#anyway I’m in a cafe trying to get work done but now this is in my head and I’m panicking but I know logically that I can’t do anything rn

[whoachillbro]

TMI

[yestrday]

— YANDERE! MALEWIFE! GENSHIN AU part one | two | three | four

⇢ alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno

introducing ! at the altar decorated by the blooming lotus flowers, your wrist is bound to your husband with a red string and a promise of togetherness. while the people dance and sing in celebration of the newlywed, his eyes are on you and you only— possessive through and through, even in parabandhana.

[ surpriseeeeeeee yea you did not expect this did you yeah neither did I. i just sat on my computer and decided to be productive. also did not include baizhu and mika for now cuz I got lazy. ]

warning ! yandere behavior, drúgging, manipulation, mentions of locking you away and múrder

— ADMONISHING INSTRUCTION. alhaitham | الهيثم

[ “sure, sure, i’ll clean up after you go. hm? i’m not being lazy at all, just enjoying my peace and quiet.”] 

⇢ my boy is living the dream life. no nosy seniors, demanding bosses, and curious co-workers. just him and his hardworking partner and the freedom to do his research at his own time. when you’re around, he tends to slack off (though he denies it) but he does his part of the chores anyway, so you don’t really have any complaints. he’d already been living the cushy life before, but now this lifestyle is more than comfortable.

⇢ he helps you out with your work when he sees you struggling, and he lets you use him as a soundboard to work out solutions. sometimes even lets you complain. keyword: sometimes. most of the time he’ll distract you with a movie or just bring you to the bed so the two of you can read a book together. unfortunately, his tolerance towards whining is very low (reminds him too much of a certain blonde), but he still loves you enough that he’s willing to let your stress out through other means.

⇢ marriage seems to have made him a bit of a romantic, though he’ll tell you that he’s stayed the same as he was when he was still your boyfriend. whenever you’re squinting at your computer screen in frustration, you’ll be caught offguard when he presses a tender kiss to your temple and sets down a mug of coffee next to you. or while you’re talking about something or another as you eat, he’ll clasp your hands in his and press a chaste kiss to each knuckle. these gestures has you blushing and stammering all the time, reverting you back to the naive student you were when you met him. this makes him a bit smug, so you often hit him in embarrassment.

⇢ he would never look down at you. marrying you means he has acknowledged you his equal, and to be fair he doesn’t really have a habit of looking down on others. however, when he sees some pesky flies fly a bit too close, he often gets too full of himself. someone trying to smooth talk you at the cafe? haitham’s not one for pda, but he’ll wrap a sturdy bicep around your waist and watch as the poor thing trembles from his gaze. 

⇢ haitham doesn’t always tell you this, but he admires you for a lot of things. but sometimes you get a bit too… irrational, and he knows that he has to be the one to bring you down sometimes. you’re not a kid, so you should know better. besides, haitham’s always been the more rational between the two of you. sometimes bordering on…heartless, but you never tell him that. you don’t have the heart to.

⇢ he’s often the decision-maker, most of the time not even asking you what you want. he says it’s not about want, he has to take the rational decision for the both of you. you’ve always been a little… dull. it’s an endearing trait, but it’s something that has to go away as you both age. he sees the hurt flash in your eyes when he tells you this, and he thinks he can make up for it with a gentle kiss between your pretty eyes. he loves you like his equal, really, but sometimes (most of the time) you need a good talking down to.

“so you’ll continue to let your brother exploit you, despite everything he’s done to you in the past?” haitham shuts his book and stares at you with a seemingly bored gaze. “you know you don’t need to give them that solicitation, right? he’s not worth it.”

“it– it’s not about him, haitham, believe me!” you plead with him. “i’m, i’m doing this for his wife, okay? she doesn’t deserve to deliver a baby in his dingy apartment with no professionals around. it’s not fair! just because my brother was a díck doesn’t mean she deserves the cold shoulder too! have some compassion for once!” he rolls his eyes and gets up, towering above some good inches. his eyes look down at you, but his hand rests heavy on your shoulder as if trying to calm you down. “it’s not about compassion, dear. it’s about being rational. once your brother sees you softening, he’ll start asking for more and more and more and well, we know what kind of person you are.” you open your mouth to retort, but he shakes his head. “you’re too soft, [y. name]. chasing around the affection of others… you don’t have to do that anymore.”

[ “this is for the both of us. i’m sure you can’t tell now, but sooner or later, you’ll thank me.” ]

— EMPYREAN REFLECTION. kaveh | کاوه

[ “you’re the — hic!— the best thing’s that ever happened to me! of– of course i’m crying! i’m not heartless!” ] 

⇢ for kaveh, your marriage was both a blessing and a cause of distress to him. a blessing, of course, because what sane man would not want to get married to you! his darling, light of his life, the one who tolerates his flaws more than any other person on teyvat! but at the same time, he can’t just let you shoulder his burdens! he can’t give you the luxury you deserve to have, you don’t deserve to be saddled with his debt, it’s– it’s just not fair!

⇢ with kaveh’s sense of aesthetics and talent for architecture, you two will have the prettiest home around! it is a must for this architect to gift you with the prettiest home you’ve ever laid eyes on. sure, he can’t give you the grandiose mansion that you deserve even with both of your savings joined, but a master architect will make the most of what he has. this is the place where he’ll make memories with you, where you’ll grow a family and your chi… children (?!??!!!!) will live. it has to be as beautiful as you.

⇢ complains like you’d never believe. he’s always been chatty, but he gets even chattier after a disagreement with a client or a run-in with a certain someone or when he hears whispers of your horrendous workplace. to anyone else, his overdramatic flair might be a bit too much to handle, but you can’t help but listen with amusement as your husband drones on and on and on and embellishing his rants with over-the-top remarks. nevertheless, in the case that you do get weary, just press a kiss on his lips— it will surely leave him an incoherent mess in no time.

⇢ a bit too eager for your praise. it’s not like people don’t praise him all the time, but it’s only your approval that he cares for. when he makes a meal that he’s proud of, he’s squirming nervously in the seat across you as he watches you take bite after bite. when he finished his part of the chores, he tends to be a bit clingy with you as he tries to fish for compliments. it’s your choice to cave in so easily or play around with him, but when you do utter a compliment, know that you’ll be left with a gooey pile of mush cuddling into you.

⇢ on the other hand, kaveh absolutely cannot handle fights with you. fighting is a normal thing between couples, but he gets so absolutely wrecked it’s unreal. your look of disappointment, the glare you gave him, the fed-up sigh when you push him away and say that you need some time away from him… they all drive him insane. he curses himself, wondering why’d he have to go and open his stupid mouth and fuck everything up. you’re not wrong, never wrong, and it should be him to take the blame. the longer the fight, the more his wellness and self-confidence cracks. it’s a common sight to see him groveling on the ground, for your forgiveness, begging for you to notice him again. the sight is so pathetic that you can’t bear to look away.

⇢ the most insecure husband to ever exist and grows even worse with every fight you two might have had in the past. anyone who approaches you has him tensing up and tightening his grip on you, but a raised brow from you has him reluctantly loosening his grip and shamefully looking away. he’s plagued with thoughts of you leaving (because why would you stay with a wreck like him?) and overthinks every friendly gesture you give towards anyone who isn’t him (is that how you smile with someone who isn’t a complete fool?). he’s a pushover and craves your love and attention the most. if you love being an asshole and having someone completely around your finger, there’s no perfect husband to get more than kaveh.

“kaveh…” you start hesitantly, brows furrowed as you put a hand on his shoulder. “kaveh… there’s really no need for you to do all this.” but despite your gentle words, it only makes kaveh flinch and bury his weeping face even more into your chest. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he keeps whispering with a voice ragged from the amount of apologies he’s repeated. “i won’t do it again. whatever i’ve done please just forgive me. i can’t, i can’t stand it!” he looks up at you and that pretty face of his is ruined with tears. “please come back to me. you don’t have to sleep at that inn anymore. i can’t handle you not being with me anymore.” your grip on his shoulder tightens, and your expression seems to twist between a grimace and guilt. the only reason you stayed at an inn was because you were a coward, and you couldn’t handle watching kaveh break down as he beats himself up for a mistake that you caused. this fight was your fault to begin with, but the only one ruined was the innocent one. “i… i forgive you, dear,” you hushedly whisper, with the audacity of a man who did nothing but take advantage. “i forgive you. no matter what you’ve done.” and when he brightens up and smiles so prettily, your heart squeezes in your chest as he pulls you into a kiss sweeter than you deserve.

[ “wh… what are you apologizing for…? there’s no need to look at me like that…! you can blame me all you like!” ]

— VERDANT STRIDER. tighnari | الطغنري

[ “once again, i told you not to eat your boss’ baking! no, i don’t care if they looked nice! they. are. poisonous!” ]

⇢ he’s more at ease now that he doesn’t have to tolerate idiots who think eating poisonous mushrooms recklessly count as experiments or co-workers who tell him stupid jokes all the time. it’s a less stressful environment now… at least, that’s what he thinks. so why do you keep coming home barely alive?! you’ll find tighnari fussing over you and nagging at your office’s poor working environment.

⇢you’ll have the prettiest garden in the whole neighborhood, if not the whole world! the research data he can acquire from the plants in his backyard is limited, so it’s mostly a hobby of his. of course, he doesn’t just grow whatever there! there’s tons of medicinal herbs growing there and there’s a shed you both built where he can experiment wherever he likes. whenn you’re off work, you like to idle the time away in the garden while tighnari is hard at work on another of his concoctions. simply admiring his focused face is enough to put the stress of work behind you, and you think it’d be prettier if you tucked a flower behind his ear. but you never learn, do you? he launches off to another lecture about why you shouldn’t pluck flowers thoughtlessly while you daydream about his pretty face.

⇢ please please please don’t bring him to any work parties, lest you want to see the entire world burn. he still has that dry sarcasm that you oh so love, but he’s ruthless when it comes to your boss and your more unpleasant co-workers. if any of them try to act chummy with you, he immediately raises a brow and gives them the side-eye. he combats whatever fake-ass comment they have with a dry retort, leaving you panicking and trying him to stop it. but no one stops tighnari in verbal combat, and before long he’s revealed your boss’ and co-workers' vulnerabilities and have them deflating like a balloon.

⇢ tighnari always knows how to make the perfect brew, his teas always the perfect blend of both taste and remedy. it’s too bad though, that you always fall asleep before you can manage to finish a single pot. whenever you awake from a tea-induced slumber, your body feels strangely heavy but you can’t complain about the sleep. your husband is always the first thing you see from these naps, his fluffy tail wrapped around your legs and his big eyes staring intently at your face.

⇢ whenever he mixes in the drugs in your food or tea, tighnari’s tail swishes back and forth as he begins thinking of your cute expressions while you’re half-sober. sometimes he doesn’t put the usual dose and instead just halves it, just to see you flailing to get a grip on your senses and reaching out to your oh-so-innocent husband for help. he often chastises himself for this… dirty behavior, but the devil in his mind gleefully reminds him that this counts as research. the test subject just happened to be his trusting partner for life.

⇢ tighnari isn’t above imprisonment. it’s less for the thought of protecting you and more for his personal benefit. he likes to tell himself this is strictly research, but he can’t deny the awestruck look on his face as he greedily eats up every expression of your drugged face. when you grasp onto his clothes and lean on him for support… it makes him shudder with delight. you’re so cute when your system is laced with drugs, and even cuter when you look at him like he’s your entire world. he wants you to rely on him… and in turn, he wants to abuse that over reliance.

“you look better like this,” he murmurs as he brushes your freshly bathed hair. your figure is slumped in your chair like a doll, which isn’t far from the truth from how he handles you like one. he holds you gently, like porcelain, but you don’t react. you are too knocked out from the dose he had slipped into your tea awhile ago. he leans into your face, tutting at the dark circles under your eyes. “look at this… clear neglect of your health. i keep telling you to sleep, but you never listen to me, do you?” he sighs before focusing his attention back to your hair. “you’re so stubborn sometimes, you know. i barely know what to do with you.” he spends the next few moments in silence, rubbing cream into and ointments into your face. you smell slightly of lemongrass now, thanks to the bath he’s given you. tomorrow when you wake up, you will marvel at the softness of your skin and the clearness of your mind, before you throw yourself into another week of overwork. like always. tighnari regrets giving you the sleeping drug now. maybe he should’ve added a dose of the aphrodisiac drug he’s just finished. with the way his feline eyes zero into your blissful face and the eager swaying of his tail, he can just barely hold himself back now.

[ “aaah, i’ve run out of your meds again. oh, don’t you worry, i’ll make you some more. it’s nice how your body is so… receptive to my medicine ♡” ]

— JUDICATOR OF SECRETS. cyno | κύων 

[ “... we’re married… …what? i honestly didn’t think i’d come this far.” ]

⇢while there’s no other man you could imagine to spend the rest of your life with, you’re inwardly groaning about the amount of dad jokes you have to put up with later on in life. sure, you love cyno’s goofy lil personality, but you think you can only take too many stupid jokes before you go crazy. you voice this concern to cyno, who just gives you a reassuring hand on your shoulder and says he can handle you just fine if you do. you’re not quite sure what this implies.

⇢ quite sulky, but he refuses to own up to the fact. sometimes you get a little distracted with one of the neighborhood children, start chatting up one of the kind neighbors, or meet one of your co-workers. you tend to get a little bit distracted by them, and while cyno believes that he’s not overly bothered by this, he admits that he is a little bit miffed about you not paying attention to them. he also gets pouty when work starts taking up of your time and you start to neglect him, so expect him to just shut the laptop close and demand you to eat dinner with him without rushing to get your job done. 

⇢ he used to scare the neighborhood kids away with just one look and you always had to comfort him and pat him on the back in sympathetic understanding. “maybe you’ll get them next time,” you had joked, handing him an ice cream as he sulked on the park’s bench. “one of your jokes should do the trick.” you really shouldn’t have suggested that, because after another trip to the park he stared those kids down with his same stoic expression and cracked one of the corniest jokes known to man. every kid looked at him like he was stupid. now no one takes him seriously. well, at least they like playing with him now???

⇢ overprotective, like over overprotective. he knows you can handle going outside the house on your own, and hell, he might have no qualms with your workplace. but the more you complain, the more paranoid he gets until he’s staking out the site for himself. touchy co-workers? cruel bosses? he could easily have their corpses fed to the dogs. he is a protector of justice, after all, and what is justice but not killing those who lay a hand on their partner?

⇢ it’s not very easy to just push him over the edge, but he can and has the will to lock you away. it’s the modern world, no one’s going to have it out for a salary worker slaving day in and out for a corporation, but still. he’s made plenty of enemies when he was still in the force and there’s a paranoia eating at him whenever you go out of the front door. when he does lock you away, he’s as gentle as he can be, even with the stench of blood all over him. this is all for your sake after all, and he couldn’t bear to see you hurt when he had the power of protecting you.

“cy,” you huff in exasperation, looking up from your laptop as he glares down at you from behind it. “what in the world are you talking about? they’re my co-worker, my superior. you can’t just tell me to stop talking to them. i need their help!” “what help could you possibly need from them when you have me?” he huffs back, crossing his arms. “i’m telling you. they’re dangerous. i… i just know it, okay?” “what could a retired general possibly know about handling excel sheets?” when his face falters, you sigh and shut the laptop closed. “look, i know you just want to protect me and i appreciate that, really. but come on, cy, don’t be unreasonable.” the pressed line of his lips tells you that he has something against being called that, but you press on. “the company does background checks on their employees. it’s safe, i promise.” you press a kiss on his cheek and smile at him. “sit here and calm yourself down, okay? i’ll handle dinner tonight.” he watches your back as you disappear into the kitchen, humming a bright tune that offsets the stormy look in his eyes. he could tell you all about his time in the workforce— the violations he’s made, the blood on his hands, and the enemies he’s made— but he won’t. not if it means breaking this beautiful life he’s created with you. but that’s okay, that’s fine. he’s been trained to adapt to the situation and to work with the shadows.

[ “even if you don’t have a care in the world… i’ll be right behind you. wherever. whenever.” ]

[lxvsiick]

ICED COFFEE | JAKE SIM X READER

PAIRING: down bad! jake sim x nonchalant! fem! reader

SUMMARY: Jake visits the cafe every day to study but to only order drinks and watch his crush work.

GENRE: cafe, crushing, down bad jake, fluff

WORDCOUNT: 1.3k

A/N: I thought of the idea yesterday but wrote it today while thinking about coffee -- i really want some coffee right now but idk if im willing to walk through my campus for that ... um anyways, enjoy!

‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆

The hum of conversation and the clatter of mugs filled the cozy coffee shop, sunlight filtering through the windows as customers quietly worked or chatted. Jake sat at a table near the counter, his textbooks sprawled open in front of him, but his eyes were far from the pages. Instead, they were glued to Y/n as she moved behind the counter, efficiently taking orders and preparing drinks.

He pretended to scribble something down in his notebook, glancing up every few seconds just to watch her pour a latte or chat with a customer. He’d been here for hours, supposedly to study, but all he’d done was order drinks he didn’t even want and admire the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she concentrated.

“Dude, you haven’t touched your notebook in over an hour,” Heeseung suddenly said, sliding into the seat next to him.

Jake jumped, startled out of his trance, as his six friends filed into the coffee shop, smirking knowingly.

“What are you guys doing here?” he muttered, trying to sound casual as he shut his notebook.

Jay raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “We’re here to witness this trainwreck.”

The others snickered, pulling up chairs around his table. They were grinning, fully aware of why he was there in the first place. Sunghoon across from him leaned in, smirking. “How many drinks have you ordered so far just to keep watching her?”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I’m just...you know, getting some studying done. That’s all.”

“Right,” Ni-ki drawled, glancing over at the counter where Y/n was working. “And totally not here because you’re down bad for her.”

The group broke into quiet laughter, and Jake shot them a warning look. “Shut up, she’ll hear you.”

“She probably already knows,” Sunoo teased. “How could she not? You’ve been sitting here like a lovesick puppy for hours.”

Before he could respond, Y/n came out from behind the counter, walking over to their table with a no-nonsense expression. She glanced at them, her hands on her hips, looking every bit the part of a no-nonsense employee.

“I just got a complaint about a group being too loud,” she said coolly, her eyes flicking to Jake and then back to the rest of them. “Keep it down, or you’re getting kicked out.”

His friends stifled their laughter, shooting each other amused glances, but Jake just sat there, trying—and failing—to look casual.

“Yeah, yeah,” Heeseung said, grinning up at her. “We’ll behave. Promise.”

Y/n nodded, giving them one last look before turning and walking back to the counter. Jake couldn’t help but watch her, and his friends caught him staring—again.

“You’ve got it bad, man,” Jungwon said, shaking his head. “Like, embarrassingly bad.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, cheeks flushing slightly. He couldn’t help it. She was right there, and every time she looked his way, it felt like his heart was trying to jump out of his chest.

Jay leaned in, still chuckling. “How long are you gonna pretend to ‘study’ before you finally ask her out?”

“I’m not pretending,” Jake protested, though even he didn’t believe it.

“You’ve been pretending since you walked in,” Ni-ki quipped. “And now we’re here to enjoy the show.”

As his friends continued to tease him, Jake let out a defeated sigh. They weren’t wrong—he was hopelessly in love with her. But for now, all he could do was watch her from across the room, his heart pounding every time she looked his way.

‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆

The café had quieted down after the rush, leaving only a few customers scattered at tables, sipping their drinks or working on laptops. Jake remained at his table, idly tapping his pen against his notebook. He hadn’t been doing much studying since his friends left, but he wasn’t about to go home either—not when Y/n was still working behind the counter.

The bell above the door jingled, and an older male customer stepped in, glancing around before heading straight for the counter where Y/n stood. Jake watched as she greeted the man with her usual professionalism, her voice calm and polite as she took his order.

But something about the man’s demeanor put Jake on edge. He leaned forward, watching the exchange more closely.

“So, do you work here every day?” the man asked, leaning over the counter with a sly grin.

Y/n offered a polite smile, staying professional. “Only on some days. What can I get for you?”

“Maybe your number?” the man said, not-so-subtly ignoring the menu. “A girl like you probably has a long line of guys waiting, huh?”

Jake felt his stomach twist, a flash of annoyance flickering across his face. Y/n, however, remained calm.

“Just here to work,” she replied, her tone firm but still courteous. “Would you like to order something?”

