#anyways that's all you're going to be hearing from me about this

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 when a younger recruit has a very obvious crush on you (not dating yet)

Oh, anon. I had fun with this one. Simply because it's a "we aren't dating yet so why are you jealous" scenario just waiting to happen. That's where my mind went with this. The boys have zero claim on you but they are possessive and territorial as fuck. omg. Do you hear that? It's me standing outside screaming because I need to get a fucking grip. Anyway! Enjoy!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (gn!reader except on Simon's)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): hidden feelings, jealousy, possessive behavior, intimidation, crushes, suggestive themes, swearing

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John is the superior here. He's the one in charge.

Yet he feels completely out of control.

This isn't happening. This isn't fucking happening. He has spent months—months gently putting himself before you. Jealousy and possession are strange to him. They don’t come easy. And yet here they are, eating him from the inside out, chewing away at his resolve.

Anger and irritation are starting to seep in.

A new recruit with an obvious crush shouldn't make him this irate. There isn't any competition, but John can't help himself. All he sees is this wanker making eyes at you, speaking softly and with such tenderness that it's driving John up the fucking wall.

Which is insane. Stupid. You do not belong to him. The two of you are not dating—not anything—but somehow that doesn't matter.

His feet are moving before he even realizes it. The recruit turns in John's direction and instantly pales.

Good. Fucking good.

You turn too, brow furrowed.

"Captain?" asks the recruit, straightening his spine.

John shoves himself between, staring the recruit down, all venom. "You're wanted elsewhere."

"Y—yes. Sir."

The recruit salutes and takes off, the primal jealousy purring softly with contentment.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is going to grind his teeth into dust if he doesn’t unclench his jaw.

What the fuck is this bloke doing over on this side of the complex anyway? He’s a goddamn new recruit. Freshly arrived and still green.

Do you even realize he’s flirting? Kyle can tell just be the way he stands far too close, or the subtle way he touches your arm. His smile is stupidly large. The man is completely struck by you. You appear completely oblivious, having a conversation with him like there’s nothing amiss.

Nope. Kyle is pissed. Furious. Which is fucking ridiculous. The two of you are not a couple, even though Kyle wishes otherwise.

“You look right scunnered.” Soap appears at Kyle’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“That,” he growls.

Soap frowns, following Kyle’s line of sight. Soap’s frown turns to a knowing smirk. He turns it on Kyle with a mischievous glint. “Want Ghost to scare the shit out of him?”

The rest of the team knows how Kyle feels about you even if they don’t comment on it.

“That would be great,” says Kyle flatly.

Soap lightly pats Kyle’s shoulder. Turning around, he cups his hands around his mouth. “Hey, Lt!”

John "Soap" MacTavish

"I could rig an explosive. Put it under his bunk. That’d be fucking brilliant,” murmurs Johnny.

"We're looking to scare him. Not to maim everyone in his immediate radius,” replies Kyle.

"What about a firework? Poppers? Oh! A stink bomb?"

"That’s fucking childish, Johnny,” mutters Simon.

Johnny isn't jealous. Really, he's not.

He's just...protective. That's what he tells himself anyway.

Kyle, Johnny, and Simon observe you from across the communal gym. A new recruit from the latest batch is hanging on the ropes of the boxing ring. His stance is casual, skin glistening with sweat as he gives you his best smile while he chats you up.

The lad is putting it on thick, and Johnny is having none of it.

You are not Johnny’s spouse. You are not dating. You are not his…anything.

But that hardly matters.

Because Johnny has stolen plenty of kisses from you. He’s put his hands on your body. He’s been far too close for the comfort of a coworker or friend. In that, there is a claim. Johnny can draw the line somewhere.

He is so close to making you his.

No one is getting in his way. Not even a charming new recruit.

Simon "Ghost" Riley (Female Reader)

"Don't do it, Simon. It's not worth it."

Johnny's words don't satiate the anger. Rage is boiling beneath Simon's skin. It is white hot—fierce. All of this emotion and yet Simon has no claim over you.

It still hurts. Still aches.

The two of you are not together—not dating. But it's Simon's name you scream with pleasure, and that counts for fucking something.

His fists clench, muscles coiled with wrought tension. Johnny places his hands on Simon's shoulders and shoves him back down in his seat. If Simon weren’t ready to flay his newest target alive, Johnny wouldn’t be so bold.

"Remove. Your. Hands," growls Simon, slowly.

Kyle grimaces, his gaze darting between Simon and Johnny. He looks ready to jump in if Johnny needs him.

"I'm doing this for you, Lt,” murmurs Johnny, even as his hands keep the pressure.

"She's mine."

"We know,” reply Johnny and Kyle in unison.

One of the new recruits is putting on his best performance, following you around like a lovesick puppy. Johnny is right. Simon can't go over there and knock the man to the ground, no matter how much he wants to.

"Take a deep breath, Lt."

"I'm trying."

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[vampiresbloodx]

Arcane imagine.

arcane characters react to you confessing your feelings to them.

characters included: Mel medarda, Caitlyn, vi, jinx, sevika

warnings: mutual pinning, yearning, fluff, slight angst, happy ending, implied smut, flirting, kissing, yeah .

Mel medarda;

You've been crushing on Mel for the longest time, you don't even know when it started, as you two have known each other for a while now, you both were kinda friends, you were never really sure, but you always felt so close to her

She had felt the same, she liked sticking by your side, hearing about your day, your projects, what you are thinking, anything, she loved listening to you talk

It was the one thing that made her day better, and seeing your face of course

It happened so suddenly, these feelings you'd never expect just came to you, Mel was just there, and you fell in love

Not that anyone could blame you, really, she's a goddess

you always wondered why on earth she'd spend time with you, someone so beautiful, so perfect, that you can't help but always admire, no matter the time and place

When you're anxious, you think of Mel, she makes everything better

When you're alone, you think of Mel

When you're with mel, you think of her

When you spot a pretty flower, you think of Mel

One time, you unintentionally picked a couple of flowers, making them look all pretty as you practically skipped your way to where Mel would be. But she wasn't alone, jayce was there, another boy she was working with

You thought they looked close, and you started to back away from them, your heart sinking, you felt your throat get tight, god, you felt so stupid, of course she would like a man like jayce, why would she ever like you? You were always just going to be her friend

Later that same day, it had turned to night, you spent the rest of the day in bed, ignoring everything and everyone, you were hurt, confused, annoyed with yourself

You just wanted it all to go away

When you heard a knock at your door, and your eyes widened, you looked up, you were about to tell them to go away, whoever it was, that's when you heard a familiar voice

"hey, it's me."

It was Mel's.

You wanted so badly to ignore her, for her to just walk away, but you knew she wasn't going to do that, you closed your eyes and signed, eventually getting up as you walked towards the door and opened it for her

"what do you want? I'm trying to sleep..." You said, hating how you sounded speaking to her. You watched the way Mel frowned, how she looked so worried, her hand reached out and you flinched, she didn't show how much that saddend her.

"you didn't join me for dinner, I was worried. I had came to check on you, oh! I should tell you on what Jayce and I have been up to so far-"

You shook your head, turning away as your back faced her, "I don't wanna hear about him."

That was all Mel needed to hear.

She smiled, stepping closer to you as she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in, you tried to protect but nothing came out and she wasn't letting you go anyways

There was no point

"tell me what's wrong, I know what you're like when you try and push others away, don't do that to me, please" she murmured, her voice soft and calming in your ears as you stared at the ground

you felt your eyes water

"I like you, Mel" you sniffled, you were ready for her to leave, for your friendship to be over. "I've always liked you Mel, more than how friends should like one another, I just I was so scared. But then I saw you with Jayce, and I got jealous, I grew distant, because I couldn't face you, I couldn't look at you in the eyes the same, knowing that he can be better for you than I could ever be."

For a moment, you didn't hear anything, you still heard her breathing from behind you as your heart thumped loudly in your chest.

Then she forced you to turn around and look into her eyes as her hand grabbed your chin, "you mean more to me than anyone could ever be, Why would you think such things?, you're more than my friend, you're my love, my laughter, my everything, this is all I ever wanted to hear from you" Mel said, she smiled so brightly, she looked gorgeous, you wanted to kiss her

You caressed her cheek with her hand, "can... Can I?" You were hesitant to ask, she chuckled, crashing her lips against yours, you melted into the kiss, wanting to stay here forever and ever, she tasted like strawberries and honey, you never wanted to get rid of that taste

Caitlyn;

Caitlyn knew there was something off about you the moment you stopped talking to her as much like you usually would

She found it strange, so unlike you, she looked forward to seeing you whenever she could and hear your voice

But as of lately, she's been alone and missing a certain someone, you

She's been talking to Jayce and wondering what to do and how she can help you if there is anything going on, she'd want to help, she was your friend, your best friend even

So it hurt her when you suddenly stopped hanging out with her

She couldn't stop thinking about you, if she had done anything to cause this, she was freaking herself out

She had even gone to Viktor and ask for his advice, he was sort of helpful, but it wasn't like he was cupid and had the best advice for crushing on your friend

Caitlyn missed you, a lot

She went to your place to find you, surprisingly, you weren't there, she looked at the library, she didn't see you, eventually, she did find you, sitting outside by a tree, you looked so pretty, she couldn't help but admire, she ran up to you, excited, she needed to be around you again

"Cait?..." You said, looking surprised, she wasn't sure why you would be, she didn't say anything and just hugged you tightly

You hugged her back

"where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you, you had me worried" Caitlyn's words came out rushed, you smiled at her.

"can you sit with me?" You asked.

She happily did.

"what's going on? Did something happen?-"

"Cait, let me speak."

You had cut her off before she could even finish asking more, she immediately shut up, she knew you needed to take your time to gather your words, she wanted to touch you again, but she restrained herself

"there's been a lot on my mind, that's why I haven't seen you, but I need to tell you something" you said, she can see the way you were fidgeting with your fingers, a thing you do when you're nervous, then you just randomly stood up, pacing back and forth.

"whatever you have to tell me won't be that bad-" Caitlyn tried to reassure, still you didn't listen

"I like you" you shouted at her, she blinked.

"you what?" She muttered, still processing your words

"I know this was a bad idea to tell you how I really felt, but I had to, I couldn't not tell you, I really fucking like you, Caitlyn" you said, it almost looked like you were on the verge of tears

Caitlyn stood up, you stared up at her expecting the worst, but then she cupped your face and kissed you

That alone told you enough of what she really meant, as you kissed her back, smiling

Vi;

You have always liked Vi for as long as you've known her, that wasn't anything new, anyone who's ever met you knows about your crush on her, except for one person, Vi

She's always claimed not to be an oblivious person, but people who know her also know that's obvious to see from a mile away

Vi has always been a good friend to you, more than anyone has ever been

Ekko, one of your other friends, has been telling you to confess your crush to Vi for years, yeah, it's not something that's new, you two have known each other for ages, Ekko has been through it all witnessing it, and he just wants you to tell her already

"Ekko, I don't know. I don't wanna ruin what I have with her" you muttered, the two of you were hanging out one night, catching up over snacks and games, you hear him chuckle

"you won't, trust me. I wouldn't be telling you to do this if I wasn't sure."

He was right about that. You've always trusted Ekko no matter what it is, he's always had a good heart

and almost most of the time he was always right

Just maybe things will go okay, if you told Vi how you really feel, she won't stop being your friend, but the fact that everyone else can see your crush on her except for her you just weren't sure

Even when you think you know her, you still can't wrap your head around her

You had planned to tell her this Friday night, where you know she'd always meet at your hangout spot, you wanted to make it look pretty, make it feel special, also it was an excuse to distract yourself from what tonight was actually for

Ekko had helped picked out the music, Vi has always liked metal and punk rock, you were sure in another lifetime she would be in a band

you had gotten the snacks, her favorites and yours, including the drinks and the gift you wanted to give her, you've set up a blanket and pillows down for you both

Your heart felt like it was beating so hard it could rip out of your chest any minute

You checked the time and your eyes widened, she was going to be here any second, fuck

You tried to stop pacing around, before you knew it she had arrived right on time, she greeted you with a smile and immediately hugged you, your cheeks warmed as you hugged her back, god you missed her so much

"what's the special occasion?" She asks with a raised eyebrow, biting her cherry as she laid down onto the blankets. "Everything looks so nice, and you got me my favorites? You spoil me."

You smiled, sitting down with her as you contemplated even telling her how you really felt, with how pretty she looks right now, you so badly wanted to kiss her

"I may have something" you said, finally able to get your words together. "Actually yes, I need to tell you something, vi" you hated how you were stuttering, you bit down on your bottom lip as you avoided her gaze.

"what's up, angel?" She said with a grin, she's always called you that, it's been her personal nickname made for you, it's always made you flustered

"Vi, I like... " You paused, trying to actually look into her eyes without looking away, "I like you."

Vi smiled, she looked like she didn't get it at first

"I like you to, angel" she chuckled.

You shake your head.

"no, vi, I actually like like you, I wanna be your girlfriend."

God you couldn't believe you actually told her

you waited for her to reject you, to just stand up and leave, but she didn't do any of that, instead Vi pulled you in closer, pressing her lips to yours as she kissed you hard, you gasped into her mouth, processing whats happening, that she's kissing you, her lips feel so soft against your own, your hand reached up to cup her face

She pulled away, letting you two have a moment to catch your breath as you felt ecstatic, "vi..."

"I've always liked you too, I'm glad you told me. I was actually planning on telling you myself, I didn't know when but you bet me to it, I'm glad you did, because this was the best, it was perfect."

You smiled, leaning in as your nose brushed against hers, she grabbed you by the shirt, making you fall into her as the night was not over just yet

Jinx;

Jinx had always been by your side for as long as you've known her, you have always been by hers, and she's always been by yours, that's just how you two were, when you met, it was an instant click, it was rare for jinx to experience that, so she kept you by for as long as she can

She loves everything about you, your entire personality, how no matter what you always make her day better, you were different, you meant a lot to her

She meant a lot to you as well

More than she'd ever know

Despite all that was happening, what you two have been through, you have always defended her, even when you didn't have to

She appreciates that, even if she doesn't tell you herself

It's like you somehow knew

She needed you, when Vi left, she needed you the most

You were one of the very few that stuck around, and you weren't going anywhere anytime soon

Jinx notices something was up when you weren't showing up to her place like you'd usually be, you were always around, as of late, she didn't see much of you

She wondered why

Did she do something wrong? Are you finally realizing you're better off without her?

No, she couldn't think like that

She was able to easily find you again, you were standing by yourself on an edge, she was concerned, extremely worried, she was so happy to see you again, but she knew she shouldn't rush you

"hey" you said, she didn't even say anything yet you knew she was here

"hi" she smiled, "what are you doing out here? It's cold" she starts to take off her jacket, she always gave you something to wear even if you don't need it right then

You let her put it on

You've always looked so pretty in her clothes

"you know, you'd be a good model, definitely have the body for it" she chuckles with a grin, unable to keep her eyes off you. She saw the way you looked down, how you smiled, she felt proud of that, a little bit cocky too. "You okay? You wanna tell me what's up? You've been avoiding me. You know how I am when people try to ignore me" she couldn't help but pout.

You turn to face her, finally looking at her, she smiles at the sight of you. "I know, I'm sorry about that, a lot has been on my mind. Jinx, there's something I have to tell you, I can't hide it anymore."

She frowned, unsure of what you meant, were you planning on leaving her? Moving away forever? Was she not going to be able to see you ever again? So many thoughts clouded her

But what you told her was nothing she was expecting

"I like you, Jinx, for so long, I've liked you, and no, not in the platonic way, yes, that too, I mean you've meant something more to me for a long time" you said, staring into her gaze as her mouth hangs open, you what?

She rushes to you, wrapping her arms around you tightly as she feels like she could almost cry, good tears this time, her heart was beating so fast she laughed loudly

"why didn't you tell me sooner?" She grinned, cupping your face with both of her hands like you were her entire world, you are, you've always been. "I've liked you since forever, idiot, jeez, finally one of us came clean about it. I was gonna make a dramatic reveal to you but this was so you. I like it. I really like you too. A lot. Please be mine."

And you happily did, you kissed her, that night was the best night of your lives.

Sevika;

Sevika wasn't an easy woman to read, some people have found it hard to even get under her skin, find out what makes her tick, what makes her squirm, loose balance

But you'd be a fool to test her

Then again, you were always known to be a foolish one

When people see you two together, they can't see it, you were brighter, much bubbly, always smiling then there was Sevika, scary, intimating, will kill you with one look

You two were total opposites, no one could understand how you worked so well together

But you just made it work

You were the book smart to Sevika's street smart, which is why silco partnered you with his most trusted a lot, she couldn't exactly argue with it at first, she still did, complaining about having to babysit you, despite the fact that she wasn't that much older than you anyways

Okay, maybe by a few years older, but you didn't need a god damn babysitter

She knew how to piss you off, and you knew how to annoy her as well

It went back and forth, at first, you two fought a lot,there were a lot of misunderstandings, people were even nervous to get in between you both, you two were just so loud about everything that only silco can shut you both up

Eventually, after a while, a long while, things started to settle, and Sevika understood why silco picked you

She knew he wouldn't pick any random person, he had his reasons

Then something weird started to happen, she grew more protective over you, sure, she knew she was already protective of those she cared most, but you, she wasn't sure about, it just happened all of a sudden, if anyone was bothering you, hell, if anyone tried to hurt you, hell would be unleashed

Jinx would always mock her of how much she protects you and will do anything for you, Sevika tries to fight it, her stubbornness winning, but as soon as she sees you, her walls are being cut down, forced to let you see her, as she watches you from afar, admiring your work and talents, how much dedication and time you put into things, she's actually impressed by you

The first time she ever complimented you had you feeling all giddy for weeks, months even, you wanted nothing more than to be praised by her again

Jinx was over it

How much you talked about her, how pretty she is, she'd literally gagged at how love sick you were about her, she was so tempted to shove you both in a closet to hurry the hell up and get it over with

But she knew sevika would kill her

Then again, she's reached a point where she couldn't care less

When Jinx was able to get you two alone together to finally actually talk things out, she did, she was gonna make it work, even if she had to be dramatic and pull a little strings

She would live with the fact that Sevika was gonna be pissed at her for a long time, possibly forever if this goes terribly wrong, but she doubts it would

It was a late Saturday night, everyone was still awake and hanging around, Sevika was sitting at the bar, right where Jinx told her where to meet, Jinx watched as you finally showed up, looking all nice as she grinned, walking away from it, letting it all play out

"Sevika?" You muttered, confused to see her there

But fuck did she look good

She frowned at the sight of you, about to say something, but her words fell flat at what you were wearing, you looked beautiful

Like really fucking gorgeous

"you look... Nice."

Your cheeks warmed at that, hearing her compliment you as you looked away from her gaze that was too intense for you

"yeah, I was told you'd be here... Jinx told me you wanted to speak to me about something important."

Then it clicked to her.

"fuckin' jinx" she groaned, shoving her glass away. "She set us up."

"what?" You said, dumbfounded, going to sit next to her.

There was a pause, you stared in the distance, distracted, she stared at you more, admiring your features, how pretty you looked in that dress

She's never seen you wear something so formal

It suited you

She bit down on her bottom lip, all of a sudden feeling nervous to speak

"how do you feel about us?" You asked, still not looking at her, she frowned

"us?" She repeated.

