?!”

“That’s right!” He snaps and slams his hands against your desk. “So, for the last time: What. Will. It. Be?”

You lean back in your chair and bite your pen while considering your options. Ghost’s gaze darts from you to the pen, then back. He groans and grabs the pen from your hand, tossing it to the side.

“Pens are off the menu today,” he declares, snapping his fingers, “I need an answer. Now.”

Dumfounded, you stare at the pen on the floor. If someone else had done this to you, you would have slapped them in the face. Worse, if he had watched anyone else treat you that way, he would have ripped their limbs off their body.

But he’s hangry. As insignificant as this conversation appears, he doesn’t handle his hunger with the same poise he handles other, more complex situations. Not only that, but your indecisiveness doesn’t help, either. You need to make a decision quickly, so you sit up straight and place your hands on the table.

“What are my options again?” you ask.

“Pizza or burger.” He replies sternly.

“I don’t want piz—”

“Burger it is, then,” he says with a nod. He knocks his knuckles twice on the desk and strides towards the office door.

“W-wait, Ghost, wait!”

He sighs and leans against the door, his hand on the handle.

“I don’t like the base’s burgers.” You mumble.

“Nobody likes the base’s burgers!” he yells. “But we still eat them!”

“I was wondering,” you say and lower your voice, “if there is another choice?”

He’s softly bashing his head against the door, and you try to persuade him that there should be a third option—a vegetarian meal, perhaps. In response, he begins making whimpering noises. He’s the one getting on your nerves now.

“You know what?” you snap, “I’ll go check by myself.”

He extends a hand in your direction and shows you his palm.

“No, no, no, no!” he cries. “You join the others in the queue, and the entire base will starve until you decide!”

You scoff at his sarcasm, and he opens the door.

“Listen,” he says, “I’ll go check and call you, okay?”

“LIEUTENANT!” you shout, but he slams the door behind him. You peek over at his desk. “You forgot your phone...” you murmur to yourself.

The lieutenant was a very cold man when you first met him. His responses were limited to yeses and nos with the occasional shrug, and he never joined you in everyday job activities, especially at lunchtime. You’d always eat alone in the mess hall, and if your breaks coincided with that of Gaz or Soap’s, you’d sit with them and eat lunch together. Ghost would normally sit in the office or hide in a corner around the base and eat since he didn’t want anyone to see him without his mask. But slowly, he came to trust you all with his face, and you’d eat together, locked in your office.

You look at the time. Given his hunger when he left, he should have returned five minutes ago. What if he gave up on you and is already eating with the rest? Sure, your indecisiveness annoys him, especially since he has to deal with it daily, but he’d never let you eat alone, right? On the other hand... he may be trying to teach you a lesson.

You take another glance at the time. This doesn’t feel right. You start cleaning up your desk to head for the kitchen, but someone knocks on the door.

“It’s open,” you announce, “come on in!”

“I’ve got my hands full.” You hear Ghost reply.

You walk up to the door and swing it open. Ghost stands there with a serving trolley full of dishes.

“Thanks,” he murmurs while he pushes the trolley inside the office.

“You forgot your phone!” you inform him.

“I didn’t forget it,” he says as he stops the trolley in front of your desk. “I’d rather put my bare hand in a fire and let it simmer than add a third option to your dilemma and let you decide while there’s a queue of starving soldiers behind me.”

He removes the plates from the trolley and arranges them on your desk. “Here’s the fucking pizza, the fucking shitburger, and the tofu version of the shitburger.”

He places another plate with five pizza slices on his desk. He removes his mask and immediately slaps a piece in his mouth.

“That’s a lot of food, Lt.,” you whisper, scanning the plates before you.

He turns his head towards you and keeps chewing. “Yeah,” he says, swallowing, “better have all the options in front of you than squeeze any reserve of patience I have left.”

You take a slice of pizza from your tray and bite into it.

He stares at you, raises his plate to the sky, and rambles about how “you didn’t want pizza before.” You clarify that, while you still don’t want pizza, it appears to be the best option among the three.

“However,” you continue, “I would murder for a good burger.”

He swallows and takes a second pizza slice from his plate.

“I know a place,” he explains. “We can go tonight.”

“Lieutenant, you smooth operator!” you tease, “like on a date?”

He nods and takes another mouthful. He doesn’t even bother looking at you. He’s too preoccupied with nourishing his massive body to worry about your mocking.

“What kind of a place is it?” You ask.

“It’s a shithole,” he says, “but it does the best burgers you’ve ever had.”

“So, what should I wear?”

He stops eating and aggressively shakes his head.

“Nuh-uh,” he says. “I won’t get involved in your woes again—I’ll give you the address, and you’ll be there at 8 p.m.”

“Are you going to email me the menu so I can decide what to eat ahead of time?”

He swallows and looks at you. “I wouldn’t worry about that,” he says, taking another bite.

“Why?”

“Because there’s no menu at my place.”

———————————————————————

[prettyinsophie]

Being Ms. Maximoff’s favorite pet…

2k words

college student! reader x college teacher! Wanda

warnings: mommy kink, fingering in a classroom, small use of y/n, squirting, age difference (duh), use of bunny/doll/etc. anddd it’s kinda trash tbh.

I’ve had this WIP for over a year so it was time for me to just finish it💀 buuuut I’m working on two Sevika different ones if y’all were wondering.

“Please don’t forget to go over the next session’s material. Remember we’re getting close to finals, but as for now you’re dismissed, have a good weekend.” Ms. Maximoff says and almost simultaneously everyone stands from their seats and heads out, some saying goodbye and others annoyed at the reminder of the upcoming stress of final exams.

“Hey, y/n. The girls and I are going to call it a day and grab lunch, wanna come?” With a bright smile, Kate offers, and you can feel another pair of eyes glancing at you.

“I’m sorry Kate, I actually have to stay for the next class, but you all have fun!” You reject the offer apologetically and the girl playfully rolls her eyes at you.

“I swear no one can crack you, promise you’ll join us next time.”

“Okay, I promise,” You smile back and watch her gather her things.

“Bye, enjoy yourself I guess.”

“Y-yeah, bye!”

Kate walks out of the room and the door loudly makes a “click” when it closes, bringing silence into the atmosphere. You look at Wanda and immediately gulp when she smirks at you with her head slightly tilted. She stands and walks to your seat, placing her hands on the desk. She leans down while looking down at you.

“Well, what do we have here? Didn’t you just say you have a class to attend, Ms. y/ln?” The woman asks in her low and smooth voice, and all you can do is stare blankly at her with your wide eyes.

“I-” You squeak and clear your throat, “I lied, I wanted to be with you alone, Ms. Maximoff.”

Wanda brings her hand to your face, softly brushing her fingers against your cheek, and laughs sweetly at your response.

“My darling, of course you did. Today you were so good…paying attention to the class and participating, even ignoring whenever Kate tried to talk to you when I was in the middle of the lecture.” She praises and your breath hitches, “That girl, always trying to get you to skip my class like you’re still in high school, but you never let her convince you. No. Because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

The way she intensely yet adorably looks at you for the only answer there is to that question makes your knees go weak, and you can feel your face starting to heat up.

“Yes, I am.” You breathe out.

Wanda sits next to you and starts petting your head and running her fingers through your soft hair, making you close your eyes and huff through your nose at the relaxing feeling.

“I can tell when my bunny wants attention, the way you stared at me the whole class like you wanted me to notice your obedient behavior and the little smiles when your answers were right. Good girls deserve a treat, don’t they?”

You hum, almost coming out as a moan and you get closer to her, nearly falling off your chair. Then you feel another hand on your knee and you open your eyes in surprise, but you knew what you were doing when you decided to wear that mini skirt. You simply loved to play dumb and innocent for her.

“My beautiful doll, always looking pretty for me,” She purrs while groping your thigh, traveling higher, “You have absolutely no idea how hard it is to have you in front of me, watching me with those big eyes of yours while biting your pen and not being able to do anything about it.”

Her hand finds its way under your skirt and traces the front of your lace panties, rubbing your clit with her thumb and you gulp down a moan and squirm under her.

“Hm, someone likes it there?”

“M-more...” You gasp, feeling her thumb pressing your sensitive button.

“Ah, ah,” Wanda shakes her head and grabs your jaw with her free hand, making you face her, and you stop breathing for a moment. She’s so close to you that your lips are about to brush. “Is that how you should talk to your mommy, sweetheart?”

Even if you wanted to shake your head, you couldn’t, so there’s no other option but to answer out loud.

“N-no, mommy. ‘M sorry.” You whisper, and your cheeks turn a pinkish color.

Wanda’s stern expression turns into a smirk, and your soft skin gets attacked by unwelcomed goosebumps. That smirk means she already has in mind what she wants to do to you, and your thighs rub together in anticipation of what that would be. The grip on your jaw softens, and the older woman leans in and kisses you. You close your eyes and hum at the familiar feeling of her soft lips on yours. It’s already flustering enough whenever Wanda touches or kisses you, but right now, being in the classroom makes it a hundred times more agitating for you. You love it though.

You tilt your head to the side and slightly open your mouth, giving her the perfect opportunity to slip her tongue past your lips, your thighs glued against each other, looking for something else while Wanda tastes you. The kiss is heated yet delicate, devouring you without having to make it disgustingly messy.

When she breaks the kiss you open your eyes and see her lips mildly smudged in your cherry lipgloss. All you can think is how hot she looks with anything red.

“Now, what is it that you need, baby?” She asks softly with a raspy voice.

“You.” You whimper without hesitating, “I need you, mommy, so bad.”

Wanda smiles and voices an almost inaudible “aww.”

“You have to be quiet, bunny. You understand, right?”

You nod your head desperately and she spreads your legs carefully. Your heartbeat thuds loudly in your ears, and it’s even pronounced against your throat. Her thumb traces your clit again, but this time you shift uncomfortably in the chair at the wetness in your panties, the finger travels down your pussy, the lace feeling sticky and you whine.

“My needy princess, all wet already, and I haven’t even started yet.” She whispers in your ear as she starts slowly massaging your clit, gaining a soft gasp from you.

She applies the right amount of pressure down your sensitive button, giving you just enough attention to keep you satisfied for now. You gulp, your chest beginning to heave as you struggle to keep quiet.

Wanda’s free hand finds your pouty lips, parting them with her thumb, and just as she does that, a small but clear whimper escapes your throat.

“Fine, guess I have to help you keep quiet,”

The redhead groans softly before forcing two fingers into your mouth, causing you to whine uncomfortably at first, which only makes her chuckle cruelly.

“C’mon sweetheart, you suck mommy’s cock just fine, you can handle my fingers.” She purrs with a taunting grin across her face. Her brows raised as if asking you for confirmation.

Your wide eyes look at her and you hum around her fingers, slowly but surely sucking on them with your addictive lips wrapped around Wanda’s long digits.

“That’s a good girl.” She softly encourages you, almost grunting because of your pretty mouth and the warmth of your tongue. Her eyes are fixated on your expression as she thrusts her fingers in and out of your mouth, focusing on the way your brows meet and shape your pretty face with an almost helpless look, fueling her most deprived desires. “Yeah…just like that.” She growls softly, thrusting deeper and harsher, causing you to whimper.

Wanda absolutely goes feral about how you don’t have a gag reflex. And she makes sure to take advantage of it whenever she can.

She tugs at the thin band of your panties, sliding them down until your aching cunt is free from the suffocating lace. A small groan escapes you when you feel a string of arousal connecting your pussy to the soaked material until it breaks from Wanda’s harsh tug. Count yourself lucky she didn’t rip them off.

Wanda gets her fingers out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’ and guides them to your dripping pussy, gently running them up and down, causing you to bite your lip in avoidance of any moans or whimpers.

“Tell me what you want, bunny.” She orders you gently, her lips hovering yours as she purposefully blows on them while her fingers coat your vulva with your wetness.

With a small gulp and bobbing on your throat, your eyes find hers in a pleading stare. The door isn’t even locked, and anyone could walk in. Your heartbeat tries to warn you relentlessly about it.

And yet, you still find yourself begging. “I want you to fill me up, mommy.”

It’s extremely deranged to be doing this in the place she works and you study at, especially with how you love to address her in the bedroom, but Wanda fucking loves it. She loves how you’re not as innocent as you portray yourself to be, and it’s all hers to see. In fact, you have such a strong effect on her that she’s subtly shifting on the chair, attempting to find friction between her own aching cunt and the thick material of her trousers.

The redhead smiles proudly at your obedience, planting a small but sweet kiss on your nose that has your brain melting, and she doesn’t waste a second before slowly sliding her fingers inside your pussy. Your walls are so warm that even a quiet but notorious whimper from her hits your ears, and you almost mirror it before she clashes your lips together in an almost needy kiss.

All you can think of is her; your hot mess of a teacher beginning to thrust her slender but long digits deeper and deeper as she tries to eat you alive. She’s only a starving animal when it comes to you.

Her fingers fuck you in a merciless rhythm, squelching and smacking filling the empty space, and rushing the blood to your cheeks in embarrassment at the lewd sounds. Your hips grind as well, somehow needing more despite her relentless thrusting, and she drinks your small moans of pleasure. Open mouthed lips capturing yours in a heated and desperate embrace with her free hand wrapped around your neck to both keep you in place and grip it tightly.

Clearly, Wanda couldn’t care less about where you are, at least not anymore. Her frenzied speed never fails to turn you into a puddle, and your thighs tremble once the familiar pressure rumbles down your belly.

“Mommy, I…” You try to tell her about the incoming blissful ending, and another harsh thrust against your spongy wall sends your eyes all the way back in euphoria.

As vocal as you’re being, you still try to keep it down. Your poor lungs are burning from your pathetic breathing, useless in the end because you’re still moaning and listening to their soft echoing.

“Yeah? Gonna cum all over mommy’s fingers, honey?” Wanda taunts you, her voice ragged with pulsing desire for the best sight there is to witness.

The steamy air and filling from her fingers are enough to warm you up. Small beads of sweat roll down your temples, and the heat releases the sweet scent of your perfume for Wanda to take in with her nose buried in the crook of your neck.

“So so close-“

A hurricane crashes down, emptying your head and your walls trap Wanda’s fingers inhumanly- as if trying to snap them from her hand to never miss the delicious stuffing again.

“What an impatient bunny. C’mon, keep being good for me and let go.” She whispers between bites and wet kisses on your neck.

The storm comes down, and you bite your lip so you won’t scream her name, drawing blood out as you squirt all over her fingers and your seat. The older woman can’t help but pant at the small show you’re performing for her, cursing because now this is all she’ll think about whenever she imparts her classes.

The white dots splattered all over Wanda’s face slowly fade away as you catch your breath and regain consciousness. She runs her fingers through your hair, soothing you and leaning in to suck the blood off your poor swollen lip.

“What am I going to do with you? I can’t control myself anymore.” Her question is mostly rhetoric, but it’s like she expects you to answer.

You don’t respond, of course, still empty headed because of her, and instead you just stare at her, completely moonstruck. Wanda sighs in amusement more than anything.

“My sweet, sweet girl…” She coos, her voice like honey.

The emptiness left by the ghost of her fingers causes you to groan under your breath, your thighs never ceasing their shivering. And she brings them to your mouth, the glistening of your creamy white arousal coating your lips as her digits enter your mouth again.

“How I wish I could just lock you up and keep you to myself.” She mutters between gruff sighs, intently watching you suck her fingers clean, “I hate that Kate keeps trying to keep you away from me…but you don’t want her. No. You want me, right?”

Doe wide eyes catch a glimpse of dangerous possessiveness in her emerald ones. You further take her fingers and nod your head, humming around her digits in a pleasing melody.

“One day…you’ll be away and missing, but finally all mine to have.”