The man chuckled, unfazed. “Come on, don’t be like that. How about after your shift? We could grab a drink.”

Jake clenched his jaw. He could tell Y/n was handling it professionally, but the guy wasn’t taking no for an answer. Standing up, Jake crossed the room before he even realized what he was doing.

Approaching the counter, he slipped into a role that he hoped would help.

“Hey,” he said, pretending to be irritated. “What’s taking so long? I’ve been waiting to order forever.”

The older man turned to look at him, clearly not pleased by the interruption.

Jake shot him an impatient glare. “I mean, you’ve been standing here for ages. Some of us are thirsty, you know?”

The customer frowned, clearly annoyed. “I’m ordering, kid. Relax.”

“Well, if you could hurry it up,” Jake said, folding his arms and acting like an impatient customer. “Some of us have places to be.”

The man huffed, grumbling under his breath before finally turning back to the counter. “Just a black coffee.”

Y/n rang him up, her face as neutral as ever, though her eyes flicked briefly to Jake, a hint of amusement there.

The older man paid for his coffee, still muttering, before walking away to wait for his order. Once he was out of earshot, Y/n let out a small breath, glancing at Jake with a faint smile.

“Thanks for that,” she said, her voice light but genuine. “He wasn’t getting the hint.”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, flustered now that the moment had passed. “Yeah, no problem. I just...didn’t want to see him keep bothering you.”

She smiled at him, then, in her usual nonchalant way, asked, “So, what do you want to order this time?”

He stared at her for a moment, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and resignation. He hadn’t planned on ordering anything, but now that he was at the counter...

With a sigh of defeat, he glanced at the menu. “I’ll take... another iced coffee. Thanks.”

She chuckled softly, shaking her head as she started preparing the drink. He watched her, feeling both proud of stepping in and a little awkward for having to order yet another drink just to cover his tracks.

As she handed him the cup, she gave him a knowing look. “You should really start studying instead of ordering all these drinks.”

He couldn’t help but smile sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get right on that.”

She laughed softly before turning back to her work, leaving him to return to his table with his heart racing, though he tried to play it cool. At least, for now, he had an excuse to stay a little longer.

‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[heartfullofleeches]

ITS MY BIRTHDAY TODAY🎉🎉🎉🎉 I was wondering how my favorites would wish me a happy birthday, Tobi, the cafe, host, static, the supernatural harem and the fast food, if that’s too many you can shorten it but I really wanted to have some of my favorite characters from my favorite writer congratulate me on my special day! BTW I’m the one who sent the Prince leash ask, I don’t know if you got it but I accidentally did it anonymously

(The Cafe was a bit too much for me to get this out to you the same day, but I hope you like this regardless! On the bright side, I did get your Prince ask and am working on that too. Happy birthday, chief!)

Tobi:

Has never had a birthday himself, but they know what they are and their significance to humans other regular people. Tobi's the kind of guy to surprise you with presents year round, but as your birthday rolls around they keep items you've had your eye on in their back pocket to gift you on your big day.

Its too embarrassing for them to give you in person, but Tobi creates a collage of all their favorite pictures of you to put up somewhere in your bedroom. Tobi loves baking and cooking so a homemade breakfast, dinner, and your treat of choice would be on the top of their list of surprises for you.

Host:

"Looks like it's a special someone's birthday- Those only come around once a year, you know? If - that's how you want it, anyway."

That time already? Time is a tricky thing for Host to wrap his head around. He could've sworn the last one was just yesterday. It hardly matters. Everyday could be your birthday- Contenstants come and go, but you'll always be his star.

That would, of course, wear the novelty of it all thin. Host is more than happy saving the pinnacle of his gratitude for you as his co-host for that one day. That day's contestants better be too if they want to leave with all the parts they came with intact.

Which is his funny way of saying they won't get any cake.

Static:

"Happy birthday to you.... Happy birthday to you...."

Hunts for every variety of birthday song they can find to serenade you with the second daylight bleeds into your room. Static's disappears predating your birthday can swiftly be explained by the trinkets they bring you, majority centered around the shows and movies you've watched together it knows you adore most.

They'd attempt to rope you into another movie night with you in full control of the remote since it's their favorite way to bond with you - and it's optimal cuddle time.

Supernatural Harem:

"Baron, must you make everything a challenge?"

"Piss off! I left enough room for you two to put your names on the cake.... Maddox more importantly than you, but still."

"We appreciate the consideration, but... Where are we supposed to write "happy birthday"?"

Nothing like waking up on your big day to your Demon husband roommate swearing today will be the day he slaughters your Angel husband roommate. Luckily, your Grim Reaper spouse roommate has the expertise to ķeep you soothed until things cool over long enough for all of them to prepare breakfast for you.

Baron stalks you around to shower you with mandatory birthday kisses- only to get pouty when he's done before noon and continues well past the age you're turning. You'll be older than all three of them by the time he's through.

Maddox, as usual, fills their journal with sketches of you to unveil at the end of the day. Their art skills is the only thing they're proud of in themselves and monetary possessions don't hit quite the mark they're trying to reach when it comes to presents they like to give. If you're a gamer/a fan of stuffed animals they'll pick up a couple so they can use them when you're away and they miss you.

The first birthday you celebrate with Alasdair has to be one to remember. He's watched you from the sidelines for years and now it's finally his chance to do what he's always wanted. It may be a tad selfish of him in hindsight, but he'll pull you aside the day before or after to enjoy a relaxing evening with just the two of you.

Fast Food:

"Code C! I repeat, Coqde C - The clown is loose!"

Birthday? Well you can't expect to have a celebration without the designated party planner, can you? As everyone closes up the restaurant early to commemorate your big day, Twister hoovers over the crew to insure everything goes swimming. The Janitor follows behind it with their trusty spray bottle to keep the clown in check - its the only excuse they have not to give their present to you by hand because they're too embarrassed.

The bathroom Succubus would insist on you opening her gifts to you first - if a certain goat wouldn't pout over it all day as a result. The ballpit hands shower you with all the shiny items lost in their depths. The Storyteller reads you the tale of someone who's birthday happens to fall on the same day - where nothing bad occurs and the universe smiles kindly in their favor.

The ice cream machine ghost whispers in the ears of customers they'd better wish you a happy birthday or be prepared to have dairy filled nightmares

[4doras]

ADDICTION ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

you’re addicted to this one coffee shop, but you’re never getting any coffee. ⊹♡

ricky x reader | enemies (?) to lovers

genre. fluff (lowercase intended)

wc. 1.4k

a/n. finally wrote something for ricky!! i hope you guys like this ~ also warning for slight swearing

you never really liked coffee, but you found yourself continuing to go to a coffee shop. maybe it was the atmosphere, or the smell of the coffee brewing, or the guy that came everyday. it was probably the last one. he was well dressed, his hair was perfectly styled, he was the perfect man.

for a change of heart, you decided to buy a coffee today. you ordered an iced americano, you liked the bitter taste of the coffee, especially when it lingered on your tongue after. “order for y/n!” the cashier called out. you walked up to the register and grabbed your coffee, on your way to leave. but to your disappointment, the coffee was flying out of your grasp before you could even take a sip. “shit! i'm so sorry.” you apologized before looking up to see the love of your life. “are you serious…” you heard him mumble in a low tone. “i’m so sorry, oh my god.” your coffee was splashed all over his white shirt, now staining it brown. “i can do something for you.” you tried to make the situation better. “you’ve done enough, already.” he sighed. clearly, your attempt hadn’t worked. you walked out of the store, leaving without a drink.

more under the cut!

“i thought you were getting a drink?” gyuvin asked you, staring at you dumbfounded as you held nothing in your hands. “i bumped into a guy and it spilled all over him.” you got comfortable in your seat, sulking without a drink. “funny, my friend got a drink spilled on him. but he said the person was pretty, so i guess it’s not you.” he teased you, trying to make the conversation more happy. “oh, shut up, gyuvin!” you pushed his shoulder.

this small interaction didn't stop you from coming everyday, even if that meant seeing the guy you spilled your coffee on. maybe you were drunk in love from his good looks. what you didn’t expect was gyuvin walking in with the guy. “oh, y/n!” gyuvins lanky arm shot up, waving his arm in the air. he and his friend waddled over to your little table.

“why's it so… tense?” gyuvin asked. “she spilled her coffee on me that day.” ricky flatly said. “hey, look at that! i should order the drinks.” gyuvin smiled, leaving you and the mystery man alone. “you think i'm pretty?” you immediately started. “of course gyuvin told you that.” he rolled his eyes. “well?” you weren’t going to shut up until you got an answer. “i thought you were pretty before you chucked your drink on me, yeah.” he admitted. “i didn't do it on purpose!” you fought, “you bumped into me, if anything.” you crossed your arms, laying back into your chair. “enough fighting!” gyuvin cut the two of you off before a fight broke out. “anyway, y/n, this is ricky, ricky, this is y/n. you two will be good friends.” gyuvin took you and ricky’s hand, holding them together, and shaking them, imitating you two shaking hands.

ricky was weird. how could he look so cold, and dark, but love such cute things? a man like him doesn’t fit the image of ordering strawberry drinks whenever the option was available. he quietly sipped on his strawberry smoothie, as he listened to you and gyuvin talk, his eyes diverting to whoever was taking. you picked out all these small habits ricky had. but it wasn’t to say that he didn't hate you. whenever you and him were left by gyuvin, his whole personality seemed to change. with gyuvin, he seemed cuter and smiley, with you, he became quiet and reserved.

the things ricky did to tick you off, was in vain. it didn't stop you from coming everyday to see him, even if that meant he would only roll his eyes at you. at least it was something.

the cafe was filling up by the minute, luckily you came early in the morning. ricky walked in with gyuvin, and looked around for an empty table. after taking a glance around, they quickly realized there were none left expect from your table. “can we sit here? please!” gyuvin said in a sing-song voice. “yeah, come sit here.” you patted the seat next to you, signaling for gyuvin to come sit next to you. but instead of gyuvin who was supposed to be beside you, ricky snatched the seat before gyuvin could even walk to your side of the table. gyuvin looked at you with raised eyebrows, “me or ricky?” you weren’t sure who you wanted to sit next to you, but either way, you didn't mind. “i don’t mind you both, you guys can pick.” you left the option to them. “i wanna sit next to y/n.” ricky said, looking at gyuvin as though he should’ve known. “okay, okay.” gyuvin put his hands up like he committed a crime.

it was fate that you coincidentally brought a few strawberry candies with you today. you reached into your bag and fished for the pieces, and passed them to ricky. ricky took them from your hand without saying anything, and popped one into his mouth. like the investigator gyuvin was, he had to ask another question about you and ricky. “since when were you two so close?” he cocked his head to the side, crossed his legs and sat up straight as if he was ready to hear a story. in sync, you and ricky looked at each other and shrugged. you weren’t really sure why you and ricky had become more closer with each other, but it just happened with time. seeing one another became a daily routine, plus, you couldn’t escape each other by going to the same cafe everyday. you may as well gain a new friendship.

once ricky and gyuvin finished their business, they got up and started to pack away their stuff back into their bags. “bye y/n.” gyuvin said, walking away with ricky. “bye y/n!” ricky smiled and waved, looking back at you as he got dragged away by gyuvin. “what are you being so happy for?” you could hear gyuvin say as he left the store.

your small greetings with ricky grew into small talks, that turned into going out with each other outside of the cafe, which became to going to each other's houses. it was such a frequent occurrence that ricky spent more time with you than gyuvin.

“what’s up with you and ricky?” gyuvin plopped himself on your couch. gyuvin decided to invite himself over to your house and talk to you about ricky. “what d’you mean ‘me and ricky’?” you asked. “i mean you two are really close all of a sudden, i thought he hated you because of the whole coffee incident. i thought you hated him too, y’know? mutual hatred or something.” “i dont hate him, i mean, i did because he kept blaming me for the coffee but i don't anymore. he's really cute in a way, i guess i didn't expect it.” you admitted. “why?” “hes so… i dont know, he didn't fit that sort of image in the start.” “so you think he’s hot? and his personality was cute?” gyuvin said bluntly. “babe?” the voice came from your room. a messed up hair ricky came out of the room looking for you. once you saw him you quickly got up and ran to him, closing the door behind you two. you completely forgot your boyfriend was sleeping in the other room.

i felt like being in the principal's room. you and ricky sat next to each other, with gyuvin on the other side, asking question. “well, i suppose if he makes you happy, im happy. both of you.” even though gyuvin seemed happy, he was still sulking. “i'm still upset you guys kept it from me.” “it's not my fault, ricky wanted to keep it a secret.” you said, putting ricky on the spot. “i didn’t want gyuvin to tease me, it’s his fault.” ricky pointed at gyuvin, turning the whole situation into a who-did-it.

you giggled as you watched the two guys fight over who’s fault it was. gyuvin making huge movements to emphasize his point and ricky using his whiny voice to persuade you did nothing but make you love him even more. you wrapped your arms around ricky, giving him a small peck on the cheek. “ugh! not in front of me.” gyuvin gagged. ricky softly kissed you for good measure, or, to piss gyuvin off.

who would’ve known the guy you would look for everyday would become yours?

[hotchswifey]

a little bit shy - rafael barba x reader smut

i wrote this like a year ago and never posted it???????? oml i kept thinking it was unfinished but like it’s 2700 words  😭 😭 😭 😭

 anyways i’m not rewriting it or even rereading it so!!! anyways, this is shitty but it’s mine so it’s fine

warnings: shy!reader, smut, vaginal fingering, reader is a virgin (par hand stuff she’s done with rafael), reader owns a bookstore/cafe, written with an age gap in mind (rafael is like ?? 40?? 45??? reader is like 23/24), rafael is a babe and i love him, your honour, also rafael is a brief man and nobody can convince me otherwise, also like the office spoilers ig??? but nothing major, daddy/papi kink, the reader may have a slight humiliation kink (it’s self-projection babes), also the translation is through google so sorry if it is incorrect!

(word count: 2740)

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You sat on the counter of your café, reading one of Stephen King’s books. You had closed up at 19:00 like you did every day (par Sundays where you closed up at 17:00); however, you had stayed behind in your store, deciding that you would leave when the rain cleared up - which, it hadn’t. You looked at the grandfather clock standing up against the wall - quarter past nine. The time had flown by as you were too engrossed in your book to notice the world outside and join the world written on the pages. You sighed as you jumped off the counter, folding the corner of (what was now) your personal copy of Doctor Sleep, realising that the weather would not get better anytime soon. Grabbing your hoodie (while cursing your past self for not bringing a coat to work), you turned off the lights, ensuring the ovens and such were also turned off. You grabbed your keys, preparing for the harsh weather, before stepping outside (albeit reluctantly). The rain hit your face harshly, the wind almost making breathing impossible, as you made your way quickly (or as quick as the wind would let your body move) down the sidewalk. You should have probably just called an Uber as you got to the corner of the street. But, then again, you had money to return to the shop. You halted on the corner, debating it but rejecting the idea. You were already soaking from being outside for a few minutes, so what were another... 20... to your apartment. It took you about ten seconds to go to Rafael’s apartment. You had only been dating for a couple months, but his place was, at most, ten minutes away from your shop, and you were freezing. You rushed down the sidewalk until you got to his building, standing underneath a roof; you quickly texted him with trembling fingers, asking if he could let you in, figuring he wouldn’t hear your voice on the intercom system due to the wind. The door buzzed open within seconds, which you were highly thankful for, and you made your way to the elevator, which you took to the top floor. Rafael answered the door after you knocked, still in his suit (confirming your suspicion that he had not stopped working even now; you were pretty surprised he was even home, as he was usually spending all his free time in his office). His eyes went wide immediately, taking in your wet form. “Hermosa, wha-” he cut himself off (something you didn’t know he was even capable of doing) as he opened the door wider for you to come in. “You’re soaking,” he said as he reached for the zipper of your hoodie. “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” you quipped back as you slapped his hands away, grabbing the zipper to try to pull it down, but you couldn’t quite do it with your trembling hands (which were a dangerously dark red). Rafael grabbed it again, slapping your hands away this time, pulling the zipper down and peeling the fabric off your skin as it stuck to you. “What were you thinking?” he looked down at you sternly, causing you to roll your eyes. “Calm down, I’m fine-” “You’re going to get ill,” he interrupted, taking your phone from you and placing it on the coffee table face down (which seemed to be his way of telling you I’m taking this because you are almost vibrating from how cold you are, not because I’m going to look through your phone, Hermosa). “you need a shower.” “I’m fine!” you argued, and Rafael looked at you with a deadpan look. You stared at each other for about ten seconds before you gave in, mumbling quickly, “Fine.” He walked you towards the bathroom as if you didn’t know where it was and opened the door for you. A quick “thank you” later, and you were peeling off the rest of your clothes before figuring out how to turn on the shower. After about a minute (which felt like an eternity, considering you were feeling hypothermic), you grabbed a towel before heading back out to find Rafael putting your hoodie in a washing basket. “Rafael?” he turned around at that, his eyebrows furrowing - he was cute when he was overly concerned. You suddenly became aware that you were naked and blushed heavily, “How- how do you, um, turn the... shower on?” Once he showed you and left the room, you basked in the water, feeling your previously numb fingers returning to life. You were highly aware of how long you were in the shower, not wanting to waste water or heat or anything. As well as the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about how you were only one wall away from Rafael - totally naked. You took his (very expensive looking) shampoo and soap, cleaning yourself and your hair, before turning off the shower and leaving. Only then did you realise that you had no clothes - unless you would put on cold, wet ones. You wrapped the same towel around yourself before sheepishly entering the bathroom. Rafael smiled at you from his seat on his couch, his work abandoned on the dining table, his suit jacket on the back of one of the chairs and his tie looser than when he had answered the door, and a glass of scotch in one hand and the tv playing Netflix. “I don’t- um, I- I don’t have any... clothes,” you stuttered, looking down at your feet and fiddling with the towel. “You can borrow one of my shirts,” he said, as if it was the most casual thing ever, like you two always did this. he got up, pausing (in what looked like) the office (which you had convinced him to watch after it came to your knowledge that he had never watched it), and began to pull out a shirt from his drawer in his bedroom, handing it to you, which you thanked him for, still blushing from your current predicament. He went to leave before you spoke again. “I- I don’t have any-” you stopped talking, blushing too much before you could say ‘panties’. “You don’t mind wearing mine, would you? Because, you see, I don’t have any panties,” You blushed at his bluntness but shook your head to say, “No, I don’t mind. When, in actuality, you did mind, but only because the thought made you feel hot. Like everything else had once you had made your way into his apartment. You were naked. And, now, you were going to wear Rafael’s clothes. He left for you to get dressed; you shut the door, making sure it was locked, before you dropped the towel, pulling on his briefs and shirt. His shirt was white, and as you looked in the mirror, you realised that, yes, he could definitely see your nipples through the shirt. You buttoned three buttons before turning around and checking how much of your ass it covered. Thankfully, it fell to your mid-thigh, and even more, it smelt like him. You exited the bedroom, turning to close the door behind you softly to not disturb Rafael’s Netflix. What you didn’t see, with your back turned, was Rafael staring at you (specifically, your ass) and licking his lips. As you turned back around, you saw him sit forward and place his free hand (the one without scotch in it) on his knee - unbeknownst to you, he was trying to hide his growing member. You smiled at him, which he returned, and joined him on the couch, sitting about a foot away. You were right when you thought he was watching the office. He was currently watching Jim fax Dwight messages from future Dwight. You brought your legs up to your chest, sitting back on the couch. I watched as Jan told Michael that the branch was closing. “Would you like a drink, cariño?” he asked, making his way (very quickly, you noticed) behind the couch, as you watched the TV. You looked up at him, smiling, asking him for some coffee. He kissed you on the forehead, causing you to giggle, and then started on your coffee. But you swore as he turned around that he was... hard? Your eyes widened, and your cheeks grew hot as your head flew forward to stare at the TV. A smile grew on your face, and you tried to hide it multiple times, but you just couldn’t; it was... cute. Rafael was unbelievably cute right now - plus, his ears were pink, which made him look... well, adorable. You made sure he couldn’t see your face as you smiled widely, but you realised you were failing when he said; “What’s happening?” “What?” you turned to him, still smiling. “In Scranton,” he said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was, but you weren’t focused on the TV. You were focused on what was going on behind the kitchen counter he was standing behind. “Oh, right, there,” you said, although you were sure you sounded teasing, which you must have because Rafael’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean, ángel?” he asked, coming back to join you on the couch, handing you the coffee. He sat closer to you than you had previously sat next to him, not that you minded - you wanted to sit on his lap, not next to him, but you’d settle for this. “Nothing,” you smirked as you glanced at him - his trousers were still tight. Your eyes went wide momentarily, but it was enough for Rafael to notice. “What?” “What?” you sipped your coffee, covering your smile as you looked at him. he narrowed his eyes at you before putting his arm around you, bringing you into his chest. He put the coffee on the table for you, looking down at you as you turned your head completely to look him in the eye. “You’re hiding something.” “Am I, counsellor?” You moved your legs over him, and he pulled you onto his lap, causing you to yelp and him to chuckle, burying his face in your neck, nipping and kissing at your skin. Your cheeks began to burn again as your smile and teasing attitude disappeared, replaced with whimpers and gripping onto the hem of your (or, rather, his) shirt. You did notice, however, that you weren’t exactly on his lap but on his legs. Which meant he thought you hadn’t noticed his... situation. “What are you hiding, cariño?” he began to kiss further down, kissing at your collarbone. You reached down to palm at his slacks, the office still playing in the background. You heard his breath hitch, and his head flew up to look you in the eye. “What are you hiding, counsellor?” you grinned at him, blinking through your lashes. His ears burned, as well as his cheeks, and he looked pretty shocked, too. However, he quickly recovered. He smirked at you, gripping your wrist, causing you to pout. His lips found yours, and you whimpered into his mouth, causing him to smirk again. “I’m not hiding a thing, cariño,” he said against your mouth, moving your hand back down to his bulge. He hummed against your mouth as you squeezed him lightly. His hand gripped your thigh, the other resting on your cheek as he deepened the kiss. You whined into his lips, putting your hand, not playing with his bulge, on top of the one on your thigh. “Please, Rafael,” you whimpered. His hand on your thigh began to creep up your leg, coming up to the waistband of your briefs before slipping inside. That was new. Sure, you had done things with Raf before, but he was always very... slow. He just wanted to ensure you were completely comfortable with what was happening, but now? Seeing you in his shirt? His fingers teased your entrance momentarily before he gathered your slick and began rubbing at your clit with steady circles. Your hand immediately gripped his wrist, your fingers not even managing to close around his arm. Your back arched, your tits pressed against him, and pathetic whines fell from your lips. His lips were attacking your neck and collarbone, marking you. “Oh, god,” you whimpered out, his fingers beginning to speed up, his other arm wrapped around your waist to keep you against him. Your fingers, the ones not around his arm, gripped his waistcoat. His rubbing sent impulses up and down your body, your vocal cords working on their own accord and your limbs twitching. “Please, oh, god,” his fingers and mouth were the only things you could focus on, and the rest of the world fell away. You were becoming incoherent with your words, that much you were aware of, as you mumbled out, ‘please’s and ‘fuck’s. You were pretty amazed you had stayed coherent for that long, considering that you were usually a mumbling mess of a woman who couldn’t make eye contact or stop blushing when he touched any part of your skin. You brought his face up from your neck, wanting to kiss his scotch-flavoured lips. The passionate kiss did not stop you from whimpering against him or prevent you from moving his hand away from your clit and towards your entrance. "estás tan necesitado, ¿no es así, cariño?" his tone was teasing, though you had no idea what he was saying. You moaned as his fingers edged around your entrance, and you dropped your head into his neck to hide the growing blush, your eyes fluttering shut. Your hips bucked as best they could in the position you were in. You whined when he took his fingers away from you; however, after he had moved you onto his lap (and, therefore, on top of his hard-on), his fingers continued their previous actions. He sunk one finger into your heat, causing your hold on his vest to tighten and your other to clench as you lifted it, trying to decide what to do. Your legs fell wider as Rafael curled his fingers into your sweet spot (and, of course, he knew exactly where that was, despite only having done this a couple of times). “Please, Rafael,” your voice was heavily muffled by the fact that you were pressing your face against his neck. Still, he must have heard you because he added another finger into you, rubbing against your sweet spot with two fingers whilst his palm ground against your clit. “please, papi,” you mumbled out, causing Rafael to stutter in his pleasing ministrations and his cock to twitch. You immediately seized up, your eyes flying open against his neck. However, Rafael’s fingers continued without hesitation, his other hand moving to your ass and squeezing it, pulling you more towards him. He hummed against the side of your head. “Papi, cariño?” your cheeks flushed, the embarrassment of the situation catching up on you. Your hold on his vest tightened, and you were sure you were seconds away from tearing it. You whimpered against his skin, the humiliation only contributing to your impending orgasm. Rafael smirked down at you, loving how you looked, squirming and whimpering on his lap. he loved that you were shy. You were adorable when you were blushing and stumbling over your words whilst you looked everywhere but him. When you called him Papa? he almost groaned aloud. He could feel you pulsing around his fingers, your legs spasming and back arching. Taking his hand away from your ass (and slightly lifting one of his legs to not make you fall), he unbuttoned your shirt, kneading one of your breasts. Your whimpers turned into moans, gradually increasing in volume and frequency. “That’s it, Hermosa, cum on papi’s fingers."