You nodded, turning your head to look at her in the eyes

"yeah, me and you. We're a good team, you make a good partner" you say. She felt her heart skip a beat, what the fuck was happening? Why were you being so nice to her?

"what is it" she muttered, "just tell me what you want."

"huh?" You looked confused.

"fuckin' hell" she groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Tell me."

"I like you" you spat out before you could even think.

She raised an eyebrow at you.

"say that again?."

"sevika" you sighed, she liked the way her name sounded coming from your lips, she wanted to hear it again. "This is already awkward as fuck, I like you, okay, fuck, I never hated you, well, maybe at some point I disliked you, at the start, but even then, you're a goddess, fucking look at you, your stunning, anyone would fall for that."

That took her off guard, definitely not what she was expecting

"if you want to cuss me out and stop being partners I'll accept I-"

She shut you up with her lips, pressing herself into you as you almost fell off your stool. She grabbed onto you as you held on tight, kissing her hard, as you moaned into her mouth.

After a while, she didn't want to stop kissing you, neither did you want to stop, you both broke away breathless, pressing your foreheads against each others

"come to mine?" She says with a smile

It's not often you see Sevika smile

"lead the way."

[awrkive]

Wer is grumpy jk! We badly need it 😫😭

summary: you and jungkook are getting closer, moving forward – but to where, exactly? what does that entail for your relationship? 

w/c: 3.3k

note: this is for all the girlies who asked for part 2 for this drabble. nothing but fluff in here ): ive been thinking abt college jk lately and i lowkey like this grumpy!jk guy… basically this takes place two months after the first drabble u may read this amm for grumpy!jk for a brief bg on what their relationship has become before u go read this parr. anyway the ending is a bit diabolical and im saying sorry in advance

also pls listen to come here by kath bloom, its literally so them 😮‍💨😖

It’s almost natural the way Jungkook immediately slings his backpack on one shoulder, heads straight out of the lecture hall, and starts the almost ten-minute walk from his department building to yours the moment his last class for the day was dismissed. 

He waits outside by the hallway along the lecture room, scrolling through his phone mindlessly, knowing that any minute now you’ll be coming out of the door. 

And just as a slew of students’ chattering becomes louder, their heavy footsteps coming out from the hall, Jungkook instantly spots you; talking to a friend animatedly – Joy, maybe? – before you look to the other side and finally see him. 

“Jungkook!” You exclaim with excitement, smiling up at him and even doing a little wave. Jungkook watches as you turn to your friend. “Sorry, I gotta go. Zoom meeting at five, right?” He hears you say before she nods, bidding your goodbyes to each other before she goes in the opposite direction while you saunter towards him with that usual dashing grin on your face. 

Jungkook meets you halfway, lips curling up slightly at your enthusiastic greeting. Even more so when you don’t fight off the way he goes for your tote bag, taking it off your shoulder and wearing it on his own, the weight not adding that much to his own bag perched on his back. 

He remembers the first time he tried to do it (awkwardly, might he add), and you vehemently refused. But Jungkook can be persistent sometimes when he wants to, and eventually you gave up trying to resist.

Currently, as you walk along the hallway out of your building, standing close together, Jungkook tries not to think too much about how easy this feels. Like it’s normal the way you immediately interlock your arm around his own, skipping a little bit upon your walk as you begin speaking.

“You really did cut your hair.” You marvel at him when he looks down at you. And he can’t help it; the blood rushing to his cheeks and certainly on his ears. 

“I sent you a picture.” He simply says. It was yesterday. He originally went to his barber for just a trim but he remembers you saying something about a particular actor’s haircut… and look, it’s not like he was trying to look like that man but it may have influenced the decision a little bit… 

Anyway, he thinks it looks okay on him. He trusts his barber and Hoseok said it suits him. From your response, you also said it looks nice. 

And you tell him so. “I like it! You look so good. Especially with this frame!” You point to his eyeglasses, smiling up at him. “I was thinking you were just sending me a random picture last night.” 

Jungkook chuckles. “I wasn't, and uh, thank you.”

“You're welcome. Anyway,” you say, “Did you wait for long earlier? Sorry ‘bout that. Prof. Shin had to extend a little bit ‘cause there were a lot of questions about our new project.” 

“You have a new project?”

“Yeah, but nothing really heavy. Just a hotel lobby interior design. We got a week and it’s a paired task thing, that’s why you saw me with Joy earlier—”

He sees a flock of students ahead huddling by your side of the pathwalk, and because you have a tendency to not really pay that much attention to your surroundings, he takes you by the waist slightly to avoid bumping with them, causing you to stumble closer to him. 

You crane your neck to look behind you for a moment, gaze falling back up to Jungkook with widened eyes. “Sorry.” you say with a jutted lip and a little frown. 

“It’s okay.” Jungkook says with a reassuring smile. He means it. He likes being close like this and if you don’t watch your surroundings, he’ll just do it for you. He doesn’t mind. 

You grin. “Anyway… I was saying, it’s a hotel interior. But! The thing is, it’s a themed hotel, which I’m really excited about ‘cause I’m tired of designing contemporary, luxury ones. They always tend to be so redundant.” 

Jungkook nods. “I think so too. What’s the themed hotel about?” 

“Have you heard of a film called Metropolis?” He shakes his head. You nod at that. “Well, yeah, me neither. At least a week ago. Prof gave it to us as an assignment and it’s a silent film from the ‘20s. A sci-fi tale, so very futuristic – at least for that time. So that’s the theme of the hotel, right, and Joy and I immediately thought of art deco.” 

Jungkook intently listens as you go on about your initial ideas, and he doesn’t even have to worry about the terms he doesn’t understand because you always take time to explain it to him in layman’s. It’s funny, really, because ever since he’s learned that you study interior design and started to talk to him about it, he found himself taking interest in it as well. Two months ago, he couldn't have given a single care about a couple named Charles and Ray Eames and their weird chair called La Chaise, but here he is, anyway.

Maybe it’s because of the way you so passionately talk about it. Your zeal oozes out so much when it comes up as the topic of conversation, and there’s always been something about you that pulls people right in. And Jungkook’s at peace with himself now that he’s just one of those people. 

He’s willing to be pulled right in, anyway. You don’t exactly make it hard to. 

And Jungkook finds that the newfound dynamic between you two isn’t… so bad. He finds excitement at the prospect of seeing you after his classes are concluded, going to Fro-yo for a quick snack because you’re obsessed with it, and studying together at his place later in the day.

A lot of people would say he’s making up for all the times he’s ignored you. The times when he pretended to not care about you. The times when he was just unprovokedly mean and treated you the way he regrets now. And sure, it may have started that way. Ever since your Environmental Science project was finished and the term was over, Jungkook started to feel like he couldn’t go back to the life where you weren’t within his perimeter. Couldn’t imagine you both being back to – practically – regular strangers, so he just… opened up to you more.

He shares his own stories now. Tells you about his day after you do so, and invites you to Fro-yo and other cafes and restaurants around campus whenever your schedules align. 

And maybe at first it was, indeed, because he was trying to make up for his past behavior – but that may have only been what he convinced himself of for the first few weeks. When the week stretched into months and the months suddenly involved you doing sleepovers at his place whenever his roommate, Hoseok, is not around, Jungkook is starting to question himself if this is all still about simply making it up to you. 

Because frankly, he’s starting to feel like it's a little more than that.

He’s not just buying you frozen yogurt and helping you with any assignment (that requires his silly and minuscule math and science expertise) and letting you borrow and keep his hoodies and shirts whenever you sleep over because he’s trying to make up for the past – he’s doing all of these because he genuinely enjoys your company and would like to do more for you… with you… to you… and just… just more. 

He wants more with you. 

And every single day is a daunting battle for his internal mullings. 

Because he knows he’s been stupid all this time not to realize right away that he’s got romantic feelings for you. That his confusion when it comes to you didn't come from the reason that you were extremely extroverted and had way too much energy – it was that those things made him like you and his little heart and brain couldn’t comprehend any of it the way he can easily wrap his head around math equations and concepts.

But he keeps himself on the sidelines. Thinks about keeping himself there until he’s sure of what you truly think about. 

You’re always nice to him. But you’re kind of nice to everybody… so that gets him a little twisted.

On Monday, when you were supposed to hang out – when you usually sleep over at his place, you bailed on him to study with Jae, as per Taehyung's words, your mutual friend.

He just can’t tell if the way you treat him is different to the way you treat everyone else, and that’s what’s been on his mind lately. 

“Oh, Kookie,” you say as soon as Jungkook takes out his keys, going for his keyfob when you arrive at the parking area. He looks at you in question, completely ignoring the way his heart flutters a little at the nickname. He kind of hates it, thinks it's too childish when other people call him that – but with you it sounds so much like an endearment, so he doesn't protest. You press your lips into a thin line before you say, “I can’t go to Fro-yo today. Joy and I agreed to have a zoom meeting later to start conceptualizing.” 

“Oh,” Jungkook blinks. “Rain check?” 

You pout. “Yeah.” 

“You can do it at my place? Hoseok’s doing an all-nighter with his study group, so he won’t be there ‘til the morning.”

“But I didn’t bring my laptop today.”

With furrowed brows, Jungkook steps closer to you. “It’s alright. We can drive to your place, get your laptop then go to mine,” he smiles. “Sleepover?” 

Jungkook doesn’t want to toot his own horn but he may have seen your face light up at that. But it comes off easily and he begins to worry.

“I want to, but I don’t want to impose.” You say. 

Instantly, Jungkook’s forehead creases. “You won’t be imposing.” When he sees that you’re about to decline again, he lets out a, “Please?” 

At that, you stop. You stare at him for a moment. 

“Uh…” you trail off. “You sure? Are you not busy tonight?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll probably start on an assignment so we can be both busy–” you nudge his arm at that, laughing. “– but other than that, no. I’ll cook us something. Or do you want to get take-out instead?” 

“I’d really, really appreciate your black bean noodles tonight.” You muse, looking at him like he holds the stars in the sky. With you gazing up at him like that, how can he say no?

“I think we have the ingredients in the fridge. Black bean noodles it is, then.” Jungkook says before you’re muffling your own squeal in your excitement, saying your little delighted “thank you” when Jungkook ushers you in the passenger seat after opening it for you. 

He rounds the car before he settles on his side, and when he starts the engine, he can’t help but smile slightly at the way you lean comfortably on your seat, as if you’re so used to being in his car – which you are.

And Jungkook finds he likes that. He likes you that way; being used to being around him. 

“You’re done?” Jungkook looks up from his computer, seeing you doing some arm stretches and leaning into his gaming chair to do it on your neck as well. 

“Yep.” 

“Then come here already.” He shuts his laptop close, places it on the bedside table, and pats the space on the mattress next to him. 

It’s nearly 10pm and your zoom meeting with Joy went for nearly 4 hours. You got on it immediately after you two ate your dinner, and like clockwork, asked to borrow one of Jungkook’s shirts because your top was getting a little too uncomfortable on your body. You’ve both already showered – separately, of course – and that’s one of the many things that Jungkook smiles about when he enters his bathroom sometimes. Because the fact that you shower in his bathroom means your essentials are slowly making a space for themselves in his own place; the yellow cup holder of your toothbrush sits next to his blue one, and a bottle of your moisturizer is also in his lavatory cabinet. 

“‘M so tired” You let yourself fall on the mattress, bouncing a little on it face down, sprawling across the bed like some starfish, your other hand landing on Jungkook’s abdomen. 

“Meeting went well?” Jungkook asks, and he’s a little disappointed when you remove an arm on him, but that’s okay, because soon you’re leaning sidewards to properly look at him and it makes him smile to see you so cozy like this. Barefaced and in his shirt. 

“Yeah, we got some work done,” You say. Jungkook watches as you try to get comfortable on your side of the bed. “I think I’m sleepy now.” 

“Yeah?” He follows after you, and he doesn’t hide his huge smile when you go and turn your back to him immediately after he slides his arm under your neck, spooning you from behind. Snuggling closer to him, Jungkook wraps his other arm around your waist and lets out a contented sigh against the back of your head. “My first class is at one thirty pm tomorrow.” 

“I have one at eight am. Then the next one is at ten.” 

“Tough.” 

“I know… I wish I didn’t enlist in morning classes.” 

He chuckles, closing his eyes as he starts to feel that familiar lull of sleep dancing behind his eyes. But truth be told, he doesn’t want to give into that just yet.

“You were with Jae on Monday?” He asks, carefully treading through the subject. It’s Thursday now. It's not like Jungkook’s a jealous guy… it just kind of threw him off a little, because you didn’t tell him you were with Jae. 

“Uh… yeah?” Jungkook feels you freezing in his arms. “How’d you know?” 

“Taehyung told me.” 

“Oh.” He can practically hear the wince. “He has such a big mouth.” You say drily. 

That earns you a laugh from Jungkook. But he decides to take down the jokes for a more honest and open conversation with you tonight. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It’s not accusatory. It’s soft and gentle, the way he asks it, with his thumb rubbing the exposed skin of your hip due to the hem of your – his – shirt riding up. 

Your answer takes awhile. 

“I was… getting help with estimates.” 

“... Okay,” Jungkook tightens his hold around you, growing confused. “But I’m really good with estimates. I could’ve helped you.” It was easy math for him. And you never shied away from asking him for help before… why now?

“Well, he offered.” 

Jungkook’s brows crease deeper. “That’s not…" he trails off, then continues, "You know you can ask me for anything, right? Jae’s not even on the dean's list. How’d you know he’s teaching you the right stuff?”  

Silence hangs in the air before Jungkook hears your laughter. Shuffling in his arms, Jungkook loosens his hold around you to let you turn to him. When he sees your face, there's a huge grin on it.

“He’s not even on the dean’s list?” You sound intrigued.

Jungkook assumed you were curiously speaking, and so he nods, looking into your eyes seriously. “He isn’t. Look, I’m not saying–” when he notices your smile only getting wider by the second, he realizes you’re just trying to fuck with him, so Jungkook cuts himself off, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I sound like an asshole.”

You scoot closer until both the front of your bodies are stuck. Jungkook tries not to think too much whether you’re wearing a bra underneath his shirt or not. 

You shake your head. “Not really. I believe you’re way smarter than him.” 

“Then why come to him and not me?” 

You stare at him for a moment, then you let out a heavy breath. “I just feel like you’re doing so many things for me nowadays. You were also really busy on Monday– don’t deny it–” you say before he opens his mouth to oppose that. He shuts his lips close, listening to you go on instead. “– and I was just being considerate. Jae offered because we saw and sat next to each other at the library, and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to disturb you.” 

Jungkook blinks, processing your words. After a pregnant pause, he slowly nods, still dumbstruck. 

“Ah… okay. I understand.” he says, embarrassment slowly filling his system. 

You smile at him. Playfully. “Sorry for asking help from someone who’s not on the dean’s list.” Jungkook drops his expression into a poker face at that, which makes you laugh even more. You nibble on your bottom lip before you stretch your hand to his cheek and pinch it. He doesn’t bother dodging your hand. With a giggle, you say, “Sorry, sorry. That was just so funny. You’re so funny without even trying sometimes, you know?” 

“Not really.” Jungkook says and you can tell the tell-tale signs of his grumpiness starting to kick in.

What he doesn’t expect is the way you suddenly squeal and launch yourself on top of him, causing him to lie fully on his back with you sprawled all over his body, hugging him tight and burying your face in his chest. 

“You’re so cuddly and warm. Can we stay like this for awhile?” You break away from his chest and look at him from a low angle. 

Jungkook meets your gaze. 

Sure, you’ve been cuddling (platonically) all these past few months – but they never went to this length. And he’s not sure what the difference is, anyway – just that you’re much closer like this and Jungkook can feel everything. Still, that doesn’t deter him from wrapping his arms around your waist, slightly locking you in the position. Quite frankly, he doesn’t even want you to move. 

“Alright.” Is his simple answer. Not like he needed to think about it.

“I’ll sleep now, okay?” But you don’t wait for his response before you lay on his chest again with your cheek pressed on his hoodie.

Because the moment just feels right somehow, Jungkook lets his hand wander on your head. Then slowly, he lets his fingers comb through the strands of your hair, tentatively at first, lest you didn’t want him touching you or something like that – but once he hears a sound akin to a purr coming from you, he continues and finds himself getting comforted by the action as well. 

“The Jae thing really bothered you?” You ask suddenly, not breaking away from the position you’ve assumed on top of his body. But your words are slightly slurred in the haze of sleep.

Jungkook hums. “Yes.” 

“Sorry for not telling you myself.” 

“It’s okay,” Jungkook reassures you. His gaze falls to the ceiling, hand still caressing your hair. The surface is empty, and there’s not really much going on. Meanwhile, in your own bedroom, you have those glow in the dark star stickers pasted on your white ceiling. He’s never slept over there, but he thinks it would be nice to lay under your makeshift galaxy with your homely scent surrounding the two of you. “Are you not gonna ask why I was bothered?” He says after a beat. 

“I was gonna. But I think I know.” You answer, and Jungkook doesn’t expect that one bit.

He stops his ministrations on your hair, and it’s obvious that you’re about to question it when you suddenly peel your face away from his chest again. 

When you do, Jungkook meets your gaze and with a leveled tone, he asks the question he’s been mulling about for the past two months.

“__, what are we?” 

[calypsocolada]

THE MEAN ONE | i. yoichi

synopsis: you're against love, deemed the mean one of the school but someone seems to think differently... authors note: this was such a blast to write. getting the creative juices flowing. I'll attribute that to imogen heap and the fact i listened to the walk by imogen probably fifty times while writing this. anyways this is the final part in my little soccer trio series. i hope you all enjoy! wc: 5.2k cw: angst, fem reader, not proofread click here for my masterlist!

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You had a nickname in school. You’d heard it a few times from your friend's boyfriend, a few times in passing, maybe once or twice at a soccer game. The mean one. The mean friend. The mean girl. Mean. Sure… most people might’ve thought an assertive woman was a mean woman. But… to be honest… You were a bit mean. You had to be. For the longest time you’d been ignored. Your parents in and out of the house on work trips. They were busy people. Too busy for their mean little daughter. Not that they caused it or anything by practically treating you like a specter. You never wanted things to be like that at school. You never wanted to be walked all over and ignored. You were tired of feeling like a ghost. So when something was wrong, or your feelings were hurt you didn’t bottle them up like you did back at home. So sure… maybe your words came out a bit sharper than anticipated. Coupled with the fact that a scowl fits better on your face than a smile. 

To be honest it didn’t really bother you much. The people closest to you knew your heart.

What did bother you was a loud mouthed know-it-all ball kicker named Isagi Yoichi that would not or simply could not leave you alone. It was like he was addicted to raising your blood pressure. Addicted to hearing you huff and call him names. Genuinely you were starting to wonder if there was something really truly wrong with him. But also… you didn’t like to think about him too much so you chalked it up to him being an idiot with a death wish. 

“It’s just… you talk about him so passionately. One has to wonder.” Your friend cut in the middle of your Isagi rant. You stopped dead in your tracks, your friend bumping into you. You thought she was a safe person to talk to about him since all your other friends banned you from complaining about him. You turned, a possibly manic look in your eyes as your friend stepped back, amused fear on her face as she bumped into Nagi. He’d been walking silently behind your friend, blushing.They’d gotten together last week and had been inseparable since. To your dismay. You didn’t believe in love, let alone ever felt the feelings associated with crushing on someone. You weren’t sure you were even capable of that. So sure you and your pessimistic self probably weren't the best to be around right now for your friend who was practically glowing. 