[goaskangel]

helping an overworked john price !

you knew how busy john price could get at the base, especially if he’s stuck in his office with a crippling stacks of paperwork. so you took it as your responsibility, even as the captain’s girlfriend, to let him finish his work up with any distractions or interruptions, and god knows that man can get worked up. like a puppy, you’d stand outside his door, guarding it. maybe leaving your post for a quick coffee run to the lunch room and returning it back inside to his desk, you give each other a quick smile or nod. later you’d walk around the camp, accepting any errand from team members just to keep yourself occupied. 

the next time you gently close his door from the inside and ask him if he’d like another cup. 

“no, that’s alright.” his voice so deep that he clears his throat, most likely from the long period of muteness. you walk towards him and grin when you make contact with him, he sits up in his seat just a little, signaling for a peck. you kiss him and feel him get up casually. 

“don’t go jus’ yet, love.” 

you nod, even when he’s walking away to a file cabinet, his strong back facing you. you hop onto the empty space of his desk and kick your feet gently. john’s hands are warm when he cups your cheeks. you blush at the impact and feel his words go straight to your core, “miss lookin’ at this pretty face. been so busy, i ain’t have the time to see ya.” you giggle and paw at his chest when his beard scratches your face as he kisses you for longer. 

“needa break, birdie.” he mumbles between his kisses, he starts to toy with the various straps of your bra and tank top. you lean back according to his sudden eagerness, supporting yourself whilst his bigger body stands between your dangling legs. as if he’s inhaling you, he only stops smothering you with his love when you pull away for some air. “want it, john.” you find yourself almost moaning out when his large hands come to grasp your thighs, keeping your legs spread at his waist. 

“bad girl. tryna get a working man to submit to your neediness. mm, you’re lucky i’m willing.” he places a kiss on your shoulder before digging his fingers to the band of your shorts. he’s dragged your lower half to complete nudity while he tosses his shirt to his chair. the heat in the entire base almost unbearable, but you thank it for the sight of seeing john’s unshorn body glistening. his strong muscled arms much sexier unconfined to even a compression top. your bare cunt throbbing at the sight. 

“baby,” you call as he unbuckles his tight belt, “i didn’t lock the door.”

“ah, yes. but ‘ts all apart the thrill, love.” unzipping his loose jeans, “bet ya won’t remember the lock very well after i’m done with you.” you wanna slap the smirk off his mouth but your fingers dig into the wood desk when he slips his leaking tip against your sex. gathering that wetness, he smears it against his stiff length. john holds your legs against and prods at your very welcoming body before slipping in, slowly. 

“sh sh, gonna need ya to focus on not makin’ a peep, ‘kay love?” you would’ve stayed quiet regardless if his sweet honeyed voice had told you so, but god was it hard to. 

his large, uncut cock seems to force its path into your tight heat. you felt full even at halfway. the stretch burning exactly how you needed it, you don’t mind if the bite you have on your lip starts to bleed. 

he damn near growls through his barred teeth, “fuckin’ hell…” he holds his grip on your chubby thighs and bottoms out inside you. he wastes no time, quickening his pace, leaving your sweet pussy halfway just to return all the way back inside. you nod at the impact and start to shift and move your hips down to meet him. the deep, quiet groans and moans he lets out make you clench impossibly. 

after a good set of thrusts, he pulls out, letting your leg go to squeeze at the base of his cock. a thick amount of pre pours from your stretched cunt along with your own arousal, you gawk at the mess as you continue to leak down onto the floor, your shaking leg writhing at price’s side for his support. “what a sight, huh?” his very much hearted pupils watch the scene unfold upon him. he grabs your leg and shoves his way back inside of you, you hum at the needed fill. 

his voice is just above a whisper, “gonna be good for me and let me fill ‘er up?” it’s insane how quickly you nod. 

“yeah…pump this pretty cunt, mhm.” he takes a couple of good strokes before pressing flushed against your lower thighs, releasing his love out in you. you’d thank him immediately if your own orgasm didn’t crash down onto you, letting a pained, loud whine. but he can’t just stop there, he pulls his half-hard on out and teases your sensitive body. pushing his load by the tip back into you. cooing at how well you stay pliable and open for him. “so good…yep…my perfect girl, yes you are…” how couldn’t he love you, you just take such good care of him!

[solxamber]

Hello!! Can I get Octavinelle 7 fluff?

Always, For You. || Jade Leech

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "For you, anything." ; Genre: Fluff

You weren’t blind to who Jade Leech was. A man who thrived in chaos, stirred the pot just because he could, and smiled politely while doing it. People avoided asking for his help because, with Jade, everything came at a cost—whether you realized it or not.

Except when it came to you.

The first time it happened, it seemed insignificant. Grim had accidentally knocked over one of Crewel’s more volatile potions, the sparkling liquid oozing across the table, heading straight for your bag. You froze, unsure whether to grab your things or call for help, but before you could move, Jade stepped in.

“Careful,” he murmured, swiping your bag out of harm’s way with his gloved hands. His movements were graceful, calm, as if he were plucking a rare mushroom in one of his favorite forests. You stared at him in shock as he casually placed your bag on a safe countertop, not even glancing at the bubbling mess behind him.

“Uh… thanks?” you managed, unsure what just happened.

Jade turned to you, that polite, unreadable smile firmly in place. “Think nothing of it.” Then, as he walked away, he added over his shoulder, “For you, anything.”

You were left blinking, your heart doing an awkward little flip.

The second time was more dramatic. Floyd had you in a headlock, cackling about how you had to play some ridiculous game with him during lunch. You were already half-resigned to your fate when Jade appeared out of nowhere.

“Floyd,” he said smoothly, his tone calm but firm. “Let go.”

“C’mon, Jade, I’m just having fun!” Floyd whined but loosened his grip anyway.

Jade’s hand rested on his twin’s shoulder, his smile never faltering. “And I’m sure they appreciate your enthusiasm, but I believe their schedule is rather full today.”

Before you knew it, Floyd had been swept away, leaving you standing there dumbfounded.

“Uh… thanks again?” you called after Jade.

He paused, glanced back, and gave you that same polite smile, though this time his gaze lingered a moment too long. “Anything for you.”

It wasn’t fair, you thought later, as you mulled it over for the hundredth time. Jade didn’t help people out of the goodness of his heart. He liked to meddle, to twist situations to his advantage. And yet… he kept stepping in for you, expecting nothing in return.

The third time, you couldn’t take it anymore. After another ridiculous incident—this time involving him steering you away from an overly enthusiastic Ruggie and a “totally harmless” prank—you confronted him.

“Why do you keep helping me?” you blurted, cornering him in the Mostro Lounge after his shift.

Jade didn’t seem fazed. If anything, he looked amused. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because!” you said, flustered. “You don’t… you don’t just help people! There’s always something in it for you. But with me, you just…” You trailed off, gesturing vaguely as your thoughts tangled.

Jade stepped closer, his mismatched eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “Ah, but you’re special.” His voice softened, and you felt your heart stutter as he leaned in, close enough that his words were just for you. “For you, anything. Always.”

His smile wasn’t sharp this time—it was soft, genuine. And it was so much worse because it left you reeling, your cheeks heating as your chest filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

Jade didn’t wait for your response, just straightened and walked away, leaving you standing there, your mind spinning.

You weren’t sure what you’d done to earn his favor, but one thing was clear: Jade Leech had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the room.

Masterlist

[fioredeciliego]

Mommy Issues - Karina x Fem!Reader

11.2k words

Moving to another country wasn’t supposed to be easy. That was the mantra Y/N repeated to herself as she dragged her luggage through the crowded halls of Schiphol Airport. The Netherlands—a world away from the life she had known, filled with unfamiliar faces, a foreign language, and customs she barely understood. Yet, this was what she wanted. This was freedom.

It had taken months to plan, years to gather the courage. Back home, there was no peace. Privacy was a luxury she could never afford in a house that was always full: her mother, her three younger siblings, the constant noise. And then there was her mother herself—a complicated, volatile presence that dominated Y/N’s life. For years, Y/N had felt more like a caretaker than a daughter, shouldering responsibilities that weren’t hers to bear. It wasn’t all bad; she loved her siblings dearly and had moments with her mother that reminded her of the love buried under the chaos. But it was never enough to outweigh the suffocating sense of inadequacy and anxiety.

She rolled her suitcase to the curb and hailed a taxi, her heart hammering in her chest as she gave the driver her new address. The cityscape of Amsterdam blurred past the window as she tried to breathe deeply, grounding herself in the present. She’d rented a small studio apartment on the outskirts of the city—a modest space, but it was hers. No one would barge in uninvited. No one would demand things of her. No one would criticize her every move.

When the taxi stopped, she lugged her suitcase up the narrow staircase to her apartment. The first thing she noticed was how quiet it was. The silence felt foreign, almost eerie, after years of constant noise. She stood in the center of the room, taking in the plain white walls, the tiny kitchenette, the single window overlooking the street below. It wasn’t much, but it was hers.

As she unpacked, her phone buzzed on the counter. Her stomach twisted when she saw the caller ID: Mom.

She hesitated, staring at the screen until it went dark. The phone buzzed again, and this time, she answered.

“Hello?” Her voice was small, almost drowned out by the static of the poor connection.

“Y/N, where are you?” her mother’s voice demanded, sharp and accusatory. “Why didn’t you tell me you landed?”

“I just got in,” Y/N said, already bracing herself for the onslaught. “I was going to call you once I settled.”

“You should have called me right away. Do you know how worried I’ve been? You don’t think about anyone but yourself.”

Y/N closed her eyes, gripping the edge of the counter until her knuckles turned white. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, the words automatic, devoid of feeling.

Her mother launched into a familiar tirade about how selfish Y/N was, how ungrateful. She didn’t ask about the flight, the new apartment, or how Y/N was feeling. It was all about her mother’s own anxiety, her fears, her sacrifices. Y/N listened in silence, letting the words wash over her. She’d heard it all before.

When the call finally ended, Y/N sank onto the couch, tears prickling her eyes. She’d left the country to escape this, yet her mother’s voice still echoed in her head, a constant reminder of her failures. She wanted to scream, to cry, to do something, but instead, she sat there, staring at the bare walls of her new home.

--

The next few days passed in a blur of monotony. Wake up. Go to work. Eat alone. Come home. Watch TV. Sleep. Repeat. The job was unremarkable, a desk position at a small marketing firm. Her coworkers were polite but distant, their conversations flowing effortlessly in Dutch while Y/N fumbled with basic phrases. She spent her lunch breaks alone, scrolling through her phone and pretending not to notice the sidelong glances from her colleagues.

The weekends offered a slight reprieve. Y/N explored the city, wandering through parks, visiting museums, and losing herself in the maze of canals. She loved the quiet moments, the freedom to go wherever she wanted without answering to anyone. But even in the midst of Amsterdam’s beauty, she couldn’t shake the loneliness that clung to her like a shadow.

Her mother called almost every day, and every call left Y/N feeling more drained than the last. Her siblings would sometimes grab the phone, their voices bright and eager as they told her about school and their friends. Those moments were the only ones that brought a genuine smile to her face. She missed them terribly, but the thought of going back—of returning to that stifling environment—was unthinkable.

One evening, as she sat on the couch with a bowl of instant noodles, her phone buzzed again. She didn’t even need to look to know who it was.

“Hello?” she answered, her voice flat.

“Y/N, have you thought about what I said?” her mother’s voice was softer this time, almost pleading. “You don’t have to stay there. You can come home. We need you here.”

“I can’t,” Y/N said, her throat tightening. “I need to do this for myself.”

“Your siblings miss you. I miss you.”

Y/N’s grip on the phone tightened. “I miss you too. But I can’t come back. Not now.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Fine,” her mother said, her tone laced with disappointment. “Do what you want.”

The call ended, leaving Y/N feeling hollow. She set the phone down and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. She’d thought putting distance between them would help, but the weight of her mother’s expectations still bore down on her, even from thousands of miles away.

--

The following week, Y/N found herself walking aimlessly through Vondelpark, the crisp autumn air a welcome distraction from the thoughts swirling in her head. She’d taken to spending her lunch breaks there, finding solace in the rustling leaves and the laughter of children playing nearby.

She sat on a bench, pulling out a small notebook she’d started carrying with her. Writing had always been a form of escape for her, a way to process the chaos in her mind. She scribbled down a few lines, her thoughts tumbling onto the page:

I just want to feel loved. Truly loved. Not out of obligation or guilt. Loved for who I am, not for what I can do for others.

She stared at the words, her chest tightening. It felt selfish to admit, but it was the truth. For once in her life, she wanted someone to take care of her, to make her feel safe. She wanted what she’d never had—unconditional love.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

The morning sunlight poured through the window of the cozy townhouse nestled in a quiet neighborhood of Amsterdam. Jimin stretched lazily, her fingers brushing against the edge of her soft duvet. The faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifted up from the kitchen, signaling the start of another peaceful day.

Her family was always an anchor of stability in her life. Her mother, a warm and nurturing presence, was undoubtedly the heart of their home. She had a knack for making anyone feel welcome, whether it was through her perfectly brewed tea or her way of listening that made you feel truly heard. Jimin’s father balanced her mother’s kindness with his grounded practicality, always ready with a steady hand or a piece of advice. Her older sister, Hana, was her confidante and occasional partner-in-crime, always there to lend an ear or offer her unabashed honesty. Together, they formed a bubble of unconditional love that Jimin knew she was lucky to have.

Yet, even with this steadfast support system, a void lingered in her heart—an unspoken yearning for someone to share her life with.

Jimin rose from her bed, padding over to the window to look out at the serene street below. “Another day,” she murmured to herself. She glanced at her phone to see a string of messages from her best friends lighting up the screen.

Aeri: “Morning! Don’t forget, you’re walking Cooper today.”

Minjeong: “Bet she forgets and we have to chase the dog again.”

Yizhuo: “Minjeong’s just mad because Cooper likes Jimin better.”

Jimin chuckled, her heart lightening. Her friends were like family. They had been inseparable since childhood, navigating the ups and downs of life together. If her family provided her foundation, her friends were the walls and roof that sheltered her from life’s storms. But even with them, Jimin felt that persistent ache for something… or someone… she couldn’t quite name.

--

After a quick breakfast, Jimin arrived at Aeri’s house to pick up Cooper, Aeri’s spirited greyhound. Cooper bounded up to her as soon as she stepped through the door, his tail wagging furiously.

“Hey, buddy!” Jimin crouched down to ruffle his fur, earning a happy bark. “Ready for a walk?”

Aeri leaned against the doorway, smirking. “You’re spoiling him, you know. He’ll never want to come back to me at this rate.”

“Can you blame him? I’m way more fun,” Jimin teased, clipping on Cooper's leash.

“Just don’t lose him,” Aeri called as Jimin and Cooper headed out.

The park was a short walk from Aeri’s place, a lush expanse of greenery dotted with families, joggers, and couples enjoying the crisp morning air. Cooper tugged at the leash, eager to explore. Jimin let him lead the way, her thoughts drifting.

As much as she loved her life, it often felt… predictable. Her days were filled with love and laughter, but there was a part of her that craved something more. She wanted to be the kind of person who could offer someone the same sense of warmth and security her family had always given her. She wanted someone to come home to, someone to share her quiet moments with, someone who would trust her to take care of them.

“Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic,” she mused aloud, earning a curious tilt of Cooper’s head.

--

Later that afternoon, Jimin met up with her friends at their favorite café. The cozy space buzzed with chatter, the scent of freshly baked pastries mingling with the rich aroma of coffee. Minjeong was already seated, scrolling through her phone, while Yizhuo animatedly recounted a story to Aeri.

“You’re late,” Minjeong said without looking up as Jimin slid into the booth.

“Cooper wanted to inspect every single tree in the park,” Jimin replied, grinning.

“Sure he did,” Minjeong said dryly, but the corners of her mouth twitched in amusement.

“Speaking of dogs,” Aeri began, “have you guys noticed how much Jimin’s been sighing lately? Like a lovesick puppy?”

Jimin’s cheeks flushed. “I have not!”

“Oh, come on,” Yizhuo said, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “You’ve got that faraway look in your eyes. Spill. Is there someone you’ve got your eye on?”