[juyeonszn]

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER (PT. 2)

PAIRING kevin moon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 5.60k

GENRES angst ﹒little bit of fluff ﹒little bit of smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, reader is better than me cause i would not let kevin do all the shit he’s done 😭, ANYWAY i digress, this part is very reader-centric — whereas part one is very kevin-centric, inner turmoil goes absolutely crazy, most of this fic is reader putting kevin in his place and him realizing how big of an asshole he truly is, mentions of injury (past tense), mentions of insecurity, lots of arguing, reader cries at one point or another, the smut places a very minimal role in this, but unprotected sex, public sex (the auditorium dressing room), no foreplay but wtv we fall like soldiers in battle, pussy job lowkey (high key…), creampie, lmk if i missed anything!

SUMMARY it wasn’t like you and kevin hated each other. in fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

MORE oh my god. it’s finally fucking here. A MONTH, 2 SICKNESSES AND MANY MANY STRESSFUL NIGHTS LATER— part two of princess and the pauper is here!!! i’m so sorry to those of u who have been itching and waiting on me to get ‘er done,,, it’s been an ordeal to say the least, and while it’s nearing the two month mark since the black out or back out collab was announced, SHE FINALLY FINISHED!!! for once i saw something through omg i can sleep peacefully and work on my other wips without guilt now… 😭 ALSO THANK U SO MUCH MAYA @/kimsohn FOR PUSHING ME THROUGH THIS and for making me thug it out bc without u it definitely would’ve taken much longer to finish 💔 please dont forget to read part one and the other fics in the series if u haven’t!! both are linked below! and as always, pls reblog if u enjoyed <3

PART ONE | SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr @sunwooverse @kimsohn

TAGLIST @millksea @deobibbang @deobi0412

Never in your life have you felt so… Confused.

It wasn’t just confusion that settled deep in the pit of your stomach. There was a sharp pain there too, like someone stabbed you and twisted the knife. That was probably the best way to describe what you were feeling. You were bleeding out, and no one was coming to save you.

Kevin wasn’t answering your calls. He wasn’t answering your texts. He ran out of the lecture hall as soon as class was over, never giving you a moment to speak to him. It was making you nervous.

You still had half of a dance to choreograph and a fuck ton of pressure riding on your back. After the last performance you and him did together, you’d have a lot of eyes on you. It most definitely wasn’t your fault that he dropped you. How many people willingly want to acquire a broken ankle? The crutches were a bitch to maneuver around with. But like every single thing that’s happened in the three years you’ve known Kevin Moon, he’s managed to place the blame on you like it was.

It was crucial that you make amends with him even if it was momentarily. Your final grades were dependent on your performance. If he couldn’t get his shit together for at least that, he was a lost cause in your mind. Not even your professor would be able to refute that fact. Actually, nobody would be able to refute that fact.

Your lips form an O as you blow the steam away from your coffee, pulling out your phone to try Kevin’s phone once again. The line rings a few times before going straight to voicemail like it has the past couple weeks. You kiss your teeth, tying your sweater around your waist as you slump in your chair. The baristas at the campus cafe were probably sick of seeing you sitting in the same high-top counter spot since the incident with Kevin in the studio.

“Y/N?”

Ji Changmin appears beside you and you click your phone off, so he wouldn’t see his friend’s contact on the screen. You give the Early Childhood Dev major a weak smile.

“Changmin! What’s up? How are you and your girlfriend?” You hope he can’t recognize the distress written all over your features. You highly doubt it, though. You can feel the wrinkles pulling at your skin.

“We’re good! How’s the showcase performance going with Kev?” He asks like he knows something you don’t. When your lips fall to a thin line, an all too familiar grimace, he sighs a knowing sigh. “Do I have to smack some sense into him?”

“Not gonna lie, yeah, you do. He’s being really fucking difficult and like half of our dance is unfinished. I can’t even get a hold of him, so I’m starting to lose my patience.” You express your annoyance. The border between complacency and free-will was a lot slimmer than one might think. For example; your feelings when it comes to Kevin Moon.

You don’t expect to get a returning call later that night when you’re washing dishes after dinner.

In fact, you don’t even hear it at first, too absorbed in scrubbing the staining out of your bowl. It’s when your roommate yells out to you, that you snap out of your reverie, albeit dazedly. You dry your hands on a nearby tea towel, hitting the green answer button without a second glance at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Your heart catches in your throat. You recognize the owner of the voice practically by the first breath into the receiver alone. It’s actually kind of unhealthy how quickly it took to realize who was on the other end. You swallow heavily, praying he doesn’t hear the gulp.

“In the latter part of the afternoon, I believe. Why?” You try not to sound hopeful. That’s one thing you’ve learned being in the same vicinity as Kevin Moon. You could never be too expecting, because it would only lead to disappointment. And you’d dealt with enough of that the past few years.

“We need to finish this fuck ass choreography,” he grunts, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue. “I’ll meet you in the same studio at 4.”

He doesn’t let you get anything else in, hanging up swiftly. You deflate as you set your phone back on the counter. All you had to do was push through these next couple weeks, like you always have when it came to him.

That should be a piece of cake, right?

Wrong.

“No, that looks stupid.”

You grit your teeth, swiping the back of your hand on your forehead. You’d been inside of this studio maybe 30 minutes tops, and you were on the verge of strangling Kevin. With as long as you’d been putting up with his shit, you thought getting through this wouldn’t be as rough as it’s been. But if there was one thing Kevin Moon had, it was pride.

“We don’t have time for you to nitpick right now. Let’s just finish the choreography and clean it after.” Your hands rest on your hips, nostrils flaring.

“If we clean as we go, we’ll have more time to drill it into our systems and get down muscle memory. It’ll be a stronger performance.” He argues. You roll your eyes as you turn away from him, taking a water break to calm yourself. “Why do you have so much fucking attitude today? You were the one preaching to the choir about me making things difficult. It seems the tables have turned.”

Usually, you were pretty good at keeping your frustration at bay when it came to Kevin’s remarks. You liked to think it was because you were down bad for the guy, despite him always wanting nothing to do with you. But as of late, (Read: Since your performance of Princess and the Pauper) every little comment he’s made has managed to crawl under your skin like a damn parasite. You were beginning to get real sick of it.

“God, you’re so—“ You interrupt yourself to groan, fingers curling into fists. “You’re fucking insufferable. Do you know that? I’ve been bending over backwards to ensure we aren’t kicked out of the goddamn program and you don’t even fucking care. Over what? A kiss that you initiated?”

Kevin is stunned into silence, not at all prepared for you to blow up on him like that. After all, that razor thin line between complacency and free-will had yet to be crossed. And well, it appears that you just crossed it. You whip around toward him, pulling down the collar of your t-shirt to reveal the faintest of bruises that still remains from your impromptu act of intimacy.

“I’ve had to look at this every day for a week and all it’s done is make me feel shitty, ashamed of something I didn’t even start. Now I need you to stop acting like an ass and get it together so we can finish this and perform the best dance this university has ever seen.” Your chest is heaving up and down, similarly to when you made out against the mirrors last week. Except this time isn’t out of breathlessness, but rather anger and exhaustion.

Kevin’s eyes don’t leave the hickey on the base of your throat, something undetectable swimming in them as he stares. You can’t read the emotions swirling rampantly in his irises, a mixture of too many blurring into one another. Honestly, it’s funny. It’s funny that it’s taken you this long to get him to shut his mouth for once.

So you laugh.

It’s a snort at first, an off handed projection of how comical the situation has become to you. But then it metamorphoses into a small giggle, which leads to full scale laughter that has you hunching over your knees and wiping away tears. This whole thing is stupid. Absolutely fucking stupid.

“What are you laughing at?” His eyebrow raises in question, broken from his weird trance.

“I just can’t believe it took three years for me to shut you up,” you shake your head slowly, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm. “You’re always the one who can’t stop talking.”

Kevin deadpans, mouth pulled pin-straight as his expression drops. “You’re so unserious.”

As the height of your laughter reaches a valley, you collapse onto the ground, resting your back against the mirror. You take another long sip of water before sighing. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. Trust me, I know. But, we’ve gotta set aside our differences just this once. Please, for the sake of the department.”

“Fine,” he murmurs, plopping down beside you to stretch his back. “Let’s finish choreographing so we can start cleaning it up.”

It’s a victory in your book, and probably the most obedient the Pisces has ever been. Maybe this wouldn’t end in complete disaster like you assumed it would. It turns out Kevin Moon wasn’t entirely brainless and knew when he was wrong. Sometimes. Maybe. We’ll see.

You shut your eyes and visualize what you’ve choreographed so far, going over the moves in your head to see if the rest will come to you like a prophecy. It’s wishful thinking, but with how much you’ve accomplished since setting foot in the studio, you’re willing to try anything. The track would be nice for elements of hip hop style choreography, but you knew the audience wouldn’t eat it up as much as they would the route you’re currently taking.

Driver roll up the partition, please…

The song plays through the speakers and you watch as Kevin stands to run through everything you have. You’re entranced by his movements, the flow of his body on certain points. It’ll look ten times better once you’re doing it with him, costumed and performing it perfectly in front of a crowd. You can picture it now, the gentle but controlled glide of his hands along your arms when Beyoncé sings “We ain’t even gonna make it to this club”. He was right. You very well might be seduced by your enemy.

“Should we use props?” You suddenly voice, eyes narrowed in thought. He hums.

“That’s… not a half-bad idea, actually,” his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “What did you have in mind?”

“A chair, maybe,” you look away from him, placing your focus on the way your toes alternate between a tendu and relaxed position. “That could take up a good chunk of the choreo.”

Kevin stalks over to the supply closet in the corner of the studio, pulling out a folding chair. He puts it in the center of the room gently, careful to not scratch up the wooden, lacquered flooring. You spend the next couple of hours brainstorming through numerous versions of the dance. While it was a lot easier than your past practices, there were still the occasional argument over which movements looked good and whatnot.

At a certain point, everything becomes cohesive and the end is near. You gulp down some water as Kevin does some random choreography. It’s then that it comes to you, like a vision from That’s So Raven. You practically drop your water bottle, scrambling to your feet and stopping him. Your breath is heavy from fatigue and you’re slightly afraid of even suggesting this, but it’s exactly what this dance needs. It’s exactly what everyone wants to see from the two of you.

He pauses the music and gestures for you to get on with it. You push down the lump in your throat, scared of rejection. But maybe he was smart and he would agree that this is what you have to do. “What if we did a lift?”

You see the hesitation swirling in his eyes and you raise a finger before he can shut you down entirely. “Nothing crazy like… um— you know— Princess and the Pauper, but something smaller. Something… sexy? Like, Dancing with the Stars type beat.”

When he shrugs instead of outright dismissing your idea, you know you’ve won. He nods slowly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “Okay, sure. But we better clean up everything else fast so we can perfect the lift.”

The two of you take another three hours running the entirety of the choreography, ingraining the moves into your brains and muscles. You still had a bit until the actual showcase, but your priority now lies with the lift. If you nailed it, the entire department would very well grovel after you in reparation for all of the slack you got after Kevin dropped you. Hell, the entire university would kiss your feet. This was your redemption. In more ways than one.

You both decide to call it a day at around 9:30 PM. Your hands reach for your belongings and then you halt yourself, a thought coming to mind. While you had him in this weird state of obedience, you figured it was as good a time as any to ask the question that’s been weighing on you for the past few years. Your fingers swipe away the sweat beading around your hairline.

”Kevin,” you start, voice a lot softer than before. “Why do you— what did I do to make you dislike me so much?”

He’s caught completely off guard, eyes widening in surprise. If he was anticipating you to say anything else prior to parting ways tonight, he didn’t think this would be it. He’s actually a little off put that you hadn’t asked him this already in the span of your definitely-one-sided rivalry. He takes a large gulp of water.

”I’d call it indifference, not dislike,” he corrects after a pregnant silence. “It’s really fucking stupid thinking about it in hindsight. I don’t know if you remember this time, way back in our first year, we ran into each other at the campus cafe— literally, might I add— and you spilled your coffee all over this white shirt of mine that Changmin had gotten for me as a birthday gift. I only recently found out that it wasn’t as expensive as he made it out to be.”

You blink at his admission, processing his words as thoroughly as possible. You don’t know what you wanted him to say. You weren’t even sure if there was a concrete reason for him to be so fucking mean to you all this time. And now that you know, you come to the conclusion that Kevin Moon isn’t as smart as you’ve painted him out to be in your head. He’s actually a gigantic idiot. Because who in their right mind goes through these lengths to form a distance between the only other person on par with their talent?

Before you can stop yourself, you’re bursting into another fit of laughter. Kevin falters at your reaction. He was waiting for you to blow up on him, to scream in his face for causing you so much pain and unnecessary drama over something so silly. So when you do none of that, when you start fucking laughing like a damn hyena, he feels dumb. Like his entire college career has been built off of nothing.

”This is so—“ you pause to gather your bearings, wiping away the tears that managed to escape. “We’ve spent so much time going back and forth over some spilled coffee? Surely you’ve realized how insane that is at some point.”

”It took a lengthy argument with Changmin, but yeah, I did,” he nods, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, finally getting your things together. The two of you bid each other an awkward goodbye. Neither of you knew what to make of your relationship now that things had been partially sorted through. There was a fuck ton of baggage that still had to be sifted, but at least you had an answer.

That was enough to push through this showcase performance. You think.

You’re nervous.

Never in your entire life have you ever been this nervous for a performance.

You grew up doing musical theatre and dancing, it’s always been the one constant presence you could rely on. But standing here, backstage at the showcase, you think you’re going to throw up. Your palms are clamming up uncontrollably and your chest feels unbearably heavy as you watch the quartet doing a contemporary piece to some ballad you couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. There were still a couple groups before you.

Not even when you had to perform fuckass Princess and the Pauper were you this anxious. You wince, trying to stop the incessant bouncing of your leg. Your weight keeps shifting from one hip to the other. As a seasoned veteran, you don’t know why you feel this way. Maybe it had to do with all the pressure riding on this very dance. Every single eye in that crowd was going to scrutinize your every move on that stage.

“Calm down,” a voice whispers harshly from beside you. “You’re making me nervous.”

Kevin wraps his fingers around your wrist, stopping the annoying tap-tap-tap your own were doing against your thigh. He gives you a look, and you sigh. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

That’s a lie. Not only was the high expectations from the entire school getting to you, but so was the fear of history repeating itself. He knows this, it was inevitable. After what happened the last time he was tasked with lifting you, it was only natural.

”We’ve drilled this dance hundreds, if not thousands, of times, Y/N. We’ll do just fine.” Kevin assures you.

His hand feels foreign holding yours, like it was illegal for his skin to be touching your own. You feel your lower lip quiver, a sense of trepidation that you’ve never once felt creeping down your spine. Your mind was spiraling, and quite honestly, Kevin being so close was making it worse. All you could think about was him dropping you again, leaving you in the middle of the stage with a broken leg and a broken heart. You release a shaky breath and he turns to face you.

Your eyes widen and he searches your face for any disingenuity. When he finds his answer, he brings the hand that was holding yours up to cup your cheek. He’s cautious, afraid he might break you like he always does. He waits for you to shove him away and to yell at him for being a fucking coward.

You don’t. You stay still, hoping he follows through with what you think he’s about to do. And then he does.