“It’s true, Y/n.” Nagi yawned, throwing an arm around your friend. “One has to wonder.”

“Who the hell asked you, sloth?” You hissed, eyes sharp as Nagi pouted. Your friend gave you a look, ruffling Nagi’s hair. 

“Be nice. And if Isagi bugs you so much, stop talking to him.”

“He talks to me!” You threw your hands up dramatically. “He seeks me out!”

“He likes you.” Nagi adds as your eyes cut to his like daggers. He froze under your stare. “Or not?” He shrugged as you gathered yourself. 

“You’re no help.” You pointed at your friend as she blushed, giggling. 

“And you called me dramatic!” She called after you as you halfheartedly waved to her as you walked to your car. You spotted the devil himself pulling his soccer bag out of the back of his car. Your guys' assigned parking spots just happened to be directly next to each other so no matter what you had to see him at least twice a day. And then sometimes you had to go to his practices for student council purposes, to make sure the club was running smoothly and what not.

You fished your key’s from your bag as you approached your car, clicking the button to unlock your doors. Isagi straightened at the sound, glancing over his shoulder as his eyes landed on you. You paid him no mind as you neared your car. 

“Headed home?” He asked casually. You didn’t answer. Just pulled your trunk open and tossed your backpack inside. “Thought you were coming to practice?” He asked.

“I was there yesterday.” You argued then silently cursed yourself for answering.

“You were?” Isagi questioned, tilting his head to the side, black hair falling over his forehead.

“Yes.” You answered shortly, slamming your trunk shut. 

“Must’ve missed you.” He said, gently shutting his own trunk, his eyes glued to your every movement. You met his eyes and wrinkled your brows at him.

“What?” You huffed. A crooked smile fitted to his lips as he leisurely leaned against his trunk. 

“You come to the practices but never the actual games.”

“Why would I come to the games?” You ask as Isagi raises his brows.

“To see me in action.” He says as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You stared at him for a long moment. 

“Why the fuck would I wanna watch you in action?” You ask sharply as Isagi just laughs. There’s this thing about Isagi. No matter how annoyed or short you got with him it was like water off a duck's back. He never returned your anger, never bickered with you or huffed.

“Don’t you wanna see hard work pay off?”

“Your hardwork?” You ask as he nods his head and at that you shake your head. “Nope.”

“Come to a game.” Isagi asks as you shake your head. 

“No thanks.”

“Y/n… come on. Just one?”

“No.” You replied exasperatedly walking around towards the driver seat of your car as Isagi pushes off his car, following you.

“I’ll owe you.” He throws out as you pull your car door open.

“What?”

“I’ll owe you. Whatever you want in exchange for you coming to one of my games.” 

“Why the hell does it matter to you so much?” You hiss, turning around. Isagi looks at a loss for words for a moment.

“One game. That’s all I’m asking for.” He asks and there is this hopeful look in his eyes. You’d never been more confused in your life than this moment. Why did it matter to him if you came? 

“Did someone put you up to this?” You ask incredibly suspicious. Isagi shakes his head.

“No.”

“No?” You echo, your eyes insatiable as they dance across his face, trying and failing to read his expression. 

“No one put me up to anything.”

“Why ask me? We’re not friends. I don’t like you.”

“You don’t like me?” Isagi asks, a small knowing smirk on his lips.

“Isagi,” You cautioned as he scoffed out a laugh.

“It’s just one game. It won’t kill you. Plus I know your friend will be there, supporting Nagi.” Isagi points out as you scrunch up your face. 

“I don’t get you.”

“You don’t need to.” Isagi shrugs. “Just one game.” 

“Will you leave me alone for the rest of the school year if I go and watch you lose?” You ask sort of offhandedly with an exasperated sigh. You found yourself giving in. Isagi looks at you, there’s a strange expression on his face for a moment.

“You want that?” He asks and his voice is almost softlike, almost… hurt? But his expression changed in an instant and you wondered if you’d even heard him right in the first place. He laughed a breathy laugh, cocking his head to the side. “If that’s what you want then sure.” He sounded amused but he wasn’t meeting your eyes.

“Fine. One game.” You say cautiously, your face in a confused scowl.

“I’ll see you Friday night then.” He smirks, pushing off your car, tossing his soccer bag back over his shoulder. You watched him go, watching his wave down Nagi as they stalked off towards the field.

What the fuck just happened?

~

Friday came quickly. The week passed in a blur of cramming for tests and a whirlwind of student council projects. You barely had any time to think about your parking lot moment with Isagi. Him bargaining for you to come to one game. As your friend brushed and fixed her hair your mind wandered. It had tried to wander many times this week but you were able to block it out. Now that it was friday and barely half an hour before the game you couldn’t block it out anymore. You started thinking about Isagi. His motives. Did he want to embarrass you? 

Haha look who showed up to the game just cause I asked her!

Although you had a seemingly one sided dislike of the boy he was never outwardly cruel to you. In fact… you had always been the one starting things. You just… had a hard time believing someone would want to talk to you so goddamn much without a secret motive. As you pondered all this your friend pinched you. You yelped, rubbing your arm as she smirked at you.

“Why the sudden interest in coming to a game?” She asks as you shoot her a sharp look.

“There’s no interest, I’m just coming with you.” You shrugged. There was absolutely no way you were going to tell her about Isagi asking and you actually agreeing. 

“Right… So,” She turns you. “Did you hear about Rin and that new girl?” You couldn’t care less but you just shook your head as she rambled on about Rin Itoshi dating some girl who just moved to town a few months ago.

“Jealous?” You asked as your friend shook her head and smiled softly, a dreamy look in her eyes. She had Nagi, there was nothing for her to be jealous about. 

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” You hummed as you pulled your unruly hair back out of your face.

“Do you like anyone in school?” She asked, walking behind you and helping you braid your hair back out of your face. You scoffed a laugh and she tugged your hair slightly. “Don’t be like that. It’s not as embarrassing as you think it is.” She scolds you as you pout slightly. It was embarrassing. Saying you liked someone felt like a peak into your brain you just weren’t comfortable with letting happen. That and… you didn’t have a crush to mention anyways. 

“I don’t like anyone.” You say after a moment. “I’m the mean one remember.” You tease. Your friend must’ve heard something in your tone as she walks around to face you. 

“You aren’t mean. Did Nagi call you that recently? I told him to stop that shit.” She says protectively as you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“He hasn’t.” You amend. “But they all think so. And what do I care? That just means people will leave me be.”

“No one wants to be left alone all the time.” Your friend says, booping your nose, a small thing that has you cheering up a bit.

“I have friends. I have you. I’m good.” You wave her off, pushing to your feet. 

“That’s right, you have me.” She smirks. “Who cares about some ’know-it-all ball kicker’ you're obviously going to the game to watch.”

“You ruined a perfectly good moment.” You blush, pushing past her. “I’m not even dignifying that with a response.”

The game was just about starting by the time you and your friends arrived. You sat near the side of the field. You had watched plenty of practices. Watched drills and scrimmages and you never really considered yourself a sports person.

That’s because you’d never been to an actual live game.

“Come on! A fucking yellow flag!” You hissed, tossing your popcorn in anger. Your friend beside you looked at you with a mixture of horror and amusement. You ignored her. This other team was clearly getting special treatment from the referees. Every single thing the boys did seemed to earn them a flag. It was frustrating.

“They’re winning… by like a lot.” Your friend points out as you give her a sharp look.

“So what? Doesn’t change the fact that these refs are idiots!” You yell as a ref on the field turns, pouting. Your friend calls out sorry to him as you give him the death stare. 

“You’re way into this-”

“Hush,” You wave her off. Your eyes glued to Isagi as he sneaks up the side of the field, you watch him barely raise his head to Nagi who passes him the ball towards the left side of the goal. You grip your friend's arm hard as Isagi smashes the ball into the goal. You're on your feet in seconds as the crowd erupts in cheers, your poorly placed popcorn spilling onto the ground. You clap and cheer along with the crowd. They won 7-2. Your friend laughs hard at you, a knowing look in her eyes. 

Later you follow your friend as she pulls you through the crowd, the only time she lets go is when she spots Nagi. You watch as she takes off in a run, Nagi catching her midrun, spinning her around as she congratulates him. You watch them for a moment, a part of you feels strange. You watch your friend smile, you watch Nagi blush. Their secret moments on the crowded field. You swallowed something down, a sadness over something you didn’t understand. 

“I can’t believe it… you actually came.” A warm voice calls out to your right, you turn as Isagi pushes through the crowd over to you. His face is flushed from the game, hair pushed back off his forehead. He has this look on his face, a smile that makes your stomach twist. 

“I’m upholding my end of the deal.” You say back to him as he smiles, a soft laugh escaping him. You cross your hands defensively as something bubbles within you. “That was… a good game.”

“Just good? You seemed pretty passionate in those stands.” He smirks. You blush suddenly. Ah, he heard that. 

“Well… those refs were idiots. I stand by that.” You double down as he laughs again, fuller this time. He… had a nice laugh. A warm laugh that heated your insides. “And that final goal was… impressive. I guess.” You shrug, trying for nonchalant. 

“You guess?” Isagi echos, a beaming smile on his lips, it almost makes you smile. Almost. 

“Hey, Y/n!” Your friend calls out to you, you turn as she slams into you with a hug. “Nagi and I are gonna go get dinner. You can give her a ride home right, Isagi?” Your friend asks as you turn to her, brows furrowed, half formed curses on your lips.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Isagi agrees easily. 

“Hey! What-”

“Great!” Your friend interrupts. “Thanks Isagi. We’ll talk later, Y/n.” Your friend beams, running towards Nagi.

“What the hell! Hey!” You call after her but she’s in Nagi’s embrace as they walk off towards the parking lot. “Bitch!” Isagi scoffs a laugh at that as you turn to him. 

“I don’t mind.” He says, his eyes easy on yours. What the hell! Your friend knew everything, knew you disliked this boy… most of the time. And she left you with him. Left you as his problem to deal with. What a traitor. 

“Forget it. I don’t live too far. I can walk.” You wave off. You weren’t anyone’s problem. You’d gone to Isagi’s house before, for student council purposes, and taking you home would be out of his way.

“No.” Isagi shakes his head as he grabs his bag, tossing it over his shoulder. “It’s night time, Y/n, you can’t walk.”

“It’s out of your way though.” You point out and he gives you a look with a raised brow.

“So what?” He appealed.

“So… it’s a waste of gas.” You try to reason and he just laughs, shaking his head but when he goes to respond he’s interrupted. A girl from your class calls out to him. He turns as she beams up at him. You feel a twist in your gut at the interaction. She congratulates him on the win and blushes when he thanks her, a winning smile on his lips. The girl glances your direction, she blinks. 

“Y/n? I didn’t know you’d be here.” She greets as you shrug.

“Me neither.” You say as she looks between you and Isagi before looking you up and down. She pouts at something when she looks back at Isagi and when you turn to look at him he’s looking at you, a strange almost… soft expression on his face. You look away instantly.   

“Well… that last goal was something.” The girl directs the attention back to her as she reaches out, barely touching Isagi’s arm. “You’re really good at soccer, Isagi… you must practice a whole lot.” She bats her eyes and you're suddenly very aware that you don’t want to be a part of this conversation anymore. When she starts talking again you slowly slink away, weaving through the crowd back towards the parking lot, your knee jerk reaction winning. 

You couldn’t stand there another moment. For some reason that girl infuriated you. For some reason you felt warm and red and annoyed. These were feelings you didn’t understand and that freaked you out. When it came to fight or flight this time you chose flight. 

You passed the gate of the field and wrapped your arms closer to your body, shivering from the cold. You did not live close by whatsoever, it’d easily take you an hour to walk home. You supposed you could try and jog the whole way but who were you kidding, you read more than you moved. You pulled out your phone, looking through your contacts. Both your parents were out for the rest of the week. You couldn’t call your traitorous friend who caused all this in the first place and your other two friends you didn’t want to bother. You heaved a sigh. Walking it was…

“Y/n!” Isagi called, you heard his cleats slamming against the pavement as he searched for you. Embarrassment flooded your system and you were half tempted to duck and hide. But instead you stopped as he finally caught sight of you. A relieved sigh escaped his lips as he made his way to you, bobbing and weaving through the cars.

“You were seriously going to leave and walk home without saying anything?” He asked as you shrugged.

“You were… flirting so I thought i’d just-”

“Flirting?” Isagi echoes, shaking his head in a resolute way. “Not with her, no.” He leaves no room for discussion, no room for doubt in his steady tone.

“Oh I thought…” You trail off, clearing your throat, shivering from the cold. Isagi notices in an instant, pulling off his own jacket. He steps in your space, he’s taller than you, just barely. He throws the jacket over your shoulders, his hands still on the jacket as it’s on you. You two are close and when you tilt your head up your eyes meet his. There’s a spark of tension, it starts when he chances a touch. His hands just barely glide over your upper forearms, rubbing up and down to warm you. It ignites through you like a lit match, lighting you up from the point of contact all throughout your body. It makes you lightheaded and speechless, something you never were. You always had a quip, something to say, something to hide behind. But that spark, that fire had dismantled any coherent thought. It dulled your sharp tongue. 

“Come on, it’s cold out.” Isagi persuades softly and only when he pulls away do you find your wits. You blink a few times. How the hell does a short lingering touch have you in such a way? You blamed it on your lack of romance, you reasoned in a short amount of time that lack of attention clearly had you starving for any bone thrown your way.

Yeah.

Yeah. That’s it. You reasoned.

You followed Isagi, paused as he tossed his bag in the trunk and blushed when he opened the passenger door for you.

“I can open my own door.” You said but your words lacked their usual bite. 

“I know you can.” Isagi says. You slid inside and cringed at yourself. You wanted to smack yourself as your heart sped in your chest. You argue with this boy day after day but he gives you his jacket and suddenly you blush like a schoolgirl? You needed to get home quickly and also never speak to your friend ever again. Isagi jumps into the driver's seat, turning over his car as he fiddles with the heat. “Better?” He asks as you look at him sharply.

“It’s fine.” You answer curtly but if you sound annoyed he doesn’t pretend to notice. He smiles, putting the car in reverse as he backs out of the spot, one handed. You watch him and hate the fact that your eyes linger on his hands on the wheel. You tear your eyes away. What got you in this seat? Your friend left you… probably purposefully. You went to the game because Isagi asked? No, he made a deal… “I showed up to your game. Are you gonna hold up your side of the deal?” You asked. He promised not to talk to you the rest of the year and to be honest… you hoped he would because you felt something shift tonight. That strong feeling you claimed to feel for him for so long didn’t seem to fit anymore. That strong dislike was melting and the defensive measures built within you were reaching out pushing that wall back up with all its might. You couldn’t let him in. Your parents hated each other, they claimed it to be love. You had made a choice long ago that if that’s what love was then that’s not something you ever wanted to feel. Love was a sickness. You were lonely. It wasn’t going to be your cure. Some stupid boy wasn’t going to wreck you in one stupid night. This meant nothing. It couldn’t mean anything. As much as you didn’t want to be a ghost floating about life… you weren’t exactly ready to be seen like that. 

“The deal, huh?” Isagi asks lightheartedly. “And what was that again?”

“You’ll leave me alone… for the rest of the year.” You answer, your eyes flicking to the side of his face. He’s amused, you can see it in the curve of his mouth. He drums his fingers on the wheel.

“Ah. That…” He trails off. “You know… I seem to recall a little clause in that deal.”

“Hm?” 

“Well… when you made the deal you specifically said I’d have to stop talking with you if you came along and…”

“And?”

“Watch me lose.” He says, turning onto a main street. You furrowed your brows… that’s right… you did say that. Isagi stops at a red light, looking over at you. “Clearly… I didn’t lose.”

“That… that’s silly.” You shake your head, meeting his smirking look. “I just added that part to be a bitch, clearly.”

“Regardless of intention I don’t need to hold up my side of the deal, Y/n.”

“What? Y-you can’t just decide that! I came to the game and I stayed the whole time.” You argued back only half joking.

“Staying the entire time wasn’t a part of the deal. Now you're just adding things.” Isagi bantered as you huffed in your seat. All that prior spiraling out about love was put on hold, you had a bit of your mojo back.

“My choice words about losing was a caveat, a warning. That’s all. It wasn’t a part of the deal.”

“Ah… trying to use fancy words to confuse the jock, that’s below you.” Isagi jests, shaking his head as a bark of laughter escapes your lips. 

“I defined the word in the same sentence, Isagi.” You refuted.

“I’m sorry, this is out of your hands, Y/n. I’ve decided not to uphold my end.”

“You’re a man without honor!” You groaned, slumping in your chair. Isagi glances over at you, your eyes meet for a second before he descends into that same warm laughter like before. You watch him unashamedly, feel that same warmth bloom inside you. You can’t look away, can’t look away from his soft jawline, his bobbing adam's apple. He meets your eyes again as he pulls into your driveway, all the lights in your house are out, your home like a haunted house on the hill, no warmth. Isagi looks out at it.

“Your parents' home?” He asks in the quiet of the car.

“They’re on work trips.” You answer, he rolls his eyes back to you. You feel the weight of his stare, feel the warmth again and again and wonder if it’s going to burn you and leave scars. Would he trace your scars? You flinched at that thought. 

“When will they be back?”

“Next week sometime… I… I’m not actually sure.” You try for a lighthearted tone but your laugh falls flat as Isagi’s eyes search your face for answers you wouldn’t give willingly. 

“Y/n?” 

“Hm?” You hum and when you meet his eyes you suck in a breath at the intimateness of the moment. 

“Do you… really dislike me? Because…” Isagi asks and you hold your breath.

“Because?” You prompt. Isagi turns a bit in his seat, to face you better.

“Nagi thinks you mean it. That you hate me. That I’m… ruining my chance.”

“Your chance?” You can’t help but echo the words and watch Isagi’s face flush like back on the field as he shifts slightly uncomfortable in his seat. 

“Do I have one, Y/n? Or do you really hate me… It’s hard to tell sometimes.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You sigh, staring out at your empty house. “I know I can be mean.”

“You’re not mean, Y/n. I think you just don’t want too many people poking around your life.” Isagi points out and suddenly and dizzyingly you realize… maybe it’d be okay for Isagi to… poke around your life in his own words.

“Right,” You nod your head, tucking your hair back out of your face.

“So? Y/n do I have a chance with you? Because… I would really fucking like one.” A fierce blush spreads across your face at his words. 

“Why? Why would you want that?” You ask, insecure and shaken.

“I like you. I like talking with you. I think you're incredibly smart and driven. You’re pretty… really really pretty. And scary too.” He laughs. “Most of the guys at school are terrified of you.”

“For good reason.” You reckon, voice shaky from his confession.

“I’m glad they stay away from you. I don’t want the competition.” He says and his words pull a laugh from you as you meet his eyes again. 

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy to shy from a little competition.” You return as he shrugs.

“I said I didn’t want the competition, not that I’d shy away from you. When it comes to you I’d participate and I’d win. It’s what I do.” He smirks. You can’t help but roll your eyes. 

“What an ego.” You sigh. 