“No,” Jimin said firmly, but her friends weren’t convinced.

“You know,” Aeri said thoughtfully, “it’s okay to admit you’re looking for someone. We all know you’ve got that whole ‘caretaker’ thing going on. You’d be a great girlfriend.”

Jimin groaned. “Why do I even hang out with you guys?”

“Because you love us,” Yizhuo quipped.

Despite their teasing, Jimin knew they were right. She was looking for someone, even if she didn’t know who yet.

--

That night, Jimin sat on her bed, scrolling aimlessly through her phone. She paused on a photo from the park earlier that day—Cooper sniffing a patch of flowers, his grey fur glowing in the sunlight. It was such a simple moment, yet it had brought her so much joy.

“Maybe that’s all I’m missing,” she thought. “Someone to share the little moments with.”

She set her phone down and lay back, staring at the ceiling. Her life was full of love and laughter, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was someone out there who needed her just as much as she needed them.

And maybe, just maybe, she would find them.

With that thought, Jimin drifted off to sleep, her dreams filled with fleeting images of laughter, warmth, and a pair of eyes she hadn’t yet met but somehow already knew.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

The morning air was crisp and fresh, carrying the faint scent of flowers blooming across the park. Jimin tugged at the leash in her hand, glancing down at the sleek Greyhound trotting alongside her. Cooper’s thin frame and long legs made him look almost regal, but his excitement for sniffing every patch of grass made Jimin chuckle.

"Cooper, can we stick to the path for once?" Jimin muttered, gently tugging the leash as the Greyhound veered toward another tree.

She’d agreed to take Aeri’s dog out for a walk, something she didn’t mind doing since it gave her an excuse to enjoy the peaceful weekend morning. The park was alive with activity—families on picnic blankets, joggers weaving through the paths, and couples strolling hand in hand.

Jimin barely noticed the lone figure sitting on the edge of the fountain, head bowed as if lost in thought. You had come to the park seeking a bit of calm amidst the chaos of adjusting to your new life. The sound of the fountain’s gentle splashes mixed with the distant chatter of park-goers, providing a soothing backdrop to your wandering thoughts.

Suddenly, a blur of movement snapped you out of your reverie. Before you could react, a Greyhound barreled toward you, its leash trailing behind it.

"Whoa!" you yelped as the dog jumped up, placing his paws on your lap and eagerly licking your face.

"Cooper!" a voice rang out, frantic and apologetic.

Despite the surprise, a laugh bubbled up from your chest. "Okay, okay! I get it, you’re excited!" you said, gently scratching the dog behind his ears.

Jimin sprinted toward you, her heart pounding from both exertion and embarrassment. She grabbed Cooper’s leash and tugged gently. "Cooper, af! Kom eraf!"

At her command, Cooper obediently stepped back, though his tail wagged with unbridled enthusiasm.

"I am so, so sorry!" Jimin blurted, her words spilling out in Dutch. "Hij doet dit normaal gesproken niet—uh, sorry! I mean... uh..."

She froze as soon as you looked up, her breath catching. Your laughter had already left her stunned, but now, meeting your gaze for the first time, Jimin felt her heart lurch. You were looking at her with a mix of amusement and curiosity, your eyes sparkling in a way that made her brain short-circuit.

Realizing she’d spoken Dutch, you blinked, scrambling to piece together the few words you recognized. "Sorry... I don’t speak Dutch," you said, your voice hesitant but kind.

Jimin’s face turned crimson. "Oh! Oh, right! English, sorry," she stammered, switching languages. "He doesn’t usually do this—I mean, he’s usually... better behaved?"

She winced at how clunky her words sounded, her usual confidence completely abandoning her under your gaze.

"It’s okay," you said, a smile tugging at your lips. You brushed some dog hair off your clothes. "He’s sweet. Maybe a little too enthusiastic, but sweet."

Jimin exhaled a laugh, relief washing over her. "Yeah, that’s Cooper for you. Always ready to make an impression."

You crouched slightly, giving the Greyhound one last pat. "Well, he succeeded. Is he yours?"

Jimin shook her head quickly, glad to have a straightforward question to answer. "No, he’s not mine. I’m just watching him for a friend. I’m Jimin, by the way."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should introduce yourself. But there was something disarming about her—the way she seemed both nervous and sincere.

"Y/N," you said, standing and offering your hand.

Jimin hesitated before taking it, her touch warm and a little unsure. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. And I really am sorry about Cooper."

"Really, it’s fine," you replied, waving off her concern. "Honestly, I needed a distraction today. He’s adorable."

Jimin glanced at Cooper, who was now sitting obediently, his tail wagging lazily. "Adorable is one way to put it. He’s also a bit of a menace."

You laughed softly, and Jimin felt her chest tighten. The sound was so genuine, like a spark of light cutting through her nerves.

"So," Jimin began, shifting her weight awkwardly, "are you touring here?"

You tilted your head, the cliché making you grin. "Not really. I actually just moved a couple weeks ago, so I’m still figuring things out."

"Wow," Jimin said, genuinely impressed. "That’s a big change. How are you finding it so far?"

You shrugged, your gaze drifting toward the fountain. "It’s... an adjustment. Some days are harder than others."

Something in your tone made Jimin pause. She wanted to ask more, to know why your smile seemed tinged with something wistful. But instead, she nodded, her voice gentle. "I can imagine. If you ever need tips or recommendations, I’m kind of an expert. Born and raised here."

Your smile softened, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a little less like an outsider. "I might take you up on that."

“Well, I really feel like I owe you something for all this,” Jimin said, gesturing to Cooper, who wagged his tail innocently as if he weren’t the culprit of the chaos.

Y/N waved it off, awkwardly chuckling. “Really, it’s fine. No need to apologize.”

Jimin shook her head, determination shining in her eyes. “How about I buy you a coffee? My treat. I insist. That way we can start the tour”

Y/N hesitated, glancing down at her phone as if she could escape the situation. “You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to,” Jimin interrupted gently, “but I want to. Please?”

Faced with Jimin’s earnest smile, Y/N found herself nodding despite her reservations. “Okay, sure.”

--

They walked together to a small café nearby, Cooper trotting beside them, now behaving like a model citizen. The atmosphere was a little awkward at first; Y/N wasn’t used to spontaneous social interactions, especially with strangers.

Jimin, sensing the tension, started to ramble. “So, do you live around here? Or were you just visiting the park?”

“I live close by,” Y/N replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I like to come here on weekends to unwind.”

“That’s nice. I come here pretty often too. Well, not usually with Cooper—that’s Aeri’s dog. She’s one of my best friends. She couldn’t walk him today, so here I am.”

Y/N nodded, her lips twitching into a small smile. “He’s sweet. A little intense, but sweet.”

Jimin grinned. “That’s a perfect description of him.”

By the time they reached the café, Jimin had managed to pull a few more details out of Y/N: she’s taking intensive dutch classes, worked a remote job, and didn’t know many people yet.

Inside the cozy café, they sat by a window with steaming cups of coffee in front of them. Cooper lay sprawled under the table, finally tired out.

Jimin shared funny stories about Cooper and her friends, while Y/N talked about her favorite hobbies and places she’d discovered so far.

Jimin found herself captivated by Y/N’s laughter. It wasn’t loud or boisterous, but it was genuine, and Jimin decided she wanted to hear it as often as possible.

By the time their cups were empty, Jimin didn’t want the moment to end. As they stepped out of the café, she took a deep breath.

“Can I—uh—get your number?” Jimin asked, scratching the back of her neck nervously. “You know, so I can let you know when Cooper’s planning his next ambush.”

Y/N laughed, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Sure.”

They exchanged numbers, and Jimin couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across her face.

As they parted ways, Jimin did a little jump of happiness. Hearing a giggle, she looked back to see that Y/N was still there, looking at her. Blushing, she clumsily waved goodbye and walked Cooper back to Aeri’s place, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time.

Y/N watched her retreating figure, a faint smile lingering on her lips. It had been a long time since she felt this kind of warmth.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

The weekend had been unusually lively for you, though not in the traditional sense. Your apartment remained your sanctuary, the world outside still too daunting to face for long. Yet, your phone buzzed more frequently than it had in months, each notification bringing a smile to your face.

Jimin: "Do you think Cooper knows he’s a Greyhound, or does he just think he’s a really fast human?" You snorted at the absurdity of her question, shaking your head as you replied.

You: "Fast human, 100%. With questionable manners."

Jimin: "Hey, Cooper has AMAZING manners! He only licked your face because he sensed you’re nice." Jimin: "…Or maybe he just thought you smelled good. Either way, he’s the goodest boy!"

Her messages were a mix of humor and sweetness, each one pulling you further out of the fog that had settled over your mind since you’d arrived in this new country. It was strange how quickly Jimin had become a presence in your life. Her texts were the highlight of your days, her playful energy a stark contrast to the loneliness you often felt.

You spent most of Saturday exchanging messages with her, laughing at her jokes and learning more about her life. She told you about Cooper’s quirks, her friends’ antics, and her favorite spots in the city. It was easy, effortless even, and you found yourself wishing you could hold onto this feeling a little longer.

Sunday morning was no different. Jimin sent you a picture of Cooper lounging on her couch, his long legs sprawled awkwardly.

Jimin: "Look at this absolute model. He’s posing for Vogue, clearly." You: "GQ, maybe. He’s got the ‘brooding male lead’ look down."

Your laughter filled the quiet apartment, a sound that had been absent for far too long. But just as you were settling into the comfort of this new routine, your phone buzzed again, and your heart sank.

Mom.

The name on the screen felt heavier than it should have, and for a moment, you considered letting it go to voicemail. But the guilt crept in quickly, as it always did, and you sighed, swiping to answer.

“Hello?” you said, keeping your tone neutral.

“Y/N,” your mom’s voice came through, sharp and impatient. “Finally. Do you ever check your phone? I’ve been calling all weekend!”

You closed your eyes, already bracing yourself for the familiar cycle. “I’ve been busy, Mom,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just trying to get things done.”

“Busy?” she scoffed. “Too busy to call your own mother? You have time to move halfway across the world but not to pick up the phone?”

Her words stung, as they always did, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “I’m not ignoring you,” you said carefully. “I just needed some time for myself.”

“Time for yourself,” she repeated, her tone dripping with disdain. “And what about your family, Y/N? What about me? Do you ever think about how hard it is for me to keep everything together without you?”

Your chest tightened, the familiar guilt settling in like an old friend. “Mom, I didn’t leave to hurt you. I just needed space to figure things out.”

“Space,” she said bitterly. “From your own family? From the mother who’s done everything for you? Do you even care about us anymore?”

Her words felt like a punch to the gut, but you bit your tongue, refusing to let the frustration spill out. “I do care,” you said softly. “I just—”

“Forget it,” she snapped, cutting you off. “You clearly don’t have time for me. I’ll let you get back to your oh-so-busy life.”

The line went dead before you could respond. You stared at the phone in your hand, the silence in the room now deafening. You knew you hadn’t done anything wrong, but the weight of her words pressed down on you all the same.

You tried to shake off the heaviness, but it clung to you like a shadow. Desperate for a distraction, you opened your chat with Jimin, your fingers hovering over the keyboard.

You: "Are you free for a call?"

Her reply came almost instantly.

Jimin: "Always! Give me 5 mins to grab headphones."

You smiled faintly at her eagerness, even as your chest still felt tight. A few moments later, your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You hesitated for a second before answering.

“Hey,” Jimin’s voice was bright and cheerful, a stark contrast to your mood.

“Hi,” you said softly, your voice quieter than usual.

There was a pause on the other end, and you could almost feel her concern. “Are you okay?” she asked gently.

You hesitated, not ready to unpack the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” you admitted.

Jimin didn’t press, her voice lightening instead. “That’s okay. Want me to tell you about how Cooper tried to steal my breakfast this morning?”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah. Tell me everything.”

And just like that, Jimin launched into a dramatic retelling of her morning, complete with exaggerated impressions of Cooper’s antics. Her voice was animated, full of warmth and humor, and it didn’t take long for her stories to pull you out of your head.

“I swear, if he had opposable thumbs, he’d be unstoppable,” Jimin said, finishing her tale of how Cooper managed to knock her cereal bowl off the counter.

You laughed, the sound feeling almost foreign after the weight of the day. “Maybe you should hire him as a food critic. He’s clearly got opinions.”

Jimin gasped theatrically. “Brilliant idea. I’ll start his blog tomorrow: Cooper’s Culinary Adventures.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics—your favorite foods, her favorite spots in the city, and a heated debate about whether pineapple belonged on pizza (Jimin was adamantly against it, to your amusement).

As the hours slipped by, you found yourself relaxing more and more, the tightness in your chest easing with each passing moment.

“Thanks for this,” you said quietly, interrupting her mid-sentence.

“For what?” Jimin asked, her voice genuinely puzzled.

“For... just being here,” you admitted. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

Her voice softened. “Hey, anytime. Really. I like talking to you.”

Your heart warmed at her sincerity, and for the first time that day, the weight of your mom’s words didn’t feel so crushing.

The call stretched late into the night, neither of you wanting to hang up. Jimin’s laughter filled the empty corners of your apartment, her warmth seeping through the phone and wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

By the time you finally said goodnight, the heaviness in your chest had lifted

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

The scent of spices and sizzling food filled the air as you approached Jimin’s apartment. Your stomach churned—not from hunger, but from nerves. Meeting Jimin’s friends felt like stepping into uncharted territory. You weren’t sure if you were ready for this yet, but Jimin had insisted.

“They’re going to love you,” she’d said, her voice warm and confident over the phone.

You adjusted your grip on the small bouquet of flowers you’d brought—a gesture you hoped would make a good first impression. Maybe this would be okay.

When the door swung open, Jimin stood there, dressed in a simple yet effortlessly stylish sweater and jeans. Her warm smile eased some of your tension immediately. “Hey, you made it!” she said, stepping aside to let you in.

Her apartment was cozy, with string lights lining the walls and the faint hum of music playing in the background. The voices of her friends carried from the kitchen, punctuated by bursts of laughter.

“You didn’t have to bring flowers,” Jimin said, taking the bouquet from your hands. “But they’re so pretty. Thank you!”

“I just thought it’d be nice,” you replied, your voice quiet but steady.

Jimin placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Seriously, they’re going to love you. Promise.”

You nodded, though the knot of anxiety in your stomach remained as you followed her deeper into the apartment.

As you entered the kitchen, three people were clustered around a counter piled high with food. Their laughter faded as Jimin announced your arrival.

“Guys, this is Y/N,” she said, her tone bright and cheerful.

Three pairs of eyes turned toward you. For a split second, you wanted to retreat, but their faces broke into warm smiles that made you feel a little less out of place.

“Finally!” said a tall girl with sharp features and an easy grin. “Jimin’s been talking about you nonstop. I’m Aeri, by the way.”

“Minjeong,” another introduced herself, shorter with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Nice to meet the person who’s been monopolizing Jimin’s attention lately.”

“Don’t mind them,” the last one said, her tone playful. She was bubbly and energetic, her bright smile instantly infectious. “I’m Yizhuo. And I promise we’re not that scary. Just a little.”

You smiled shyly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “It’s nice to meet you all,” you said, clutching the strap of your bag tightly.

“Come on, sit down,” Aeri said, gesturing to the table. “Jimin’s been cooking all day. She refuses to let us help, so if it’s bad, we’re blaming her.”

“Excuse me!” Jimin interjected, hands on her hips. “You’re the one who burned the rice the last time we let you cook.”

The banter flew back and forth easily, the teasing and laughter filling the room with a warmth that started to chip away at your nerves.

The table was laden with dishes—steaming bowls of pasta, fresh salad, and crispy garlic bread. As you took a seat, you noticed the effort Jimin had put into making everything perfect.

“This looks amazing,” you said, glancing at her.

She grinned. “Thanks. Cooking is kind of my thing.”

As everyone dug in, the conversation flowed effortlessly. They teased Jimin mercilessly, recounting stories that had you laughing despite yourself.