It’s such a featherlight peck of his lips on your own, you almost don’t even register. But sparks shoot from the source all the way to the tips of your fingers. You feel as if you were dealt a static shock of electricity, your whole body buzzing from the small kiss alone.

He pulls away just in time for the stage manager to inform you that you’re next. Kevin rolls his neck jogging over to the wings to patiently await your performance like he hadn’t just kissed you a moment ago. You blink dumbly, two fingers coming up to touch where his lips had been. Sure the nerves were gone now, but the sensation of butterflies swarming about in your stomach easily replaced that. What the fuck was his problem?

“Our last performance is one I’m sure all of you have been waiting for. Kevin Moon and Y/N L/N with Partition!”

Before you know it, you and Kevin are in position, your body squared upstage and his to the crowd. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his arm wrapped around your waist and his steady breathing on your nose. The spotlight switches on, the heat of the lighting warm against the side of your face. It’s silent in the auditorium, but it rings in your ears. You could do this.

Let me hear you say ‘Hey Miss Carter’…

You move on reflex, muscle memory kicking in instantaneously. Each circle of your hips, every turn you make— a fouetté here, a pirouette there, a couple coupes, each roll of your body. But what really gets you is the long brushes of Kevin’s skin on your own. You’d practiced with distance between the two of you. There was a tension that had been there for years. Now it’s all coming to a rolling boil, a new uncharted tension that every single member in that audience could see.

And then comes the lift.

You, along with everybody in the auditorium, practically hold your breath when Kevin’s hands grip your hips. He raises you above him with all of his strength, completely focused on you and only you. You shut your eyes and feel the moment, like, really feel it. Your body is relaxed, the Dirty Dancing-esque lift bringing the whole performance together just like you knew it would. The only difference from the movie and real life is the fact that you’re flipped, your backside to Kevin and your chest to the ceiling.

Your eyes flutter open, the spotlight all but blinding you, and you finally feel content. Like everything has fallen into the right place for once in your life. Especially so when Kevin sets you down gently and you finish your dance with the utmost confidence.

The crowd erupts into a roaring chorus of applause, going as far as giving you a standing ovation. Holy shit. You pulled it off. You actually managed to pull it off.

Your face feels like it might split from how big your smile is. You and Kevin bow, walking off stage. You’re entirely too happy right now, a newfound energy overtaking you as you trail behind him.

“We did it!” You cheer as you follow him towards the dressing room where your things are. You’re the only ones left backstage, everyone else filtering out between performances. Kevin doesn’t give you much of a response, just a small nod of acknowledgment. Your smile falters. “What the hell is your problem?”

”Nothing, Y/N, fuck. Can you just mind your own fucking business?” He snaps, turning around to glare at you just as the door slams behind you. You instinctively flinch at both loud noises. His features soften but you take a step back from him.

You aren’t sure why you’re surprised. This isn’t anything new. Kevin has always made it crystal clear that he wasn’t your number one fan. Being neutral for your performance wasn’t enough to repair all the holes in whatever your relationship was, and you should’ve known better. You shouldn’t have let your guard down so easily. You should’ve expected this. Old dogs can never learn new tricks.

But Kevin’s scared. He’s afraid of letting you in after all the mess he’s put you through. The only thing he’s good at doing is hurting you, over and over like there was a prize that came out of it.

”Look…”

”No, you listen to me,” you swallow heavily, tears already tight lining your eyes. “Kevin, I have taken so much shit from you. Over these past few years I have just sat there and let you unload all your fucked up insecurities onto me. Have you ever wondered why? Have you ever thought to stop and think about why I let you be so mean to me without even questioning it?”

He says nothing, just stares with his lips parted. They open and close like a fish out of water, words there at the tip of his tongue but refusing to make their escape. And then one of your tears rolls down your cheeks and he’s directly in front you, his heart on his sleeve for the first time since you’ve met him.

”Why?” The simple question is so quiet, you almost don’t hear him. But his eyes hold so much hurt, so much anguish that you’ve never seen in a person before.

“I’ve had feelings for you for so long, it’s actually starting to ache. You’ve only ever seen me as this thing, this obstacle. And I’m afraid that that’s all I’ll ever be to you, because you won’t let me be anything else. You won’t—“

”That’s not true, Y/N,” Kevin sighs, looking off to the side, away from you. “I just— it’s complicated. It’s more than just being rivals.”

”So help me understand,” you frown. “Let me in, please.”

”My entire life I’ve had to work to get to where I am. I’ve fought tooth and nail to be as good of a performer as I am today. There were so many hoops I had to go through to even get into this program and— and I thought I’d finally become the best I could be. I thought that there was no way anyone could ever be better than me. And then you showed up. You and your pretty smile and your natural ability to be the best at everything you do. It was like you were the real life manifestation of all of my critics, of every challenge I faced to get here. Where I had to practice day and night to perfect something, it just came to you like second nature. During Princess and the Pauper, when I dropped you, it truly was an accident. But we’d spent so much time nailing it, that it— I just made myself feel better by saying it was your fault. ‘How could it have been my fault if I perfected it?’ I was jealous and petty and it was just easier to blame hating— to blame my indifference on you spilling coffee on my stupid shirt. For that, I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what you were waiting to hear, but it wasn’t that. Your tears turn into full on blubbering, because what the fuck? That’s so much burden for someone to carry on their shoulders for three years.

“Why are you— why are you crying?” He flounders, reaching up to swipe away your tears.

“I wish I knew… I wish I could’ve helped you somehow,” you sniffle. “Kev, I’ve always admired you and your work ethic. I hoped one day I’d be half as disciplined as you, half as determined.”

He blinks. You’re both dumb, aren’t you? Too focused on the wrong things. You both could’ve been a lot less hateful, a lot less miserable, had you just spoken your differences out. This entire rivalry has been completely one sided, but also built off of plain stupidity and ignorance. He supposes it’s not too late to make amends if you aren’t running in the opposite direction despite everything he’s put you through.

Kevin leans forward, hand still pressed to your cheek, and connects your lips softly. He’s testing the waters, making sure you’re comfortable before he continues anything. When you don’t back away just yet, he adds more force, deepening the kiss like a man starved. You whine against his lips.

This is what you’ve been wanting from him. More than what he gave you before your performance, but not what happened in the studio a few weeks ago. This desperation isn’t abashed lust, it’s unbridled affection— it’s everything he’s holed inside of himself for years, unwilling to let it see the light of day until now. If you were to label anything as perfection, it wouldn’t be a dance or a moment on stage, it would be this. Just you and Kevin finally bringing yourselves together in the most intimately emotional union.

He pulls you closer to him, hands sliding down to grasp at your waist, bunching up the thin fabric of your leotard. You can’t help but bury your fingers in his hair, tugging when he nips at your lower lip. A gasp permeates the air when his mouth travels south, along your jaw and down the side of your neck. He bites and sucks the tender skin at the base of your throat, ensuring he leaves his mark on you. This time isn’t careless, this time he has purpose. He wants everybody to know that you’re his, that you’re the only person insane enough to put up with him.

Your breathing is shaky when you reach behind you to lock the dressing room, dragging him over to the long vanity adjacent to you. He slots between your legs when you hoist yourself onto the surface. He pecks your lips and pauses his movements, rubbing up and down your thighs. In the dim, yellow lighting of the room, you look so gorgeous. He’s always thought you were beautiful, the most stunning thing he’s ever laid his eyes on, but he’s repressed it for so long. He wants to take his time staring at what he’s avoided.

”You’re so pretty,” he says quietly, kissing you again and again and again. “I don’t think I can last long with you.”

“Can we skip the foreplay?” You ask, bottom lip jutted into a pout. “Need you to just fuck me like you mean it.”

Kevin’s forehead falls to your shoulder with a groan. “I don’t deserve you,” God, he’s such an idiot for holding out from this. You should’ve been given the world and so much more. He has a lot of lost time to make up for. He kisses your shoulder with a sigh. “Yeah, baby, I can do that.”

You don’t waste another second, slipping your arms through the sleeves of your leotard. He has to bite down on his tongue when he sees that you’re braless, fingers going slack as they unbutton the rest of his silk shirt. You shimmy out of the one piece, left in nothing but the fishnet stockings you wore underneath and your lacy panties. Kevin thinks he must’ve done at least something right in a past life to experience this.

Your eyes sparkle as you look up at him, undoing his slacks and kicking them down his legs with your feet. Something takes over him when he rips a bigger hole in your stockings, pushing your underwear to the side. His thumb glides through your folds with ease, your slick providing enough lubricant. He pushes your lower lips apart while you busy yourself shoving his underwear to his ankles.

His cock slips inside of you with less friction than he would’ve thought, but he doesn’t complain, screwing his eyes shut as he acclimates to the feeling of your walls surrounding him. You moan, such a soft sound that he nearly loses his balance.

“You feel so good, baby,” he coos, digging his fingers into your hips as he rocks his own. “You’re so so perfect.”

The praise is too much for you, given the circumstances. Your brain is already cloudy, stuffed with what could only be described as cotton. You watch with half lidded eyes as he begins to piston into you at a faster speed. This all feels like a fever dream, something that was only possible in your craziest fantasies. Even then, it seemed unlikely.

“‘M close, Kev,” you whine, unable to stay still and attempting to match his thrusts.

“Already? We’ve only just started, gorgeous.” He laughs, but it’s breathy, strained from the exertion of his body. You hardly have the strength in you to be embarrassed about it, especially since he’s seen you in much worse situations.

You nod frantically, snaking a hand between you to circle your clit with nimble fingers. Kevin halts you and pulls out momentarily, sliding his cock between your folds like it was your hand. The tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves repeatedly, making you dizzier than you already were.

He presses back into you with ease, resuming his sloppy but animalistic pace. He uses his thumb to continue your handywork, your cunt fluttering around him needily. You’re both losing your sanity quickly, both going batshit insane over the bare minimum. You’ve just needed this for so long, yearned for this moment for a humiliating amount of time.

Your moans start to rise in pitch and he groans. “Fuck, baby, you can cum for me.”

He could cry, he thinks, when your back arches and your legs shake with your orgasm. It hits you like a freight train, triggering his own release just as fast.

You stay like that for a bit, regaining yourselves and comprehending everything that’s just happened. So much for the whole hating each other narrative.

“What does this mean for us?” You suddenly ask, arms hooked around Kevin’s neck. You’re still connected by your lower halves, but he makes no effort to pull away. Part of you likes it that way, it gives you hope that this isn’t a one time affair.

“It’ll be hard for things to change overnight,” he says, massaging your sides. “We have a lot of unresolved issues and insecurities that we still have to push past. But I’m willing to do that with you. I want to take a chance on us.”

Your lips pull into a smile, an expression you don’t think you’ve worn around him genuinely in the years you’ve known him. “I do, too.”

“It’s kind of ironic that it was a performance that tore us apart and brought us back together, don’t you think?” He laughs.

“And we fucked in the dressing room…” You add, glancing to the top corner where a security camera is stationed.

“Maybe we should get out of here before someone checks the footage,” he suggests. “Tau Beta Zeta is conveniently hosting our end of semester party tonight, do you wanna be my plus one?”

“I would be honored.” You grin, pecking his lips tenderly.

Perhaps happy endings existed after all.

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[miumura]

( 🚋 ) NOT OUR LAST GOODBYE — KOGA YUDAI FIC

[ DAY THIRTEEN ] of the advent calendar !

( 🚋 ) SYNOPSIS . . . after a heated argument with K, little did you expect that the last time you’d see him would be at his departure, after leaving you in silence for days.

( — ) PAIRING . . . best-friend!k x gn!reader FT. EJ &TEAM

( 🚋 ) GENRE . . . angst lolz, misunderstandings, friends 2 …?

( — ) WARNINGS . . . INSPIRED BY THE MOVIE “20TH CENTURY GIRL” (sorry guys), k and reader kinda frustrating ..

( 🚋 ) NOTE . . . Hi!! Super late Sorry!! but originally this wasn’t even gonna be angst if i be honest … but train station … 20th century girl … so yes!!! also pretend the pics above give christmassy vibes LMAO it js seemed right to keep it like this and yes i can hear u quivering miles away Ms Sonata 😊

Once again, and unsurprisingly, K had missed yet another hangout. You really tried waiting and being considerate, but not even him in sight. Seated alone in the cafe with two drinks you bought with your own money, frustration grew. The plans had been made two weeks prior, and despite K's assurances, he was nowhere to be found.

Unable to bear it any longer, you navigated to your contact list and pressed on his icon, hoping for an explanation. Anxiously biting your nails, you waited through two beeps until he answered with a casual, "Hello?" Your scoff was loud enough for him to hear, a response to his nonchalant greeting after ditching another hangout without any warning.

"Again?"

"Huh?" Did he genuinely believe he had the right to question you after what just happened?

"Are you serious right now? You just missed another hangout, K." His mumbled apology reached your ears, sounding like he was cursing himself for even forgetting. "Damn it—I'm so sorry, YN. Can I make it up to you tomorrow?"

"You've got to be kidding me." You couldn’t help the anger slowly rising in you. “I’m here, waiting in the cold for you just to not show up again?” The hot air escaped your mouth as you scoffed. “You know, you shouldn’t suggest ideas for a winter hangout if you’re just going to not appear.”

"It—it just slipped my mind! I'm sorry," K explained, but you weren't buying it. You've let him slide too many times.

“It just ‘slipped out of your mind’? We planned his hangout 2 weeks prior—you even promised to show up today! Do you think I’m really going to buy that bullshit?”

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that but—”

“You say this all the time. What the hell have you been doing?”

“Listen—I just…” You could hear him trail off, as if restraining himself from saying more. What could he be hiding that's so important? “I’ve been busy.”

“And so have I? But I've always spared time to hang out with you and show up to everything you schedule. And suddenly you can't show up to something we both agreed on? K, you're slowly becoming distant with me.”

“It's not like I'm trying to!” He lowered his tone, recognizing his anger taking hold. “I just couldn’t do it today. It’s just—it’s not something I can tell you that easily.”

“I'm your best friend, what the hell do you mean?”

“I—I can't say. Not right now.”

“You really have to be an idiot if you think I'm gonna believe that. This friendship can’t work if you’re like this.” You pushed your hair back in frustration. "I get it, you're busy. But this is a pattern, K. A pattern I can't keep ignoring," you stated firmly.

"I know, YN. I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you," K continued apologizing.

"I've heard enough apologies, K. You're not the only one with a busy life," you replied, frustration evident in your voice.

"Please, just give me another chance."

But the more he apologized, the more irritated you became. "I need some space, K. Figure out what's going on with you. We'll talk later."

“But YN—”

“Just leave me alone, will you?” You angrily said, clearly sick of his pleading. “You clearly have no problem doing so, it seems like, anyways.” Without another word, you hung up, leaving K with the dial tone and a realization that he screwed up real bad.

And you’ve made it your goal to make him feel how you felt every time he ditches you.

DAY ONE. K attempted to act as if everything was okay, anticipating that you'd eventually give in and talk to him as you always did. Little did he know, you were determined to make him feel the weight of his actions—even if it felt harsh.

“Hey YN,” he greeted, met with your silent response.

“You need help?” you simply shook your head.

“Wanna go together?” He tried once more, but you walked away without a word.

Undoubtedly, a sense of guilt crept in, but the memory of that night kept replaying in your mind, fueling the anger you harbored toward him. K seemed to notice the shift, creating awkward moments and growing distant—much like that regrettable day.

You didn't care; in your eyes, it was deserved.

DAY THREE. You're enduring the silence longer than you initially thought. Ignoring him, refusing to even cross paths, felt strange considering how inseparable you used to be. School had become a bit dull without him, but you were determined to hold out for a week…right?

“Are you seriously not going to talk to him?” EJ asked, straw twirling between his fingers. “You're really creeping me out.” He says, as if you aren’t supposed to be the one creeped out by him instead for drinking an Iced Americano during the first days of winter.

“What do you mean?” you blew onto your cup, closing the lid back to take a sip of your coffee.

“You never hold grudges like this—what's up with you?”

“Okay...but he messed up.”

“Did you hear him out?” EJ maintained eye contact, sipping his drink. “Not blaming you or anything, just wondering.”

“Well…no.”

“YN…”

“Well—if he wanted to, he would’ve reached out by now!” you tried defending yourself, but he was already sighing.

“You’re both too stubborn, aren’t you guys?” EJ shook his head, smiling a little. “Give him another chance—oh look, he’s right there,” he pointed, making you whip your head around, only to turn back to EJ when your eyes accidentally met.

“I have to go,” you hurriedly grabbed your bag, saying a quick goodbye. “Thanks, EJ!”

“YN, your drink—” But you were already running off, footsteps following closely behind. You wanted him to reach out, yet here you were, fleeing and feeling like a loser. But facing him seemed unbearable in your current state of embarrassment.

“YN,” a familiar voice called out, a hand on your arm, pulling you toward him. His warmth had such a contrast from the chilling weather today. You turned around, finding K with a serious expression. “Can we please talk?”

You wanted to be petty. For some reason, having K reach out first, you weren't going to make it easy for him. “I don't think there's anything we need to talk about.”

“Can you stop being like that and just talk to me?”

“Like what? Just some lame excuse about why you're missing time with me?”

“It's not useless—” K scoffed, running his free hand through his hair, locking eyes with you. “Do you really think I'm just here to tell you the same stuff I've been saying all the time?”

“So you've been lying?”

“That's not what I'm trying to say—”

“I've heard enough.” You tried to pull away from his grasp, but he held on, disappointment evident in his eyes. “YN, what is so hard about sparing a minute of your day? Why is it so hard for you to fucking listen?”

You took a deep breath. “Me? How about you, huh? Have you ever listened to me? Do you think you have the right to say that to me with all this shit you’re doing to me?”

“YN—”

“Here’s your answer then. Because I've spent so much time waiting for you to explain, and you only choose to do it now.” You give him a stern look. “I’m tired of hearing your bullshit—your constant, useless reassurances when you clearly don’t keep your word!”

“I'm tired of waiting for you.”

“YN! Please–”

You turned on your heel, determined to walk away and put an end to the conversation. As you took your first steps, a part of you hoped he would chase after you, while another part was tired of hoping for something that seemed uncertain.

K stood there, conflicted. He debated in his mind whether to let you go or chase after you once again. He longed to. He longed to reveal everything to you. Yet, was it the right moment? Were you even in the proper state of mind to even grasp onto his words? Letting out a substantial sigh, K pivoted, reluctant as he was, and proceeded to walk away from you, leaving you both to walk on two different pathways.

DAY FIVE. K hasn't been showing up to class for the past two days. You felt guilty – you didn't know why, but you had this nagging feeling that it was somehow your fault. EJ quickly picked up on your changed demeanor, his face reflecting concern. As you walked home together, he blurted out, "Did you say goodbye to him?"

You turned to him, confusion etched on your face. You had no idea what EJ was getting at, and he wasn't sure if you even understood the gravity of his words. "Say goodbye to who?"

"To K...?" he hesitated, confirming his suspicions when your expression shifted to one of shock; you were completely unaware. EJ wished he could vanish on the spot.

"EJ, that's not funny." You looked at him, not seeing his joking face he’d usually have. “You’re joking…right?”

"Well, I'm being serious. I'm not the type to joke about that."

“Why did I have to say goodbye?”

“He’s leaving today, YN. Did he not tell you?”

“Can we please talk?” You didn’t hear him out.

“YN, what is so hard about sparing a minute of your day? Why is it so hard for you to fucking listen?” He wanted to tell you something important. It was your fault.

“YN! Please–” It was your fault. All yours. No one to blame this time.

“You mean like…right now?” You looked at EJ, hoping you still had time to make things right with K. With glossy eyes, you could see his hurt expression, knowing what you had put yourself through. “Yeah. About to leave at the train station nearby.”

“I have to go.”

“YN! Be careful; you might get hurt–” You didn’t care. You didn’t care if you were going to get scrapes on your legs, you didn’t care if EJ was yelling your name—nothing could hurt more than losing a best friend that you didn’t leave off on good terms.

You ran as fast as you could, disregarding the chill in the air and the sting in your lungs. The train station came into view, and there he was—K, standing with a suitcase, staring into the distance. Your heart raced as you approached him, a mix of relief and fear coursing through your veins.

"K!" you called out, breathless.

He turned to you, surprise and uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "YN? What are you doing here?"

"I... I heard you were leaving," you panted, trying to catch your breath. "I had to see you before you go."

He sighed, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I messed up, YN. I messed up big time, and I'm sorry."