“You don’t have to answer me right now. Or ever if that’s what you decide.” He turns off the car. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.” You push open the door and he meets you around the front of his car. When you turn he stops you, a gentle hand on your forearm. You pause and he steps close to you, reaching. For a dizzying moment you think he’s going to make a move. But with a gentle hand he pulls the sides of his jacket that you're wearing together and he zips it up for you. You swallow dryly, eyes drifting shamelessly to his lips. You wanted him to kiss you. You want to kiss him. So damn badly. “My jacket looks good on you.” He smiles and you want to hit him because the flip your heart does is almost painful.

“You’re gonna freeze.” You reply.

“That’s a problem… What should I do?” He asks, a smirk on his lips. You meet his eyes. “Maybe you should share the warmth?” You think maybe you stopped breathing a while ago. 

“Maybe you should take some.” You force out. He looks in your eyes, his eyes dipping to your lips, they stay there for a few seconds.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” You reply in an instant and in another instant he’s leaning into your space, invading it with permission. One of his hands is sliding around your hip, he’s tugging you a step closer. Your hands are useless at your sides. You’ve never been kissed before. You didn’t know what to do. But Isagi made up for the lack of experience. His fingers spread apart in the small of your back as his other hand reached and softly cupped your face. He slid the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip and licked his own. You sucked in a breath. This moment all hands and shared breaths. “I don't…. Know what to do with my hands.” You whisper in the small dwindling space between your lips. He pauses, a hair's breadth away from your lips and you almost regret talking and pausing the moment. But he pulls back just a bit and he guides your cold hands with his warm hands up towards his neck. 

“Wrap your arms around me.” He speaks and his breath ghosts over your lips. Your arms wrap around his neck and he ducks down slightly, his hands slide over your hips as he doesn’t waste another second dipping his head and meeting your lips with his own. It’s a soft press at first. But that desperate hunger takes over and you're kissing as though he’d just arrived back from world war one. He’s pulling you impossibly closer; he's kissing you with a fervent need that makes you weak in the knees. He’s backing you up until the backs of your legs bump into his car and then he’s pulling you up and placing you on the hood of his car so the kiss isn’t interrupted for even a single moment. You shiver at the heightened moment, your skin hot beneath his warm jacket. “This means I have a chance, right?” He asks against your lips, eliciting a laugh as he kisses and kisses you again and again. “God… I have to get you inside.” He groans against your lips and you know he’s saying that because you're shivering from the cold. You miss the warmth of his kisses when he pulls back and pulls you from the hood of his car. “Come on.” He guides you to the front door. You fish your keys out and pause, turning back towards him. 

“You have a chance. If that wasn’t completely obvious.” You say and Isagi’s serious face softens. His hands are on you again, he’s pulling you in and you decide if thoughts of love make you spiral you’ll let this be something else. 

[heavyhitterheaux]

No Judgments

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: You and Joe do the 'We listen and don't judge' TikTok challenge 🤭

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a few gorgeous anons 💕

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

After wiping your mouth and rinsing it out with mouthwash from your sudden episode of morning sickness, you made your way back into the bedroom where your husband was still peacefully sleeping.

You attempted to climb back into the bed without waking him up, but feeling the weight shift made him flutter his eyes open. Joe had never been a really deep sleeper, but since he found out you were pregnant, usually he wakes up at the smallest noise and it left you surprised this morning when he didn’t feel you get out of bed the first time.

“Baby, you okay?” He asked as he pulled you towards him so he could wrap his arms around you and kissed the top of your head.

“Your children won't let me be great and made me throw up again.” You quietly answered and you had now grown frustrated since it seemed like the morning sickness wasn't only happening in the morning, but throughout the day.

“You want me to make you some tea?”

“Yes, please. I'm miserable.”

Joe then placed his hand on your belly and began to rub small circles on it as he noticed that your bump was actually starting to show.

“Babies, stop making mommy sick so she can sleep. Daddy’s orders.”

“Hopefully they'll listen to you because clearly they pay me no attention.”

“When they hear ‘the voice’ for the first time, they're going to be running for their lives.” Joe said, referring to the first time he heard it and made sure to stay out of your way for the rest of the day.

“I still to this day have no idea what you are talking about when you say that.”

“It's a voice you make when you get really annoyed. Ask Ja'Marr, he'll back me up.”

“I just think you two are being dramatic.”

“Says the most dramatic person in the room….”

“Husband! Take it back!”

“Nope, it's facts and I'm not going to lie to you.”

All you did was roll your eyes in response as Joe raised his eyebrows at you.

“Don't catch an attitude with me because it's something you didn't want to hear. Fix your face.”

“I'll fix mine if you let me ride yours.”

“I… These pregnancy hormones are giving me a run for my money and got me fighting for my damn life. One thing at a time and let's get your nausea under control first.”

Later on in the day, when Joe was sitting at the island in the kitchen, you went and sat next to him while setting up your phone. He quickly noticed and looked over at you.

“Whatever it is, no.”

“But baby! Pleaseeee?!”

You knew Joe hated being in front of a camera, but you loved doing TikTok challenges with him from time to time.

Sighing and finally giving in, he put his phone down to give you his undivided attention.

“Okay, what are we doing?”

“We listen and we don't judge challenge. I sent you a few so you would have an example to know what to do.”

“Only because it's you. Let's get this over with.”

“Yay! And I want you to go first.” You told him as you pressed record.

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“When I feel like I'm getting sick, I act like I'm so drained so I can't do anything so you'll baby me.” Joe was the first one up and smiled at you when he was finished.

“What the? I baby you anyway! Like 98% of the time.”

“AHT! No judging. You just take it to a different level. Moving on.”

“You are literally MY baby though. My 6’4 baby and I'm 4'11, but who's to say anything about that? I love you bad and I see you're using it to your advantage.”

“To get endless cuddles from my wife? Hell yeah I'm taking advantage of it.”

“Okay, next.”

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“So after you fall asleep since your bedtime is like 6 pm.. like a grandpa…” You started to say, but was immediately interrupted.

“9 during the season!”

“Stop interrupting me, husband! After you fall asleep, I go and buy things on your phone and make sure to delete the notifications so you don't find out.”

“BABY!”

“HEY! I BUY YOU THINGS TOO!”

“And you hide the packages too because I literally never see any of them.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

“Fine. Keep your secrets.”

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“When we were at LSU and we were just friends, I memorized your schedule and knew you had a lot of late classes and I would purposely wait for you if it was dark outside to walk you to your car to make sure you were safe. And it gave me a chance to spend more time with you.”

“So, that's why it seemed like you were always around? Aww, you love me!” You told him as you pinched his cheek.

“And don't you ever forget it.”

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“During last season when I saw you wore THOSE PANTS, yes you know the ones I'm talking about, after I specifically told you not to because they looked crazy and you wore them anyway, you kept asking if I've seen them but I hid them somewhere in our house and they have been hidden for so long that I forgot their location.”

“I LOVE THOSE PANTS, BABE!”

“THEY ARE HIDEOUS, BABY. NO!”

“I'm making it my mission later to find my pants.”

“I know Ja'Marr probably bought you those ugly ass pants.”

“AHT! You're judging!”

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“When you're mad at me, I purposely go into the cabinet and make all of the jar lids tighter so you have to come and talk to me.” Joe confessed and you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms at the same time.

“SERIOUSLY? And here I am thinking I'm a weak bitch! I can lift almost as heavy as you can! And a jar lid is what does me in?!?”

“Works every time.”

“I'm going to have to do it myself next time.”

“Like that will ever happen…” Joe said and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“Okay, so….” You started to say as you glanced at Joe and he sighed knowing that something crazy and out of pocket was about to come out of your mouth.

“Oh shit, here we go.”

“Sometimes, I purposely piss you off and I don't know that you know you do this but your voice gets deeper and it turns me on so bad. Like your voice by itself turns me on, but when you get mad, whew. Sign me up for EVERY position. It's happening now and I'm just thinking about it. Gets your girl all hot and bothered.” You quietly said as Joe stared at you since you were now squirming in your chair and trying to keep your legs as tight as possible.

“Are you seriously squirming over there? And I’m not surprised by this in the slightest. Just wait until we're finished with this, I'm about to turn you every way but loose. And hold on! I thought we were keeping this PG!?” He asked as he leaned over and kissed you.

“Don't threaten me with a good time and when are the videos we do ever PG? Especially when it's something like this? And don't get me started because I will literally rip off your clothes at this very moment.”

“Good point and see? And that's why you're pregnant now.”

“Because my husband is fine as hell and I'll fu-” Joe's eyes went wide as he promptly covered your mouth with his hand and in protest, you licked it, making him look at you dumbfounded.

“No! Do not finish that sentence. This is really about to turn into something else if you don't stop. And did you just lick my hand!?”

“I wanna lick something else too, but I'll save that for when we turn the camera off.” You tried to whisper, but failed miserably.

“BABY QUIT IT!” Joe pleaded and all you did was shrug.

“I was like this before you married me and you should have known that once this ring was on my finger, I was about to be ten times worse.”

“Hmm, that's putting it lightly.”

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“I hide some of your perfumes so that you'll only use my favorite ones that I've bought for you.”

“Babe! How many have you hidden!? And here I am thinking that I've lost them!”

“Hmm, not telling.”

“You're annoying.”

“I'm cute and you love me.”

“Survey says that both of those responses are correct.”

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“So, when you got hurt during your rookie year, I was watching the game and saw it happen and my heart immediately dropped. Because we literally had an argument hours before that game and we weren't talking and now I think back on it, I had no idea what the argument was about. But, I low-key felt that you getting hurt was somehow my fault. I remember packing my things and getting on a plane and crying the entire way there and I honestly didn't know if you wanted to see me at that point. Because I had sent you a text right before the game and you didn't respond. And to this day, I still feel like that.”

It was quiet for a few seconds before Joe said anything.

“That… baby that wasn't your fault. It was a bad hit. And of course I wanted to see you. You were actually the first person I asked for. I never knew you felt like that.”

“I hate seeing you in pain and I…. I'm about to cry again.”

“I can tell, hormones.” Joe replied as he wiped your eyes for you.

“But I came back from it because of you and how you helped me. You being there was enough. You love me bad, don't you?” He asked as he was trying to get you to smile.

“So much, and you know it.”

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“Ever since you told me you were pregnant, I watch you until you fall asleep to make sure you’re okay. Doesn't matter how long it takes or if I have to get up early. You're my priority.”

“And, I'm about to cry again. Damn these hormones.”

“You are literally MY person and I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“Ladies, get you a husband who treats you like the queen you are every day because….. shoutout to Jimmy and Robin because the two of them gave me one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

“Wait… ONE of the best things? I'm not THE best thing!?”

“Hmm, you're top five.” You replied as you shrugged.

“Uh? You mean number one?”

“If it makes you feel better, the top five things all have to do with you.”

“That sounds suspicious, but I'll let it slide for now.”

“I love you Joseph Lee Burrow!” You exclaimed as you kissed his cheek and wrapped your arms around him.

“Stop trying to change the subject and I know for a damn fact you didn't just call me by my full name. I get anxious when you do that.”

“Wait, huh?”

“We've gone over this a million times. My name is BABY to you. When it comes to you I don't know who Joseph is.”

“And he calls me the dramatic one.”

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony ch5. child's play

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, mentions of cigarettes, depression/anxiety; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ chapter. 5/x

ᰔ words. 4.8k

a/n. helloo my ihm friends! long time no see. hope you're all doing well and thank you so much to everyone who sent me kind messages about the whole ihm gojo ex wife thing haha. i really appreciate it :) i feel more confident about my writing decisions now, and that's all thanks to you guys! anyways, i will be posting shorter chapters for ihm going forward, so sorry if some chapters have slightly abrupt endings or stuff like that. i guess my goal is to post shorter chapters but more frequently! we'll see how it works out. anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter and see you at the bottom!!

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 (pending)

Ever since admitting your mother into hospice, things have been calmer inside your mind. After passing the initial wave of agony that came with no longer hearing her voice down the hall or seeing her silhouette in her bedroom as you walked past it, you realized that…a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. No longer setting alarms at the height of every other hour to remind your mother to take her medication, no longer viewing every interaction you had with her as some form of study you needed to jot down in a binder for her neurologist’s records, and no longer driving her to all of her chemotherapy appointments, only to leave them feeling like you purposefully just took your mother to a place where they sucked all the life out of her in exchange for the slim promise of giving it all back to her someday.

Maybe it was evident in the way your shoulders felt less tense as you rolled them back, tilting your neck to the side and no longer feeling the painful strain that tugs a wince onto your face. The other day, you caught yourself humming a song as you drove to work. Your skin, usually feeling cracked and dry from stress and exhaustion, now has a slight plumpness to it like before. A more youthful glow, like the version of yourself you were before your mother became sick. The version of you that so quickly deteriorated, and one you didn’t even know still existed somewhere within you. 

There has also been time for hobbies. Rarest of occasions, you find yourself sauteing some yellow and white peaches in a saucepan over medium heat in Gojo’s kitchen, humming that song once again that’s been stuck in your head. The sundress you’re wearing matches the pink of the syrup that pools at the bottom of the pan, and you feel like you’re living your cottage core dreams in this brief moment of reprieve you’ve allowed yourself to fall into.

The sound of slippers tapping down onto the hardwood floor startles you out of your gleeful trance, and you turn your neck to the right to see a pajama-clad messy-haired Gojo shuffling his feet across the open area into the kitchen with a dark black mug in his hand.

“Why aren’t you dressed??” you ask him in a panic.

“I’ll get dressed later,” he tells you dismissively as he grabs the glass pitcher of coffee from where the coffee machine was nestled up against one of the counter corners.

“You’re stressing me out. Your mom told us to be there in two hours,” you say, putting your hands on your hips in disapproval as you hear the sizzle of the peaches in the saucepan. 

He entirely ignores you, choosing to instead drag his gaze down the form of your body. “Woooow, twice this month I get to see you in a cute dress,” he comments, pouring coffee into his mug but his eyes are still on you, “lucky me.”

“Oh Shut. Up,” you sneer at him with a harsh roll of your eyes, “your fake flattery might work on the lonely middle-aged women you seduce to make a living, but it won’t work on me.”

His shoulders push back before he slumps them slightly, his brow lifting with confusion. “It’s not fake though? I mean it. You look really nice right now.”

You point an accusatory sugar-syrup coated wooden spatula at him. “You’ve just been conditioned by the patriarchy to get a boner at the sight of a woman in a kitchen.”

“What–...no–...why do you always have to say stuff like that whenever I compliment you? Can’t you just accept it?”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I refuse to be flattered by an insolent man like you.”

He sighs, setting his coffee mug down on the counter, and you watch the way the fringe of his hair hangs over his forehead as he gazes into the contents, swirling it around with a loose grip on the handle. “Is this how it’s going to be everyday? I try to be nice, and you–...well, you know, are you.”

“Well who else should I be?”

His eyes lift up to meet yours, the slightest of a cheeky grin on his face as his eyes wander down the form of you again. “I don’t know. Someone a little…softer? Like, you’ve got this really pretty dress on, and then you’re telling me off about patriarchy-induced boners. It’s a little, uh, contradictory?”

You gasp. “You’re trying to control me. I knew it. You are poisoned by the patriarchy.”

“What?”

Your eyes narrow at him. “You have this image of a perfect and cute little wife, who’s gonna wear pretty dresses all the time, and bake stuff in the kitchen, and get all blushy when you tell her she looks beautiful, and you expect her to have this soft little personality that never argues with you or disagrees with you…ALL BECAUSE OF THE PATRIARCHY!!!”

“...I–...Okay, you’ve lost me.”

You let out a hmph! noise. “Can’t even discern his own brainwashing. Sad.”

“All of this just because I tried to tell you that you look nice?”

“I know what your ulterior motives are, you creep.”

His eyes spark a little at that, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a cheeky grin as he sets the coffee mug down onto the marble counter and he straightens his spine. You blink, watching with confusion as he crosses the distance between the two of you, to where you’re taking a small few steps backwards until your lower back presses against the edge of the island countertop. He cages you into the surface with his frame, followed by the palms of his hands sliding over the marble on both sides of you, and you feel his forearms press against the curve of your waist as he traps you in with no way out.

“S-Satoru,” you stutter, looking up at him with wide eyes, “what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” he says, his voice deeper with a nonchalance that has you shiver, his gaze dropping to your lips when you part them slightly.

“T-The patriar–” you squeak out, but he suddenly dips his head down to kiss you.

Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes immediately closing when he moves his lips against yours, one of his strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer to him and your hesitation is something that only lasts a brief second before you find yourself kissing him back. Some noise leaves his throat, deep and raw and sounding pleasantly surprised as he captures your lips more fervidly now, his hands smoothing down to hold your hips and his teeth slightly nip at your bottom lip. 

You grab a fistful of his shirt, unsure of whether you want to pull him closer to you or push him away, but the moan that you mumble against his lips only makes his grip on your hips even stronger, fingers digging into the softness through the thin fabric of your dress. 

The oven suddenly starts beeping, startling you and you pull away from the kiss with a gasp, eyes rounded as you look up at him, but his are lidded and dilated as his gaze remains glued to your lips. 

With a heaving chest, you try to push him away by a weak fist to his sternum but he’s unrelenting.

“You taste sweet,” he says, like some comment he noted in his head but accidentally voiced out loud.

“I–...” you inhale sharply, “I just ate three macerated peaches.”

“Uh-huh,” he barely acknowledges before leaning in to get another taste, but you push him away harsher this time.

His hands let go of your hips entirely, finally breaking out of that kiss-induced trance he was in, but he still remains close to you in proximity, so much so to where you can feel the heat from his body. It’s comforting almost, radiating through the soft cotton of his long sleeve shirt, and you find yourself subconsciously leaning towards him before you snap out of it too, and rock your weight back against the island countertop.

You cross your arms over your chest, hoping the flush to your cheeks isn’t showing. “Oh okay so we just casually kiss now?”

He shoves his hands into his plaid pajama pant pockets, leaning away from you slightly. “For as long as I can get away with it, yeah.”

“You are breaking the rules.”

“You never said no kissing.”

“I said no touching.”

“Ehhh kissing isn’t really touching, though, is it?”

“You sound stupid.”

“I always sound stupid to you.”

The oven starts beeping again, and you realize it’s long been preheated to the setting you had placed earlier. You slip away from him with haste, feeling his gaze on you as you press a button on the oven to turn the alarm off, and you stare at the handle for a moment or two to calm the beating of your heart down. 

Your eyes catch sight of something on the side of the fridge. A little magnet made of rubber that has the word London on it as well as the design of the Westminster Cathedral with golden accents. You recall that Gojo went on a trip to London recently, and that he didn’t bring you back any souvenirs from there like he did for your other neighbors. And you want to pretend, you want to shove it down, that incessantly childish feeling that wonders why he didn’t bring you anything back. You want to continue to pretend like it doesn’t hurt your feelings. Something so miniscule and small. But you–...well, you can’t.

You spin around to face him. “Do you hate me?” you bluntly ask.

He blinks at you. “Huh?”

“Do you, what, I don’t know, think I’m annoying or something?”

He shrugs with his hands still in his pockets. “I mean, yeah, I do think you’re annoying sometimes. But in a silly way. Like we’re just pals horsin’ around, y’know?”