“Did she tell you about the time she fell into the canal trying to impress someone?” Minjeong asked, her grin wicked.

“Hey!” Jimin protested, her cheeks flushing. “That was years ago!”

“And yet, here we are,” Aeri said, smirking.

“She never learns,” Yizhuo added. “The other day, she tripped over Cooper’s leash and spilled coffee all over herself.”

“That wasn’t my fault! Cooper’s deceptively strong!” Jimin defended, throwing a napkin at Yizhuo.

“So, Y/N,” Aeri said, leaning forward with a curious grin, “what’s your deal? How’d you end up stuck with Jimin?”

You hesitated, but their faces were open and inviting. “We met at the park,” you said, glancing at Jimin. “Your dog kind of ambushed me.”

Classic Cooper,” Minjeong said, shaking her head with mock exasperation.

“Sounds about right,” Yizhuo agreed. “But hey, at least something good came out of it.”

You smiled, feeling a little more comfortable as the conversation turned to lighter topics—favorite movies, travel destinations, and the best local restaurants.

At one point, Yizhuo turned to you with a mischievous grin. “So, Jimin’s been on her best behavior, right? No embarrassing serenades or awkward pickup lines?”

“Yizhuo!” Jimin groaned, burying her face in her hands.

You laughed softly. “She’s been great. No serenades yet.”

“Key word: yet,” Minjeong teased, earning another napkin thrown her way.

As the night went on, you felt the weight of your anxiety begin to lift. Jimin’s friends had a way of making you feel like you belonged, their easy camaraderie wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

By the time the plates were cleared and everyone settled into a more relaxed conversation, you found yourself leaning back in your chair, feeling a sense of comfort you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“So,” Aeri said, raising her glass with a teasing grin, “if Jimin ever messes this up, just know we’re all here to steal you for ourselves. No pressure, Jimin.”

Jimin groaned dramatically. “Can you guys not scare her away?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and genuine. “I think I’ll stick around for now,” you said, glancing at Jimin with a soft smile.

Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, the room seemed to fade away.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

The evening sun cast a golden glow over the city as you and Jimin strolled through a quiet street, the rhythmic hum of bicycles filling the air. The two of you had spent the day wandering through local shops, sharing little anecdotes and indulging in pastries from a nearby bakery. With every moment, you felt a little lighter, your laughter coming more easily around her.

“You have powdered sugar on your face,” Jimin said, pointing at the corner of your mouth with a teasing smile.

“Where?” you asked, swiping at your cheek.

Jimin shook her head, chuckling. “No, not there. Here—” She reached out, her thumb brushing gently against your skin. The touch was brief but enough to make your cheeks warm.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, looking away to hide your flustered expression.

Jimin’s grin widened, but she didn’t tease you further. “I’m just saying, it’s a sign you enjoyed the pastry.”

“Maybe I did,” you replied, your voice softer now.

The two of you continued walking, the atmosphere comfortable and filled with the kind of quiet contentment that didn’t need words. But as you reached a small bench by the canal, your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you out of the moment.

You hesitated before pulling it out. The screen lit up with a name that made your heart sink: Mom. For a moment, you considered letting it go to voicemail. But the guilt that always lingered when you ignored her calls was too heavy to bear.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you said, stepping away from Jimin.

Her brow furrowed slightly, but she nodded. “Take your time.”

You walked a few paces away, answering the call with a tentative, “Hello?”

Your mom’s voice came through, sharp and insistent. “Y/N, finally. I’ve been calling all day. Why haven’t you answered?”

“I’ve been busy,” you said, keeping your tone as neutral as possible.

“Busy? What could you possibly be doing that’s more important than answering your mother?” she demanded, her voice rising slightly.

You sighed, already feeling the familiar weight settle over your chest. “I’m just out right now. I can’t talk long.”

“Out? With who? Are you making bad decisions again?” she asked, the accusation in her tone cutting deep.

“No, Mom,” you said firmly, trying to keep your composure. “I’m just with a friend.”

Your mom’s tone softened slightly, but the edge remained. “You’re always so distant these days. I don’t understand why you can’t make more time for your family. Do you even care about us anymore?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “Of course I care,” you said, your voice quieter now. “But I’m trying to build my own life here. I need space.”

“Space?” she repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. “You’ve had all the space in the world since you left. But do you even think about how hard this has been for us? For me?”

You closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Mom, I—”

“No, Y/N. You don’t understand. You’ve abandoned us, and now you’re too busy to even talk? What kind of daughter does that?”

Her words, laced with guilt and frustration, made your grip on the phone tighten. “I’m trying my best,” you said, your voice breaking slightly.

“Clearly, your best isn’t enough,” she said sharply before the line went dead.

You stared at your phone, the screen dimming as the call ended. The knot in your stomach tightened, and the guilt clawed at you, even though you knew you hadn’t done anything wrong.

You turned back toward Jimin, who was watching you with concern. She stood as you approached, her expression soft.

“Everything okay?” she asked gently.

You tried to nod, but the lump in your throat made it impossible to speak. Instead, you sat on the bench, staring at the ground.

Jimin hesitated for a moment before sitting beside you. She didn’t press you for details, but her presence was steady and comforting.

You forced a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

Jimin studied you for a moment, her gaze searching. “You sure?”

You hesitated, then nodded quickly. “I just don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” she said softly, her tone understanding. She didn’t push, didn’t pry, and you were grateful for it.

imin didn’t look away, though, her presence steady and grounding.

After a while, she broke the quiet. “You know, if Cooper were here, he’d probably be trying to sit on your lap right now. All 30 kilograms of him.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “Yeah? Sounds like a handful.”

Jimin grinned, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “He is. But he’s also a giant baby. Last week, he tried to hide behind me because he saw a pigeon.”

“A pigeon?” you repeated, laughter bubbling up despite the heaviness in your chest.

Jimin’s smile faltered, her tone turning sheepish. “Okay, so... I might’ve been a little scared, too.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, are you telling me you’re afraid of pigeons?”

Jimin groaned, burying her face in her hands. “It’s not a fear! It’s just... they’re unpredictable, okay? They move too fast, and they’re always staring at you like they know your secrets.”

You burst out laughing, the sound startling even yourself. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, I’m glad my suffering amuses you,” Jimin said with a mock pout, though the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her teasing.

“Seriously, though,” you said, your laughter subsiding into a grin, “a Greyhound and a grown woman scared of a pigeon? That’s a story for the ages.”

“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve been on the receiving end of a pigeon’s wrath,” Jimin said, crossing her arms in mock indignation.

Her animated expressions and playful tone pulled you further away from the storm of emotions left by the call. The ache in your chest didn’t disappear, but it dulled under the warmth of Jimin’s company.

“Thank you,” you said suddenly, your voice quiet but sincere.

Jimin looked at you, her brows lifting in surprise. “For what?”

“For just... being here,” you said, meeting her gaze briefly before looking away.

A soft smile spread across her face. “Always.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of lighthearted conversation and quiet companionship. Jimin didn’t push you to share more, didn’t try to fix what she couldn’t understand. Instead, she simply stayed by your side, her presence a steady reassurance that you didn’t have to face everything alone.

And for now, that was enough.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

The café was bustling with life, the hum of conversation mixing with the clatter of coffee cups and the hiss of the espresso machine. You and Jimin had claimed a small table by the window, the sunlight streaming in and casting a warm glow on her features.

As always, Jimin had a way of making you feel at ease, her laughter contagious and her stories brimming with energy. But today, your mind was elsewhere, pulled into a spiral you couldn’t seem to escape.

It started when a girl had walked up to your table—a tall, confident woman with a dazzling smile. She greeted Jimin with an ease that spoke of familiarity, her tone playful as they exchanged a few quick jokes. You tried to focus on your coffee, pretending the interaction didn’t bother you, but the way Jimin’s face lit up as they talked sent a pang of unease through your chest.

The woman left as quickly as she’d arrived, waving goodbye to Jimin with a wink. Jimin returned to your conversation seamlessly, completely unaware of the way your heart was now hammering in your chest.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. Jimin wasn’t yours; you weren’t dating. She was just being her naturally kind and warm self. But the thought didn’t stop the flood of doubts that followed.

Why would someone like Jimin ever want someone like you?

You stirred your coffee absentmindedly, your gaze fixed on the swirling liquid. Jimin’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“Y/N?”

You looked up, startled to find her watching you with concern.

“Everything okay? You’ve been quiet.”

You forced a smile, hoping it looked convincing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

Jimin didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she launched into a story about her friend’s latest antics, her animated gestures drawing a small, genuine laugh from you.

But even as you smiled, the doubts lingered.

--

You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as your thoughts raced. Images of Jimin laughing with that woman played on a loop in your mind, each one twisting the knife of insecurity a little deeper.

You reminded yourself again that Jimin wasn’t yours. She had every right to talk to whoever she wanted. But no matter how much you reasoned with yourself, the feelings wouldn’t go away.

It wasn’t just jealousy—it was something deeper, more insidious. A voice in your head whispered that you weren’t good enough for someone like Jimin. That she deserved someone brighter, someone more put together, someone who didn’t carry the baggage you did.

By the time morning came, the weight of those thoughts felt unbearable.

--

Jimin noticed immediately when you met up that afternoon. She always noticed.

“You’re quiet again,” she said, tilting her head as the two of you walked along the canal. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

You nodded quickly, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But Jimin stopped walking, her hand gently catching your arm to stop you too.

“Y/N,” she said softly, her eyes searching yours. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You hesitated, your first instinct to deflect. But the concern in her eyes made it impossible to lie.

“It’s nothing, really,” you said, your voice shaky. “I’m just... in my head, I guess.”

Jimin didn’t let go of your arm. “In your head about what?”

You looked away, your gaze fixed on the water. “I just... I feel like I don’t measure up sometimes. Like I’m not... enough.”

The words felt heavy as they left your mouth, and you braced yourself for her reaction.

But Jimin didn’t look at you with pity or disbelief. She looked at you with so much care it almost hurt.

“Why would you think that?” she asked gently.

You shrugged, still unable to meet her gaze. “Because it’s true. I mean, look at you—you’re amazing, Jimin. You’re kind and beautiful and confident. You could have anyone you wanted. Why would you ever...”

You trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Jimin stepped closer, her hand moving from your arm to your hand. Her touch was steady, grounding.

“Hey,” she said, her voice firm but kind. “Don’t do that. Don’t compare yourself to anyone else. You’re amazing too, Y/N.”

You shook your head, your throat tightening. “You don’t understand. I’m a mess, Jimin. I’ve got so much baggage, and I’m not... I’m not like you.”

Jimin squeezed your hand, her grip warm and reassuring. “You’re right—you’re not like me. And that’s a good thing. I don’t want you to be like me, Y/N. I want you to be you.”

Her words made your chest tighten, the sincerity in her voice breaking through the wall you’d built around yourself.

“But what if me isn’t enough?” you whispered, the question breaking your voice.

Jimin stepped closer, her other hand coming up to gently rest on your shoulder. “Y/N, you are more than enough. You’re kind, and funny, and smart. You make people feel seen and heard. You make me feel... happy. Really happy.”

You blinked, her words sinking in slowly. “I do?”

Jimin nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. “You do. Every time I see you, every time we talk, I feel like my day gets brighter. You don’t have to be anyone else or do anything special—you just have to be you. That’s enough for me.”

The lump in your throat grew, but this time it wasn’t from sadness. It was from the overwhelming warmth of Jimin’s words.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice trembling.

Jimin smiled, her hands giving yours a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want you to see yourself the way I see you.”

For the first time in what felt like days, the weight on your chest began to lift. Jimin’s words didn’t erase your insecurities completely, but they made them feel smaller, more manageable.

“Can we... just keep walking for a bit?” you asked, needing a moment to process everything.

“Of course,” Jimin said, her smile gentle. She let go of your hand, but only to fall into step beside you, her presence steady and comforting.

As you walked together, the canal glinting in the afternoon sun, you realized something important: Jimin saw you—truly saw you—and she didn’t run away.

Maybe, just maybe, you could start seeing yourself the way she did.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Jimin had texted you the day after the call that had left you shaken. Her message was simple:

“I was thinking... maybe we could hang out this weekend? Just you and me? Nothing too fancy, just... a date?”

Your heart had skipped a beat at the word "date." It was the first time she’d said it outright, and though the thought filled you with nervous excitement, you agreed.

So now you stood in your apartment, nervously smoothing down your outfit, when a knock sounded at the door. You opened it to find Jimin standing there, a shy smile on her face—and a small bouquet of tulips in her hands.

“These are for you,” she said, her voice a little sheepish as she held them out.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “You brought me flowers?”

Jimin shrugged, her cheeks flushing. “I figured... I don’t know, I thought you might like them.”

A soft laugh escaped you as you took the bouquet, the vibrant petals a burst of color against the duller tones of your thoughts. “I do. Thank you, Jimin. They’re beautiful.”

Jimin’s smile grew, and she glanced down at her shoes. “I’m glad you like them.”

You invited her in, setting the flowers in a vase with water before grabbing your coat. “So, what’s the plan for this date?”

Jimin’s grin turned playful as she said, “You’ll see.”

The surprise didn’t last long, though. Instead of a bustling restaurant or a noisy café, Jimin led you to her apartment. The choice made your heart settle—it was thoughtful, quiet, and personal, exactly what you needed.

Her place was cozy and inviting, with soft lighting and a faint scent of vanilla. The living room was small but thoughtfully decorated, filled with plants and little knick-knacks that spoke to Jimin’s personality. A blanket was draped over the couch, and the coffee table was set with snacks, two glasses, and a bottle of wine.

“I figured we could keep it simple,” Jimin said as she slipped off her shoes. “Movies, snacks, maybe a little wine? No pressure, though—just whatever feels comfortable.”

“Perfect,” you said, meaning it. After the emotional turmoil of the past week, this kind of quiet, personal setting was exactly what you needed.

You settled on the couch, and Jimin joined you, a movie queued up but forgotten as the two of you started talking. Jimin had a way of making you feel at ease, her energy infectious and her laughter like a warm hug.

Hours passed without you even realizing it, the two of you sharing stories, teasing each other, and laughing until your sides hurt. But as the evening wore on, the warmth of the moment began to stir something deeper within you—a longing to share the parts of yourself you usually kept hidden.

Jimin must have sensed the shift because she turned to you, her smile softening. “You okay? You’ve gone quiet.”

You hesitated, your fingers picking at the edge of the blanket draped over your lap. “I’m okay... I think.”

Jimin didn’t push. She just waited, her presence steady and reassuring, giving you the space to find your words.

Taking a deep breath, you began. “I haven’t told you much about my past... about why I moved here.”

Jimin’s expression grew serious, her gaze never leaving yours. “You don’t have to if you’re not ready,” she said gently.

“I want to,” you said, surprising yourself with how certain you felt. “I think... I need to.”

Jimin nodded, her body angled toward you as if to shield you from the rest of the world.

“It’s my mom,” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. “She’s... she’s always been hard on me. Critical, demanding, never satisfied. Nothing I ever did was enough for her. And when I told her I was leaving, that I needed space, she made me feel like I was the worst person in the world for even thinking about it.”

Your hands trembled as you spoke, and Jimin reached out, her hand warm and steady on yours.

“She’d call me selfish, ungrateful,” you continued, your voice breaking. “She’d guilt me, make me feel like I owed her everything. And even now, when I’m here, she still calls and texts constantly, like she can’t let me go. And I...” You paused, swallowing hard. “I know I did the right thing by leaving, but I can’t stop feeling guilty. Like I failed her.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you blinked them away, but they fell anyway. “And it’s not just her. It’s... it’s everything. She’s in my head, telling me I’m not good enough, that I’ll never be good enough. And no matter how much I try to drown it out, it’s always there.”

Jimin’s thumb brushed over your knuckles, her touch grounding you. “Y/N,” she said softly, her voice filled with emotion. “I’m so sorry you’ve been carrying this. You didn’t deserve it—not then, not now.”