"Let's talk about it," you urged, reaching out to touch his arm.

"I thought it was too late for a conversation," your heart shattered upon hearing those words. "But it was my fault anyway. I should've been truthful with you."

"Quit blaming yourself. It wasn't your fault—it was mine. I should've been more empathetic." Tears threatened to spill over as you maintained intense eye contact with him, your insides twisting with emotion.

“I didn’t mean to avoid you,” K began, his eyes searching yours for understanding.

“I know I messed up too,” you admitted. “I should have listened instead of shutting you out. I should’ve not said those things to you either.”

He nodded, a sad smile playing on his lips. “We both made mistakes, didn't we? But, let’s not worry too much about it—we’ll get over it like we always do. I’m leaving for a while, but I don’t want us to end like this. I care about you—damn, I even like you, YN," he said, causing you to gasp a little. "I’m sorry if this is too sudden—I just don’t know if I’d be able to tell you this any other day."

As you stood there, absorbing his unexpected confession, the reality of the situation sank in. "K, why didn't you tell me earlier?" you questioned, a mix of emotions clouding your mind.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I was scared, afraid it would ruin our friendship. But now, facing the distance, I couldn't hold it back any longer."

“K—” The train's arrival interrupted your conversation, and K looked at you with hopeful eyes. "I'll be back, YN. Let's talk when I return, okay?" he pleaded.

You nodded, and he pulled you into a hug, and for a moment, it felt like everything might be okay. “You should go,” K whispered, releasing you from the embrace.

“Take care, okay?” you said, holding back tears.

“You too, YN. I hope we can figure things out when I come back,” he said, a mixture of hope and uncertainty in his eyes.

"You promise to come back?"

"You know me. Who am I to fail to keep my promises—well, besides about the hangouts," he joked, attempting to lighten the mood. You smiled, finding comfort in his smile. "Then can you promise me on this one, and try not to break it?"

"I promise," he extended his pinky finger, waiting for you to interlock with him. Once you did, the warmth of his hand—similar from last time—transferred to yours, making it such a bittersweet moment. He brought his hand closer, kissing the side of your hand. "Hope that wasn't too sudden."

He smiled at your blushing face, releasing your hand. He had noticed how little layers you were wearing—did you really run like this just to see him? Taking the scarf of his neck, he wrapped it around yours, looking at you lovingly. "I'll do something sweeter next time. See you later, yeah?" You nodded, and he finally carried his bags to the train.

As K stepped onto the train, you stood there, gazing into his tear-filled eyes. How badly he didn’t want to cry in front of you. Waving, you declared, "I like you too, K!"

His heart warmed slightly. "I can't hear you," he teased, as he would've done by your side. Smiling, you shouted, "I like you so much!"

The doors closed, and you glimpsed K crying. Witnessing his tears always tugged at your heartstrings, and your own tears flowed uncontrollably. The train started moving, and as K disappeared from view, you stood there with tears streaming down your face. The reality of his departure hit you hard. "Come back soon," you whispered to the wind, as if it could carry your message to him.

Your heart felt heavy, and you couldn't shake off the overwhelming sense of loss. As you wiped away your tears, you realized how much K meant to you and how the abrupt end to your argument had turned into a farewell.

Walking away from the train station, you carried the weight of mixed emotions. The confession, the unspoken feelings, and the promise of a future conversation lingered in the air. Most importantly, the emptiness lingered, but the promise of a reunion kept you going. Determined to make things right when he returned, you whispered to yourself,

“I’ll wait for you, K.”

ADVENT CALENDAR MLIST — @en-dream @i-yeseo @yizhoutv @yuma-is-mine @wtfhyuck @sansfransisco

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 16

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Happy Wednesday. I didn't have to change this because apparently the last time I updated was also a Wednesday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You look in the mirror, the steam receding to the frame. You look tired. You feel it. 

You put away the bottles you used for your bath and try some of the brown sugar moisturizer, hoping it might ease the dry spots left from the friction of your pillow. You cap it and place it in the basket with the rest.

You hang your towel on the rack and flip back the silver tab of the lock. You come out into the hall and nearly trip on your own toes. Andy stands casually against the wall, a dark blue towel folded over one arm, his phone in his other hand as he looks at you over the top.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I hope… hope I didn't take too long…"

"Nah, haven't been waiting long," he smiles and scratches his beard, a few tufts out of place as you hear the coarse graze of his fingertips, "sleep okay?"

You lie, "yes…You?"

"God knows I tried," he shrugs as he stands straight, "pretty shaken by the cops swinging by, you know?"

"Uh, sure," you tuck your lip under your teeth, "sorry–"

"You're not the one who needs to apologize," he waves you off and taps his thumb on the side button of his phone, crossing his arms, a gesture that emphasizes his size. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something before I start the day."

"Oh?" Your brows squiggle together. What have you done wrong now?

"Did you wanna come to the library? I figured if you need to put together a resume for your application I could get together a few resources. It'd be a quiet place to work." He looks almost nervous as you watch his hand squeeze his phone tighter, knuckles white, "we could get some tea down at the cafe, maybe some lunch?"

You consider him and his request. It isn't a bad idea. You don't know where to start with a resume. You only imagine a blank piece of paper, as empty as your life. You try to smile, your cheeks dimpling painfully.

"Okay," you agree. 

You don't know you have the courage to say no. It is his house and it's a thoughtful idea. Amber always said you should get out when you feel grey… Amber…

"I'll go get my tablet," you say to chase away your sadness, "thanks, Andy."

"No problem," he takes a breath, relief uncoiling the tension from him. Had he really been so anxious? "You're the one doing me a favour, so thank you."

"I am?"

"Yeah, I won't complain for the company and it'll give me something to look forward to," he moves towards the bathroom door as you sidle out of his way. His hand seems to float over your shoulder just before you elude it. Instead he presses it to the door. "I'll try to hurry."

🕊️

It feels almost surreal to be back at the library. It's a reminder of everything that's happened. All that's changed.

Andy brings you in with him as he opens. You stand at the counter and watch him. He does everything with graceful certainty. It makes you insecure, there's nothing you know how to do so effortlessly.

When the library opens, it remains quiet. Andy gathers a few books for reference and you take them to the basement, wary of getting in his way as the first patrons arrive. You're much more comfortable in the isolated underground. 

You claim your usual spot and prop your tablet up in its case sideways. You open a book and delve into the basic formatting of a resume. You type your name at the top but the next line stumps you. Address? What do you put? Andy's? You don't even know it.

You skip that and put your email. Phone number? Yeah, not that either.

You work slowly. Your frustration mounts as you distract yourself with making neat margins and inserting lines over inputting any information. You have nothing to add. No skills, no experience, no value. 

You put your head in your hands and take a deep breath. You're overwhelmed by this simple task. How can you expect to have a job? Like Andy and Amber and everyone else. Everything that is so easy for them is almost impossible for you. You are dumb and worthless.

You stay like that for a while, staring at the table, fighting back tears. What are you going to tell Andy? That you're a loser. That all those expectations he has, you can't meet. Maybe you deserve everything you get, maybe Amber didn't deserve the blight of your existence.

"You're here," her voice draws your head up, as if you summoned her with your thoughts.

You blink, not believing she's real. Amber rushes forward and you sit back, staring wide eyed, terrified at her. She winces and stays on the other side of the table.

"What… why are you looking at me like that?" She clasps her hands together, "please, just listen, please," she pulls out the chair and sits, stretching and arm across the table, "I'm not here to argue–"

"How did you find me?"

"It's not that hard, I know you. I'm your sister."

You fold your arms, shrinking down, brow furrowing, heart sinking. Why is she doing this? She's only her to make you feel worse.

"I'm not here to argue, alright? I just want you to hear me."

"You called the police," you accuse.

"You left in the middle of the night," she hisses, "what was I supposed to do? I was scared."

"And so was I," you snap back. "I'm fine…" you look down and spread your hands over the pages, pushing the book flat, "I'm going to get a job."

She pauses and looks down at the book. She leans in and nods.

"That's great," she forces out stuntedly, "I can help if–"

"No," you shake your head.

She sits back and sighs, "what did I do?" 

"I told you. I'm not a child."

"I know you aren't, bubba."

"Bubba?! You talk to me like I am."

She seals her lips and swallows your word with another nod. She puts her hands on the table, as if steadying herself.

"Right, I'm not going to talk to you like a child. I'm just going to say what I came to say and you can choose to hear me or not." She takes a breath and sets her jaw, "that man does not want to help you. You can't see it but he doesn't want what's best for you, I do.

"I know you've made your choice but it's the wrong one. I can't change your mind, police said they won't bring you back, but I can at least try to talk some sense into you. You do what you want, be the adult you claim to be, but at the end of the day, you're my sister and you always will be.

"Bubba, if this all goes wrong, when it does, I will be waiting. My door is open. Today, tomorrow, in a week, a year, whenever you need me–"

She shudders as her eyes glisten and she puts her palm to her chest, "please just think about what you're doing."

You drop your chin. Your heart clenches. Amber always sounds right. She's always been there but you just can't go back. It feels cowardly to change your mind just because you have to do things for yourself. 

And you just don't believe her. You want to so bad but you see what she's doing. Andy showed you what to look for; she's playing the victim. She hurt you, you didn't hurt her. She couldn't handle you being out of control and now she's panicking.

"Bub…" she utters. You just stare at your lap. "Let me know if you need anything. I'll bring you whatever you want–"

"Hoovering," you whisper, tilting your head up slightly at Amber's confused hum, "it's when a narcissist tries to win back someone they lost. Through spontaneous contact and making empty promises…"

"Bubba, how– I wouldn’t do that."

"I thought you wouldn't… before."

She lingers for a moment. She stands slowly and fixes her purse on her shoulder. She looms over the table and lets out a shallow breath that sounds like a sob.

"You know I'll pick up the phone. I'll be there…" she drags her fingers across the table, "whenever you need me."

She hesitates before she turns to leave. You hear her gulping as she steps between the shelves and steps shuffle out from the staircase.

"Hey, what are you–" Andy's accusation fills the silence, "dove! Are you okay?"

"Shut up," Amber growls, "and don't touch me." You look up as she shoves away his hand on her arm, "I'm leaving…" her voice is sticky with repressed grief, "she won't listen. Are you happy you fucking monster?"

He squares his shoulders and looks at her, glares down his nose, "I'm helping her. Something you never did."

"Fuck yourself. If you hurt her, I will–"

"That won't work. You're not going to stand here and scare her," he snarls, "so go."

They lock in a staredown before Amber elbows past him, marching to the stairs and stopping to look back down at the aisle. You sink down and cover your face. You feel a pit swallowing up. This shouldn't be so hard. None of it. Writing this damn resume or living your own life. It's so hard.

🕊️

You sit in the cafe, watching the street through the window from your seat in the corner. You feel as if you're outside your own body, like you're floating over the pedestrians, watching from some secret tower. You close your eyes and see the blank document etched into your retinas. 

The clink of a dish brings your head up. You sit back, limp and barely able to support your own weight. You just feel empty.

Andy sets down a sandwich before you, beside the steaming tea you hadn't touched. He gives a sheepish smile as your eyes bore past him. He sits and places a napkin beside you plate.

Neither the sight or scent of food can stir your appetite. You can't even remember the last time you ate. Last night you pushed around the casserole noodles until he stopped paying attention.

"Looks good," he says as he reaches for his foamy coffee. "I grabbed a little surprise for dessert tonight," he says as he sets his cup down and pats his jacket pocket.

You nod and clear your throat. The simple act hurts.

"Thank you," you force out.

"Well," he hovers his hand over his plate, "dig in. It looks delicious and I'm sure you're starving."

"Uh, sure," you drone and consider the thick sandwich; a croissant stacked with turkey and swiss, a leaf of lettuce and slice of tomato peeking out.

You grab your cup instead and take a swig. You hum, "I didn't even try my tea," you distract him, "how's your coffee?"

"Good, mocha usually isn't my thing but not bad. Gotta try new things, right, dove?"

"Mhmm," you peel away the edge of the lettuce and make yourself nibble it. It tastes awful. Everything is terrible.

"Been a good day, so far, not too busy," he carries on, "how's the resume coming?"

You shrug, "not done…"

He clucks and nods, letting out a long breath. He leans forward and picks up his ham and cheddar on rye. He takes a bite as you tear away some of the croissant and pretend to chew on the end.

"So… guess we should talk," he swallows, "about your sister."

"I don't want to," you whine, "please–"

"I need to know what she said, honey. To protect you. Like last night, hm? When she sent the cops after you like some criminal."

"She was only worried," you rebuff.

"About herself. About making herself feel better by standing on your back," he puts and elbow on the table, lowering his brow in a serious way, "I tell you every day you can do anything, and what did she ever do but tell you not to even try."

You frown. Your heart is in pieces. You don't want to be here. You don't want to be anywhere.

"I'll keep working on my resume," you say, "I'll be done it soon."

He huffs and sniffs at his sandwich before taking another bite. He is silent as he swallows, his gaze weighing on you.

"We can get a box if you wanna take that back with you. No eating in the stacks but just don't let anyone see."

"Thank you, Andy," you say, "I'll be hungry later for sure."

"Mhmm," he taps his foot under the table, letting the silence hang.

You cross your arms and sit back, looking past him to the street again. You wish you had somewhere to be with a briefcase, or were running to catch a bus, you wish you had any purpose but to be a burden.

🕊️

You put the casserole in as Andy mutters to himself and flips through the channels. He says there's some ball game on. You're happy he at least had something to fill the void of your conversations.

You wait in the kitchen. You watch the timer countdown and when it dings you take out the pan. You set it on the counter and scoop out a healthy helping into a plate. You take a fork and knife and rest it on the rim, going to stand in the archway that looks into the front room.

"Do you wanna eat here or at the table?"

Andy looks over, his arm stretched over the back cushion of the grey couch.

"I'll come eat with you," he volunteers as he sits forward.

"No, it's okay. I'm going to lay down… I have a headache."

"A headache? I have advil," his forehead creases with concern.

"Already took something. I think it's going to rain…"

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I… was looking forward to eating together."

"It's okay. Tomorrow," you promise, "please, enjoy and watch your game."

His mouth slants as you approach and put the plate on the coffee table. You feel uneven and wobbly. You just want to sleep until you can't wake up.

"I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow," you step back and hide a yawn behind your hand.

"I hope so," he says, "I'll check on you before I turn in. Just to make sure you're okay."

"You don't have to…"

"I want to," he insists, "you know where to find me if you need anything.'

You slowly back away. You turn and drag your feet to the door. You don't need anything but to be alone.

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem. But sometimes, you just need a little bit of love... and a little bit of science.

Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men | @nerdisthenewcool | @lilypadmomentum

Chapter 24

[Prev] [Next]

The first blood test was positive.  And then the second one a week after that.  So were the three at-home pregnancy tests you took.  You’d be remiss to deny the fact that your breasts had been so unbelievably sore, so painful in fact that the days you spent home from work had you completely rejecting the very idea of wearing a bra.  Still trying not to get your hopes up, you kept your symptoms to yourself and to Law (who was very disappointed at the fact that hugging you in the front had become painful).  

And now, two full weeks after your first blood test, you were sitting with Penguin at a table outside a cafe.  A large umbrella was open above you, shielding you from the sun as you anxiously tapped your fingers on the metal table, waiting for the call from your doctor.

Your anxiety was practically oozing out of you like sludge, and it was definitely affecting Penguin.  He took off his hat and rubbed the back of his palm over his forehead, crinkling his nose.  “Please don’t pass out on me, I don’t know how to do CPR.”

You rested your head in your palm, placing your phone screen-down on the table.  “I promise I won’t.  I’m sorry for being such a bummer, I know you were looking forward to lunch today.”

Your friend waved his hand in the air reassuringly after putting his hat back on his head.  His black hair had begun receding recently, and he’d been covering his hairline more than he usually had.  “Nah, don’t sweat it.  I just want to make sure you’re alright, that’s all.”  When he finished his sentence, he pushed your glass of melting ice water closer to you.  You chuckled, grabbing the glass and taking a long sip out of the straw.

“So what’s your schedule like, anyway?” he asked, poking through the small cafe menu.  “Like, if this next test comes back positive, then what?”

You resisted the urge to check your phone once more.  “If this one comes back positive, I’ll have another blood test in a week.  And then if that one shows normal signs of progression, I’ll continue to have them done weekly.  I’m not sure how long that will last, but I’m getting kinda tired of seeing my blood in tiny plastic tubes.”

Penguin snorted.  “They probably have enough of your blood to keep someone alive at this point.”

“They should give it back to me,” you joked, taking another generous sip of your water.

The man across from you closed his small paper menu, having decided what he was going to order when the waitress came back.  “So how’s Law been doing?  I feel like I haven’t talked to him in a while.”

You grinned at the question.  “He’s been alright, he’s been pretty stressed too over this, but I think he’s been able to distract himself with his shifts at the hospital.  He’s been working more since he got home from his trip, I think he’s trying to make up for being gone for a week.”

Penguin laughed.  “Sounds like him, alright.”  He rested his own head in his hand.  “If you really are pregnant, and everything is going normally, do you think he’ll take more time off?”

A sigh left your lips.  “It’s wishful thinking, but I honestly doubt it.  And it’s not his fault, he just works a really time-consuming and taxing job.  It’s hard for both of us, but when he is home he makes all the time in the world for me.  And because he has such long working days, sometimes he gets multiple days off in a row, which is nice.”

“That’ll be nice for the baby, too,” Penguin added.

Your heart swelled at the thought.  Ever since having your eggs implanted, your mind had been melting with thoughts of Law’s paternal side coming out.  You couldn’t wait to see the way he’d hold his child, kissing their forehead, cleaning them in a tiny baby bathtub, singing to them as they fell asleep even though he hated being heard singing by anyone.  The mere thoughts made your thighs clench.  Some hormonal instinct in you to see your man become a father, you guessed.

“It would be nice,” you added, your voice airy.  It was like you were floating on a blissful cloud.

Penguin laughed at the sight.  “God, you’re smitten.  It’s fucking adorable.”

You hid your face in your hands to mask your embarrassment, making your friend bark out a laugh at your sorry state.  The waitress returned in due time, taking your small orders before leaving again with your menus.  You were starting to have deja vu from your brunch with Ikkaku before your second miscarriage.

The thought of your own best friend gave you a thought.

“Hey, so I have a question for you,” you blurted, attracting his attention.

He took a sip of his own water and gazed at you through his narrow brown eyes.

“Have you told Shachi that you like him yet, or are you two ‘still just roommates’?” you asked, holding up your fingers in air quotes to punctuate your words.

The statement made Penguin groan as he pulled his hat further down onto his head, hiding his eyes with a thick shadow.  “No.  I don’t know what he’ll say.”

You smiled sympathetically at the man.  You, Law, and Ikkaku had been rooting for Penguin ever since he broke up with your best friend after your college graduation with your bachelor’s degrees, realizing he was gay the entire time.  The terms were mutual, as Ikkaku began dating a woman soon after, but Penguin moved in with Shachi and was convinced he’d never find love after finding himself so late in life.  But then he fell for Shachi… and fell hard.

“I guess I’m just worried that things will be too awkward if I tell him now that we’ve been living together as roommates for, like, five years,” he explained.  “I’m already paying half of the rent.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” you began.  “Shachi’s been talking about you a lot more.  Like, a lot.”

Penguin picked his head up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.  “Really?”

You nodded.  “I wouldn’t lie to you about love, Pen, you know me.”

The man across from you leaned back in his chair.  “What if I tell him and he doesn’t feel the same way?”

“Then you talk it out like adults and continue being roommates,” you stated.  “Simple.  Easy-peasy.”

“You make it sound easier than it looks,” he grumbled, but a small smile lay on his lips.  “You and Law had it easy.”

“Bullshit.  Law hated me when we first met.”

The memory made the two of you chuckle.  Law’s unwillingness to open up, how it took him almost an entire year to admit that he could possibly be in love, and be in love with you, the snarky graphic design student who infiltrated his gen ed study group.

And now here you were, a wedding ring on your left hand and hoping so desperately for a child with him.

Penguin was grinning widely at you, making you falter.  “What’s got you smiling so wide?”

Your friend dropped his hand.  “Just thinking about how proud I am of you two.”

Before you had the chance to reply, or even register your heart doing somersaults in your chest, your phone began vibrating on the table.  You snatched it up with the speed of a falcon diving for a mouse, your eyes growing wide at the number on the screen.  The lab.  Penguin knew without you even having to speak.