You snarl at him, putting your hands on your hips and narrowing your gaze until he’s hardly even visible anymore. “No. I actually find you annoying. Like, wanna-run-you-over-with-a-bus annoying. You just have horrendous social awareness and think that everyone loves you.”

“You actually don’t like me?” he asks, like he can’t even believe that someone wouldn’t.

“Yes,” you say, “now get out of my way.” You make an attempt to push past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder into him to assert dominance but he is unfortunately much bigger than you and so all it does is make you stumble ungracefully from the recoil.

He quickly grabs your arm to steady you, and you glare up at him before yanking yourself away and then step backwards until your back hits the fridge.

He studies your demeanor for a second before taking a deep inhale, and then lets it all go in a heaving sigh. “What do I have to do to get you to lighten up a bit?” he asks.

“You really want to know?” you sneer at him.

“Yes,” he says with a slight hint of frustration in his tone.

You cross your arms. “Pay for the fucking fence.”

He blinks at you, confusion replacing whatever frustration was previously decorating his tone. “What?”

“The fence,” you reiterate with a step forwards towards him, “the one I built six months ago. The one where you laughed in my face when I told you to help pay for it.”

He leans forward. “Yeah. Because I never wanted that fence built. Like I said, it fucked up the roots on my avocado tree. You should’ve asked me before building it. In fact, it’s illegal to build a fence without joint consent of both neighboring property owne–”

“Oh my god, okay, see? This is why I can’t stand you,” you snarl at him and make another move to get past him but he easily steps in front of you to keep you from going anywhere.

With a sigh, he relents. “Fine, I’ll pay for the fence.”

You try to keep the twitching muscles of your face still as you resolutely stare up at him, pressing your lips into a thin line. Through a strained tone, you say, “No. I don’t want you to pay for it anymore.”

He lifts a brow, utterly bewildered at this point. “Huh?”

“Now it just feels like pity. And I don’t want your pity money.”

“Two seconds ago, you did.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. That was two seconds ago.”

“So…let me get this straight, you don’t want me to pitch in?”

“No. I want you to have wanted to pitch in SIX MONTHS AGO.”

“Okay but what the fuck am I supposed to do about that now?”

“NOTHING!!!” you finally snap at him, the shrill to your voice startling him slightly to where you see his shoulders jump, and his eyes are now rounded blue as he looks at you. “There’s nothing you can do about it, there’s nothing you can do to get me to ‘lighten up’ or ‘act softer’ or whatever the fuck kind of damage control you aim to achieve with me due to your pestering incessant need to be liked by every fucking person you come across. So just deal with the fact that I hate you and let me do it in peace.”

He’s silent for what feels like a long time as he blinks at you, his bottom lip pushing up slightly in a way that suggests he’s almost impressed by your little outburst, then he takes a step forward, and in that one large stride, he’s closed any distance between the two of you. Your back is up against the frigid steel of the fridge, your heels tucked under the warm rubber at the foot of it, and you’re looking up at Gojo as he towers over you, his hands still annoyingly and relaxedly shoved into his pockets.

“Do you think it’s gonna be a problem that I think you’re kinda hot when you’re mad?” he asks you.

A small puff of air leaves your lips, like you just can’t believe the audacity, but also having him this close to you suddenly made it a little harder to breathe. “C–...Can you just be fucking serious for one second?”

His head dips down, the fringe of his hair tickling your forehead, tip of his nose slightly brushing against yours, but his gaze never falls to your lips. “You think I’m not being stupid fuckin’ serious when I say that you’re hot?”

“S–” your breath hitches in your throat, and his gaze finally falls to the lick you pass over your lips, “Satoru–”

Like God himself answered to your (cognitively dissonant) prayers, the bell rings, and Gojo leans himself away from you, straightening his spine so he can glance over his shoulder towards the door, a slight look of irritation on his face through the furrow of his brow.

You blink up at him. “A–...Are you expecting someone?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “No. Don’t think so.” He sighs before shuffling around the kitchen island and across the dining hall towards the entryway of the house, and you peer at the sight from across the hall.

When he opens the door, you see Sana standing outside, dressed in mom jeans and a t-shirt with her black Coach purse slung around her shoulder, arms crossed, and you barely register the fact that she looks pissed.

“Sana?” Gojo says, “what’s up.”

She entirely ignores him when she catches sight of you, pushing right past him and into the family room that you were currently finding solace in.

“You,” she points at you, storming right up to your personal space, “what the hell did you say to Juno when you were babysitting her?!”

“H-Huh??” you squeak out, taking a step backwards. “What are you talking about?”

“You told her to fight kids at school?!” she snarls at you, and your eyes widen.

“What?” you say, your face twisting with confusion, “I–...I never said that. I just said that she should stand up for herself if she needs to.”

Sana inhales deeply with rage, leaning back and jutting her hip out as she crosses her arms again. “Yeah, well, I had to pick her up early from school today because the principal called and told me she shoved a little girl on the playground during recess, and now she’s facing suspension.”

Gojo approaches suddenly from your periphery, standing in front of you as he faces Sana. You stand on your tiptoes to peer at her over his shoulder. “What? Why would Juno do something like that?

You hear Sana start to tap her foot impatiently against the hardwood floor, and then she turns her head away from Gojo as a slight hmph! noise leaves her throat. “The why is irrelevant.”

You poke your head out from behind Gojo and glare at her, but then Gojo turns around suddenly to look at you.

“y/n,” he says, “what’s going on?”

“I–” you start, glancing at Sana again who now has a solemn look on her face with pursed lips. You glance back at Gojo, who’s looking at you with confusion and anticipation. A heat spreads down your neck from the attention of the both of them on you, and you’re not sure what the smart thing to say is, so you figure you’ll just tell the truth as it is. “...I just didn’t want her getting bullied and thinking she can’t stick up for herself.”

At that, you see Gojo’s shoulders stiffen. “Bullied?” he repeats after you, then quickly turns towards Sana, “what does she mean, bullied? Juno’s getting bullied at school?”

Sana faces him full-on, raising a stern pointed finger between the two of them “No. Satoru. Stop. You always do this. This has nothing to do with you, so don’t even start. It’s not a big deal, let’s not make it one.”

“The fuck do you mean it’s not a big deal? She’s getting bullied at school, and you want her to just suck it up?” he asks, venom dripping from his tone. 

“It’s for her benefit!” Sana exclaims. “Jun and I have spent months trying to get her into this school! We don’t want her getting kicked out.”

“Y’know, I’m–” you stutter, “I’m gonna–...I’m just gonna go upstairs,” you say, “this seems like a family matter. I think you guys should probably just settle this on your ow–”

“No,” Gojo says, pointing to the couch that you were standing in front of, “sit down.”

You sit.

Gojo turns to face Sana again, and although you can’t see his face, you imagine he’s pissed off from the way Sana’s shoulders drop slightly and her sharp expression is cut into a more sheepish one.

“Who cares if Juno is suspended for sticking up for herself? It’s the teachers’ fault for not making sure she’s safe,” he says.

“Shoving other kids is not the solution.”

“Well if you fuck around, then you find out. Kids are too soft these days.”

“This is not the 90s, Satoru.”

You watch the back and forth between the two of them for the better part of an entire minute, feeling uneasy in the hostile environment of the room, but there’s a sense of underlying familiarity between the two, one that is recognizable amongst family. And you feel rather foreign, but then remember that, technically speaking, now that you’re married to Gojo, this is your family too.

Amongst the arguing of the adults, none of you noticed that Juno had gotten out of the car in the driveway and was now standing in the doorframe of the front entrance. She looks scared and guilty, fidgeting with her fingers in front of her, and you notice her scrapes and bruises that you tended to last week were now mostly healed. 

Gojo catches sight of her, and you see his shoulders relax. “Juno, c’mere.”

With the permission, she instantly runs towards him and into his arms from where he was crouched down to the floor in order to welcome her, and then she starts sobbing.

“I’m–hic,” she cries, “I’m so–hic–I’m so sowwyyy Uncle Toru…I’m–hic–I’m sorry mommyyyy.” 

You see Sana sigh and she makes a move to brush Juno’s tear-dampened hair out of her face when Gojo pulls her away from his shoulder by a delicate hold of her bony little shoulders.

“Juno. Listen. If people are being mean to you, then you do exactly as your auntie y/n said. You stand up for yourself. And if that doesn’t work, then you cuss at them and threaten to shove their faces into the dirt until they run away with their tails between their legs. Do you understand me?” Gojo tells her.

Sana gives you a pointed look.

“Oh, I–” you put your hands up in front of you, “I didn’t say any of that last part.”

“Do you understand me?” Gojo repeats again, and Juno nods her head slowly before she falls back into him and soaks his shirt with tears. “I’m soowwwwwyyyyyy.”

Gojo pats her back a few times to comfort her, and your heart breaks for the little girl. It’s bad enough to be bullied at school, but then to be reprimanded by your mother the one time you stand up for yourself…you can imagine how emotionally exhausting that would be for a five-year-old. 

Juno sniffles, rubbing her snot all over the cotton of Gojo’s shirt, and then pulls her face away to rub at her eye with a weakly closed fist. “I–hic–I just…I just wanted him to feel–hic–the same hurt.”

“Huh? Who?” Gojo asks.

“The boy,” Juno says, “the one that shoved me today.”

“It was a boy?!?!?!” Gojo yells. “Alright. That’s it. I’m grabbing my bat.”

“Satoru.” Sana deadpans.

Sana and Gojo continue to bicker about the ethics of threatening five-year-old boys with baseball bats, going back and forth about how Gojo wasn’t actually going to do anything but just wanted to instill fear (he’s lying), while Sana isn’t exactly sold on a single pacifist thing that he says, and you sigh, because you realize you’ve become invested in one of, what you feel like will become many, of their family quarrels.

Juno sneaks around Gojo’s legs and comes up to you while the arguing is taking place in the background, and she gently taps your knee as you’re seated on the couch. “Auntie y/n,” she whispers.

You rub an eye crustie from her face and then hold her hand in yours. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Mm? For what?”

She smiles at you, her cheeks pink and flush from crying but rounded now in glee. “My mommy and daddy spoke a lot today at home for first time in long time because of me. Because I listen’ded to you. Thank you.”

Your eyes narrow. “What do you mean by that, sweetheart?”

Why wouldn’t Sana and Jun be on normal talking terms? What does Juno mean that it’s been a long time? What exactly was going on at home?

“Juno,” Sana’s voice interrupts your thoughts, her arms crossed across her chest, “c’mon. Let’s go.” She points a stern finger at Gojo. “Seriously. I mean it. No baseball bats or rodent traps involved. I’ll talk to the teachers and sort something out.” She glances at you, that strict look on her face now dissolving into one of pure exhaustion. One you can imagine only a mother can face. “See you later at dinner, you two.”

Juno runs up to her mom and grabs onto her outreached hand, and you see Gojo ruffle her hair as she walks past him, her giggles ringing in the air, and then he sees them out the door. 

The air is awkward, at least to you, the second he closes the door, and when he turns around to face you, your body stiffens up.

He leans back onto the front door, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thanks,” he says, “for telling Juno to stick up for herself.”

You blink at him. “Well. I don’t feel too great about it at the moment, to be honest.”

He sighs. “I just think that Jun and Sana are raising her to be…kinda meek. I wish they’d teach her to be more confident and take up space.”

“Mhm,” you nod. Because you agree. Little girls need to learn how to be that way at a young age, because the world is seldom very kind to them.

“Well, what you said to her is what I would’ve said to her anyways,” he says.

You roll your eyes, standing up from the couch and heading back into the kitchen to presume your work on your peach cobbler. “I never told her to shove kids’ faces into the dirt. But, uh, sure, I guess so.”

You see Gojo enter the kitchen too in your periphery, but you don’t give him any glance or look or attention. From what you can see as you stir around your macerated peaches in a Pyrex bowl, he’s leaning against the island counter about three feet away from you, his hands shoved in his pockets, and he’s watching you. A slight warmth radiates in your cheeks, but you attempt to ignore the nerves by being hypnotized by the pink syrup that pools at the bottom of the bowl.

My mommy and daddy spoke a lot today at home for first time in long time because of me. Because I listen’ded to you. Thank you.

An unsettling feeling takes over your senses. It could be the past few years you’ve spent walking on eggshells around your mother, or the way you’ve become so keen to her energy as a way of staying on top of any shift in her symptoms, any single sign of disease progression, any clue that she wasn’t getting better. Any clue that she wasn’t doing okay. And you feel a sense of dread, because that skill, you realize, has now made you aware of similar circumstances in the people around you.

Not to mention, you are a child of divorce. You know what that fear feels like.

You just want to know if Juno feels safe at home.

“Hey, um…” you start, turning slightly to finally face Gojo, your eyes hesitantly flickering up to meet his gaze, “when was the last time you saw your brother-in-law? And with Sana?”

He raises a brow at you. “I just saw them last weekend for one of Juno’s dance recitals.”

“Ah…I see,” you say. You purse your lips together. 

Right. Kids say things all the time. They believe in Santa Claus and think that blueberry pancakes are called blubbery pancakes. And they sometimes read too into things, and they sometimes read too little. Surely, things must be okay. Maybe Sana and Jun had had a little argument with some stubbornly thawing cold shoulders, a demeanor that was noticed by their child, and now things have resumed to normal. That was normal. Part of every family. “That’s good to know…” 

You turn away from Gojo to stare back down into the bowl of macerated peaches again. With a furrowed brow, you close your eyes tightly to try to shake the chilly feeling in your bones, and you feel better when you open them again. The slightly numb sensation in your hand dissipates and you have enough dexterity to mix the peaches around in the bowl.

“I wonder what news they want to share with us over dinner,” you say, to quell the awkward silence.

“Hm?” Gojo hums, and you see him turn around face the counter now, hovering over the bowl of raw crumble topping you had mixed together, prodding at it with the wooden spoon. “Oh, they’re moving.”

Your head snaps to look at him. “W-What?”

“Yeah,” he nonchalantly affirms, scooping up a spoonful of the crumble. “They wanted to up-size, and move a little closer to the school that Juno’s at. I found them a nice place about an hour from here on the outskirts of the city. They just signed the papers a couple weeks ago.” And then he shoves the spoon into his mouth.

“Oh…wow,” you say. “Okay…”

“Damn,” Gojo says with surprise laced in his tone, "this is really good.” He’s staring into the bowl in awe and then scoops up some more crumble with a spoon.

You blink at him, irritated that he’s eating all your ingredients without even asking, and before you’ve even finished your dessert. It’s like he was born to piss you off.

You walk up to him and yank the bowl away, “Gimme that.” Then you pull it into the divot of your waist possessively and glare at him. 

He sighs, and then says something out loud that you’re sure he meant to keep in his head:

“I’ll get used to it.”

.

.

.

[end of chapter 5]

a/n. it feels so strange to post such a short chapter bahaha hopefully the ending isn't too abrupt. but hope you enjoyed! i'm so sorry ab the slow burn in this series aaa but i can try to assure you that it'll all be worth it hopefully lol i'm really excited for what i have planned for this series!! alsooo sorry if there are errors or anything, i'm trying to spend less time editing since it really stalls me n leads to writer's block lol. hope to see you in the next one :) much love! - ellie

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[nightguide]

upon all honesty there is a point in being a woman that you're wanted for

upon all honesty, death is intermittent for you to believe than to trust

upon all honesty, speech is slurred to truance and no reason for escape than despair believing in you and patience seeking asylum elsewhere

death is nothing more than hope than what you will lose

a song you believe you wrote but honest complaint is you believing in it too much (hopeless vocalist)

feet aid you that assists with passion than dream which is a broken phone in the end like you being a human wifi tower

broken appeal to the senses than the eye which morphs with you overtime like a nymph on a parasitic run outside elsewhere in a sea you're making home to land which infects the sun's UV rays on your eyes that blind your skin from drying which was the worldly belief

lost of hearing, seeing and smell which is more prominent than the 5 senses you're used to hearing and the 6th sense being the sun which is optimal to your personality check if maintained in being stranded on the city wide perspective of your rebirth like stardust forming you back together lost and reformed again which is how familliarity is formed upon worldly recognition is how you lost compassion over a universe city alike you is how you died in the first place became an idiocracy

your soul is in despair as you became but your body is your spouse warring the world for you believed you in any accuracy formed you were before you is how you were meant to die in actual reality like you passed away like you were by ocular avenue is you being used by the motive surpassing the obvious morale token by the social circus

you're orphaned out of pure glee and not reason is how 'never' is damned of you to exist than looking at the mirror and 'being okay' is nothing to you anymore is how you're not taken into pride but by death only to consume old age wisdom for 'pity living' is rage turned into obsolete absolution of Zoroastrianism which is a belief of a curse against a pious name that needs to 'be resolved of your deadly crimes against a 5 year old inside a man who cannot take being 'lonely' like his mother abandoned him' a child created a religion to see the world but never allowed it right back is a city in the Qur'anic view that is taken to hold by a mom-ster hungry reptilians if all conspiracy theories were in one child, it would be that and you knew who made it up who lived long enough to see it come to life which is the social honest buddha who died long enough for the first man to live which is you but you're dead anyway, so you're seeing a live action effect of your life being torn apart like the one moment of you is being dead is your canon fairytale that takes place a while into your ego bruise becomes comic fiction which is how you chose to die by a problematic scandal in which you never resurfaced from is your whole career is how people tear lives apart to bite back for the existence of the meaning of why you love your job so you knew who went first (after me)

there is no saving you but yourself (ill will)

there is no

there is nothing

true selves

characters in motion in which you cannot talk about but observe

you're in pity quiet in which the obvious will hate but you're told their story inwards out (at the end of your ancestry is your story told there but you'll never get the point til damned quiet times makes you the next soul to go upending their own childhoods but you knew who destroyed their lives early on to witness the world burn in front of your own, so say goodbye to the ones you hate that believed you now that you're never going to outgrow them but die another day to see 'them' live

you'll never be removed from their energetic terrarium even if you live long enough to see yourself die with them which is what they truly wanted

heck, they'll take your identity with it

and they'll leave you naked, cold and alone til they see that as a fantasy and kill you with it is how you were born, a baby.

you'll know why you're meant to die but they'll live long enough to see you be and they are and why you immortally hated them with so much you never gave them is damnation realisation is how you were meant to tell the story in lights since you spent so much time in darkness

SO YOU MEAN TO TELL ME HE WAS HIDING ALL THIS UNDER THAT JEAN JACKET AT THE CONVENTION MATT SMITH PLS LEAVE THE JACKET AT HOME WHEN YOU COME TO MEGACON.🧎🏻‍♀️ I am simply GAGGED

[qrrieterisunnq]

Hands Full of Flour

FT. BROCK BOESER AND KITCHEN SEX MINORS DNI - 18+ content below the cut — WARNINGS: sex scenes (please keep it safe guys!) — SUMMARY: Brock and his pregnant partner share a playful and passionate evening in their kitchen, blending love, laughter, and desire. Amid tender moments and teasing banter, their connection deepens, reaffirming the strength of their bond. — WORD COUNT: 3,74K

A sweet scent flows through the hallway of Brock’s apartment building as he slowly reaches the door to his. He smiles slightly at the knowledge that you are baking this food with this delicious smell.

Pulling his keys out of his jacket he unlocked the door and grins widely when he hears you singing. He quietly closes the door and lets go of the bag in his hand.