Her words broke something in you, and the tears came harder, spilling down your cheeks in a torrent of emotion you couldn’t hold back. Jimin didn’t say anything more; she just pulled you into her arms, holding you tightly as you cried into her shoulder.

For the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

When the tears subsided, you pulled back, your face warm with embarrassment. “Sorry,” you mumbled, wiping at your cheeks.

“Don’t be,” Jimin said, her voice firm. “Never apologize for feeling what you feel.”

You nodded, your throat tight. “I just... I want to feel loved, Jimin. Really loved. Not judged or criticized or made to feel small. I want to feel... safe. And cared for. Is that too much to ask?”

Jimin’s hands cupped your face, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Y/N, you deserve all of that and more. You deserve to be loved, to feel safe, to be cared for in every way. And I want to be the one to give that to you.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. “Jimin...”

“I mean it,” she said, her voice trembling with sincerity. “I know it won’t be easy, and I know you’ve been hurt. But I promise you, I’ll be patient. I’ll prove to you every day that you’re worth loving, that you’re more than enough just as you are. You don’t have to do anything or be anything for me—you just have to be you. That’s all I need.”

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from pain. They were from the overwhelming warmth of her words, the kindness and love she poured into them.

“Why would you want to do that for me?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

Jimin smiled, her thumbs brushing away your tears. “Because you’re worth it. Because you’ve already made my world brighter just by being in it. And because... I think I’m falling for you.”

Her confession took your breath away, the weight of it settling in your chest like a warm glow.

Jimin took a deep breath, her hands still holding your face. “Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

Your heart swelled, a mix of fear and joy swirling inside you. But as you looked into her eyes, you saw nothing but sincerity and warmth.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Yes, I will.”

A radiant smile spread across Jimin’s face, and before you could process what was happening, she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours.

The kiss was soft and gentle, a promise in itself. It felt like the walls you’d built around yourself were finally crumbling, replaced by the warmth and safety of Jimin’s embrace.

When she pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her eyes closed as she whispered, “You’re safe with me, Y/N. Always.”

And for the first time in a long time, you believed it.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Life with Jimin was a series of small, joyful steps forward.

In the weeks following your first official date, the two of you settled into a rhythm. Weekends became sacred—a time for just the two of you. One weekend, you introduced Jimin to your favorite books, curling up on her couch as you read aloud together. Another, she taught you to make her grandmother’s favorite dumpling recipe, both of you laughing as you fumbled with the dough.

“You’re better at this than I thought,” Jimin teased, nudging you with her elbow as you successfully folded another dumpling.

“Natural talent,” you joked, feeling lighter than you had in years.

It wasn’t just weekends, though. Jimin had a way of weaving herself into your daily life in the most unexpected ways—sending you silly selfies in the middle of her workday, texting you goodnight every evening without fail, and making you laugh with her ridiculous dad jokes.

And you found yourself wanting to do the same for her. You started surprising her with little things—a playlist of songs you thought she’d like, a sketch of her dog that made her beam with delight, or simply a thoughtful text to brighten her day.

It was new, unfamiliar, but also wonderful. For the first time in a long time, you felt loved, cared for, and seen.

But as you were beginning to build something beautiful with Jimin, the shadows of your past refused to stay quiet.

It was a quiet Tuesday evening when your phone rang, the name on the screen freezing the smile on your face.

Mom.

You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the screen. But the part of you that still craved her approval won out, and you answered.

“Hi, Mom,” you said softly, your voice tinged with trepidation.

Her tone was sharp from the start. “So, you’re too busy to call your mother these days?”

You closed your eyes, the weight of her words settling on your chest. “I’ve been busy with work and... things. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” she snapped. “Do you even care about how I feel? Or is this just about you, as always?”

The accusations came quickly, each one sharper than the last. No matter how much you tried to defend yourself, to explain, she wouldn’t hear it.

“I gave you everything,” she said, her voice breaking into a sob. “And this is how you repay me? By running away, by abandoning me? You’re worthless. Selfish and worthless.”

Her words sliced through you, reopening old wounds you thought were healing. You managed to stammer out a weak “I have to go,” before hanging up, your hands trembling as you dropped the phone onto the table.

You tried to breathe, but your chest felt tight, each inhale jagged and shallow. The room seemed to close in around you, the weight of her words pressing down until you couldn’t think, couldn’t move.

Your phone buzzed on the table, but you didn’t look at it. You couldn’t.

--

Jimin frowned as she stared at her phone, her latest message to you still unread. She’d been texting you for over an hour with no response, and something about it didn’t sit right.

Normally, you’d at least send a quick reply, even if you were busy. But tonight... nothing.

She grabbed her coat, worry gnawing at her as she headed to your apartment.

When she arrived, she knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Her worry deepened.

“Y/N? It’s me,” she called out, her voice gentle but firm. “I’m coming in, okay?”

Using the spare key you’d given her just last week, she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The sight that greeted her broke her heart.

You were sitting on the floor, your back against the couch, your knees drawn up to your chest. Your hands were clutching your head, and your breaths came in shallow, rapid gasps. Tears streaked your face, and your whole body trembled.

“Y/N,” Jimin said softly, dropping to her knees beside you.

Your eyes darted to her, wide and filled with panic, but you didn’t speak.

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice calm and soothing. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

She sat down beside you, close but not crowding, her presence steady and grounding. “Can you try to breathe with me?” she asked gently, demonstrating slow, deep breaths. “In for four, out for four. Just like that.”

You tried to match her breaths, but your chest felt too tight, the panic refusing to release its grip.

“It’s okay if it’s hard,” Jimin said, her voice unwavering. “Just keep trying. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her words were a lifeline, pulling you back, little by little, from the edge. After what felt like an eternity, your breaths began to slow, the tightness in your chest easing.

Jimin reached out, her hand hovering uncertainly before settling on your arm. “You’re doing so well,” she said softly.

The warmth of her touch grounded you further, and the tears started again, but this time they weren’t from panic. They were from exhaustion, from relief, from the overwhelming mix of emotions you couldn’t untangle.

Jimin didn’t speak; she just held you, her arms around you like a shield against the world.

When the tears subsided, you finally found your voice, though it was barely a whisper. “She called me worthless.”

Jimin stiffened slightly, but her embrace didn’t falter. “She’s wrong,” she said firmly, her voice filled with conviction. “You are not worthless, Y/N. Not even close.”

You shook your head, the weight of her words still pressing down on you. “It feels like I am. Like no matter what I do, it’s never enough.”

Jimin pulled back just enough to look at you, her hands cupping your face. “Listen to me,” she said, her tone steady and unyielding. “You are enough. More than enough. Your mom... she doesn’t see it, but that doesn’t mean it’s true. You are kind, thoughtful, strong, and resilient. And anyone who can’t see that doesn’t deserve to have a say in how you see yourself.”

Her words pierced through the fog of doubt and pain, reaching a part of you that still believed in the possibility of hope.

“I don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

“You don’t have to figure it out alone,” Jimin said. “We’ll figure it out together. One step at a time, okay? You’re not alone in this, Y/N. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her unwavering support, her presence, it was more than you’d ever dared to hope for.

For the first time that night, you allowed yourself to lean into her, to let her hold you, to let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as broken as you felt.

And as Jimin whispered words of comfort and love, you felt a glimmer of something you hadn’t felt in years.

Hope.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

For the first time in what felt like forever, you stood at the edge of your past, ready to confront it.

The past few weeks with Jimin had been a revelation. She had shown you love and care in ways you hadn’t thought possible. With her, you felt safe enough to begin unraveling the tangled mess of your emotions and experiences.

But there was one thing you hadn’t yet faced: your mother.

Every time she called, you felt the same pull—the ache of wanting her approval mixed with the dread of her inevitable criticism. But you couldn’t live like this anymore. You couldn’t move forward with the weight of her words dragging you down.

And so, on a crisp Saturday afternoon, you decided it was time.

Jimin was by your side as always, sitting with you on the couch. Her presence was steady and reassuring, her hand warm in yours.

“Are you ready?” she asked softly, her dark eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt.

“No,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I need to do this.”

Jimin squeezed your hand. “You’re stronger than you think, Y/N. I’m right here, okay?”

You nodded, drawing strength from her unwavering support. With a deep breath, you picked up your phone and dialed.

It didn’t take long for your mom to answer. “Finally,” she said, her tone sharp. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten you had a mother.”

You closed your eyes, steadying yourself. “Hi, Mom. I wanted to talk.”

The words came out calmer than you expected, but your heart was racing.

“Oh? You have time for me now?” she said, her voice dripping with bitterness. “How kind of you.”

You fought the urge to apologize, knowing it would only validate her behavior. “I need to say some things,” you said instead, your voice firmer now.

“Say what?” she demanded. “How ungrateful you’ve been? How you’ve abandoned me?”

Jimin’s hand tightened around yours, grounding you as you pressed on. “No, Mom. I want to talk about how I feel. About how your words have affected me.”

Your mom scoffed. “Oh, here we go. Playing the victim now, are we?”

You clenched your free hand into a fist, forcing yourself to stay calm. “I’m not trying to play the victim. I just need you to understand that the way you’ve treated me—calling me worthless, criticizing everything I do—it’s hurt me. It’s made me feel like I’ll never be good enough.”

There was a beat of silence, and for a moment, you thought she might actually listen. But then she spoke, her voice trembling with indignation. “After everything I’ve done for you? I sacrificed so much, and this is the thanks I get? You’re so ungrateful.”

The guilt hit you like a wave, but Jimin’s gentle touch on your hand kept you steady. She leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, her silent reminder that you weren’t alone.

“I’m not ungrateful,” you said, your voice breaking slightly. “I know you’ve done a lot for me. And I love you, Mom. I always will. But I don’t like the way you treat me. I don’t like how I feel when we talk.”

“How you feel?” she snapped. “What about how I feel? Do you even care?”

Tears pricked your eyes, but you refused to back down. “I do care, Mom. That’s why I’m saying this. But I can’t keep sacrificing my happiness just to make you feel better. I need space. I need time to heal.”

“Space?” she repeated, her voice rising. “You’re abandoning me again. Just like you always do.”

“I’m not abandoning you,” you said firmly, though your hands trembled. “I’m asking for space. I’m asking you to respect my boundaries. I can’t keep living like this. It’s not fair to me.”

Her voice cracked. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You’ll regret this.”

Maybe you would, but you also knew you couldn’t go back to how things were. “I’m sorry if this hurts you, Mom. But I have to put myself first for once.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Finally, she spoke, her tone cold and distant. “Fine. Do whatever you want. Just don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart.”

The call ended abruptly, and for a moment, you stared at the phone in your hand, the silence ringing louder than her words.

Tears blurred your vision, but Jimin’s arms were around you before you could fall apart completely.

“You did it,” she murmured, her voice soft and full of pride.

“It doesn’t feel like it,” you said, your voice trembling. “It feels like I’ve just lost everything.”

“You haven’t lost everything,” she said gently, pulling back to look at you. “You’ve just taken the first step toward finding yourself again. And I’m so proud of you.”

Her words broke the dam inside you, and you leaned into her, crying into her shoulder as she held you. She didn’t try to fix it, didn’t tell you to stop crying. She just held you, letting you feel everything you needed to feel.

When the tears finally subsided, you sat together in silence, Jimin’s fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back.

“I feel so... empty,” you admitted.

“That’s okay,” she said. “Sometimes you have to let go of what’s hurting you to make room for something better. And I promise, Y/N, there’s so much better waiting for you.”

Her words stayed with you as the days passed. Slowly but surely, you began to feel lighter. The guilt and pain didn’t disappear overnight, but they began to fade, replaced by something new.

Hope.

--

One sunny afternoon, you and Jimin took Cooper for a walk in the park. The greyhound trotted happily ahead, his tail wagging as he sniffed every blade of grass.

The park was alive with the sounds of laughter and birdsong, the crisp autumn air filled with the scent of fallen leaves.

Jimin reached for your hand, lacing her fingers with yours as you walked. Her touch was warm, grounding, and you felt a quiet sense of peace settle over you.

As you rounded a bend in the path, you spotted three familiar faces waiting by a bench.

Minjeong waved excitedly, her grin as bright as the sun. Aeri and Yizhuo were beside her, both of them holding drinks from the nearby café.

“About time you showed up!” Yizhuo called out, her voice teasing.

“Cooper needed to inspect every tree,” Jimin said with a laugh, giving the leash a gentle tug.

You couldn’t help but smile as you approached them, the warmth of their welcome washing over you.

As you sat down with them, Cooper flopped onto the grass, content and happy. Jimin’s hand never left yours, her thumb brushing softly against your knuckles.

For the first time in years, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Loved. Supported. Happy.

And as you laughed with your friends, Jimin’s hand in yours, you knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful. a/n: this one was easier to write, probably because it hits a bit to close to home lol

[cc1306]

hopeless romantic! suna, who can’t stop zoning out, while you’re telling him all about the fight the twins got in during second period. he stares at you blankly, thinking about the way your nose crinkles from laughter as you’re talking to him. cute.

hopeless romantic! suna, who asks, “sorry, what were you saying?” in response to you waving your hand in his face and snapping him out of his daze. with a slight blush on his face, he turns his head, mortified that you caught him failing to pay attention.

“seriously…keep up!” you reprimand him with a half-serious frown and a pout, and he forces himself to pay full attention not wanting to subject himself to such embarrassment again.

hopeless romantic! suna, who stays up late that night facetiming osamu, as he rambles on about some argument he and atsumu got into earlier in the day.

“sunarin, pay attention! quit thinking about [name], i’m talking to you,”

“i wasn’t thinking about her,” he defends, knowing full well that he was wondering if you were still awake before osamu interrupted.

“right, and i’m not the better twin. you know, you should just confess to her before it’s too late. someone else might make a move before you do, then you’ll never get to be with her.”

osamu’s statement made suna think hard.

“…yeah well she doesn’t like me like that. we’re just friends ‘samu.”

“you two are insufferable. let me know when you grow a pair and finally ask her out,” osamu groans out, growing tired of suna’s crippling fear of rejection.

“whatever… im tired now, bye,” suna cut off osamu’s rant with a yawn, before he ended the call.

would she really go out with someone else?

today was the day. suna decided that today would be the day he put his fear to the side and told [name] how he felt. he felt his hands tremble every time she was near and his heart pound, as adrenaline surged through his body.

during your lunch break, you sat on the roof together, just the two of you alone. suna saw this moment as his opportunity, the perfect chance to try and confess his feelings to you. you were currently rambling to him again, telling a story he honestly tried to listen to, but it proved difficult considering his heart was beating out of his chest, as he thought of how you’d respond to what he was about to tell you.

“and then aran and kita told me-“

“[name], i-“ he interrupts you mid-sentence, but his voice got caught in his throat. he cursed himself for being so nervous, all he had to do was say the three words but nothing came out.

“yeah, what’s up?” you ask him, as you drink from your strawberry milk carton contentedly.

“i…umm… i have something to tell you,”

okay yes, good start. just tell her.

“okay…should i be worried?” you ask, starting to get concerned about how serious suna suddenly became.

you thought he’d been acting strange the past week, like how he’s been zoning out recently when speaking to you, or just staring strangely. you’re getting the vibe that somethings wrong with him. maybe he’s sick? maybe he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore? you have no clue what to think, so you chose to hear him out.

“no…well, maybe.”

he felt his hands getting clammy and nervously rubbed them on his trousers. his eyes darted everywhere, looking at everything in the room except back at your own expecting pair. he realised he’d been silent for too long - he needed to say something now.

“i have to tell you how much you mean to me. you might not realise it, but i’m obsessed with you. i think of you before i sleep, and you’re the first thing i think of when i wake up. you consume me, and i don’t know what i would do without you,” he blurted out, speaking so quickly you wouldn’t have been able to keep up if you weren’t listening so intently.

you sat there, stunned in silence. of all things he could’ve said to you, you certainly didn’t expect this. he took your silence as a signal to continue his speech.