“Hello?” you asked wearily into the receiver.

[Hello, is this Mrs. Trafalgar?  This is Nurse Nojiko from the outpatient laboratory.]

You nodded to no one in particular.  “Yes, this is her.”

[Perfect, I wanted to inform you that the results of your test have come back positive!  I have updated your patient portal with the information, and you should be receiving a call from your doctor within the next day or so.]

Your heart swelled.  “Th-Thank you so much!”

[Of course, hun, have a great rest of your day, alright?]

You promptly shared your goodbyes before you tapped the end call button, placing your device back down on the table.  Your wide eyes darted up to meet Penguin’s.  He was already smiling.

“Positive?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

“Positive,” you confirmed.

He had absolutely no care in the world if he caused a scene.  He bolted upright from his chair and dragged you out of your’s, pulling you into a bone crushing hug that made you stifle a yelp due to the pressure on your chest.  

You frantically whispered into his ear.  “Penguin, my boobs hurt like shit.”

“Crap,” he pulled away from you, holding your shoulders.  “I’m sorry!”

You were giggling as you had to resist the urge to fondle your breasts in public, trying to get the pain to die down based on willpower alone.  “It’s okay, they’ve been really sore lately.”

“Is that a symptom of pregnancy?” he asked, sitting back in his chair.

You pursed your lips for a moment.  “I think so, but I’m still trying not to get my hopes up.  The last two times, they never got as sore as they are now.”

Penguin flashed a toothy grin.  “I’m considering that a win.”

You smiled to yourself, still fighting the anxious pang in your heart.  You grabbed your phone once more to send Law a text message.  He was scheduled for a very large and very taxing surgery for the day, so you were sure he wouldn’t respond until much later, but you eagerly sent the text anyway.

Hi baby, im out for lunch with Peng.  The fifth test came back positive, i just got the call!!!  Im still going to lay low for a bit because my tits hurt for shit.  I love you, i’ll call you if anything urgent comes up but dont feel pressured to respond if youre busy!  I love you again!!!  Love you!!!!

—

Law’s circulating nurse had his passcode memorized at this point.  When his phone buzzed in her pocket, he simply gave her permission to check it with a curt nod, barely tearing his eyes away from the open chest cavity in front of him.

The anesthesiologist beside the patient saw the way the nurse’s eyes lit up while reading whatever message had come through.  “What does it say?”

“Doctor,” she began, her smile reaching her ears.  “Your wife’s fifth test came back positive.”

The entire operating room buzzed with muted excitement at the news, keeping their attention focused on the patient, but clearly radiating with optimism.  Law had been keeping his team up-to-date with his progress on what his nurses called ‘The Kid Conundrum,’ and seeing his entire crew quietly celebrate over the news of your latest positive test made a smile crawl to his lips below his surgical mask.

“Attention on the patient,” he stated.

The entire team could hear the broad smile in his voice.

—

Seven positive pregnancy tests, and almost eight weeks since your implantation day.  You and Law were in a different ultrasound room in a different clinic, due to Robin being out of office for the week with her husband (a thought that made Law cower).  You were laying on the cold, unfamiliar table as Law sat across the room from you, the usual set up.  He had the entire week off of work, which he had been spending glued to your side.  Your symptoms had been fairly taxing lately, your breasts being more tender than they had ever been.  You had even started swelling somewhat in your lower belly, but partnered with general morning discomfort, you chalked it up to regular pregnancy bloating.

Not that you were complaining about any of the symptoms.  If anything, they were relieving.  Signs that you were actually pregnant… with a living fetus.

You stared at the ceiling as the gel was smeared on your belly and as the sound of the ultrasound machine whirred to life.  The technician doing your scan was sitting on a swiveling stool as she worked, another nurse behind her to help assess your condition.

“So how many weeks along does your doctor think you are?” she asked, keeping her eyes glued to the screen as she pressed the transducer to your skin, locating your uterus.

“About eight weeks or so, I think,” you replied.

She nodded, going silent as she rubbed the wand over your belly.  She adjusted it slightly, then moved it again.  The nurse behind her appeared to lean in toward the screen, her eyes growing wide.

Their silence made your heart rate begin to pick up.

“You said you had IVF, right?” she asked.

Growing even more anxious, you nodded against the pillow behind your head.  “Yes… that’s correct.”

Law leaned over in his chair to try to get a glimpse of the monitor screen.

The wand was moved over your skin a few extra times before the nurse reached up and turned the monitor toward you.  Her finger hovered over your uterus.  “Do you see that?”

You gazed at the screen, slowly picking apart what you were viewing.

The outline of your uterus was there, clear as day, or as clear as it could be through an ultrasound image.  Inside of your uterine bubble, however, sat two black splotches, each with a tiny white speck inside.

Law stood from his chair, his eyes blown wide.

“Mrs. Trafalgar, there's two babies in there.”

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Part 2

Word Count: 4.8k

Genre: smut, angst

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again. 

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous. 

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before? 

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams. 

Warnings: unhealthy relationships, jealousy, dom!reader, sub!beomgyu, riding, toys, orgasm denial.

If you want to commission me, click here.

Now that Taehyun is working with you, Beomgyu is not content to just drive you to work as he always does. No, now he has to walk you inside, arm wrapped tightly around you to make sure everyone, especially Taehyun, knows you’re claimed.

“Oh, hey.” Taehyun greets when he sees you. “You look beautiful today.” 

You don’t get the chance to properly glare at him for purposefully annoying your boyfriend before Beomgyu twists you around and smashes your lips together, pulling you into a kiss that is far too indecent for public.  

Yet another co-worker snorts. "We get it dude. She's yours. Are you gonna pee on her to claim your territory too?"

Your cheeks flame up and you shove Beomgyu away, absolutely mortified by the spectacle he has made of you. “Beomgyu!”

“What? Don’t want him to see who you belong to?” He asks, daring to sound upset at you.  

“Everyone knows we’re dating. Get your head out of your ass.” You smack his hands completely off you, livid at his underhanded accusation. 

“Wouldn’t hurt to remind him.” He mutters, and you roll your eyes, ushering him out of the cafe before you get fired for an indecent act in the workplace. “Leave. You’ve done enough.” 

You don’t give him the chance to respond before you step back into the restaurant and slam the door in his face, trying your best to avoid everyone’s gaze. You quickly get dressed then step behind the counter, getting the orders ready for the customers streaming in, trying to shake off the strong sense of deja-vu you felt at the way Beomgyu behaved. Those dream are really messing you up. 

“Your boyfriend really doesn’t like me, huh?” Taehyun comments, working alongside you. 

“Don’t take it personally. He gets jealous easily.” You sigh, brushing it off. 

“It sure feels personal though. It’s like I killed his cat in the past or something.” 

“Funny you should say that.” You snort, but don’t elaborate, not wanting to deal with another guy ridiculing you for your dreams.

But Taehyun is intrigued, and he doesn’t drop it. “What do you mean?”

“Forget about it.” You brush him off, handing a customer their drink with a forced smile, but that makes him even more curious. As you go to make another drink, he takes the coffee pot from your hand, forcing you to look at him. “No, tell me.”

“Taehyun, there are customers waiting.” You snap but he just shrugs. “So? They can survive five minutes without their morning lattes.” 

You give him a pointed look. “Yeah? Have you met our clientele? They’re mean when they’re low on caffeine.” 

“I can handle it. Just tell me.” He reassures you, but conspicuously starts making a new drink. 

“Okay fine, but don’t laugh. You asked for it.” He nods, waiting patiently for you to explain. “So I keep having these dreams about me and Beomgyu in another life, a past life. He’s a prince and I’m a lady of the court and we want to be together but we can’t because he’s betrothed to someone else and so everything is all fucked up but we love each other so much and want to be with each other anyway. It’s all very fanciful and silly but then again the dreams are so vivid, it’s like I’m really there. It feels more real than my actual memories, you know?”

He nods, a small smirk on his face that tells you that he doesn’t really buy what you’re saying–you don’t really buy what you’re saying either–but he’s kind enough to hold his tongue and not make fun of you like Beomgyu does.

“Anyway, you’ve been appearing in the dreams lately too.” That catches his interest, and he listens even more intently. “You’re this powerful lord from another city and we start getting close which dream Beomgyu really hates. He tries so hard to keep us apart that he even ends up locking me in my room so I wouldn’t see you but you sneak in to see me anyway, and then… Well, I don’t know what. That’s all I know so far. He basically wants to kill you because you won’t stay away from me. Dream him, I mean… though, I’m not too sure real Beomgyu doesn’t want to kill you too.”

“Oh, please, I can take him.” He says confidently and you look him over. Sure, he looks like he’d be able to take Beomgyu. Physically he appears stronger than your boyfriend, but there is just something about Beomgyu you don’t like to think about that causes the hairs at the back of your neck to stand up.  

“Anyway, that is all very intense.” He finally says, “You have quite the imagination.” 

“I knew it. You think it’s stupid.” You flush, embarrassed that you revealed all of this to him. 

“No, no. It’s not stupid. It’s not real, but it’s not stupid.” He reassures you, or at least he tries to. “Maybe these dreams are your brain’s way of working through issues you’re having with your boyfriend? I mean, I didn’t show up in your dreams before you saw me, right? And it was only after seeing how Beomgyu got so aggressive with me that you had the dreams about him trying to keep us away from each other, right?”

“I guess…” What he’s saying makes sense. Maybe it’s just your brain trying to make sense of the whirlwind that is your romantic life with Beomgyu. 

“Well, there you go.” He proclaims, “Maybe the way to stop these dreams is to work out the issues you’re having with Beomgyu.” 

“Easier said than done.” You snort, and once again Taehyun is not letting your little passive-aggressive comments pass by. “What do you mean?”

You sigh. “He’s impossible to talk to about these things. He either gets so defensive you can never fault him for his behavior or he freaks out about us breaking up that I end up needing to comfort him for his own bad behavior.” 

Taehyun wears a frown on his face. “That doesn’t sound too healthy. If you can’t even talk things through then how can you expect your relationship to survive?” 

“Don’t say that. Beomgyu is a wonderful guy and a loving boyfriend. He just gets insecure and needs reassurance. It’s because his ex fucked him up or something.” You mutter the last part bitterly. If she hadn’t messed him up so much, Beomgyu would have literally been the perfect boyfriend. 

“But that’s not your fault. What she did to him has nothing to do with you. If he can’t separate the two then he doesn’t deserve to be with you.” 

You shake your head. “You’re being too harsh on him.” Yes, Beomgyu is acting like an ass right now but that doesn’t take away from all the wonderful things he is. 

“Am I? If you let this go then he’ll only get worse.” 

Maybe he’s right. Maybe you should stand up more to Beomgyu. Things can get really bad when he gets into his head, but when he’s good, he’s really good and that always brings you right back into his arms. 

________________

As if he could read your thoughts, Beomgyu takes you out on a much needed date at the local arcade, seemingly aiming to make you forget about the erratic way he has been acting lately. 

You’re both video game fans, especially those old games you used to play growing up, and so this is like Disneyland for you. You have so much fun recalling all the good times you had playing these classic games, only you get to enjoy them with the person you love this time around, and damn does it feel ten times more fun with Beomgyu. 

“Oh my god, oh my god!” Beomgyu screams, trying to keep up with you but failing miserably, messing up his steps on the dance dance revolution game, and allowing you to take the lead. “No, this is too fast–ahhhh!”

You laugh at his exclamations, messing up a few steps of your own as you sneak glances at him, enjoying the way he makes such a show of it, always aiming to entertain and get a laugh out of you and everyone else. You know he doesn’t actually care about losing. He just wants to make it fun for you. 

The machine makes a noise that indicates the game is over and that you’ve won, and the small crowd that has gathered to watch you because of your boyfriend's antics cheers for you. 

“Thank you, thank you.” You give a gracious bow, before pulling your stupid boyfriend into a kiss that receives a couple of woohoos. 

“I know. I know. I can’t believe she’s dating me too.” He says and you smack his shoulder shyly. “Shut up. You’re such a simp.” 

 “No, I’m not. I’m just appreciating my beautiful, wonderful girlfriend who–”

“Get a room! Some of us actually want to play.” A teen shouts out at you, and his friends jeer in agreement, forcing you off the game with embarrassed giggles. 

“Wow, kids are mean.” Beomgyu exclaims and you laugh. “Kids? We’re barely a couple of years older than them.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” Beomgyu comments, not seeming to share your laughter. 

“Hey, are you okay? They were jerks but they’re just teens, you know?” You try to comfort him. You know how mean teens can be, but Beomgyu just shakes his head and gives you a big smile. “Oh no, I’m not thinking about that at all. I just remembered something… doesn’t matter. Let’s go play another game.” 

“Okay…” You trail off uncertainly, unsure if he’s really okay. But then you spot something that takes your attention away. “Oh, let’s go play that shooter game! There is a toy there that I really want!” 

You step towards it, but as soon as you do, you’re being pulled back by your boyfriend. “I don’t really like shooter games. Too violent, you know?”

“It’s an air gun.” You explain slowly as if he doesn’t grasp the concept, and he shrugs.  “Well, it still teaches violence to kids. Today an air gun, tomorrow a school shooting.” 

You roll your eyes at his silly dramatics. “Too bad we aren’t kids then. We’re a whole couple of years older than kids. Now come on.” You drag him behind you, sights already set on a teddy bear that reminds you of Beomgyu. 

“I wanna win that one! Add it to my beargyu collection at home.” You clap excitedly, and the man at the stand hands you a gun to use.

“She’s got a good eye. She picked the best prize.” The man tells Beomgyu then turns back to you. “You have to shoot all the cans down to be able to win that one.”

“Yeah. She has expensive taste, that one.” Beomgyu comments and you pout, playfully shoving him. “Gyu!” 

“Is it not true?” He cocks an eyebrow at you and you push your head up defiantly. “I just have high standards, that’s all.” 

“I know, baby. And you deserve the best.” He says, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it, making you blush. 

“Are you going to shoot?” The man asks impatiently, bored with you and Beomgyu’s public displays of affection. You don’t care though, sending Beomgyu a kiss and a wink.. 

Still, it’s gonna be challenging winning that bear, and you have to concentrate. 

“Okay…” You take a deep breath and get into position, turning towards again Beomgyu and squeaking a quick ‘pray for me’ before you look back and start shooting. 

And damn, you’re a lousy shot. 

At the start, the cans are all lined up next to each other so you manage to fell a lot of them just by generally shooting in their direction, but as their numbers dwindle, you start completely missing them. 

“Baby, you’re trying to shoot the cans, not the other patrons.” Beomgyu quips and you glare at him, almost shooting him too, and he raises his hands in surrender. “Just saying.” 

“Well, don’t say.” You grit, missing even more shots. 

“Damn it!” You exclaim in frustration, seeing your chances go down with each missed shot, and eventually running out of ammo. “Ughhhhh.” 

“Cheer up, baby. You tried your best.” Beomgyu tries to comfort you, “You just–”

“I wanna try again.” You proclaim, smacking more tickets down on the counter and gesturing for the worker to reload your gun before trying again. 

And again. And again. And again. Each time failing more miserably than the last, the frustration getting to you. 

“Baby, we’re running out of money here. Soon, I’m gonna have to sell my kidney to give you arcade money.” Beomgyu appeals to you once more, urging you to give up.

“Fine!” You give a huge sigh, finally handing over the gun sadly. “I just really wanted it.” 

“Why? We have a million teddy bears at home.” 

“I know but I wanted that one.” You pout, moving a finger across his chest coyly. “Can you try to win it for me?”

“Babe–”

“Pretty, please.” You turn on the puppy-dog eyes that you know have been very effective on him in the past.

He sighs, looking defeated. “You know I would do anything for you.” 

“Yes! Works every time.” You congratulate yourself, preparing to watch your pacifist boyfriend flounder just like you did, but planning to enjoy anyway. 

Except he doesn’t. To your absolute shock, Beomgyu clears the game on the first try. 

“Wow, you’re really good at this.” You clap, amazed, and give him a big hug. “When did you learn this?”

“Oh. I used to play this game a lot as a kid.” Funnily enough, you feel like you’ve watched him do this before. Maybe it was in one of your prince dreams…

“See? And you didn’t become a violent psychopath. You were worrying for nothing.” You tease him, holding your hard-earned teddy bear up and giddily spinning around with it. 

“Excuse me.” A small voice calls out, halting your merriment and you look down to see the most adorable child tugging at your skirt. Well, you see a blurry, double vision of an adorable child as your poor brain tries to recover from the celebratory spinning. 

“Oh, hello. Aren’t you just the cutest thing?” You gush. “What’s your name?” 

“Ben.” He says, and Beomgyu gasps, equally as dramatic as you. “Well, that is just the cutest name ever.” 

“Thank you.” Ben plays with his fingers and swings shyly from one foot to the other. 

“Are you lost, Ben?” Beomgyu asks, getting down to his knees in front of the child. “Where is your mommy?” 

The child points off somewhere.

“Do you want us to take you to her?” You ask, but he shakes his head. “No. I just wanted to say that… that I like your bear and and–can we trade? You can have my toy instead!” He presents you with a small bright orange and yellow toy truck.  

“Aw, you cheeky little thing.” Beomgyu tuts, “That is very generous, but I just won this for the pretty lady and I think she wants to keep itt.” 

You do. You really want to keep it. But Ben looks so disappointed at hearing that, that you don’t have the heart to refuse him for long. 

“That’s okay, Gyu. He can have it.” You intervene, and Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at you skeptically. “Are you sure? You made such a fuss about it.” 

You shoot him a glare. “I know but he’s a kid and he wants it.” 

“The way you were acting earlier, one could’ve easily mistaken you for a kid too.” He mumbles and you smack the back of his head in indignation. “Hey!” 

The sound of Ben’s purely ecstatic laughter at what you did grabs both your attention and prevents you from further squabbling. 

“You like seeing me smack the stupid man?” You raise your hand towards Beomgyu threateningly and he cowers dramatically. “I stand corrected. I shouldn’t have been worrying about kids learning violence from games when they can just learn it from people like you.” 

“Aw, you wound me, baby.” You let your hand down to smooth down his hair affectionately. “This is just a tried and true discipline technique. I’ll show you more when we get home.” You give him a wink and he blushes. 

“Alright, let’s take you to your mum.” You announce to the kid, handing him the toy bear and giggling at the way he struggles to walk while holding the giant thing. 

When you’re within sight of his mother, she calls out, relieved. “Ben! There you are!” She runs to hug him. Or tries to hug him but she can’t really with the stuffed animal in the way. “Where did you get that teddy bear from?”

“We gave it to him.” You explained happily and she gasps, turning to scold him. “Did you ask them to give it to you? You know I told you you to stop doing that. It’s not polite—He’s always asking strangers for things, pretending to be all cute and innocent to swindle people out of their belongings. It’s really not nice… or safe!” She explains to you, before turning back to her son. “Now give the bear back to the nice couple.” 

“But I don’t wanna!” He throws a tantrum, and you and Beomgyu exchange an amused look. 

So the little rascal was playing you. Well done. 

“That’s fine. He can keep it.” You tell his mum, but she won’t hear it. “Not, it’s not. You don’t have to–”

“We want to.” You reassure her, and Ben looks at his mother expectantly, his little face praying that she’d allow him to keep the bear and she sighs. “Fine. Though you’re only enforcing bad habits.” She gives you both a stern look and Beomgyu gives a small apologetic bow. “We’re sorry, ma’am.” 

You fight to contain your giggles as she turns to her son. “What do we say, Ben?”

“Thank you!” He chirps happily. 

“You’re welcome.” You both laugh. “Enjoy it.”

“I will!”  

“See you, Ben.” Beomgyu crouches down to say goodbye to him, raising his hand up so Ben can give him a high five, which he does enthusiastically.  

“Bye.” You wave goodbye to Ben and his mum, walking away with Beomgyu. 

Seeing how sweet Beomgyu was with Ben… how naturally he acted and how at ease the kid was with him… it made you yearn for things you can’t have. It made you want to have that–to have a child that is yours and Beomgyu’s. But you can’t ask him that of him, not after what he told you, not for a while, at least. 

Too preoccupied with the thoughts, you don’t think to hide them from Beomgyu, and he quickly notices the shift in your mood. 

“What?” Beomgyy asks, and you look at him in confusion, so he explains, “You’ve been quiet for a while.”