Softly he walks into the kitchen chuckling softly at the sight of your swaying hips.

Brock can say you are in a different world by the way you softly sing and dance around the kitchen. He walks up to you and carefully wraps his hands around your hips. A loud shriek comes from your lips as if you had no idea someone was there with you.

“Fucking shit!” you breathe out, your hand resting on your cheat while you lean in Brock’s chest.

“Sorry baby.” He laughs, nuzzling his nose in the crock of your neck, planting soft kisses there.

“You want me to deliver earlier?!” you look at him with a shake of your head, your hands sliding down to your thirty-week-old belly, that holds your baby boy.

“I’m sorry love.” he giggles moving his hands under your belly and lifting it to reveal some weight from your back.

“Forgiven,” you murmured leaning your weight into Brock's muscular body. “Keep holding please.” you sigh in relief.

“I will. What are you cooking?” Brock murmurs in your ear kissing the side of your head.

“I made lasagna for you and now I’m trying to make some cookies, but it's harder to focus with this little one kicking me non-stop," you chuckle softly, resting your hands on top of Brock's as he cradles your belly. 

Brock grins and presses another kiss to your temple. "He’s probably just excited about the lasagna. I know I am." 

You roll your eyes playfully, but a smile tugs at your lips. "You’re worse than him sometimes, you know that?" 

"I’ll take that as a compliment," Brock teases, swaying with you gently, his strong arms still supporting your belly. "But seriously, you’ve been on your feet too long. Why don’t you sit down for a bit? I’ll finish the cookies." 

"You? Baking?" You raise an eyebrow and glance up at him, amused. "Last time you tried, we almost set off the smoke alarm." 

"Hey, I’ve improved," he says with mock indignation. "Besides, I have a great teacher." 

You laugh softly and let him guide you to a chair by the kitchen table. "Alright, but if you burn these, you're eating them anyway." 

Brock chuckles as he ties an apron around his waist. "Deal. Now, just sit back, relax, and watch me prove I’m more than just a lasagna enthusiast." 

As you sit there, watching him clumsily measure ingredients and fumble with the mixer, you can’t help but feel a swell of love for the man who’s doing everything he can to make your life easier, even if it means battling cookie dough. 

"Hey, don’t look at me like that," Brock says, catching your gaze and grinning. 

"Like what?" 

"Like I’m the luckiest guy in the world. Because I already know I am." 

Your heart melts as you reach for his hand, pulling him close for a quick kiss. "You are. But don’t let the cookies burn, lucky guy." 

With a laugh, Brock turns back to the dough, and you sit back, content, as the sweet scent of your shared love fills the kitchen.

As Brock fusses over the cookie dough, you lean back in the chair, resting a hand on your belly. The rhythmic movements of his hands as he stirs the mixture are oddly calming, even if he’s doing it all wrong.

"You know, you’re supposed to fold the flour in gently, not attack it like a whisk is your enemy," you tease, watching him struggle to keep the mixture from flying out of the bowl.

"Hey, I’m just adding a little flair. This is a performance, not just baking," Brock says with mock seriousness, spinning the whisk dramatically before setting it down.

You laugh, shaking your head. "The performance might need a little work, chef."

Brock flashes a grin. "Noted. But just wait—these cookies are going to blow your mind."

As he continues his chaotic masterpiece, you feel a sharp kick from your belly, and you can’t help but wince slightly. Brock notices immediately and stops mid-motion.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face as he crosses the kitchen to kneel beside you.

"Yeah, I’m fine," you reassure him, though your hand remains on your belly. "Your son is just very... energetic today."

Brock gently places a hand beside yours, his touch soothing. "Hey, little man," he says softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your belly. "Go easy on your mom, alright? She’s doing all the hard work here."

You smile at the sight, your heart swelling. "He probably gets it from you, you know. That energy."

Brock looks up, mock-offended. "Me? I’m the picture of calm and control."

You both burst out laughing, the sound filling the kitchen and mingling with the warm scents of lasagna and cookie dough.

"Alright, alright," Brock says, standing back up. "I’ll finish these cookies, and then we’ll eat like kings. Sounds good?"

You nod, resting your head back. "Sounds perfect. Just try not to burn anything."

"I make no promises," he teases, returning to his chaotic baking.

As you watch him, you can’t help but think how lucky you are. It’s not just about the little things he does—it’s the way he loves you and your growing family with his whole heart. In this moment, with laughter and sweetness filling the air, everything feels exactly as it should.

Brock finishes scooping the last bit of cookie dough onto the tray, looking rather proud of himself. "Not bad, huh?" he asks, holding the tray up for your inspection.

You smirk, tilting your head. "Not bad... for someone who almost mixed half the flour onto the counter."

"Hey, a little mess never hurt anyone," he retorts, sliding the tray into the oven. He turns back toward you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "But you know what does hurt?"

"What?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"The fact that you’ve been stealing my attention all evening," he murmurs, his voice dropping into a low, playful tone.

You roll your eyes, laughing softly. "Brock, I was baking. Not seducing you."

"Well, you’ve succeeded at both," he says, stepping closer, his hands finding your hips. He kneels in front of you again, his gaze locking with yours as his fingers gently massage the curve of your sides. "You’re stunning, you know that?"

Your cheeks flush under his heated gaze. "Brock, I’m thirty weeks pregnant. I feel like a waddling penguin."

"You feel like my goddess," he counters, his voice husky. His hands slide under your shirt, gently caressing the soft skin of your belly. "And you’re carrying our baby. That makes you the sexiest woman alive to me."

Your breath catches as he leans in, pressing a slow, reverent kiss just above your belly button. His hands stroke your sides, his touch careful and loving, but there’s a growing intensity in his movements.

"Brock," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly as his lips trail upward, over the curve of your belly and to the swell of your chest.

"Tell me if I should stop," he murmurs against your skin, his lips brushing your collarbone now.

Your fingers weave into his hair, tugging gently. "Don’t stop," you say softly, your voice barely audible but full of meaning.

He grins against your skin, rising to his feet and scooping you into his arms with surprising ease. "Let me take care of you, love," he whispers, his lips finding yours in a deep, passionate kiss.

He carries you to the counter, setting you down gently. His hands cradle your face as he continues kissing you, his touch both worshipful and commanding. You feel the heat building between you, the world outside the kitchen fading away as Brock’s love and desire for you become the only thing you’re aware of.

His kisses trail back to your neck as his hands work to unbutton your shirt, revealing more of your skin to his touch. His movements are deliberate, his focus entirely on you, making you feel beautiful, cherished, and desired despite your protests about your changing body.

"Brock," you murmur again, your voice filled with both need and affection.

"Shh, I’ve got you," he replies, his voice a promise as his hands and lips continue their exploration.

Brock’s lips leave a heated trail down your neck as his hands glide beneath your shirt, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin along your ribs. His touch is slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring every inch of you.

"You’re so damn beautiful," he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and rough with desire.

Your breath hitches as his hands shift lower, cupping your hips firmly. His body presses closer to yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. "Brock," you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes filled with hunger and love. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asks, his hands sliding over your thighs, parting them slightly as he steps between them.

You bite your lip, the teasing edge in his voice making your body heat up. "Maybe," you reply, tilting your head coyly, "but I wouldn’t mind a demonstration."

His lips crash into yours, all restraint gone as he claims your mouth with an intensity that leaves you breathless. His hands grip your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter until there’s no space left between your bodies.

"You drive me insane," he growls against your lips, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he kisses you deeply again. His hands slide up your back, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside without breaking the kiss.

You shiver at the cool air against your skin, but the warmth of his touch quickly follows. His palms cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks through the thin fabric of your bra, sending sparks of pleasure through you.

"Sensitive?" he asks softly, his lips curling into a smirk as he watches your reaction.

You nod, your voice caught in your throat as his lips trail downward, peppering kisses along your collarbone and over the swell of your chest. "Good," he murmurs, his voice dripping with desire.

With one hand, he unclasps your bra, letting it fall away, and takes a moment to admire you. "You’re breathtaking," he whispers before lowering his head, his mouth capturing one of your nipples, his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin while his hand teases the other.

Your fingers grip the edge of the counter as a soft moan escapes your lips. Brock’s free hand slides down your body, caressing the curve of your belly with a reverence that makes your heart ache with love even as your body craves more.

His kisses trail lower, pausing to press gentle, adoring kisses over your belly. "I love you," he whispers against your skin, the intensity of his words sending a shiver down your spine.

"Brock," you gasp, your body arching toward him as his hands grip your hips again, tugging at the waistband of your leggings.

"You trust me?" he asks, his voice low and filled with promise.

"Always," you reply, your eyes locking with his.

With that, Brock kneels before you, his hands sliding your leggings down your legs, his lips never straying far from your skin. His kisses grow hungrier, his breath hot against your thighs as he pulls you closer to the edge of the counter.

The world outside the kitchen disappears as Brock’s focus is entirely on you, his touch and his mouth driving you to a level of pleasure that leaves you breathless, every ounce of tension and discomfort from the day melting away under his care.

Brock’s hands are firm yet gentle as he grips your thighs, spreading them wider to make room for himself. His mouth continues its trail of kisses, leaving you breathless as he moves closer to your most sensitive spots. Each touch sends waves of heat coursing through your body, making you forget everything but him.

“God, you taste like heaven,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as his lips brush against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His stubble grazes you lightly, a teasing sensation that leaves you trembling in anticipation.

Your fingers find their way into his hair, tugging gently as your head falls back. “Brock,” you breathe, the sound of his name leaving your lips like a prayer.

He looks up at you from his kneeling position, his dark eyes filled with adoration and lust. “I love seeing you like this,” he says, his voice low and reverent. “Completely mine.”

Before you can respond, his mouth finds its mark, and the pleasure that follows has you crying out his name. Brock doesn’t hold back, his hands gripping your hips to keep you steady as he works, his movements deliberate and skilled.

Your body arches, your hand tightening in his hair as he takes his time, savoring every reaction he pulls from you. Each moan, each shiver, only spurs him on, his own need evident in the way his fingers dig into your skin.

“Brock,” you gasp, your voice trembling as your body climbs higher and higher. “I… I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice a mixture of command and encouragement. “Let go for me, baby. I’ve got you.”

His words push you over the edge, and you fall apart in his hands, the pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Brock doesn’t stop until you’re completely undone, his kisses turning soft and soothing as he brings you down from your high.

You’re still catching your breath when he stands, his hands sliding up your body to cradle your face. His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s slow and deep, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his forehead resting against yours as he brushes a strand of hair from your face.

You nod, your cheeks flushed and your body humming. “Better than okay,” you murmur, your hands sliding down his chest.

His grin is full of pride as he kisses you again, his hands steadying you when you lean into him. “Good,” he says, his voice full of love. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

You let out a soft laugh, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “The cookies, Brock. They’ll burn.”

He smirks, his hands sliding down to grip your hips. “We’ve got time. Trust me.” Brock leans in, his lips brushing yours with a teasing softness. “You really think cookies are the priority right now?” His voice is thick with amusement and desire as his hands find their place on your hips again, pulling you flush against him.

Your laugh is breathless, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. “Well, you did promise me cookies…”

“And I delivered,” he murmurs, trailing kisses along your jawline and down your neck. “But I’ve got something even sweeter right here.”

You shiver at the feel of his breath against your skin, your fingers tangling in his hair again. “Brock, you’re impossible,” you whisper, though your body responds eagerly as his hands roam your curves.

He pulls back just enough to lock eyes with you, his gaze burning with intensity. “Only for you.”

Before you can respond, he lifts you effortlessly onto the counter, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his touch. His hands cradle your belly for a moment, his thumbs stroking the soft skin with an intimacy that sends a wave of love through you.

“I love every part of you,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe as he lowers his lips to your belly. “Both of you.”

The tenderness of his words makes your heart swell, but the way his kisses shift lower reignites the fire between you. His hands slide under your thighs, spreading them wider as his lips claim your skin.

“Brock…” Your voice trembles, and you grip the counter behind you for support as his touch becomes more insistent.

He looks up, his grin wicked. “Still worried about the cookies?”

Your laugh dissolves into a gasp as his mouth finds its mark once more, and all thoughts of burning desserts vanish completely.

Your body trembles beneath Brock's touch, still reeling from the waves of pleasure he's drawn from you. His lips trail up your neck and along your jawline as he rises to his full height, his dark eyes locked on yours.

"You’re incredible," he murmurs, his voice hoarse with both desire and affection. His large hands cradle your face for a moment, his thumbs brushing over your flushed cheeks.

You catch your breath, reaching for him, your fingers curling into his shirt and tugging him closer. "I need you, Brock," you whisper, your voice laced with urgency and longing.

His lips twitch into a smirk, his confidence returning as he pulls you into another searing kiss. This time, it’s deeper, hungrier, leaving no doubt about the fire burning between you.

Effortlessly, Brock scoops you into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carries you a few steps before pressing your back gently against the cool wall, the contrast sending a shiver through your body. His broad chest presses against you, his strength both protective and thrilling.

“Are you sure this is okay?” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours as he pauses for a moment, his hands bracing your hips.

You nod, your fingers threading through his hair. “I want this. I want you. Don’t stop.”

That’s all the reassurance he needs. He adjusts his hold, his hands gripping under your thighs to lift you higher as he positions himself. Slowly, deliberately, he pushes into you, filling you completely.

The sensation pulls a gasp from your lips, your head falling back against the wall as your body adjusts to the delicious stretch. Brock groans low in his throat, his head dipping to your shoulder as he stills for a moment, giving you both time to savor the connection.

“You feel so perfect,” he murmurs, his voice raw with awe and desire. His lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses that make your toes curl.

Your hands grip his shoulders, your nails pressing into his skin as you rock your hips against him. The movement draws a sharp inhale from Brock, his control slipping as he begins to move, his thrusts slow but deep.

The rhythm he sets is intoxicating, each motion sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You cling to him, your moans soft but urgent as you meet his movements.

“Brock,” you breathe, your voice trembling with both need and love. “Don’t stop. Please.”

He growls softly, his pace quickening, his hips rolling against yours with a precision that leaves you breathless. The wall at your back does nothing to muffle the intensity of his movements, the sheer strength of him grounding you as he drives you higher.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his hands sliding up to cradle your belly for a moment. The reverence in his touch makes your heart ache with love, even as your body burns with desire. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

You pull his face back to yours, your lips crashing together in a kiss that’s as messy as it is passionate. Your breaths mingle, the sound of your shared moans filling the space as you lose yourselves completely in each other.

The pressure inside you builds to a breaking point, and you cling to him desperately, your body trembling as you hover on the edge. “Brock,” you gasp, your voice almost breaking. “I’m so close.”

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his hands tightening on your hips as he drives into you with a newfound intensity. “Let go for me, baby. I’m right here.”

His words push you over, and the climax crashes through you like a tidal wave, leaving you crying out his name. Your body tightens around him, drawing a deep groan from his chest as he follows you over the edge, his movements growing erratic before stilling completely.

For a moment, the world seems to stand still. The only sounds are your shared breaths, heavy and uneven as you both come down from the high. Brock holds you close, his forehead resting against yours as he gently lowers you back to your feet.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his hands still steadying you as his eyes search yours.

You nod, your legs still shaky but your heart full. “Better than okay,” you murmur, your hands sliding over his chest as you lean into him.

His lips curve into a boyish grin, and he kisses you softly, his touch full of love. “Good. Because I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

The timer on the oven beeps, breaking the moment and pulling a soft laugh from you both.

“You and those cookies,” you tease, resting your head against his chest.

“Hey, I was multitasking,” he jokes, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “And for the record, I’d let them burn if it meant keeping you right here.”

You laugh, swatting his chest lightly. “Go save them. We’ve had enough heat in this kitchen for one night.”

He chuckles, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before stepping away to retrieve the tray of cookies. As he sets them on the counter, the sweet aroma fills the room, mingling with the lingering warmth between you.

You watch him with a smile, your heart full as you take in the sight of the man you love, his hair tousled and his grin contagious.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” you warn playfully. “I’m still holding you to finishing those cookies.”

He turns to you, smirking as he leans against the counter. “Oh, I’ll finish them. After round two.”

[mvrkieboo]

queen you know ily but i still want y/n to be bitter and resentful pleeeeaaaaase

One moment you were texting with Kyungsoo, the next you were lying on the floor of the apartment you shared with Yoonsu, ears ringing from how hard he had hit you on the side of your head from behind. You saw his feet appear in front of your face, then he pulled your head up by your hair, making you wince.

Shit. You didn't even hear him coming. He caught you red-handed, then—like you gave a fuck. The blackmail was gone now, there was nothing he could use to threaten you anymore.

He scrolled on your secret phone, reading the messages you exchanged with Detective Do.

"Wow, you're one disloyal bitch. You've been talking to another man behind my back." Yoonsu seethed, letting your hair go.

Your head dropped to the floor, and you could finally move freely again. As you struggled to get your bearings (why the fuck did he hit so hard this time?), Yoonsu sent a reply to Kyungsoo's text and threw the phone out of the window.

You were trying to crawl away from where he was, your head spinning too wildly to let yourself stand back up, making him scoff at the pathetic sight. He followed you closely, actually curious to where you were heading.

You were heading to the kitchen, it seemed.

"Good for you for getting rid of the blackmail, Y/N, but you do know what this means, right?" He sounded off—talking to you like you were an audience member of his own live TV show.

When you could finally stand up again, getting to your knees as you began to stand on your feet, he kicked you in the stomach. Cheap shots and low blows—Cha Yoonsu, how he has fallen so far from his fearsome status. Pathetic and cowardly was all that remained of the man who had been subjugating you through blackmail.

You had to laugh at it—how could you not? Never mind the stabbing pains in your stomach as you gurgled in laughter while writhing in pain on your back.

"Fuck—do you remember when people used to fear you, Yoonsu?" You giggled out.

That earned you a kick to your arm.

"Are you gonna talk about how much of a coward I'm now? Wanna talk about how I have no dignity left?" He hissed, crouching down next to you.

He watched you closely as you sat up.

"You know how to read minds now?" You bit out and that earned you a punch to the face.

He didn't give you a chance to recover, pulling your hair up so your face could face his. He was beyond angry, you could clearly see that, but he had always been angry. This time, he was being reckless with his anger, explosive instead of simmering. You held your cheek, the warmth of your hand easing the pain.

"Well, maybe I am a coward now, but so are you. You have always been a coward, Y/N. Sure, I pushed you to isolate yourself from your people, but it was you who still did it anyway—all because you didn't want those slutty pictures of you to spread. And you wanna make me believe you pushed them away because you were being selfless? Didn't want them to get involved in our mess? No! You were being selfish, Y/N, so stop deluding yourself that you're anything but." He tugged on your hair so your face was pulled closer to his.

Your spunky behavior from just a moment before was wiped out of you. No more gutsy comebacks, no more smart quips. No more being a smartass. When fear surfaced in your eyes, Yoonsu didn't dare to delude himself that you were getting afraid of him—he knew it was actually you fearing what was coming out his mouth.

Because both of you were taking what he was saying as the truth.

"If only you were actually brave enough in confronting your past, accept that it happened to you—but you didn't want to. You wanted to live in a fantasy land where none of it even happened in the first place, all the while whining 'You don't know what I've been through! I don't deserve this! Wah! You hurt my feelings! You don't know that the things you said just hurt me!'—GOD! Those guys were saints for putting up with you." He laughed, patting your cheek.