“i need you in ways that surely can’t be healthy,” he chuckled, releasing a nervous breath.

“i-“

“you don’t have to accept it. i don’t expect you to tell me you feel the same, but i’d wait forever for you. if you want to be just friends then we will. but you have to tell me what to do. i like you so much. you can say you hate me. you can say you don’t feel the same. just tell me the truth.”

he couldn’t muster up the courage to look you in the eyes, so he kept his gaze trained to the ground, staring hard at the laces of his shoes.

“suna..” you started, forcibly sucking in a breath of air since you felt like all of it had been knocked out of your lungs.

“that’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me. thank you. i don’t now what i’d do without you either because i like you too,” you confessed as he rushed to hold you in his arms in a warm hug.

“thank God, i don’t know what i’d do if you rejected me,” he joked, covering up his anxiety with humour.

“i could never reject you,” you beamed at him in return. he felt his heart explode.

hopeless romantic! suna, who returned to last period that day with a smile from ear to ear, as he entered the classroom hand in hand with you by his side.

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Filthy

Summary- Eddie gets a stomach dropping call from you, asking to pick you up and take you home from the party you were invited to. As soon as he arrives, he can see just how awful your night must’ve been. *i was informed that there’s two definitions for what a ‘Pig Party’ is so for context, a pig party is where guys only invite ‘unattractive’ girls*

Genre- Hurt/Comfort

Warnings- mentions of sa (nothing explicit), awful frat guys doing awful things

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian @gvf23 @wheels-of-despair @goatsmcgee @flawiette

(if you’d like to be added to the tag list please let me know 🖤)

Word Count- 4.6k

“That’s not fair!” Grant whined from his spot at the lunch table, “Why do you get to go to some big college party and not us?!”

“Because,” You had said once again with an eye roll, “I was the only one that got invited. Besides, it’s supposed to be a date. I think?”

“You think?” Jeff asked after sipping from his can of Pepsi.

“Yeah, i mean the guy didn’t ask officially if i wanted to go as a date, he just said i looked like i’d fit in and he’d love to bring me.”

“Who even is this guy?” Eddie asked with a shrug, his arms crossed over his chest.

“His names Chris, i met him at the mall last weekend. Why, you mad he got to me first?” You said with a grin, noticing the dusting of pink on the apples of Eddie’s cheeks the moment you mentioned your college boys name.

“No, i’m asking because we’ve never met the guy, and to be honest with you… i don’t think he’d walk up to any random girl and ask them to go to some party with him.”

The table went quiet for a moment.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, your tone easily giving away your anger.

“Dude, i’d shut it if i were you.” Gareth said quietly to Eddie.

“No,” You said as you leaned back on your chair, eyebrows furrowed in frustration and your arms crossed over your chest as you waited for a response from Eddie, “I want him to explain himself. What, am i not pretty enough to get approached by college guys?”

“I didn’t say that!” Eddie argued.

“What is it then, are you jealous of him? Or maybe you’re just pissed because i got invited to a college party and you only show up when they need drugs?”

“Hey, quiet down (y/n).” Jeff whispered to you, trying his best to calm the situation down before it got any worse.

“No! I’m tired of you always being such an asshole whenever shit like this happens. You’re supposed to be my friend, you’re supposed to be happy for me when things like this happen but every fucking time you always get so pissy about it.” You stood up quickly, the metal legs of your chair screeching on the linoleum floor as you grabbed your bag, “Talk to me again when you decide to stop being a child.”

You hit his shoulder hard as you walked past, the boys staring as they watched you exit the cafeteria and enter the halls through the double doors. Gareth turned to Eddie with an annoyed look in his eyes,

“Again? Really?”

“What?!” Eddie yelled out, “What did i do?!”

“Eddie, she’s right. Every time something good happens to her, especially when it’s got something to do with some guy, you manage to get yourself bitched at because you’re too much of a pussy to actually tell her you like her.”

“I do not!” Eddie argued back. The raised eyebrows and frustrated stares were enough to tell Eddie that he really did do the same thing every time. Without even noticing. “…Do i?”

“Yes!” The three shouted in unison.

“That’s what happens when you don’t accept that you like her…” Jeff chuckled to himself, teasing Eddie as the other boys joined in a laugh.

“Oh please, like you guys don’t get jealous about stuff like that too.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but at least we don’t have to see and talk to the girls we like every day. You do. That’s why it’s different.” Grant joked, clearly trying to get a rise out of Eddie.

“Me and (y/n) are just friends. That’s it. Always have been… Always will be.” Eddie sighed.

“You hesitated.” Gareth chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re wrong, we’re friends. I don’t know why i get like that, i just can’t help it.” Eddie shrugged and slumped in his seat, so unsure of himself.

The thought of you being with him had never crossed his mind, but the signs were there. He thought back on all the other times he’d been an asshole to you over something like this, and the guys were right, it always had something to do with you being involved with some guy.

“Whatever man, if you gotta tell yourself that to be happy then so be it.” Gareth smiled and downed the last of the can of Dr. Pepper in front of him before standing to clear the table. The other boys followed suit, clearing the lunch table before grabbing their things and heading off to class.

Eddie was never the school type, but now he couldn’t keep his thoughts straight. All he could think about was you.

Did he like you?

He couldn’t. Like he had always said, you were just friends. Every guy gets a little irritated when their friend blows them off to hang out with someone else. Every guy gets jealous when hearing about how good a date was the night before. Every guy can’t help but get nervous when their friend asks how they look when trying on a new dress. Every guy gets tense when their arms get grabbed to keep together in the halls.

Didn’t they?

All he could think about was every single interaction the two of you had since you’ve met, and wether he wanted to admit it or not, every single thing was an indication of a crush. And he hated knowing that not only were the guys right to be teasing him about something so childish, but he hated knowing how you must’ve felt whenever he treated you badly.

The rest of the day was a blur.

He managed to finish classes, drive home, and lay in bed staring at the ceiling without any perception of time. He didn’t even notice Wayne calling into his room nearly 30 minutes ago to tell him dinner was ready.

It consumed him.

You. How he treated you. And how he shouldn’t have been stupid enough for even himself to not notice how much he really liked you. All he had hoped was that this was something he could apologize for. It was definitely deserved.

As Eddie sighed and finally sat up on the edge of his bed, he jumped in surprise from the sudden ringing of the phone in the hall. He checked the clock and saw that it was already 7 pm, and at this point Wayne would’ve been gone for work.

He stood and stretched, wandering into the hall and taking the phone off of the handset at its fourth ring.

“Hello?” He groaned out.

“Eddie?…”

His attention was grabbed immediately. As soon as he heard your voice whimper his name on the other end he was filled with a mixture of relief and concern.

“Hey, (y/n), are you ok?”

“No…” He could hear a faint sniffle, and the shakiness of your voice was indication enough for him to tell that tears had been shed, “Can you please come get me?”

“Yeah! Yes, of course, where are you?” Eddie frantically searched for his keys, pulling the spiral cord as far as it could go into his room as he grabbed his jacket.

“I’m at that party… 247 Stewart Street, it’s just past the mall…”

“I’ll be right there! Stay put ok? I’ll be there in less than 15, i promise.”

Eddie hung up the phone and quickly ran outside to the van, shoving the key into the ignition and pulling out as fast as he could onto the gravel road. He didn’t know what happened, but he did know that whatever happened to make you so uncomfortable and worried enough to call him of all people it must’ve been bad.

He sped out onto the road, not even bothering to pay attention to the stop signs unless he knew there was a cop waiting around the corner. He didn’t want to take any chances of anything else happening, or god forbid something else happening to you. Eddie was just thankful that he could tell exactly which house it was on the street.

It was a larger house near the end of the street, cars filled the driveway and out on the lawn he saw a few girls comforting each other as one stood in the middle. Her cheeks were red and her eyes filled with tears. Whatever happened inside, it couldn’t be good.

He parked the van in front of the driveway, blocking in the freshly waxed cars that were parked so neatly with his van. It may have been a shitbox, but it made a damn good barricade.

Eddie couldn’t help the anger bubbling up inside. This was more than just a little tiff happening and you needed him for backup, you gave him a cry for help and there was no way in hell he was going to ignore it. He took one last deep breath to calm himself, or at least to keep him from immediately throwing punches as soon as the front door opened.

His fist pounded on the door and he stood there and waited with his arms crossed over his chest. At least he knew that given his reputation he could be pretty intimidating. The door slowly opened and a college age looking boy opened the door with a smile and a half filled red solo cup in hand,

“Can i help you?” He smirked, looking Eddie up and down.

“Where’s (y/n)?” Eddie said sternly, more like a demand than a question for whoever this boy was and the gaggle of clones behind him.

“Oh!” He laughed, “Yeah, her. She locked herself in the bathroom down the hall,” The boy stepped back and held his arm out to welcome Eddie inside, pointing him in the direction of the door beneath the stairs, “She’s all yours.” He laughed before taking a swig from his cup.

Eddie wandered inside, not before ‘accidentally’ bumping into this stranger and causing whatever drink was left in the cup to spill all down the front of his polo.

The other guys inside were all the same. Drunk, rich, and certainly not paying any attention to any of the girls that they had asked to come to this party. Eddie noticed a few others sitting on the den couch together silently.

He leaned into the bathroom door and rapped his knuckles against it gently,

“(y/n)? It’s Eddie, you in there?”

Without a second to catch his breath the door swung open and your arms wrapped tightly around his torso. He couldn’t get a good look at your face, but your eyes were swollen and your cheeks red. You must’ve been crying in there until he had come to get you.

“Please take me home…” You whispered up to him without even as much as looking at him.

His arm went around your shoulder to guide you out the door, your face looking down at the ground, shielding yourself from the smiling and snickering faces of the boys around you. Eddie could feel your arms grip him tighter as one of them said ‘Bye (y/n)’ in a mocking tone.

To say he was pissed would be the least of it.

Eddie slowly walked you out to the van, opening the passenger side door for you and helping you inside. He had finally noticed how put together you looked, how your makeup had been smeared down your cheeks from the tears, how your dress was bunched up at the end in your hands. He needed to know what the hell happened inside to not only cause you so much despair, but the other girls too.

He walked around to the drivers side and slammed his door, sitting there in silence for a moment before turning over to you,

“What happened in there (y/n)?” You could hear how concerned he was, but having to repeat the events from earlier would’ve made you break down again.

“Nothing… Just please, take me home…” You said quietly.

“No.” Eddie said angrily, grabbing your attention, “Tell me what happened.”

“Eddie please…”

“(y/n), the last time we talked today you stormed off so pissed at me it seemed like you never wanted to breathe the same air as me. You call me, sobbing, telling me to come get you at a place i know you’ve never been to. That house is full of drunk assholes and every other girl here is in the same position you are, meanwhile they’re all inside being buddy-buddy and having the time of their lives. What did they do to you?”

He needed to hear it from you that you were alright, but your silence was only scaring him more. Your eyes shut tight as you took a deep breath, a few stray tears falling down your cheeks as you thought over the last hour once more in your head. It was so difficult to say, but you knew Eddie wouldn’t leave you alone until he knew what the problem was.

“(y/n), please.” He was pleading with you to speak, “Did they hurt you? Did they… touch you?”

“No.” You whimpered.

“Tell me.” Eddie wasn’t asking, he was demanding. Not for your own good, but for those assholes inside.

You took one last deep breath, your head resting in your hand as your arm propped you up against the passenger side door.

“Everything was fine at first. That guy Chris, the one from the mall, picked me up and kept telling me about how it was gonna be such a great night.” You paused for an eye roll and a quick wipe away of the tears starting to pool in your eyes again, “All the guys inside already had their dates there, and they’re all super nice girls, and we all really got along so we were with each other having a good time while the guys were in the other room. They said they were getting the last big thing set up for all of us.” Eddie listened so intently on every word, giving you all the time you needed and as many breaks to sniffle or recollect your thoughts as you needed, “When they called us into that main dining room the table was set up and in the middle of the room…” You paused and shut your eyes tight, shaking your head in disbelief that something like that had actually been thought out and planned by those assholes, “there was a pig that had a crown on it and they tied a name tag to it that said ‘Michelle’. It was a pig party and i guess she was the ‘winner’.” You said with air quotes, looking out Eddie’s window and seeing her crying in the yard, quickly pointing over to her. “That’s her. She’s really nice, she’s a freshman studying Biochem at their college.”

To say Eddie was enraged would be the least of it.

How dare they humiliate not only you, but all those other girls they had invited. Eddie knew how excited you were about this, and he can’t imagine how all those other girls felt when you finally realized the real reason why they were invited. Not one of them deserved to be treated this way, and he was shocked to see how pretty all those girls were. They were people too, and no one deserves to feel that way.

Eddie peered out his window and saw Michelle and her friends start to calm her down. Each one of them was dressed up so nicely, their hair and makeup done. They must’ve been getting ready for hours for this, only to be shot down the moment they set foot through the door.

He’d handle this.

“I’ll be back.” He said through gritted teeth, quickly reaching over and grabbing something from the glovebox before slamming the door behind him.

“Eddie…” You said with concern, not wanting this to turn into another night where the cops were called, “Eddie.” You followed behind him quickly, leaving the van after him.

He turned to you and grabbed your shoulders,

“(y/n). I can handle this.” Eddie looked into your eyes, and you could sense that though he wanted to rip them a new one, he wasn’t going to end up in handcuffs by the end of the night, “Tell the other girls they can wait in the van, there should be enough seats, and just wait for me. Ok?”

You took a slow, deep breath, nodding your head as you glanced over to Michelle and the other girls on the lawn,

“Ok. I’m trusting you to not get yourself in trouble again.”

“I won’t.” Eddie flashed you a smile that told you all you needed to hear. He can take care of this.

You parted ways, you wandering over to the group of girls on the lawn as Eddie walked back up to the front door. Just as he was about to knock, the girls sitting on the sofa inside had gathered and made their way outside, flinching a bit as they saw Eddie at the door. He offered them a sympathetic smile as they walked over to you and the group of girls on the lawn. Eddie put on his game face, and he was thankful his over the top acting from DMing so many sessions would finally pay off.

“Hey!” He said with a smile to the same guy that answered the door for him, “(y/n) just told me all about this party,” He leaned in with a cheeky smile still on his face, “you were really able to pull this off that easily huh?”

“Yeah man!” He replied, obviously drunk, “And it was so easy too! Who are you by the way?”

“Oh, I’m Michael,” Eddie was quick to think up a fake name, “she called me to come pick her up but honestly… It’s too funny to not call up my friends and tell them about it.” Eddie laughed along with Chris, happy that his act was going over so well. “Can i use your phone man? The whole school needs to know about this.”

“Go ahead, in the kitchen,” Chris hiccuped as he pointed down the hall, “should be on the wall. Help yourself go this stuff too man, you’re welcome to stay.” Chris chuckled, “And you know, if you want, i can put in a good word with the head of the frat for you. We definitely could use someone like you here.”

Eddie nodded as a quick ‘thank you’ and wandered through the maze of other sloppy drunks to the kitchen phone. He recognized a few faces from a couple of deals he made over the summer, he was just hoping they didn’t recognize him. As Eddie entered the kitchen he could see the pig still in the dining room, the wooden plank with Michelle’s name on it was still hung around its neck. He was disgusted, but if he got this far, he knew the rest of the plan would work out.

Eddie took the phone off the handset and quickly dialed in Gareths number, hoping he wouldn’t take forever to pick up.

“Hello?” Gareth said, confused as to who could’ve been calling him this late.

“Hey, it’s Eddie. Call up the guys and be at the diner in 20.”

“What? Eddie, it’s like 9 o’clock at night, why?”

“I’ll explain when i get there. Something happened with (y/n) at that party, and now i’ve got a van full of girls that need some knights in shining armor.”

“Done. See you in 20.”

Eddie chuckled quietly to himself as he turned his body to the wall, making sure no one could see him punch in the number of Hawkins’ police station. They picked up on the first ring, and Eddie smiled as he placed his hand into his pocket, palming the baggie he took from the glovebox.