“Oh.” You blink away the tears from your eyes, not even having realized they had gathered there, silently fighting against the weird emptiness that seeing him interacting with the child has opened up in you. “Nothing. I'm just suddenly really tired. Let's go home."

You can tell he doesn’t buy your excuse. “Did you want the bear? You know you could’ve said–”

“No. No. It’s not that, really. I just…” You trail off and a look of realization comes over his face. You quickly add on, “Beomgyu, it’s really nothing. Let’s just go home, okay?” 

Still, he doesn’t believe it. But he gathers you in his arms anyway and gives you a sweet peck on the lips. “Okay.”

He’ll always give you what you want. 

_________________________________

“You can be so good to me. Why do you have to be such an ass sometimes?” You murmur against his lips.

“I just can’t afford to lose you–ah–” He trails off in a moan as you continue to ride him. 

"You really will do anything to keep me, huh?" You clench around him, making him automatically buck under you. “Ah-ah-ah, I said no moving, baby.” 

"Yes, darling.” His hands fist at the sheets in an effort to keep his body from reacting to the way you’re fucking him so tortuously. 

“Call me princess. I liked it when you did that.” 

“Baby…” He protests, and you move your hands up his torso to brush your thumbs across his nipples before you bend down and lick one. “Come on, my prince, you said you’ll do anything for me.” 

“Yes, princess.” You could practically feel his cock twitching inside you as you let go of his nipple with a pop to sit back and properly ride him, really quickening your pace to reward him for his compliance. 

It’s so easy to get Beomgyu to do what you want. He’ll bend over backwards to keep you happy. He just gets too in his head sometimes and starts getting paranoid so you need to shut his brain down. 

And shut down it is, right now. He’s entirely under your mercy, laying down for you to ravage him and loving every second of it. “Oh god. Close, princess. So close.” 

“Don’t cum yet.” 

“Please, I can’t.” He croaks. Oh, how you love to see him struggle. It’s like a drug to you, seeing how much he needs you. 

“Hold it.” You pant, bouncing on top of him, intent to push him right to the edge, and when you feel like he’s about to fall over it, you quickly get off him, his red cock smacking against his tummy, dribbling precum as it twitches from the denial. 

“Fuck… fuck…” Beomgyu curses, his body entirely wound up from the pent up frustration and lust. 

"Shhh." You hush him with a kiss that he hungrily reciprocates, the wet sounds of lips and tongues meeting echoing around the room. When you pull back his lips are shiny with spit and his eyes are drowning with need. But he never reaches out for you, never tries to take what he wants. Your pretty prince. 

You lean forward to open up the bedside table, taking out your vibrator. Beomgyu stares, wide-eyed, as you grab his cock and sink down on it once again. But this time instead of riding him, you swivel your hips around and turn on the vibrator, pressing it to your clit.

“Oh, you’re going to kill me.” He groans, squirming under you as the vibrations and the way your cunt is clenching around him build his high up once again..

"No cumming until I do." You order, and he’s unable to keep his hands to himself anymore, choosing instead to grab at your thighs, his body needing to latch onto yours–just holding onto you to keep him tethered, never forcing you to give him more no matter how much he wants it. 

"I don’t know if I can hold it.” 

"You will. Or do you need me to put a cock ring on you?" You threaten, but the small involuntary thrust of his hips surprise you. “Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I like anything you do to me.” He confesses, making your skin tingle. 

You grind on him faster, moving the vibrator up and down your slit, feeling your release looming near. 

“Oh my fucking god, princess, please.” 

"What is it, baby?” You gasp, thighs starting to spasm from the impending orgasm. “You wanna cum?"

"Uh-huh." He whimpers pitifully like a dog begging for his master to reward him. “You know, I do.” 

Of course, you do. It’s so obvious, he’s practically on the verge of crying, but it’s always so fun to tease him about it. 

"But I thought you said you'd let me do whatever I wanted to you, and I like keeping you on the edge. Love seeing you go all dumb for my pussy." You pout, acting like you’re upset and he eats it all up. 

"I’m sorry… I just need it." He cries, head thrown back and his nails digging into your skin. "Close–so close–please–oh god, please—"

“Cum for me, gyu. Fill me up.” You finally have mercy on him, taking the vibrator away as your pussy clenches around him, milking him of his seed as you hurl over the edge. 

“Yes—oh, princess–ahhh–” He holds your hips and ruts up into you, releasing his cum inside you and filling you up just like you wanted. 

It takes you both a while to come down from your orgasms, the delayed gratification bringing out a very intense high. But when you do, he pulls you down to him, wrapping you safely in his arms. 

“I’m sorry for being so crazy lately. I just love you so much.” He presses a kiss against your damp forehead. 

“I know, baby. I love you too.” You reciprocate fully, but as the high wears off, doubt starts to set back in. “But you can’t keep acting that way. I am not going to cheat on you with Taehyun and it hurts me that you would even doubt that.” 

“I’m sorry, it’s just… my ex. She–”

“Let me guess, cheated on you.” You roll your eyes, not meaning to diminish his pain but you just hate his ex so much. “But baby, I’m not her. I love you. Only you.” 

“I know, but… it would just make me feel better if you didn’t talk to him.” 

“He’s my co-worker, I have to talk to him.” 

“Plenty of people don’t talk to their co-workers. In fact plenty of people maintain a very healthy mutual animosity with their coworkers. I think you should try that.” 

“Beomgyu.” You deadpan, exasperation clear in your tone. 

“Fine. I’ll try to tone it down.” 

“Thank you. I really don’t want to… lose you.” 

He frowns, pushing you back so he can fully see your face. “You won’t. You will never lose me.” He says it with absolute certainty, and maybe his promise was meant to sound reassuring, but something about the way he said it makes you shiver. 

“Are you cold, baby?” He asks, concerned. 

“I… I guess.” 

“Come here.” He pulls you down into his arms, wrapping you up in that warm embrace that seems to always make you forget about all the wrong he’s done. When you’re in his arms, it’s like the world slips away and it’s just you and him and the love you have for each other. None of those troubling thoughts can reach you here, none of the doubts. 

Just you and him. Forever. 

_____________________________________

“Don’t talk to her that way.” Beomgyu snarls at Taehyun, looking like he is going to spring forward and attack him but you hold onto him tightly.  

“Beomgyu, stay. Let me talk to him alone.” You whisper to him but he shakes his head. “No.” 

You lean closer to him so only he can hear you. “Come on, Beomgyu, we had a deal. Anything you want after, just let me talk to him.” 

He throws a hateful look towards Taehyun, obviously not happy with what’s happening, before he looks back at you and pulls you into a sudden kiss. Your hands shoot up to his chest, trying to push him away but his own hands hold onto you, one grabbing the back of your head and the other squeezing your ass. 

“My lord, this is not proper.” You hear someone reprimand, making you flush with humiliation and reminding you that you have more than one witness to Beomgyu’s mortifying display of ownership over you. 

“I can still taste my cock on your tongue, princess.” Beomgyu says loudly enough for Taehyun to hear before finally letting you pull away, ignoring your incensed look in favor of smirking at Taehyun. You follow his gaze to find that Taehyun looks to be seconds away from exploding. 

“Fucking stay here.” You grit out at Beomgyu, your outrage giving you the strength you need to make your way towards Taehyun without trembling anymore. 

“Is this what you left me for? Just to go back to being treated like a piece of meat?” Taehyun denounces in disgust once you’re standing in front of him. 

Left him for? What?

It is at that moment that you wake up from your dream, filled with feelings of shame, disgust and guilt. 

Now what could this mean? If Taehyun is right and your dreams are meant to express your discomfort with the way Beomgyu is treating you, then why are you dreaming that you and Taehyun were together? Are you completely overthinking this? Is it just weird dream happenstance? 

You mean, it did mirror what happened earlier with Beomgyu kissing you in front of everyone so maybe that’s what your mind was going for and it just started acting wonky the way brains on dreams do. 

But why, as always, does it feel so devastatingly real? Why do you still feel like you’ve betrayed Taehyun somehow? 

_________________________________________

A/N: our dear old crazy possessive beomgyu ❤️😂

[ggidolsmuts]

Figlio Di Puttana - Somi

"Oppa!" Somi calls out to you as you lounged on the hotel balcony. Somi had flown you out to Italy with her, so you got to relax as she prettied herself up for work.

"Hmm? What's up?"

"Tonight, I'm going to make you a Figlio Di Puttana."

"Sounds good, I look forward to it." Somi chuckles and pecks you on the cheek.

"You're so cute. Bye for now!" If only you knew what Somi meant.

Somi arrives back at the hotel quite late at night and goes straight to washing up. You feel her hands on your shoulders.

"Hey, welcome back." You lay back in your chair to look up at her, and Somi's chest delightfully getting in the way of your view of her.

"Hey." She brushes your hair, her large glasses making her look even cuter. "Did you eat?"

"Yup, there was a nice cafe nearby. Did you eat?"

"Mmhmm, got to try Italian McDonalds," Somi winces.

"Oof, sorry to hear that, maybe we can try that Figlio thing you mentioned tomorrow."

"Oh, no that's what we're trying right now." Somi straddles you, and you can't help but notice two stiff tips appearing on her white top.

"Hmm?" Your hands rub her sides, feeling her bare midriff get warmer. "Something tells me that's not a dish is it?"

"Hahaha oh no oppa. It's an Italian swear word I looked up." Somi leans in and lustfully whispers in your ear. "It means motherfucker."

"How are you going to make me a—" You are distracted, both by you processing her words properly, and Somi taking off her top.

"What do you think, I happened to leave my birth control pills at home. And I'm ovulating, so I'm extra horny. Think you can resist me?" Somi smirks as she grinds on your hardening pants.

"No." You pull her to you and bury your face in her tits, gently biting her skin and sucking on both nipples. "You planned this didn't you? Planned for me to cum in you. I couldn't find my condoms earlier, you must have hidden it haven't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, ah!" Somi gasps as you slip a hand under her blue sweatpants, squeezing her juicy ass. "Why were you looking for the condoms anyways, planning on some action tonight?"

"Of course, and now that they're missing, I'm definitely planning on it." You slide her sweatpants down best you can, and Somi gets up and slides it down past her hips and on to the floor.

"Now you oppa." Somi gets on the bed, sitting on the edge and waiting for you to take off your own shorts. You strip down and jump on her, pulling her panties to the side and running a finger up and down her slit.

"Fuck you really are soaked."

"Hnngh oppa please put it in me already!" Somi wraps her legs around you, fluttering her eyes and pouting. "Are you really not going to take the chance? Your shot at breeding my little flat tummy?"

Somi screams as you thrust into her all the way, opening up the path to her womb in one shot.

"Of course not, your little flat bratty tummy is going to be pudgy with all my cum inside you."

"Nngh yes, yes!" Maybe it's the hormones running wild in Somi's body, but her entire body is burning up in desire as you start pumping into her. Her hyperfertile body is ready for you, her pussy well-lubricated for your enjoyment. You glide in and out of her easily as she moans and cries out at your high pace. She groans as your tip knocks against her cervix, the unfamiliar but not unwelcome sensation makes her swoon and go all fuzzy—you were going to knock her up, hundred percent.

"Last chance Somi." You mumble, but it is too late as she wraps her legs around you, pulling you that little bit deeper into her.

"Knock me up, fuuuuck oppa!" Somi gasps as you pin her against the bed and cum, claiming her womb for yourself. She can't help but cum as well, her pussy gripping and milking you for what you had. You stay pressed on top of her for a while before slowly pulling out, your load oozing out from between her thighs.

"Oh my god, that was amazing." Somi sighs, high on the chemicals of being bred. But you aren't done, and you flip her on to her front and plunge your stiff-again shaft into her.

"Ughh..." she sighs, still cum-drunk. "Oppa?"

"You wanted to make me a motherfucker didn't you? Now you're a mother, so now I'm going to fuck you." You fuck Somi prone on the bed, your hips bouncing off her delicious ass as you pound down into her. You bury your face in her neck, hearing her soft moans and grunts as you push into her creamy cum-filled warmth over and over.

"C-Cum for me again oppa!" You hump into Somi one last time before seeding her again, both of you shouting into the bedsheets. You run a hand under her midriff, gently rubbing circles over her tummy. Your load is still flowing out of her as the two of you fall asleep.

Somi wakes up the next morning to you entering the room and dropping a noising plastic bag on the bed.

"Afternoon sleepyhead."

"Mmm good morning, what's that?" She crawls over to look inside the bag, and you are immediately behind her, pulling down her panties and rubbing her pussy.

"Viagra, and pregnancy tests." As soon as she is wet enough you push into her.

"Ahhh! Wait, it's going to take like two weeks to show up on the tests."

"Good, I'm going to pump you full of cum for the next two weeks. Cancel your schedules, we're not leaving this room until you're pregnant." You pull her arms behind her back, and Somi can only nod and moan as you drag your cock in and out of her. She cums quickly, and you join her in orgasm as you deposit your seed into her once more. There is only one coherent thought in her head as the fuzzy, swooning feeling returns to her.

Fuck, I love being bred!

A/N: Something quick and very filthy for Somi, it's a hot look. Thanks for reading!

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 27

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. Please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Potential Trigger Warnings: mentions of violence, rape, therapy, depression

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The following week, I quickly fall back into a steady rhythm exhausting myself so I can sleep at night without nightmares or at least get back to sleep after them. I work in the cafe in the morning, go to classes or study in the afternoons and do shows at night, and then on weekends it’s shows in both the afternoon and evenings with quick cram sessions in between and work when I can. The days blur together as I throw myself into the routine. But amidst the chaos, Jensen remains a constant presence. He calls or texts every day, his messages sweet and thoughtful, brightening even the hardest of days and giving me the support I need to keep pushing through the exhaustion and stress. I find myself looking forward to each message or call, my heart fluttering every time his name pops up on my phone screen. Even in the midst my busy schedule and the demands of daily life, Jensen manages to carve out a space in my thoughts and heart.

One particularly hectic day after an almost sleepless night, as I rush between a long boring class and the theater for the night’s show, my phone buzzes.

Hey, hope you're hanging in there. Just wanted to remind you to take a deep breath And know that I'm here cheering you on no matter what. You got this.

Tears prick at the corner of my eyes as I read his words, feeling an overwhelming wave of gratitude and affection wash over me in place of the stress and exhaustion. In that moment, it feels like Jensen's unwavering support is the anchor keeping me steady in the storm of my busy life. I can feel myself falling fast despite the distance and yearning to see him again.

I text back.

I’m getting thereStill having nightmares now that I’m back home aloneBut I’m so tired…

You thought about a therapist? You’ve been through a lot

Yeah…Can’t afford it right nowMoney or time wise

I can pay Make time Your mental health is important My friend and co-star here says it helps He’s been struggling too

I’m sorry to hear thatI hope he’s okBut I’ll manage

At least think about it Please I care about you

His name pops up across my screen as I try to think of a response. I sigh and answer.

“I get it, you care about me and my mental health. I’ll consider it.”

“Thank you. That’s all I wanted. Have a good show tonight.”

“Hey, wait! I’m stuck on the subway for at least another 15 minutes. Are you busy?”

“We had a dawn shoot, so finished early. I’m done for the night. How are you really?”

“Right now, while I’m out and distracted, I’m okay. At night, in that apartment alone, not so much.”

“You’re not staying with Stella?”

“She’s already got Anna. And my apartment is closer to work and college and the subway. I’ll go back there on the weekend. I just have to do the open Saturday then I have Sunday off,” I explain.

“You could call me…When you get nightmares and can’t sleep. I can just stay on the line, we don’t even need to talk. Just so you know you’re not alone.”

“You have work and responsibilities too…I can’t keep you up. You’re a movie star, you need your beauty sleep.”

“My character never sleeps more than a few hours at a time anyway, it’ll actually give my makeup artist less work.”

“Jens, Babe, I…Thanks. I’ll consider it,” I quickly finish my sentence hoping he doesn’t dwell or think too much about what I called him.

“You have to at least stick to your promise…”

“I will.”

The rest of my night progresses as expected, the show is great like every other night and the subway ride is uneventful. I use the time to work on an assessment. Then during the walk from the stop back to my apartment I call Jensen, making good on my promise that I won’t walk up to my room alone, at least until we know that the monster has been kicked out. We talk about the show and his day, just lighthearted, easy small talk until I round the corner and see my building. I stop mid sentence and hide on the other side of the building at the corner, hoping the familiar man didn’t spot me as quickly as I did him. 

Jensen is quick to ask what’s wrong. I can hear the concern in his voice. I can’t find the words to explain anything and I’m too scared to make a sound anyway in case he’s come closer. Silent tears slide down my cheeks. 

“Is it him?” I don’t answer. “Alright, Baby, it’s okay, you don’t have to talk. Just press any key if I’m right.” I press the keypad. “Okay. I’m gonna stay right here with you, okay. Did he see you? Press a key if yes.” I don’t know how to answer. I don’t know and I don’t want to check. I feel my legs giving out from the fear. “Alright, is there a shop or building that you can go into? Or can you get back to the subway? I’m texting Stella now, okay, Baby. Nick’s going to come find you. If you can, just share your location with me.”

I look around for anything that’s open this late. Most buildings are dark, this isn’t the part of New York that never sleeps. I’m too far from the city center. I force myself to start walking in the opposite direction, just trying to put some distance between us. My legs tremble with each step as the tears continue to fall. Then I duck into an alley and collapse on the ground in the shadows. I lean against a dumpster, I already feel dirty from the whole situation so l can’t find it in myself to care. I send Jensen a link to track my location.

“That’s good, I’m gonna send that to Stella. Nick will find you.”

I finally manage to whisper, “he shouldn’t be there. Anna and I filed restraining orders.”

“That’s good. That means you can call the cops and report him. They can take him away.”

“He’s probably mad, I shouldn’t have…he lives there too.”

“No, Darlin’, we’re not going there. This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. He doesn’t belong there, he belongs in a cell.” He sighs loudly. “I wanna book a flight back. You shouldn’t-“

“Nick’ll be here soon. I’m okay. Can you just…Just stay on-“

“Of course, Darlin’. I’m right here. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“Thanks…”

“Anytime. But after this, I really want us to revisit that conversation from earlier.”

“Jens-“

“No, Y/N, we get you safely to your friend’s house and then we talk about you going to therapy. I think Anna should go as well, but she’s not my girlfr-shit-just please...”

“Alright. Alright. We’ll talk about it.”

“Thank you.”

We stay on the line silently, the only sound is each other’s breaths. After a few minutes Nick’s car pulls up in front of the alley. He looks around cautiously as he gets out and makes his way over to me. I slowly push myself up off the ground.

Once Nick’s close he says, “Come on. Let’s go,”

I follow him to the car, he opens the passenger door for me and closes the door behind me before going around to the driver’s side.

“Jens, Nick’s here. I’m safe now. Can I-Can I call you later?”

“I’m glad to hear that. I’ll be here. Anytime.”

I hang up as Nick starts the engine. He briefly looks me over before pulling on to the street and turning around so we won’t go past my building. “I came past on the way here, it’s definitely him. Stell has already called the police on your behalf, but I still think you should stay with us tonight.” I nod, not sure what I could add, so he continues, “I’ve got a friend in private security, he’s gonna talk to your body corporate and try to make a deal to station someone there in response to all this. We just want you to be safe in your home, but also Anna’s been slowly opening up to Stell and we don’t want this monster to hurt anyone else. With both of your statements and this infraction you’d hope it would be enough to lock him up for good, but until we know for sure…”

I nod again. “Thanks, Nick. I’m sorry for disturbing your work…again and getting in the middle of your newly wed life.”

“I know I was harsh on you before, and I apologize for that. But regardless, this is entirely different. None of this is your fault. I spend most nights trying to stop drunk girls from leaving with guys who have similar red flags, I know the type too well, and I don’t want you anywhere near him.” He briefly glances over at me as we wait at a red light. “On the other hand though…Jensen…he seems like a good guy.”

“Yeah…or he’s an exceptional actor.”

“In my experience, guys don’t give up sleep for just anyone, unless it’s for sex. But also, he seemed so genuinely concerned for your safety. Stella made me watch an episode with her the other night, and yeah he’s a good actor. But all this with you…I don’t think that’s an act, but that’s just my two cents worth.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as he pulls up in front of their house Stella runs over to the car and pulls my door open. I fall into her arms and finally let out all the emotions I’d been holding in. She guides me over to the porch so Nick can go back to work. We sit there in each other’s arms until I finally stop crying. 