"You're so selfish, you fled Gangnam after that botched operation to arrest me—because you couldn't stand facing Detective Kim anymore when everyone knew that Junyoung got killed because of you. Because that idiot cared too much for a selfish, cowardly girl like you. He's probably rolling in his grave at your school's abandoned plant nursery, Y/N, because you ABANDONED HIM." You shrieked when Yoonsu began to yell at you, and it annoyed him so much, he slapped you.

"I did your brother a favor for making you isolate yourself from him. He's better off without you. A rising star like him would be better off without a dead weight. I did everyone in your life a great favor. Since you love them so much, you should be grateful to me, you selfish bitch."

He threw your head to the ground, watching you break down in tears. Since you were already in the kitchen, he headed to the counters and took out a knife.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Kyungsoo pressed on the gas, knowing the way to the apartment you shared with Yoonsu like the back of his hand—he's been prowling around the apartment for days now, of course he'd know. He cut off a Ford F150, tuning out the honk directed at him.

"Detective Do!" Taeyong let out, and Kyungsoo pressed on the gas more.

"We're running out of time, Taeyong!"

Geonwoo held his breath when a car suddenly cut him from his right, while Woojin let out a string of curses that would have his own mother petrified if she heard it. Mark and Yuno held on their seatbelts, shocked when the car almost did a break check.

"You both okay?" Woojin asked with a firm tone, Geonwoo still focusing on the road.

"Y-Yeah. What was the guy's problem?" Mark choked out.

"Who fucking knows—but don't mind it too much. We have a big celebration tonight. We're almost there anyway."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

You stared at Yoonsu bleeding out right before you, as you pressed on your own stab wound. It all happened so fast, and you wanted to yell at him, ask him why he so suddenly stabbed himself in the throat after stabbing you in the stomach.

But to watch Yoonsu bleed out while wearing Junyoung's face was a stuff of your nightmares, and Yoonsu was staring straight at you until the light in his eyes was finally snuffed out.

It felt like you were watching Junyoung himself dying in front of you.

You crawled over to his body, taking out his phone. You stared at it for a while, your hands shaking from the shock of the pain. With the amount of blood you were losing—was it gonna make a difference if you called 119 now?

Were you going to die this way?

You dialed Yuno's number, devastated when he didn't pick up after you tried three more times. So you gritted your teeth and started to put in Mark's number instead.

If you were going to die, you at least wanted to talk with your loved ones before you...go. You put the phone to your ear, tears dripping down your face, like the blood that dripped down your wound.

"Listen, Jaehyun's gonna sue you if you—" You hear Mark's heated voice, and you realise that since you were calling him using Yoonsu's phone, it was an unknown number to them. They probably assumed you were one of Jaehyun's stalkers.

"Minhyung." You slurred out.

Mark on the other end of the line froze in his steps, standing stupidly near the truck as the others were already entering the café. He pulled the phone away, but it still displayed the unknown number. Why were you calling through an unknown number? He then realised you had called him 'Minhyung' instead of 'Mark'.

"Y/N, why are you calling through this number?" Mark sighed, pinching on his temples.

"Can't find my phone. Is Yuno with you?" You slurred on your words, staring out the windows, feeling weaker by the moment. It made it sound like you were drunk, and Mark seethed at your inebriated state.

"Are you drunk? At 7 PM? Seriously?"

"Please just give the phone to Yuno, I—"

"No. If you really want to talk to him, you'd come here. No one's gonna lock you and your Junyoung out the doors, Y/N. Just show up, for fuck's sake." Mark held himself back from raising his voice, and that's when he noticed Haechan was beckoning for him to get inside the café already through the windows.

Mark held up a hand, then pointed at the phone, mouthing your name. Haechan rolled his eyes when he understood Mark was on call with you, and left him alone.

"I can't come, Minhyung, but I...I still want to congratulate him. Just please—"

"No, I don't wanna do that, Y/N! Jaehyun wants you to show up, not hear you drunkenly give out a half-assed congratulations through the phone. You'd just make him sad at his own party. If that's all, goodbye."

He dropped the call, turning off his phone and shoving it into his pocket before getting into the café.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Kyungsoo kicked on the door, but it didn't budge, so he rammed at it instead. It resulted in him falling into the apartment face first, but he got to brace the fall with his knees and hands—so he didn't faceplant into the floor this time, thank you very much. When he raised his head, he saw the blood trail in the kitchen area.

Taeyong saw it from the front entrance and he beat his partner to it as he raced into the kitchen. He felt his breath getting stuck in his throat when he saw the two bodies on the tiled kitchen floor, blood everywhere. He went straight to you while Kyungsoo from behind him went to Yoonsu as Taeyong was already checking for your pulse.

Taeyong felt your pulses, it was there, but it was weak. He took out his walkie talkie and immediately called for the ambulance.

As you were getting wheeled into the ambulance with Kyungsoo by your side, Taeyong got into the car, determined that he would be the one to inform the people you wrote out in your list. He opened his jacket, and—the list wasn't there. Feeling himself panic, he began to search the whole car, as Kyungsoo was already getting into the ambulance.

The list was gone.

The list was gone.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

You woke up to the sound of the heart monitor beeping, and you turned your head to the side to see Kyungsoo getting up from his seat to look at you more closely. You were wearing an oxygen mask and you pulled it to the side.

"Taeyong, get the doctor! Shit—keep the mask on kid. The bastard stabbed you through your lung. Do you—do you wanna say something?"

You nodded, placing the mask pressed against your cheek.

"Have you reached the people on my list?"

Kyungsoo felt his heart constrict at your question. Dumbass Taeyong—he lost the list. And even when they did retrieve your brother's address and contact information, he neither picked up his phone nor was he at the condo. He was currently unreachable—and so was your dad.

He shook his head, regret marring his expression.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but we lost your list. If you could—"

"Good."

Kyungsoo snapped his head at you, eyebrows furrowed.

"What?"

"I said good. I don't want them to be here, and I don't want you to try and reach them anymore. I'd rather be alone right now, so I would appreciate it if you kept it this way."

Kyungsoo was just about to ask you what you meant by that, but that's when Taeyong came in with the doctor and nurses. They pushed the detectives away as they checked on you, and Kyungsoo finally noticed just how empty you looked.

You looked utterly defeated.

A/N : since y'all wanted to see Y/N be bitter so much, here you go then 😒

[darlingdaisyfarm]

hi!! just wanna say you are my fav gravity falls author and im so obsessed with your fics for stan 🙏🙏 could i please have a stan x fem!reader smut where stan just REALLY likes tits. like a LOT. you have full creative freedom to go wherever you want with this idea i just wholeheartedly believe stan is a tit man <3 thank u and plz never delete this account youre the coolest 💞

Stan Pines is obsessed with you and your breasts ♡ (headcanons + blurb)

author note: hii, angel!! thank you sm for this sweet message, i'm literally melting and giggling and smiling rn!!! i can't even tell you how much this made my day, you're so kind and your words honestly mean the world to me 🤍 

i had so much fun with this idea, so here’s something for you bc ur wish is my command! i hope it’s what u expected. and thank you for supporting me! ♡

I need this grumpy old man so bad, guys send me more asks bout him also comments and/or reblogs are always appreciated, kisses u💋

nsfw, fem reader

♡ Stan is absolutely shamelessly obsessed with tits. your tits, specifically. big, small, somewhere in between, it doesn’t matter! he’s a hungry fucking man. he fucking loves breasts. worships them. adores them. can’t keep his damn eyes (or hands, or mouth) off them. “you’re gonna kill me with these things, doll, fuckin’ hell, look at ‘em.”

♡ the first time you caught him staring, you were a little shy about it, but he didn’t even try to deny it. “what? they’re right there! whaddya want me to do, not look? it’s like puttin’ a steak in front of a starving man and tellin’ him not to eat!” and you made the mistake of saying, “you could touch them if you wanted to.”

♡ because now his hands are always on you. always. you’re trying to cook? his big hands are sliding up your shirt, squeezing, kneading, thumbs brushing over your nipples, he’s testing just how fast he can make that little gasp slip from your lips. and god, all of that is being done with that smug grin on his face. “what? i’m helpin’.” sure, Stan. sure

♡ I wanna develop idea about cooking more, so: as i said, Stan can’t keep his hands off you when you’re cooking. for him it’s just an excuse to get his hands on your body. except him to come up behind you, press his broad chest into your back, let his hands rest in your waist as his lips ghost over your neck, muttering “damn, you look so pretty, baby, you sure you don’t wanna skip dinner and come straight to bed?” when he’s rubbing his growing bulge against you while you’re stirring the pot, literally humping you in the middle of the kitchen. It’s hard not to laugh at how desperate he is

♡ the type of man who’ll insist he’s innocent even when he’s shamelessly and obviously staring. you could be fully dressed, wearing the baggiest clothes known to man and this filthy old bastard is still eye-fucking you. “what? can’t help it, doll, you’re beautiful.” no shame. zero!

♡ of course Stan loves to bury his face in your chest. it’s his happy place there. his hands sliding up your sides as he presses his face between your breasts, groaning, “fuckin’ heaven, toots. yer like a damn pillow, but better, so soft, so warm.” while you let your fingers run through his hair. It’s more about being intimate and soft though

♡ “goddamn, look at these beauties. best fuckin’ view in the world, ain’t it?”

♡ he’s a sucker for leaving marks on your breasts. bite marks, hickeys, little bruises from his teeth and fingers

♡ uhh. . . hear me out, him stuffing dollar bills into your bra as a joke (or no). “figure they’re safer here than my wallet anyway.”

♡ Stan loves when you wear anything that lets him see your nipples, especially when they’re hard (from cold or because you’re horny?), he goes crazy when thin shirt or a dress hugs your body. “goddamn, sweetie, could stare at those for hours.”

♡ his guilty pleasure is watching you put lotion on after a shower. you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, smoothing the cream over your arms, shoulders and chest and that old man is drooling

♡ Stan is so domestic, he loves the way you look in the morning, your breasts barely covered by his tank top that you stole. you stretch, yawning, your nipples peeking through the thin fabric and he’s already pulling you back into bed. “don’t care what we had planned today, baby. yer stayin’ right here with me.”

♡ Stanley gets so distracted when you’re undressing in front of him. doesn’t matter if it’s casual or if you’re trying to tease him, once your top comes off, his eyes are immediately glued to you while his cock already twitching to life in his pants. “jesus christ, woman, yer tryin’ to kill me. c’mere and let me get my hands on ya.”

♡ and when he finally gets you laid out on the bed, his hands worshiping every inch of you, oh, he takes his sweet time. dragging his thumbs over the stiff peaks of your nubs, leaning down to wrap his lips around one, sucking gently before giving it a teasing bite. he’s grinning against your skin when you gasp his name, one hand slipping down to spread your thighs apart while he gets comfortable between them. “love when you make these sounds. what’d i do to deserve this, huh?”

♡ oh, his tongue too. it’s wet and warm, circling slow before he flicks the nub just to watch your back arch. his free hand squeezes your other breast, pinching and tugging lightly on the nipple. he groans from how heavenly you taste. “softest damn tits I’ve ever had my hands on. christ, baby, I love you so much.”

♡ if you let him, he’ll press his cock between your breasts, his hands squishing them together as he ruts into the softness, groaning like a goddamn mess. “fuck, baby— mhmm, your so fuckin’ soft, look at this, huh? takin’ me so good, atta girl.”

♡ more thoughts about breasts fuck. i personally think Stan would love it? because there’s something about the sight of his heavy cock sliding between your breasts, the way you press them together for him, making a perfect, soft little channel for him to fuck into like a needy old man he is. he gasps, praises you, worships you whole as he watches himself disappear between them, his tip slick and glistening with precum every time it peaks out

♡ “fuck, doll, keep squeezin’ ’em like that. jesus, yer gonna make me cum just from lookin’ at ya.” and he does, oh, he does. he spills his seed all over your chest. and when he’s finished, Stan isn’t shy about making a mess, watching his cum drip down your breasts

♡ when he’s drunk, Stan gets even more handsy than usual

♡ you get him worked up sometimes by accident. like, when you’re reaching for something high up on a shelf and your shirt rides up, giving him the perfect view of your waist, those soft curves that drive him absolutely crazy. Stan will mumble something like “god, babe—gimme a second, I gotta go fix somethin’ in the back room. . . you know how it is with my old bones.” but it’s all a damn lie because he just needs to take a breather after staring at your body for the last five minutes

♡ Stan absolutely loves when you’re riding him, leaning over with your tits pressed into his face. he doesn’t care if it’s just for a few seconds or longer, he wants to feel them on his lips. he’ll lift his head slightly to suck on your cute nipples or trail hot kisses down your cleavage, his hands gripping your ass as he pushes his hips up to meet you. “sh-shit, baby, lemme just. . .”

♡ you lean over the counter while talking to him, doesn’t matter if you’re talking about what’s for dinner or how the vending machine ate your dollar, his eyes are locked on your chest only, already undressing you in his mind. he’ll mutter something gruff like, “yeah, uh-huh”

♡ loves to make you squirm. Stan’s a teasing bastard and he knows exactly what he’s doing when he brushes his thumb over your sensitive nipple slowly, watching it pebble under his touch. “sensitive today, huh? what’s the matter, sweetheart? thought ya liked it when i played with these pretty little nubs of yours.” and then he pinches, just to hear you gasp and watch you press your thighs together 

♡ i swear, Stan will make excuses to get you on his lap, just so he can slide his hands under your clothes and play with you while you sit there all flustered, giggling silly. “ain’t no law against touchin’ my girl, is there? c’mon, lemme have my fun, been thinkin’ about these all damn day.”

♡ as I mentioned, he’s a sucker for when you’re on top, bouncing on his cock while his big hands squeeze your waist, holding you so tenderly in his arms despite how hard and rough he bucks his hips into you, his mouth is latched onto your nipples. the way your breasts move drives him insane

♡ during lazy, slow sex, Stan loves lying on his side with you pressed against him, one hand massaging your breast as he thrusts into you slowly from behind. his lips are at your ear, whispering filthy things about how soft and warm you feel

♡ but when it’s rough, he’s gripping your breasts so hard you’ll have finger-shaped bruises the next day, pinching your nipples just to watch you arch your back and tremble under him, “you like that, huh? that’s right, my good fucking girl,” and every word he says he punctuates with a thrust. “can’t get enough of me touchin’ you, can ya?”

♡ reminder: Stan doesn’t just love your breasts because they’re sexy, though, yeah, they are. he loves them because they’re yours. soft, warm, comforting, just like you. and if he can bury his face in them and forget about the rest of the world for a little while? that’s just the cherry on top! a nice bonus!

♡ bonus: little blurb 

sight of you in his suit jacket, oh god. that thing swallows you whole but it’s too big for you so it hangs off your shoulders, exposing your skin, letting him see your thighs as well. Stan’s jacket, smelling like cigars, is over you in a way that makes his throat go dry. and underneath that beautiful little bra you knew would make his head spin, it’s lace and soft cups hugging you in ways he wished his hands were right now. your cleavage drawing his attention like a magnet. no, it’s too goddamn much for Stan to handle

he’s slouched on the armchair, legs spread wide, trying to keep himself from losing control. his eyes latch onto the soft lace of your bra, the way it cups your tits just beautiful enough to tease him. he looks so needy already and you’ve barely touched him

“Jesus christ, doll.” sounds like he’s choking on his own breath. “yer doin’ this on purpose, parading around in my jacket, showin’ off these tits like some goddamn pin-up doll, huh.” his lips curl into a smirk

perfect, just exact reaction you waited. you bite your lip, stepping closer, swaying your hips for him. you play it coy, of course. shifting the jacket like it’s just slipping off, letting one strap of your bra peek out more. “what? this old thing?” you smile like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing

and then he’s got his hands on you in an instant, dragging you into his lap because he can’t stand another second of his pretty girl being out of reach. his palms feels rough as they grip your hips, tugging you down until your thighs straddle his.

“you tryin’ to kill me, toots? walkin’ around like that, wearin’ my jacket.”  

your knees settle on either side of him, and his hands waste no time sliding up your thighs, over your hips, and straight to your waist, holding you close to him because this man is always starved for physical contact. his thumbs dip under the edge of the jacket, brushing the bare skin just above your bra

“Staaanley,” you breathe, your lips hovering just above his. your hands tangling in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan.

“No, no, no, don’t you ‘stan’ me, pretty,” he mutters, and one of his hands slips behind your back to unclasp your bra with a flick of his fingers, the other cupping your breast like he’s been dying to touch you all day. “you don’t get to tease me like that, wearin’ this fuckin’ outfit, and then say my name like some innocent little thing. you know exactly what you’re doin’, don’tcha?”

his thumb brushes over your nipple and then his lips follow, placing wet and hot kisses along your breast, sucking gently before biting down to make you gasp.  

“That’s it,” he groans against your skin. “wanna hear all those pretty little sounds you make, baby. fuck, you’ve got me harder than a goddamn rock.”  

he’s saying true because you feel the evidence of that pressing against your core, even through your panties. his free hand slides between your thighs, fingers pressing against the damp fabric and you whimper when he rubs slow circles over your needy clit.  

Stan grins as he pushes the lace aside. “you’re fuckin’ soaked. all this from me touchin’ your tits? jesus, doll, yer even dirtier than i thought.”

his fingers tease your wet entrance, rubbing over your folds before dipping inside, and your head falls against his shoulder, moaning as he pumps them slow and deep.  

“C’mon, baby,” Stanley brushes his lips over your ear as he fucks you with his fingers, his other hand still kneading your breast. “tell me who you belong to. say my name, and i’ll give you everything you want. everything. I’ll fuck you so good.”

you moan his name, digging your nails into his shoulders 

“Yes, that’s it,” his hand moves faster. “gonna make you scream for me, sweetheart. make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

[casiavium]

I wrote a fanfic based on the twitter/tiktok takeover instead of working on my master's thesis, which is due in two weeks. lol.

Title: Chaos Theory

Rating: G

Pairing: Sonic the Hedgehog/Shadow the Hedgehog

Tags: Sonic, Shadow, Cream, Cheese, Slice of Life, Rivals to Lovers, Babysitting, Amusement Parks, Awkward Dates

Summary: Everything's a contest with Sonic and Shadow, even babysitting... learn to expect the unexpected.

Sonic watched the small rabbit bounce down the path, jabbering away to her friend as it floated alongside her head trying to keep up. Carnival music filled his ears, bright lights flashed from every corner, and even the threat of water rides didn't mess up his good mood.

Beside him someone who was decidedly not having as great a time finally broke his silence to complain, his rough whisper just barely heard above the roar of rollercoasters in the distance.

"So we're really doing this?"

"Well, yeah, I wasn't joking when I said I'd be great at this, and Vanilla seemed pretty happy when I offered to take her to the park. The new kiddie ride opened last week and she hasn't stopped talking about it."

"Your first instinct was that we'd be protecting milk."

"... like you've never misunderstood someone." Pouting, Sonic ignored Shadow's further jabs as they caught up with Cream at the entrance to the park. A bored teenager sat at the ticket desk, typing aimlessly on a computer as he glanced at the group.

"Entrance is free for cute couples, but the kid and the chao are going to have to pay."