“Hawkins Police,” Eddie recognized the voice from his various encounters and adjusted himself to fix his voice, “what is your emergency?”

“Hi,” Eddie deepened his voice enough to make himself sound more grown up, maybe then they’d take it a little more seriously, “there’s a house just down the street from mine and they’re having some kind of party? They’re loud, they’re obnoxious, and to be frank, i wouldn’t be surprised if they were smoking some funny stuff in there too. There was smoke billowing out the upstairs window like a chimney!”

“Thank you sir, what’s the address?”

Eddie grinned wide and relayed the fraternity address back to the officer on the other end. For someone with a decent amount of run ins with them before, talking to the cops was a lot easier than he thought. Especially when he wasn’t the one in trouble.

He hung up the phone and cleared his throat, holding the baggie tight in his pocket to keep it secure as he glanced around to find the perfect hiding spot for it. As soon as he spotted one of the letterman jackets across the back of a chair he knew it was the perfect obvious spot for one of these idiots to stash a bag of weed. And enough to get them put away, at least for the night.

Eddie made himself seem so comfortable in there he figured they wouldn’t bat an eye if he had been wandering for a bit. He approached the jacket, passing the pig through the dining room as it lay underneath the table snoring away. It was so much easier than he thought it would’ve been.

Just as quickly as he came in, he made sure to get himself out of there quickly. Not before putting on his little act again as he said ‘goodbye’ to the few of them that were able to slur their words out as best as they could. With all the liquor they’ve had combined with that weed stashed in the pocket of whatever poor asshole the jacket belonged to, he was certain justice would be served. Rightfully this time.

Just before Eddie made his way out the door, Chris gave him a wave and called him over, clearly drunk. As badly as he wanted to leave, he had to keep this act up. Eddie wandered over to him with a smile on his face, grabbing Chris’ hand as he stuck it out for Eddie to take,

“Leaving? Already?”

“Yeah, i gotta get home,” Eddie groaned, “thanks for letting me use your phone, this’ll be all over the school by tomorrow.” He said with a laugh.

“Perfect.” Chris said with a smile, doing his best to keep his words clear, “And remember, if you want, i’ll put in a good word for you next year. Make sure they don’t go to hard on you with the hazing.” He said with a wink before patting Eddie on the back and going back to fill his solo cup.

Eddie nodded and swiftly made his way out the door, seeing the girls no longer on the lawn calmed his nerves a little bit. He glanced back to the house as he walked to the van, smiling big to you as he climbed into the drivers seat.

“Let’s get out of here, i called the cops so they should be here any minute.”

“Oh god, what did you do?” You groaned as he started up the van, you and the girls in the back rows of seats quickly buckling in. You made sure to warn them of Eddie driving the moment they stepped inside.

“You know,” Eddie shrugged as he made a quick u-turn to leave the subdivision, “left them a little parting gift hidden in one of their jackets.”

“You didn’t.” You couldn’t help the smile slowly tugging at your lips. Good, they deserved whatever they have coming to them. “Eddie, these are the girls .” You motioned to the group of six girls in the rows behind you, “Girls, this is Eddie. He’s gonna take us all home.” The other girls behind you offered kind smiles and quiet ‘hellos’ as Eddie smiled and nodded his head to them.

“Oh yeah, about that, change of plans.”

You snapped your head back to face him with a look of confusion on yours and the other girls faces,

“What do you mean?” You asked him, and he could hear the slight worry in your voice.

“I called some friends up, they’re gonna meet us at the diner. I know it’s not the fanciest place,” He glanced up in the rear view mirror to look at the girls in the back of the van, “but i feel bad for how those guys treated you back there. Besides, you all got dressed up and you look good, i didn’t want that to go to waste.”

The girls smiled to themselves, and even you were blushing at how sweet it was of Eddie to still make sure you had the best night that you could. Especially under the earlier circumstances.

The drive to the diner was short, and as Eddie pulled the van in you saw Gareth, Jeff and Grant leaned up against Jeff’s car in the parking lot. They had seen you from the passenger side and gave their usual smiles and waves, and you knew from the way they had looked more put together than normal that Eddie had to have mentioned there would be girls involved. They approached the van as Eddie put it into park and he quickly stepped out, rushing over to the other side to slide open the back door for the girls before opening the passenger door for you.

“Thank you.” You said with a smile as Eddie held his arm out to assist. You turned to the girls as they started to slowly make their way out of the van, “Girls, this is Jeff, Gareth and Grant,” You said as the boys approached the van with smiles on their faces as each one of the girls made their way out, “they’re friends of mine, they’re very nice.”

Each of the boys gave them a kind smile and the girls gave them one back, trying their best to make sure that they still looked good after being at that party. But they were excited to know that there were at least a few more nice guys out there, and with you vouching for them they knew that it would be so much better being around them than with those frat boys.

As you all slowly made your way inside, each of the boys with a girl on either side of them, you trailed back with Eddie as they all got more acquainted with one another.

“Hey,” You grabbed Eddie’s forearm and gently pulled him back, “thank you, for everything tonight. I know i was kind of bitchy at school today…”

“No, don’t apologize! I’m sorry for always being so pissy, i guess i just don’t know what comes over me whenever you mention stuff like that.” He shrugged, and though he knew exactly why he always acted that way, he didn’t want to drop it all on you at once. After the night you’d had, you needed something else on your mind.

“You know,” You say teasingly, taking a step closer, “i think it might be jealousy.”

“Jealous?” Eddie laughed, “(y/n), i’m not jealous.” You stared him down for a moment with a smile on your face, your arms crossing over your chest. Eddie knew when he was found out. “Ok, fine. Maybe i might be just a little bit jealous. Happy?” He smiled.

“Very.” You shrugged, taking one last step to close the gap between you two, planting a quick kiss onto his cheek, “Come on,” You grasped his arm and tugged it as you made your way to the door, “You can make it up to me with a milkshake.”

[pearlywritings]

'Mom' to his 'Dad'

synopsis: just a collective bulleted drabble of all the thoughts I had about raising Yanqing together with Jing Yuan (yet somehow not being married (yet))

pairing: Jing Yuan x fem!reader

tw: fluff, domestic fluff, modern AU, CEO!Jing Yuan (because why not), dad!Jing Yuan, adopted son!Yanqing, from co-parenting to dating, from friends to lovers

word count: 1.8k+ words

CEO!Jing Yuan who looks hella fine in any clothes, but especially good in gray and carmine red suits. Who absolutely hates wearing ties, but has zero complaint when you, after staying the night before, wrap one around his neck. He feels soft when you lecture him, but in the end say he looks good, smoothing the lapels of his jacket, making sure his appearance is intact before turning around and hurrying to check on Yanqing’s preparations for school.

CEO!Jing Yuan who is a great leader, a nice boss and obviously a great catch, but who also hasn’t shown any interest in any suitor who’s attempted to woo him in the last decade. And he is 33 already. There have been many gossips swirling in the company, most potent about you and him, rumored to be in a secret relationship and raising a kid together. Well… they are not wrong on the second part.

CEO!Jing Yuan who after the passing of his two friends took their eight-year old son under his wing. Who had never dealt with children, especially this young, but who was lucky enough to have you - a dear friend since university, now a coworker, understanding and compassionate enough to leave your house at 3am to drive all the way to his residence after just one frantic call.

CEO!Jing Yuan who will never forget that night - you, running into the house after he let you in, with hair still messy and clearly first clothes you dug from the closet thrown on you. You looked like a cute ruffled sparrow, which quickly transformed into a mother hen when he better explained his troubles about a little kid - now his adopted son - and how he couldn’t get him to fall asleep at the new place. You too didn’t know much about handling children, but you were willing to try and the white-haired man couldn’t ask for more. Both called off work the next day.

CEO!Jing Yuan who since then has a room in his house that belongs to you - over the years it got filled with your personal things, redesigned (twice!) to your tastes, and has been occupied over the years for almost half of each passing week.

CEO!Jing Yuan who adores Yanqing - the boy proved to be feisty, but at the same time he was very sweet and nice to have around. Jing Yuan didn’t think twice about adopting the little guy the moment he learnt of his friends’ passing, turning from a godfather to just a father. He, obviously, didn’t force Yanqing to call him dad, making up his mind that even if it never happens - it’s totally fine. Due to the age the boy could understand why his parents weren’t there and Jing Yuan was making all he could to give him a good life, a normal life. He was so lucky that you tugged along.

CEO!Jing Yuan who almost cried when Yanqing absentmindedly called him ‘dad’. The ten-year old didn’t even notice it, but to the man it meant the world. He spammed you with messages, all in caps and with weeping emojis, and felt his heart about to combust when you sent him a response full of excitement, congratulating him. And then messaged about how you wished to hear the boy call him dad the next time you were around. Damn, he wished so too.

CEO!Jing Yuan, who loves having you around. He melts when he returns to the living room after going to refill the snack bowl only to see Yanqing cuddled closely to you, staring at the screen with his head tucked under your chin. His lips tug into a wide smile when the boy asks you if you can be the one to get him from school tomorrow instead of Jing Yuan’s personal driver (and you always say ‘yes’, even if it means you’ll sacrifice your lunch break). A pleasant shiver runs down both his and the boy’s backs when you walk into Yanqing’s room to check on the two doing homework and gently scratch their heads. Jing Yuan loves the domestic life the two of you created.

CEO!Jing Yuan, who encouraged his son when a couple of years later he wondered if it’s okay if he started calling you ‘mom’. The man told him to approach you the next time you were staying over and ask your opinion on the matter. Which the boy did, shyly reaching out for your hand and when you gave it to him with a smile, dropped a bomb. Jing Yuan remembers the slight hesitation flashing in your eyes, how you lifted him and got him into your lap to be on the same eye level with him.

“Baby, are you sure?”

“Mhm. You’ve always been there. You raise me. And I really love you and want you to be my mom.”

“Even if I am not your father’s wife?”

“Maybe you should become her? But either way, yes.”

CEO!Jing Yuan who now can’t get the boy’s words out of his head. Yanqing is right - you’ve always been there. For them both. His, no, your son is thirteen now - meaning that for five years you’ve helped your friend raise the boy - you were not obligated to be there for his special events, you weren’t paid to take days off and sit with him when he was sick, no one asked you to kiss his forehead and tuck him into bed, there were no rules that said that you have to share his hobbies… Yet, you did. Always. And the man has always been very aware of that, but only his son’s words seem to open his eyes - both of you are his parents. Maybe it’s a shame you are not spouses.

CEO!Jing Yuan who feels kind of bad - you’ve spent 5 years of your life being a family to Yanqing and, admittedly, the man himself. You’ve given up searching for a partner, starting a family of your own just to make sure that the kid who has no relation to you grows healthy and happy. He can’t help but love and appreciate you.

CEO!Jing Yuan who finds out that you’ve been having similar thoughts about him after that conversation with your son. He really didn’t mean to overhear, he just wanted to drop by your office at the beginning of the break and offer to go get lunch together, only to stop at the mention of his name that passed through the door. Apparently, you sought advice from Yukong - the head of the logistics department, a fellow mother and one of the few who knew what your family dynamic was really like. You are concerned that you took the place that wasn’t meant to you - you worry that Yanqing got attached to you so strongly that should Jing Yuan start seeing someone, the boy would be too stubborn to accept.

CEO!Jing Yuan, whose heart skips a beat, when the teal-haired woman asks you, why you are not entertaining the possibility that you can be the one the man seeks a relationship with. The same heart drops into his stomach when you sigh and tell her of him never showing interest. Things seem platonic to you. Well, not to your coworkers, it appears.

CEO!Jing Yuan and you, who freeze in your seats, when at the end of the meeting a new secretary of the man asks if ‘Mrs Jing will also attend the event’ hosted by one of the company’s biggest clients. Confused, you look at your friend, who's equally stunned (but secretly, realizing what kind of mistake it is, fights back a tiny spark of delight). It turns out that the secretary thought the two of you were husband and wife and for that reason gave you the man’s last name. If it’s not the sign, then what is?

CEO!Jing Yuan who goes clothes shopping with you - because you both indeed are going to be at the event and the man insists the two of you buy something matching. When you ask why, he slyly smiles and promises that it’s his way of ‘showing interest’. At first you don’t get it. But when your cheeks heat up he knows the message is clear to you. You do call him a scoundrel and he heartily laughs at that, but you still reach out to his hand and he readily interlocks your fingers.

CEO!Jing Yuan who notices you getting flirtier, one time in particular not leaving his mind. He was comfortably sitting on the sofa, having everything he needed to push through the last bits of work he had decided to take home (‘everything’ being just his laptop and a mug of steaming tea). That’s when you approached him from the back, laying your palms on top of his shoulders, gently kneading the tense muscles, working a low appreciative grunt out of his throat.

“Yuan?”

“Mmm?”

“You look stressed,” fingers dug a little rougher into his flesh and the man groaned, shoulder flinching. Only for his whole body to go rigid when your voice fanned right against his ear, ”I know how to fix it.”

And then you innocently proposed to go to the gym together once he’d be done. Honestly? For a stunt like that Jing Yuan wanted to bite you.

CEO!Jing Yuan who does get his teeth onto you as you are trying to escape the trap of his arms after waking up from the cute cuddling session with Yanqing. Only for the boy to be gone upon your awakening (and you hear some shuffling in the kitchen) and a very hot man - your friend? boss?? unofficial-but-everyone-thinks-you-are-together lover??? - pressing your back into his chest with arms firmly circling your waist. When you attempt to move away, he suddenly surges forward and clamps his mouth onto the exposed juncture between your neck and shoulder. And nibbles.

“Jing Yuan!”

“Hufshf,” he mumbles into your skin, before releasing it and burying his face into your neck. “Don’t shout, you’ll alert Yanqing, and I want some more time with you.”

“...why?”

“Why?” He muses, and you feel a smile pressed to the back of your neck. “Because I think we’d make great as a couple.”

CEO!Jing Yuan who comes to an agreement with you that for the longest time it felt like the two of you were indeed a married couple. You share a place, you do most domestic things together, you go to places together, you raise a son together. And together you come to a conclusion that courting is due.

CEO!Jing Yuan who absolutely shares Yanqing’s sweet anticipation for when you will be able to legally adopt him. Which means - marrying his father (just let this man put a ring on your finger already).

[scoutswritingcorner]

Careful, Baby On Board

Cursed Cat Alastor

TW: The Vee’s, biting, Cursed Cat Alastor being a menace

A/N: I had an idea of Cursed Cat Alastor being in a babybjorn carrier

The day had started out fine, you had to do a few errands around the hotel for Charlie and Vaggie. You were currently finishing eating your snack, Catastor (You originally named it Cat Alastor but that was too long) in your other arm as you ate. It was purring loudly, slowly blinking as if it was about to fall asleep in your arm. It’s paws carefully making air biscuits as it looked around the room ignoring you as you ate your snack.

Sadly every moment of peace is broken in the ever busy Hazbin Hotel as Charlie walks into the kitchen looking guilty as she wrung her fingers together smiling at you. You looked up at her, “Yes Charlie?” You asked as you took another bite of the very very off brand granola bar you had found whilst digging around in the pantry of the kitchen without Alastor finding out but Catastor did find out easily. “So…I have another errand for you cause Sir Pentious accidentally broke one of the bar taps and the part we need is more in town and you’re the only other one who can go..Alastor won’t go near the Vee’s tower..” She explained before smiling at you, opening her mouth about to say something else but stopped when you shrugged, “Okay.”