She pulls back slightly and wipes my cheeks. “You need to get out of this city for a while.”

“I can’t…and what message does that send Anna. She dealt with him for m-months. I only had a few minutes…“

“Yeah, but he’s not the first…you and I both know this isn’t just about Todd. It’s what Ty did too, isn't it?”

“He never-that-I…”

“I don’t wanna make things harder for you. But I think it’s time you talk to someone about it all.”

“You’re the second person that’s told me that tonight…”

“Jensen?”

“Yeah…and I think I should. I really like him, but I can’t be with him until I’ve dealt with all this.”

“Yeah, you won’t be able to fully trust or love him until you work through your past. And it’s not fair on him either. But don’t cut him out while you’re working on it. My advice?”

“Always.”

“Be as honest and open with him as you can and then tell him you’re going to get help. And that you would appreciate his support while you’re getting there. And that maybe after all this you can talk about the two of you.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll look into therapists and try to find a way to fit it into my schedule. Then I’ll also talk to Jens.”

She nudges me, “Awww! Jens? You’re so cute. I really hope you two work out. When you’re ready.”

I blush and let out a teary giggle, feeling a little better, thanks to her support. “We’ll see…he’s a great guy and I know he likes me. He almost slipped tonight and almost called me his girlfriend. But you’re right, I’m not ready for that. But I want to be.”

“You will be.”

I nod and we both slowly push ourselves up off the porch. She hugs me again and then we both go inside.

I take a quick shower in her ensuite and she lets me borrow a hoodie and some sweats to sleep in since I didn’t get to bring anything with me. Before settling in for the night on the couch, I quickly text Jensen to let him know I’m safe at Stella’s house and am going to sleep and will call him when I can.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl

@speakinvain, @deans-baby-momma, @1967winchesterimpala

@lmg14, @superrey, @kamisobsessed

[hannahssimblr]

“Nobody better be kissing in here,” she announces when we meet her at a cafe a stone's throw from Christchurch Cathedral. She arrives after a haircut, short, cut all the way up to her ears and a hand performatively shielding her gaze. 

We ignore her. “Jen! Your hair!” 

“I hate it,” she announces, “I think I look stupid.”

“No, you don’t,” Michelle insists as she slumps into a seat across from us, “It’s chic.”

“Chic? I don’t think I’m capable of being chic. I feel like I have nothing to hide behind anymore, you know? Now I’m all just face.”

“Well, you have a nice face anyway. Lucky you.”

Jen grunts, “thanks.”

“You know whose hair it’s like?” I say, trying to be helpful, “Emma Watson. You know how she’s done the whole hair-like-a-boy thing ever since she finished up on Harry Potter?”

Michelle frowns at me. 

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” says Jen, “but this haircut does not make me look like Emma Watson.” she grabs the menu from the table and skims it with disinterest, “I don’t want to talk about hair. It will grow out eventually, please, tell me about your NCAD interviews. How did they go?”

Michelle gets right into it, regaling her with the full story from start to finish, how Ida and Paul looked at her when she came into the room, the manner in which they unzipped her portfolio, the questions they asked, the way they made her feel, while I sit humming along sympathetically, hoping that if I stay invested in what Michelle is saying then I won't be asked to describe my experience.

“And you, Jude?” Jen says, “Did you find them to be dickheads too?”

“Uh, yeah totally,” I say, “it was fairly uncomfortable alright.”

She looks at Michelle, “He’s lying.”

“I’m not!”

“You are! I bet it went so incredibly well that you feel awkward about telling us, look!” she stabs a finger in my direction, “his face, he’s an awful liar, see how his eye twitches like that? It’s his tell. I would know.”

“I’m not-” I grab hold of Michelle’s knee and squeeze it, “I’m not lying, it went the same for me as it did for you.”

I glare at Jen. Can’t she see that I’m just doing damage control? The last thing I want to do is upset my girlfriend. As sensitive as she is already, I feel the knowledge of what happened inside that interview room would send her into a spin for the whole day. Jen wrinkles her nose and sticks her pointy little tongue out at me. 

“NCAD isn’t our preference anyway,” I continue insistently, “We’ve done our interviews for Paris, next week is Munich and Berlin, then Amsterdam and London. This is really, like, a last resort, but something will work out for us.”

Jen raises her eyebrows, “Germany? Michelle, you can’t speak German.”

“Yeah but I’d learn.”

“Exactly, and if we end up going to France then I’ll learn French.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of learning on top of what you’re already doing, isn’t it? You sure you’ll be able for all that?”

Michelle clutches hold of my hand, “We’ll make it work no matter what,” she says, and I can't tell if it's a statement, a question, or an order.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[vodika-vibes]

Hello there Vod'ika

Just a quick warning I am dyslexia so I hope I type this right.

So just imagine Alpha 17 or Jango (or any of the hot clones that you can choose) "Take it off or I'll make you sweetheart". just if you're taking ask right now. If not I love your work.

Only Girl In his World

Summary: Life on Kamino is horrifically dull. Oh sure, you’re more than happy to share an apartment with Jango, but right now you don’t have anything to do since his son hasn’t been born yet. So you have to make your own fun.

Pairing: Jango Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 1245

Warnings: Spicy ish. Reader is a brat, intentionally

Prompt: "Take it off or I'll make you, sweetheart."

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @kimiheartblade @mire-draws-things

A/N: You gave me the choice of writing Jango and I couldn't not do it, lol. I love him so much. Anyway, I hope you like it! Also, I have a fever of 102, so I'm so sorry if it doesn't make sense in some places.

Bored.

You are so very bored.

You twist on your bed and kick your bare feet up against the window. It’s cool to the touch, which tracks with the rain pouring from the sky on the other side.

Kamino sucks.

It does.

There’s no nightlife, which means you can’t go dancing unless you want to dance on your own, and it means no drinking because you are incapable of drinking the bitter swill that Jango calls alcohol.

There’s no entertainment at all in Tipoca City. No movie theaters. No cafes. No libraries. 

You heave out a heavy sigh and allow your head to fall off the bed, your hair brushing the floor and you look out the bedroom door and into the main part of the apartment that you share with Jango.

He’s not here now.

Oh. He’s on Kamino, but he’s not home now.

He has to go and get some testing done before the Kaminoans start gathering his genetic material to start the cloning process. A fact that he bitched about while you made breakfast for the pair of you this morning.

He hadn’t been very impressed when you pointed out that he was the one who agreed to a ten-year contract. Still, aside from a scowl and a tug of your hair, he wasn’t overly upset with you.

You still don’t have any regrets about agreeing to come with him.

Jango is Jango, after all. And you’d follow him into hell without question.

You try not to think about how you probably are before this whole thing is over.

You stay on your bed for a moment longer, before you heave out an explosive sigh and roll so that you topple on the floor. There has to be something here for you to do.

Some video games, some movies, something.

You poke around the living room for half an hour, and, upon finding nothing that will help you banish your boredom, you sit on the floor with an unhappy huff. 

“I should make Jango order me a game system.” You grouse to the empty room as you hit the button that will open the closet door, hoping against all hope that there might be something in there for you to do.

The only thing inside the closet, aside from towels and other linens, is Jango’s armor. 

He couldn’t wear it to the testing, after all.

“Honestly, would it kill him to put his armor in his room? What if I needed a towel?” You stand and lightly grab his helmet, absently turning it in your hands. 

It’s heavier than it looks. Jango always acts like it weighs almost nothing.

You lightly trail your fingers over the paint around the visor, easily finding scoring on the metal that wasn’t noticeable from a distance. You knew, logically, that Bounty Hunting was a dangerous profession.

And Jango is one of the best bounty hunters.

Somehow those two facts didn’t connect until just now, when you’re looking at the old damage to his armor.

Is that why Jango hired you for this role? So that his son will still have a guardian even if something happens to him?

How…depressing.

You jump when the apartment door slides open, and turn to look at Jango as he steps into the apartment.

Somehow he looks more annoyed now than he did when he left.

“I’m back.” Jango greets you and then pauses when he sees you holding his helmet, “What are you doing?”

You glance at his helmet and then at him, “I was looking for something to do.”

“And you grabbed my armor?” He asks amused.

You huff, and turn to place the helmet back on the stand, “I was hoping there would be something to keep me entertained in the closet, your armor nearly gave me a heart attack.” You say as you round back on him.

“That right?”

You set your hands on your hips, acid on the tip of your tongue, but you let the vitriol die when you see the look on his face, “How was the testing?” You ask instead, “You look exhausted.”

He makes a face, “I feel like a prized bull.”

“Well—”

“Do not.” Jango warns.

You shrug, “Look, we both know you’re here as their stud, Jango.”

He groans, “You went there. Of course you did.” He walks over to you and drops his forehead on your shoulder.

Absently, you card your fingers through his curls, “They can’t want that many more tests before they start gathering specimens for the cloning,” You offer in a, hopefully, soothing voice.

“At least two more months of testing.” He corrects as he shifts slightly so you can feel his warm breath against your neck.

“You poor thing.”

He pulls away and flashes a small smirk at you, “Distract me.”

“What? You want, like, stand-up comedy or something?”

You start when you feel his warm hands against the bare skin of your waist, one of his hands sliding up under your thin shirt. “I had something a little more entertaining in mind.”

“You know, at this point I might as well just move into your bedroom,” Your breath hitches as his thumb brushes the underside of your breast.

“Mm, sounds like a plan, we can get you moved after.”

You squeak as he crowds you back to the couch, bumping you against the back, “You’re going to be too exhausted to move me after,”

He growls against your neck, actually growls, and you release a shaky, and highly aroused, breath. Jango tugs on the hem of your shirt, “Take this off or I’ll make you, sweetheart.”

You should obey him. Jango likes it when you obey him. He gets all hot and bothered and gives you exactly what you want. Which is generally his mouth pressed against your pussy…but you don’t want to obey him today.

Today you’re feeling a little contrary.

You giggle and press your lips against a spot just under his ear, and you suck a mark onto his skin. Jango groans at your actions and pulls his face back away from your neck.

You lean in so your lips are just over his and a broad smile crosses your face, “Make me.” You whisper.

His gaze snaps to yours, and something predatory slides through his eyes, “If we weren’t on Kamino, ad’ika,” He almost purrs, “I would put you outside and tell you to run while I hunt you down.”

You feel a thrill of desire at the thought and are disappointed, once again, that you’re on Kamino.

“Don’t be so disappointed, brat,” Jango warns as he smoothly pulls your shirt off and tosses it to the side. He bites down on your shoulder, pulling a startled yelp from you, “You’re still going to be punished for being so disobedient.”

You giggle, “Oh no~”

There’s a spark of amusement on his handsome face, and his hand lands, heavily, on your ass, making you squeak. “Bedroom, ad’ika. I need to find my binders so I can punish you properly.” He roughly grabs your chin, “And you’d better be naked when I get in there.”

“Or what?” You ask cheekily.

He chuckles, a low noise that makes you shiver, “Well if you want to find out, continue disobeying me.”

He really isn’t making you want to obey him today. But a broad grin crosses your face as you turn and flounce into Jango’s bedroom, this is definitely a cure for your boredom.

[lily-janus]

The Job Is Never Done

Order up! For @icycove ! For the Sleepy Bean Fanfic Cafe' event on @tsspromptmonth , who wanted, human AU fic with protective single dad!Janus and kid sides~ 3-5 kiddos of the writer’s choice! Any mix of ages. Just him keeping them safe from harm/danger in any context/setting (Author’s discretion if the other non-kid sides are present!). Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Janus is a retired hero who thought he was done saving people, spoiler alert: he was wrong.

Characters: Janus, Logan, Remus, kid!Virgil, kid!Patton

Word count: 1,839

Trigger warnings: fighting, explosion, fire, Remus is a bad guy, mild Remus innuendo like really mild for him, mild cursing, let me know if I missed any^^

Janus enjoyed retirement. Don’t get him wrong, he loved being a hero and using his powers to defend those without, but he had trust in the new heroes and he himself had gotten tired of the constant fighting and stress that came with the job. He’s done enough for the public, now he can enjoy a quiet life for himself… Or so he thought.

His phone rang urgently… not his personal phone, his work phone, used in hero-work related emergencies, the hero agency knew not to call him up unless there was no other choice.

suppressing a sigh, he pushed a button on the phone, indicating he received the call and was on his way and quickly blurred his features with his powers as he went to the main hero agency headquarters.

It was chaos.

People running around in all directions, yelling orders or questions all around, no one even seemed to notice that Janus had arrived. Which was disappointing since Janus did kinda miss making an entrance as a famous hero, but no such luck today.

He finally spotted Logan, the head of the agency and the most likely to not freak out in a midst of a crisis, and navigated through the chaos to get to him.

“What’s going on?” Janus asked Logan, matching his fast, yet controlled, pace.

“Serpent! You’re here, good, I apologize for interrupting your well earned retirement but I trust you understand this must be urgent.” Logan said, voice as neutral as ever.

Janus nodded, waiting for Logan to continue. “There’s been a jail breakout… From Dark-Side.”

Janus stopped in place, “...The Duke?” He asked, fearing the answer, Logan nodded and Janus cursed in response.

“It took me years to catch him! How did this happen?” Janus asked, trying to stay calm.

“We don’t know yet, but right now we have employed every registered hero to help bring the prisoners back in, seeing as you’re the one who brought in a lot of these villains in the first place, it seemed necessary to call you for help.”

Janus nodded, now understanding the situation, “where do you need me?”

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

“Well looky here who’s slithering back from retirement, finally got bored, old man? Missed the action? Missed me?” The Duke smirked at him.

Janus rolled his eyes, “you wish, I’m just here to clean up your mess… as always, so why don’t you save us both some time and surrender? We both know how this is going to end anyway.” He smirked back, refusing to let his fatigue show, he’s been running around all throughout the country, fighting villains, familiar and new ones alike, helping where he can, The Duke was the last one left.

“Playtime’s over, Duke, time for a nice, long nap back in prison” Janus said, sending a fist of energy towards his stomach that The Duke stopped with his tentacles.

“Not yet, Daddy,” he licked his fangs theatrically, “still got some tricks to show you!”

Janus smirked, he wanted Duke to block his attack, now he was open in the back for another hero to strike him and, hopefully, immobilize him without his tentacles interfering.

He saw the other hero preparing to attack the villain from behind, but they both froze when they heard an explosion, followed by screams… children screams.

He looked back at The Duke for a moment, debating on what to do, he was smiling knowingly at him… he planned this… Damn him!

“Catching me or saving innocent kids, hero? What’s it gonna be?” And with that, he turned away and started running.

cursing, Janus ran in the other direction, towards the explosion, the hero he was working with close behind.

“I’m sorry, Serpent… I wasn’t sure what to do-”

“It’s fine, let’s just save those kids and report back to the agency.” The hero nodded and they split off again as they reached an exploded building about to collapse… No, not just a building, an orphanage.

There was a fire inside from the explosion and the screams were coming from inside it. “Clear out the street, I’ll go inside and rescue whoever I can.” He said to his and the hero’s communication device.

“Got it, be careful.” The hero’s voice came through in response.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he surrounded his body with an energy outline that would protect him from the flames, and rushed inside the burning building.

He looked in every room, trying his hardest to keep his focus on his energy shield while doing so, fortunately he had a lot of practice with this particular shield trick seeing as it was very useful in battles. He finally found a group of frightened kids, coughing violently from the smoke and looking with terror at the ever approaching flames.

He manifested an energy surface beneath them, breaking the outside wall with an energy fist and slowly, and carefully sending the kids hovering in the air and slowly lowered them to the safe ground.

That done, he made sure there wasn’t anyone else in the building, before getting out himself just a moment before the building finally collapsed, luckley the streets were cleared so no bystander got hurt.

Janus was a second away from collapsing himself… he was done for the day.

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

The following day, Janus went to the hospital to check on the orphans he rescued, as he waited, he was surprised to see Logan approach him, rather than a doctor.

“Logan? Why are you here? Were any heroes injured?” Though, if that were true, they would probably be at a special hospital for super powered individuals, not here.

Logan looked uncharacteristically hesitant, before shaking his head and just gesturing for Janus to follow him, “it’ll be easier to show you.” he said.

Anxiety rising, Janus followed, he worried something happened to one of the kids… but then what does this have to do with Logan and the hero agency?

As they got closer to the room, the air started feeling strangely cold, like winter weather but inside… then he saw… Purple lightning? He looked curiously at Logan who just nodded, he didn’t imagine it then.

Inside the room was a storm… literally, storm clouds gathered over the ceiling, flashing with purple lightning, thunder following soon after.

On the patient bed stood a boy, not over 10, face angry yet determined, a younger kid cowering behind him.

“No one touches my brother!” Yelled the older boy, purple lighting emphasising his words. The doctor and nurse standing helplessly to the side.

Janus understood now, this wasn’t a normal orphan, it was a super powered orphan… Just like Janus was, and it’s possible the younger brother was one too.

“Can you aid in calming him down? He won’t listen to anyone and we can’t get close enough.” Logan asked pleadingly.

Janus nodded, approaching the child slowly, making eye contact with him and putting his hands up in surrender. He put his energy shield around himself and didn’t flinch when lightning tried to hit him, his energy shield deflecting it instantly.

The storm calmed down a bit as the boy noticed his softly glowing, yellow shield and looked at him curiously.

“Yeah” Janus smiled softly when he reached the bed, “I have powers too, like you do, I can create and manipulate energy. What about you? Can you do anything other than creating storms?”

The boy regarded him cautiously, shooting a glance at his brother.

“I’m not gonna hurt you or your brother, I’m a hero, I’m the one who rescued you, remember? You probably don’t recognize me without my super suit, though.” Janus said calmly. “What’s your name?” He persisted.

There was a moment of silence as the boy regarded him, then the storm dissipated, “I’m Virgil… This is my brother, Patton… I don’t know what my powers are… this is the first time I did this…” The boy, Virgil, said quietly, not meeting Janus’ eyes.

Janus nodded, powers usually start manifesting around the age of 10, for some even later. “Nice to meet you, Virgil, I understand this is scary for you but the doctors need to check you and your brother are healthy, it’s for your own good… Will you let them do their job?”

“...Could you stay?” Virgil asked, blushing slightly from embarrassment.

The question took Janus by surprise, but he smiled warmly and nodded, “I’ll stay.”

The doctor was finally allowed to get close to Virgil and Patton and he did all their necessary check ups, Janus sitting next to the bed the entire time.

When the doctor finished, Logan called Janus outside and he excused himself, promising Virgil he’ll be back.

“Janus,” he started, using his real name since he was out of costume, “those kids can’t go back to the orphanage, they need constant professional supervision.” He stated and Janus nodded in agreement. Logan took a deep breath, “would you adopt them?”

Janus stared at Logan in shock for a long moment, did Logan really just ask that?

“Very funny, Logan, you do have a sense of humor after all!” He smiled awkwardly, but Logan didn’t join in. “C’mon! You can’t be serious!”

“I’m always serious.” He said calmly, gesturing for his necktie as if it were proof.

“You want me to raise two innocent, super powered orphans? Me?” He repeated, still not believing this was happening.

“Yes, you have powers that can be used to protect you or the kids which would help as they learn to control their powers, you’re an experienced and trustworthy hero, you started off as an orphan as well, I can think of no better person for the job.” Logan explained calmly.

“B-but… what about The Duke? He’s still out there! He’ll be after me! It can put the kids at risk!” He scrambled for reasons against Logan’s proposal, he’ll be a terrible father he just knows it… it’s too much of a responsibility.

“The agency and the heroes can deal with The Duke, and, even if he comes after you, I know you’re more than capable of protecting the kids, more than any of the newer heroes or anyone from the agency. I honestly can’t think of a better option.”

Damn Logan and his logical arguments!

“...You don’t have to, of course, it’s your choice, you more than earned a quiet retirement without taking care of anyone but yourself.” Logan said with a small, genuine smile.

Janus was ready to refuse, but then he glanced at Virgil’s frightened form on the bed through the window, and suddenly he couldn’t bear the thought of giving him to someone else without knowing how he and his brother are doing… how had he grown attached to these kids so quickly?

They remind you of yourself…

Janus sighed, damn his soft heart… “I’ll do it.” He said eventually.

Logan looked relieved, “thank you, the agency will support you with any financial aid you might need, and a secure location all three of you can live in comfortably.”

Janus nodded, wondering what he just got himself into…