“..okay? That’s all?” She asked, disbelieving that you would answer so quickly, “Yeah..I’ll head out in a second.” You hummed, throwing your trash away as Catastor made a little growling noise in response. “Hush grumpy boy, we are going on an adventure.” You whispered out to him giving him a gentle kiss to his head which made him start purring more. Silly cat behaves much like your darling deer man.

~~~

After looking at what broke and taking a picture of it to make sure you could find the right things you had headed into town. The only store that was close was sadly in the Vee’s distract of Pentagram City which was dangerous for most of the hotel- Angel because Valentino and Alastor won’t go anywhere near modern technology and barely anyone in the hotel goes this far into pentagram city. So it was up to you, which you didn’t really care much for as you usually tuned everything out and stayed in huge crowds to avoid Vox finding you. The fucking creep trying to either flirt with you and get you to leave Alastor or he just watches you.

Straightening out your jacket to keep Catastor from growling at the amount of modern technology around and calm in the babybjorn carrier you had bought and specifically custom made for him so you could carry him around with you easier. While he was practically light as a feather, your arm would get all tingly after a while, he also tended to pick a fight with anyone who dared venture too close for his comfort. Sadly lady luck was not on your side on this fine hellish evening, first when you got into the store they were completely out of the part you needed and it wouldn’t be shipped in until a week later, so you had to call Charlie and get her decision on what to do, then Catastor didn’t like how the store manager was looking at you and decided to have an early lunch which resulted in you getting kicked out after you had negotiated a reasonable way for them to deliver the item to the Hotel and finally when you thought your day couldn’t get worse. Vox had to show his face to you as you finally got Catastor calmed down enough to get back into the carrier.

You fixed your jacket and gave Catastor a little kiss on his head before turning around to immediately run into Vox’s chest. “What the fuck.” You hissed out angrily glaring up at the tall tv headed demon, who only smirked at you. “What the fuck indeed, I didn’t expect you to be out and about this part of pentagram city!” He said loudly causing you to flinch, you already felt a migraine building behind your eyes. The low static that emitted from Catastor started to become louder and louder by the passing seconds as Vox went on and on about something you couldn’t care about.

“What…what the fuck is that noise?” He hissed out his screen glitching in anger, “My baby.” you replied quickly making the overlord stop in his tracks, “You have a kid?” He asked, watching you nod and open your jacket to show the bright red and black fluff ball that was currently hissing and jerking its head in anger. Bright red dialed eyes glaring Vox down, as it easily escaped the carrier it was in, saliva and foam escaping its fangs. “This is my baby boy and bodyguard while my darling Husband is off doing his own thing.” You replied looking at your nails, nonchalantly. 

Vox opened his mouth to say something but as his hand reached over to touch you that’s when Catastor pounced, claws digging into the Overlord’s chest and screen as he bit down anywhere he could. It was over in a flash as Vox had disappeared using his electricity and Catastor was standing where Vox laid before snarling and growling out wires in his mouth. You smiled picking him up, praising him as you took the red and blue wires out of his mouth. “Don’t need my bodyguard to get a stomach ache later.” You hummed walking back to the hotel.

Alastor is going to have a field day when he hears what happened with Vox. Maybe rub it in the overlord’s face at the next meeting.

[razrbladekiss]

MAPLE HAZEL | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: he’s grumpy, and you’ve got enough happiness for the pair of you. you visit joel’s little coffee shop every morning, and he can’t deny that he enjoys the monotony of life with you the other side of his counter.

PAIRING: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

WARNINGS: inspired by lorelai gilmore and luke danes, so with that info do what you will. this is full on golden retriever x black cat realness. fluffy. banter-y. dialogue-y. joel is grumpy but he’s sexy so we don’t mind. enjoy, my besties. not sure if i’ll do a part two, but i’ll let you know in due time, of course.🍁🫶🏻

SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s like he’s moving from muscle memory. Putting down a cinnamon roll and maple hazel latte—with two extra shots of espresso—in front of the third purple stool at his counter, is almost ingrained into his brain. He wonders if one day you’ll ever take him by surprise and order pancakes, or a chai tea.

And you will. Just not today.

“Cinnamon roll, please!” You call from the door as you bumble over the threshold, fighting with the belt loop on your coat that’s gotten stuck on a brassy handle for the third time this morning.

“Already one step ahead of ‘ya.” Joel gestures to the breakfast spread at the wooden bar, and you smile.

Despite being a closed-off, stupid-person-hating, placid-at-times, grumpy old man, you can’t help admitting that you enjoy Joel’s company and general presence in your life.

His shop appeared on Birch Grove one sunny Saturday morning about three years ago, and you haven’t skipped a day since. Aside from Christmas Day, you have religiously sat at Joel’s counter and shared the trials and tribulations of life in Dallas as an overzealous twenty-something every single day.

He’s a great listener. Or, at least, you think that he is. He never interrupts you, or speaks over you. Joel always lends an ear to listen, even if he doesn’t always say all that much in response to whatever it is that you’re elucidating or complaining about.

“Thank you.” Breathlessly, you say. You take a seat and dump your purse onto the counter. “Got a busy day today. I’ve got a meeting, and I’m meeting Maria for lunch, and I’ve got a date—“

Joel’s face heats up. He turns to face you, striving to stay indifferent.

“A date?” Nonchalant, he asks. He slings a dish-cloth over his shoulder, and lifts a brow. “Does this man know that he’s going on a date with you?”

You make a face while stuffing a fork-full of pastry into your mouth. He’s so smug. With his stupid flannel and stupid little hat, you just want to rip the complacency from his lips. But he’s a good man. Just likes to try and take you down a few pegs.

But he can’t. Because you’re stubborn. And a little annoying.

“No, I just thought that I’d show up at his house in the middle of the night—because I’ve followed him home from work a few times and know where he lives—and rip him right out of his bed just like the troll that Danny Devito plays in Its Always Sunny.”

Joel let’s out a little laugh, not bothering to argue that what you had just told him didn’t actually happen in that episode, but finding it funny nonetheless.

He nods his head to you. “What’s his name?”

“Marcus.” Exaggerating your heart-eyed gaze, you tell him. “I met him at Costco—“

“Ah, Costco. Where every great love story starts. First you’re bulk-buying toilet paper, the next you’re sharing a dollar fifty hot dog—“

“Ha ha, Joel, you’re soooo funny.”

“I try.” He says, flippant, pouring coffee into another customer’s cup when they appear at the counter for a refill. He lifts the carafe and gestures to your almost-empty mug. “Want another?”

Your gaze is set on your wristwatch. It’s seven twenty-nine, and you need to be at work for nine thirty. Mentally you strive to figure out how much more time you can spend at the cafe, before you’re having to leave to get there on time.

“Is it maple hazel flavored?”

Joel tilts his head, glaring at you.

You swig the dregs of latte in your mug, and then push the polka-dot ceramic across to him. “Please.” You say, shyly.

Joel busies himself with customers, and general business-owner things for a few minutes while you finish your cinnamon roll and coffee. You can’t help watching him.

Because he’s great. He’s very caring—though extremely stern at times—and you know that if you’re having a bad day, Joel is only a two minute and thirteen second walk away.

He feels the same, too. Kind of. He knows that you’ll be sauntering into his shop at some point every day, and finds himself looking forward to seeing your wide-eyed gaze and larger-than-life smile.

And though he won’t admit it in so many words, Joel has a soft spot for you. It hasn’t always been apparent—he thought that you were utterly insufferable and obsessive when he first met you—but he can’t deny the fact that his life would be very dull without you.

Even if you do have a tendency to try to get underneath his skin.

“Are you dating, Joel?”

He rolls his eyes.

“What? It’s a very normal question to ask somebody that hasn’t been in a serious relationship for an entire twelve months.”

He pulls the cloth from his shoulder and wipes at his hands. “You and I both know that I ain’t got no interest in settlin’ down with anyone. Not yet, anyway.”

“You were willing to with Tess.” Pushing things a little, you say. You lift the coffee mug to your lips when Joel opens his mouth to chastise you, but he can’t.

He can’t because you’re right. He can’t because he wanted to, once upon a time. Before Tess walked out of his life—not long after you started frequenting his shop—he wanted it all. A wife, kids, the white picket fence that his parents had back in Austin when he was a kid.

But it doesn’t always work out that way, and Joel has learned to live with the idea that if it’s too good to be true, then it most likely is.

“I can set you up with someone—“

“Not happening.” He says. “Last time you sent me on a blind date, the girl asked me if I was into pegging.”

You giggle. “Well? Are you—“

Joel says your name, glaring pointedly.

“Sorry.” Instinctively, your lips are set into a straight line. “But I can totally do better, this time. I know this girl—she works at this law firm—and—“

“Not interested.”

“Okay.” You smile, tight-lipped. You lift your mug, striving for your third cup of coffee this morning.

Joel pours the liquid gold into the cup, before he’s telling you that he’s not going to be giving you another for fear of you ricocheting off of each wall in his place.

“You’ll turn into a cup ‘a coffee one day.”

Nodding—with a completely content smile—you say; “least I’ll be happy.”

“You’re always happy.” Joel mithers to himself, turning away. It’s one thing that he admires about you, though loathes at the same time.

Endless optimism and positivity is only something that he can long for, because he’s simply not capable of it. It baffles him how you are, especially when he’s—on occasion—so rude to you. So miserable, and cold, and completely undeserving of your friendship.

He likes that you’re so forgiving. That—even after he accidentally offended you last summer when making a comment about your then boyfriend—you can never hold a grudge, especially when it comes to him.

Because you both hold one another on a pedestal so high, neither can seem to do anything to tear themselves down. And Joel really enjoys your daily routine. That’s why he’s never not in the shop.

“You got any weekend plans?”

“Never do.”

You stretch out your arms—intertwining your fingers as you do to make them click—and offer a small smile when he cringes.

“You wanna catch a movie?” Shirking the idea that you have a date tonight—with a man who you really aren’t all that interested in, you’re just being nice—you propose.

Joel’s heart starts to beat at a tempo that’s noticeably quicker than usual. Not a lot, but it’s certainly faster.

“I think that the theatre downtown is showing the original Beetlejuice, on Saturday.”

He nods, approving. “I—uh—I’ll have to get someone to cover—“

“I’m sure you can ask your brother. Or maybe Maria?”

“I ‘spose.” Reluctant, he says. “But what about Michael? What if he wants a second date?”

“Well, his name is Marcus. And if he wants a second date—which I doubt he will—then he’ll just have to live with the fact that I have plans with a friend on Saturday night.”

He hopes that you can’t see him blush.

“Won’t it be weird?”

“Why?”

“We hardly speak outside of the shop.”

“God, Joel.” You throw your head back, laughing. “We’re the same people wherever we are. And we’re going to the movies—not a lot of talking takes place there, hon.”

His nostrils flare at your sarcasm, but mainly at the little pet name. Joel knows that you’re sweet—that you often use those terms of endearment when speaking with those that you care about—but it does something to him.

Something that he does not like.

“You can either come, or stay here and be miserable because you have no social life, or no girlfriend, or no other friends aside from me, your brother, and your brother’s wife—“

“Alright, fine.” Joel stops your miniature hate-train, and puts his hands against the counter. Your eyes zone in on the veins embellished within tan skin—how prominent they are when he’s fronting irritation—and let out a small sigh.

He’d be a lot more handsome if he smiled more, you think.

“So.” You paw at your purse, pulling it off the wood. “I’ll let you know what time the showing is, and we can make plans around that.”

Joel rounds the island and follows you as you pad toward the door, veritably sweating. “Plans?” He asks. “You never said nothin’ ‘bout plans. I thought we were just gonna catch a movie?”

“We are.” You tell him. “But we need to buy snacks, and grab dinner before we go—“

“Now you’re just describing a date.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m describing hanging out with a friend, Joel.”

“A friend?”

“An acquaintance…?” Testing the waters, you ask. Your eyes squint a bit, awaiting his retort.

But he just smiles.

“A friend.”

You smile back. Bigger.

“Perfect.” Your purse is slinging over your shoulder, and you pull your jacket to close so that the darned loops don’t get stuck on the door handle. Again. “I can’t wait.”

“It’ll be…nice.”

“Jeez, Joel. At least try to sound enthused.”

His hands shoot up in defense. “I am. Just have a hard time showin’ it.”

Your head nods. “I know. I’m only kidding. It’s nobody’s fault that you’re the human equivalent of Oscar The Grouch—“

“Alright, get out.” He holds open the door for you, smiling tight-lipped as he watches you leave. “Enjoy your meeting. And your lunch. And your date.”

You chuckle, thanking him with another bright smile.

“See you in the morning, Joel.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You step onto the sidewalk—that’s festooned with red and orange leaves as the tree above starts to shed its skin—turning to wave at him. “See ‘ya, kiddo.”

[sanipoyo]

“JUST GIMME MY MONEY” TREND ON THEM

note - my hero academia, fluff, this is an example of the trend if your unfamiliar with it!

you, DENKI, and mina gathered around in a circle to trick him. you explain the trend and to your surprise, he’s never seen it before. you and mina shoot each other sinister glares, excited to prank kaminari after all the pranks and jokes he’s pulled on the two of you. mina volunteered to start it off and you quickly called dibs on going second so the prank would go as planned. “just.. give me my money!” mina exclaimed and it was followed by cheering from you and kaminari. you pinched your fingers together and hesitated a little, “… just gimme my mo-NEY!” you said in a sing-song tone which was followed by cheering from denki and mina. kaminari prepared for his part and mina held her breath trying not to laugh, he closed his eyes and inhaled dramatically, “ju- ju- just.. give me money”, he began to clap and jump but then realized no one else was cheering. his lips curled into a frown and you and mina busted out laughing. “you guys are mean”, he said walking away from the two of you who continued cracking up at him.

you and mina were looking for your next victim for the prank and came across the perfect person. TODOROKI was just minding his business and the two of you approached him and you asked if he could be in your video for theatre class. he agreed and you explained to him what the whole thing was and he understood. you told him he had to go last so he could really grasp the idea of it and agreed. “just gimme my moooney!” mina started, and everyone clapped and cheered, shoto was definitely dry and lacking excitement but it was okay. “just give me my money!”, you said with what sounded like an italian accent? todoroki thought he was for sure about to take the cake with his part, you and mina looked at each other, already feeling the laughter bubble up in your throat. “can i please have your money?” shoto said proudly with a small smile on his face. you covered your mouth, trying to hold in your laugh as the two of you stared at him. he looked at the both of you confused, “did i do it wrong?” you and mina both began laughing uncontrollably as he stood there looking lost.

TAMAKI stood besides you as mirio explained how the trend goes. he was unsure about it because of you and neijre’s non-stop giggling, but he went along with it anyways. mirio did it big for his part, shouting “give me my money!” which caused amajiki to jump a little due to the unexpected enthusiasm. neijre was up next, she cleared her throat and got serious, “just gimme ma money!” she said in a demanding tone and you all cheered. you decided to do an all might impression during your turn (it sounded really good) and everyone laughed and cheered. when it was amajiki’s turn, he gulped nervously and tried to be as passionate as he could, “just give me my money”, he said awkwardly and you all looked at him. he immediately turned around and muttered how he was ‘going home’. of course, y’all apologized immediately but you guys still couldn’t contain your laughter at his response.

midoriya showed you the trend and insisted on doing it to BAKUGO, to which you agreed. at lunch time, deku called katsuki over and he came over, annoyed that his lunch was interrupted. “okay kacchan, we have this.. project and we need you to recite what we say and do, can you do that?” izuku bluffed, he knew bakugo wouldn’t do it if he was told that it was a silly tiktok trend. he refused at first, but caved when he was bribed with two packs of spicy instant ramen. “okay, so i’ll start, then deku will go, and then you, got it?”, you asked and bakugo scoffed at you, “yeah yeah, i’m not stupid.” you started it off and bakugo was hesitant to cheer for you at first, but he ended up just clapping with a scowl on his face. he did the same for midoriya, clapping and unenthusiastically saying ‘woooo’. it was his turn and he didn’t put any effort into it, just a simply “give me my money” as he slowly clapped, which was followed by silence and blank stares. this obviously infuriated him because he did exactly what you guys told him. he began yelling at you two and y’all had to hide the laughter so he wouldn’t blow you up.

Ⓒ all published work belongs to sanipoyo! do not copy/plagiarize.