"Cute couple? We're not—"

"Opposed to that!" Pushing Shadow out of the way, Sonic forked over the cash and smiled wide. Through clenched teeth he hissed, "Shut up and take the discount, tickets are expensive."

Four tickets were pushed into his hand, and the worker mumbled something he didn't quite hear. It didn't matter enough to bother him, and soon enough they were all inside the park. Spread out before them was a sticky wonderland of possibilities, kids running around screaming while tired parents followed behind. Paradise.

"Okay, Cream, what do you want to do first? Games? Rides? Ice cream? Chili dogs?"

"Can she even eat those?"

"Shadow, she's six. Of course she can eat chili dogs."

Cream thought for a moment, looking towards her chao for support. "What do you think, Cheese?"

Cheese just bobbed around saying 'chao chao', but somehow that was enough of an answer for her. "Games!"

"No problem-o, just point me to which one you want." Her tiny paw shot out towards the nearest stand, covered in stuffed animals from wall to ceiling. "Basketball? You sure? You're so..."

Short, he meant to say, but Shadow interrupted him. "Let her play the game, Sonic, what harm can it do."

"Okay, but..."

Cream had already darted off, Cheese floating after her. "Oh, that prize looks just like Cheese!"

At the basketball stand, Cream had been unsuccessful and missed each goal she needed to win a prize. The counter at the top sat at a big fat 'zero'. Her ears were dropping, and she looked very upset as she longingly stared at the largest stuffed chao Sonic had ever laid eyes on.

The guy behind the counter shrugged, tucking the money Sonic had paid for her to play into his apron. "Aw, tough luck kid. Try again next time!"

"One more game!" He had a crazy idea, but it would stop tears and save his reputation as best babysitter this side of the islands. "Shadow, distract the guard while I win this for her."

"Not very heroic of you to cheat, Sonic."

"And not very heroic to let Cream leave without a prize she really wants!" Lowering his voice, Sonic muttered, "Do this for me and I'll win you one of the keyring black and red ones."

Shadow rolled his eyes, but grabbed the nearest stuffed animal and tugged it off the wall anyway. "Hey! You! You call this a fox? I've seen roadkill that looked better than these things?"

While Shadow argued with the attendant, Sonic spin-dashed to the top and slid through the hoop. The game counted it as a score, and as Shadow kept up his distraction, Sonic racked up the points.

The timer went ding-ding-ding! again, and this time, the score was almost as high as it could go. Both feet on the ground, Sonic stood proudly as Cream jumped up and down in delight.

"What? When did you...?" The attendant looked from Sonic to Shadow to Cream with narrowed eyes, but his shoulders fell with a sigh. "I don't get paid enough to deal with this. Fine, I guess you win."

One ultra-large chao and one smaller keychain in hand, Sonic and company wandered away from the game stand with smiles on their faces (save a certain member of the group), laughing about how the rules never explicated stated you couldn't use yourself as a basketball.

"Mr. Sonic, can we go to the new merry-go-round now?"

"Sounds good! You lead the way!"

Cream had already started to run off, her outline disappearing into the crowd, when Shadow grabbed Sonic's arm and pulled him back. Holding a paper map in open in one hand, he was eyeing the park diagram with his characteristic fun-killing skepticism. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Sonic scoffed, shoving him away. Already revving up to race him after the rabbit, he shrugged, "C'mon, it's just a merry-go-round, how bad can it be?

--

"I'm not getting on that."

"Oh yes you are." Shadow grinned, swatting him in the head with his map. One long line later they had finally reached the gate keeping them from getting on the ride, and it was like walking into a nightmare. A dozen carriages lazily spun around a beautiful fountain, some shaped like swans, some cute colorful ducklings. Though they each followed along the track, nothing was connecting the carts to each other or to the ride. Instead, they were floating about two feet off the ground. And what was between the ducks and the ground?

Water.

It was a water ride.

The ride attendant pushed Cream, Cheese, and her large stuffed chao forward into a pastel pink duckling, giving the car a push.

"Hey, wait! You can't make her go by herself!"

"Two to a car." The gruff man ordered, pointing at the duckling as it drift away. "Stuffed chao counts."

Cream squealed as the duck meandered ahead, cooing at the flowered arches and hanging vines dangling over her head.

"Next."

"I'm not getting on that—!" Shadow's hand covered his mouth as he wrapped an arm around him, pushing him into a large swan.

"You're embarrassing me."

The boat rocked as he nearly fell out of it, crystal blue water on either side of snow white wings. When they lurched forward along the lazy river, he tightened his arms around the figure he was holding onto (probably the swan's neck), and squeezed his eyes shut. If he let out a terrified squeak, no one but him would know.

"Sonic, you can let go now."

"What? Oh, uh, yeah..." His arms didn't seem to work anymore, so unlatching his grip wasn't going to happen. "Hmm, I don't think so."

"Can you at least open your eyes? What's the point of babysitting if you're not even going to watch the kid."

Sonic peeked open one lid, colorful scenes of flowers and marble statues around him. The ride would have been gorgeous had it not been on a rotating river. Something Amy would have drug him on, to be honest, not something he'd have chosen, but he could understand the artistry of it all the same. Cream was laughing from the pink duckling in front of them, her ears popping into his vision from either side of the swan's neck. Which meant that...

"Crazy blue hedgehog." Shadow murmured, leaning away but not removing Sonic's arms from his person. "It's two feet of water, you're not going to drown."

"You can drown in two inches! I'm not taking any chances."

He felt the rumble in Shadow's chest as he groaned, but wasn't pushed away. Surprisingly, the steady rise and fall of his breath was calming him, and Sonic could take a moment to really appreciate the design. There were enough flowers to fill Tails' workshop, and that was only in the area he could see. Tiny statues of chaos with wings aimed bows and arrows at the riders, their smiling faces surrounded by roses and lilies in every color imaginable. Not a ride he'd have chosen by a long shot, but maybe it wasn't that bad.

The entrance gate came into view again, barely three minutes since they got on.

"Half an hour of waiting for this?"

"Too long, in my opinion," Sonic grumbled, jumping when the boat rocked in the water, "and I wouldn't call this a 'merry'-go-round."

The final archway was upon them, enough vines crossing overhead to block out the sun. The scent of the flowers was nauseatingly strong, but Shadow took in a deep breath.

"Lavender..." Reaching a hand out, he brushed against the delicate purple flowers as they passed. "Hm. Maybe it wasn't all that bad."

"And maybe the moon's made of cheese, let's get the heck off this thing." Clambering over top of him, Sonic fought his way out of the ride tooth and nail. He'd go down screaming if he had to, ready to be back on solid, dry land, and—

"Relax, you're away from the water. Can we accomplish what we came here to do and get the hell out of here?" Shadow's sudden hostility shocked him back to reality, his senses returning to him from the total shut down the water had caused.

"What?"

"Ice cream, seagulls, something about handling oddly specific situations. I'm done babysitting."

Sonic looked from Shadow to Cream, who was staring at them with her wide brown eyes. Even Cheese looked like they knew something Sonic didn't, a trickster's smile on its round blue face.

"Let's just get our ice cream and go."

"Fine, I guess?" Taking Cream's stuffed chao for her, Sonic watched as Shadow stormed ahead towards the nearest ice cream stand. Cream was halfway between the two when a group of older kids ran in front of her, not noticing the smaller kid as she was pushed out of the way. Her shout as she fell to the ground alerted Shadow, who turned around quickly enough to watch her fall.

"Chaos cont—!"

But at the same time that Shadow raised his hand to dramatically yell, Sonic had already spun forward, trying to catch Cream before she hit the ground.

"I got it!"

He did not, in fact, have it. He crashed headfirst into Shadow, who had appeared out of nowhere. Both rolled to the ground as Cream landed on her knees, crying out.

From on top of Shadow, Sonic mumbled, "Okay Mr. I-can-keep-control-of-any-situation, didn't see that one coming, did you?"

"Shut up and take care of the kid."

"Right. Uh, Cream? Are you okay?"

It was clear she wasn't, her lip trembling like she was going to cry, but she was hugging her chao as it cowered in her arms. "I'm okay, Mr. Sonic, but Cheese is scared. Can you carry them please?"

"I'm already carrying the other Cheese. Shadow, you do it."

Shoving him, Shadow tried and failed to get Sonic off him. "I didn't sign up to babysit chao. Get off me."

Sonic dug his elbow in, squirming as Shadow tried to kick him away. "Well what did you sign up for if you were just gonna be sour about it all day?"

"Not this! Now get away from—" Their positions flipped, Sonic slammed to the ground as Shadow pulled his fist back. They were at each other's throats when they heard a faint sob, twisting to see Cream wiping off her cheeks.

"Shadow, you made her cry!"

"And?"

"Shadow!"

"Stop fighting!" Tears in her eyes, Cream stomped her foot, unable to keep silent anymore. "Mr. Sonic, I wish you had taken Amy on this date!"

They immediately stopped fighting, Shadow's fist inches away from Sonic's face.

"Date!? This isn't a—"

"Oh, no, no no, Cream, we didn't mean to—"

The rabbit ran off before he could get another word in, unable to chase after her as Shadow still held him down by the throat. When he finally released him, Sonic could see Cream sitting by herself on a park bench as she rocked Cheese in her arms.

"Ugh. We screwed up."

"Yeah. We did."

The irony of the situation made him snort. "Well, guess we agree on something."

Shadow made a noncommittal grunt, but didn't argue. "We should make it up to her."

"Any ideas?"

"Do what we came here to do." Glancing at the ice cream stand, Shadow sighed again. "I don't know what she likes."

"Twelve scoop ice cream with one scoop strawberry, two scoops chocolate, one blueberry—"

"You seem to know her well." His eyes darted from the ice cream stand to the girl on the bench. "You should get the ice cream, I'll... go talk to her."

"Sounds like a plan." Sonic started to head towards the ice cream stand, but he noticed Shadow wasn't moving. "You good, man?"

No answer. Shadow squeezed the chao Sonic had given him, pretending to inspect the keychain to buy himself time. "I don't know what to say. What if... what if I make it worse?"

Jokingly, Sonic shoved Shadow with his elbow. "I would never have guessed the 'Ultimate Lifeform' would be too scared to talk to a child."

A hint of a smile ghosted his lips, barely a twitch. But Sonic saw it.

"Fine. I'll go talk to her." Yanking the stuffed animal out of his arms, Shadow shook his head. "And I'm taking the chao."

--

Sonic balanced three ice cream cones between his hands, one precariously teetering tower of flavors and two smaller ones to hold it in place. He slowly, for once, approached the bench that Cream and Shadow were sitting on, the smaller Cheese sitting on the lap of the big Cheese between them.

"So... how's it going?" He asked hopefully, not wanting to cause an already shaky situation to explode again. "Cream, I wanted to say that Shadow and I are really sorry for the way we were acting. It's never nice to fight with your friends."

"'Friends'." Shadow huffed, but Sonic glared at him before it got out of hand. He leaned down to give Cream her cone, who was still sniffly but not full-out crying anymore.

"Thank you, Mr. Sonic. Mr. Shadow was telling me how sometimes people get into fights because they don't understand how to use their words, and that it's not okay to use their fists instead."

"Oh, he was, was he?"

Shadow rolled his eyes, but Sonic could swear there was a hint of blush under his fur.

"Mhm. He said that he..." She glanced to the side, continuing at Shadow's slight nod, "he said that even though you fought, he was happy to be invited to our play-date."

"Really?"

Giggling quietly, she added, "And he was happy to be the one to go on the merry-go-round with you."

"I didn't say that." Shadow quickly interrupted, but Cream kept on giggling like she knew something they didn't.

"Thank you for the ice cream, Mr. Sonic!"

"Yeah, of course. Move over, Cheese II, let me have a seat." Shoving the stuffed animal aside, Sonic plopped down next to Shadow, grinning as he offered him the ice cream cone.

"What was that about the merry-go-round you were saying?"

"It doesn't mean anything." Swiping it from his hand, Shadow took a small lick before his face scrunched up. "Coffee... with extra beans."

"Yeah, well." Sonic shrugged, his own cone melting down his palm. "Thought I'd say thanks for helping me through the water ride. Not really a merry-go-round, but, hey, I'm all for innovation on classic designs. If there's no water involved."

"Tunnel of love."

"What?"

"It wasn't a merry-go-round." Shadow spit through gritted teeth, a crumpled up map in one hand. "Its technical name is a 'tunnel of love'."

"Oh." Cream's quiet giggle cut through the silence again, and Sonic's eyes widened. "OH. Okay, well. Yeah."

Everything from the ice cream to the chao keychain to the free tickets felt a little suffocating. Sonic looked to Shadow, who wouldn't meet his eyes, and for the first time, felt his behavior was making a lot of sense. Not necessarily in a bad way, though. If the flutter in his stomach wasn't from the fear of being clobbered if he admitted it out loud, then maybe... maybe his own behavior was making a lot of sense, too.

"Maybe this was a date."

Shadow pushed his face into his hand, and Cream couldn't hold back her laughter any longer.

"Just shut up and eat your ice cream before a rogue seagull gets it."

[zigrethsnotebook]

How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?

Ford x Reader

words: 3,154

tags: sfw, hurt and comfort

a/n: this was the only note i made for myself before writing this: hnghnghng this is about moths now so yeah... enjoy:)

It's been a whole year. The twins are back from their sea adventure and the kids are staying with them for the summer again. You were on your way over to the shack. Stan had written you a letter, inviting you over. He said it'd be nice to catch up, tell you and the kids all about their time at sea and that way they wouldn't have to tell the stories twice.

The stories weren't the only thing you were excited for. Before they had left Stan had encouraged you to confess to Ford, insisting that his brother felt the same for you as you did for him. But when you told him he just went silent for way too long.

"Ford?" A nervous chuckle escaped you. "Please say something?" He looked into your eyes, his gaze blank and unreadable. "I'm sorry." The words felt like a dagger to your heart. "F-for what?" You at least wanted him to have the balls to say that he doesn't care for you. "I don't see a romantic relationship between us having a future. Especially with Stan and I going out to sea tomorrow. I'm sorry."

You just nodded, taking the words in. "...This didn’t ruin what we have, did it? Will we still be friends when you get back?" Your voice was small, afraid of his answer. "I'll always be your friend." A sigh of relief. The idea of him not being a part of your life had been the reason you didn’t want to confess to him in the first place. You only did it because Stan was so convincing that he reciprocated your feelings. Turns out you were both wrong.

You shook your head, breaking yourself out of the bad memory. After almost an entire year, you had come to terms with it. Now, you were just excited to see your friend again. Excited to have a normal conversation with him again.

Back in the shack the Family was preparing everything. The kids and Soos got the snacks and drinks ready while the Twins were busy starting the campfire. Stan watched as Ford poked around in the fire. He shook his head.

"I'll never understand it." Ford looked up at his brother. "I'll never understand how someone as smart as you could let go of the person who would have been the best thing in his life." Ford sighed. They had had this talk before.

It was pretty much the only thing they talked about the first week at sea. Stan would also bring it up anytime a night on the boat was too long and too quiet.

"We have nothing in common... That and our lifes are way too dangerous, I can't bring another person with me." He saw the disapproving look on Stan's face. "It's not like I have anything to offer. I've spent my whole life buried in books and research. I don't know how to be in a relationship."

Stan scoffed at that. "What are you talking about, Sixer? You're a catch! Times change, Nerds are the new Jocks. There's a reason I was the second choice for most of the babes we met." A bittersweet chuckle escaped Stan.

Ford sighed, focusing on the fire again. "It doesn't matter anyway. Even if I wanted to try again, I highly doubt that they're still single." Now that was something Stan couldn't counter. Mainly because it's something he hadn't even considered. You were so head-over-heels for Ford the last time you and Stan talked, it just didn’t seem likely that you'd go looking for someone else.

The kids and Soos came outside, carrying marshmallows, crackers, chocolate and Soda. Dipper was the first to sit down on one of the logs. "I can't wait to hear of all the creatures you found! It must have been awesome!"

"You bet!" Stan grinned at the boy. "But we won't start with the stories yet, someone is still missing." Ford looked at his brother suspiciously. "What are you talking about, Stanley?" At the same time Mabel's eyes widened. "Are you saying we get to see-" She was cut off as Stan stood up and called out your name, announcing your arrival.

You smiled sheepishly and greeted everyone. The kids were super excited to see you again and Mabel ran over to hug you. You hadn't realized how much you missed them. When she let go of you she practically dragged you over to the campfire. Stan, who was still standing, hugged you as well.

"It's good to see ya again, toots." You chuckled. "I missed you, too, Stan." You broke the hug and turned to Ford who made no effort to get up or anything along those lines. Instead, you just waved at him, but gave him the same fond smile you had shown the others. "The same goes for you, Ford."

Behind you, Stan frowned at his brother, obviously disappointed at the lack of enthusiasm he showed you. He quickly put on a smile as he addressed you again. "Please, take a seat! We were just about to begin with our stories."

You sat down between Stan and Soos, who just greeted you with a simple "Hey dude". You two had become friends over the course of the last year.

Soon everyone had prepared a stick with a marshmallow and held it over the fire while Stan told the most extravagant stories of their travels. You were glued to his every word, his storytelling being how you two became friends in the first place.

You were so engrossed in the stories that you didn’t notice the way Ford looked at you. He adored you. The way the warm light of the fire illuminated your features perfectly. The way your eyes seemed to sparkle with pure joy as Stan talked about heroically fighting off some beasts. Hell, he loved you.

This wasn't news to him, of course. Ford had known this for over a year. In fact, when you confessed your feelings for him, he wanted to hug you, kiss you, propose to you on the spot. But he didn’t. Because he felt like he wasn't enough.

Ford felt like he didn’t deserve happiness after almost ending the world and he knew that he would achieve it if he let himself be with you.

Back then, after you had left, Ford had told Stan about the whole thing, who took him by the shoulders and shook him, asking him if he was insane. The next day, when they were about to leave, you had stopped by to say goodbye to Stan, but refused to speak to Ford, politely making up a reason why you had to leave again.

It had crushed him. Ford wanted to sprint after you, turn you around and kiss you all dramatically like in the movies. But he didn’t. Because he had hurt you already and didn’t dare to make it even worse.

Which, of course, had made it worse anyway. The way you had parted ways meant that you were left all alone with a broken heart. And you couldn't even talk to your best friend about it because he was on the same boat as Ford.

But now, as Ford looked at you again, he felt all the feelings he had been trying to bury beneath the ocean floor bubble back up again.

"And that is how Ford and I defeated the mighty Kraken!" Stan was standing, his hands raised to the sky in triumph. All of you cheered and clapped your hands. It was so good to hear his gruff voice and exaggerated stories again. Although, you were more inclined to believe him this time.

The evening went on with more stories, smores and lots of laughter. You were so relieved to have them back in your life again, all four of them. You had missed them more than you realized.

Eventually, it turned late and the kids began to get sleepy. The fire had also died down. In a joined effort you all cleaned the place back up, bringing the rest of the snacks and drink back inside the shack.

After putting more things on the kitchen table for Stan and the kids to put away you went outside again to see if there was anything else to get. Soos came your way and you held the door open for him as you stepped outside.

Ford was still there. "That's everything. Soos took the last of it." You nodded. "Neat." You were about to step back inside again when you felt Ford's energy shift to a more energetic one. He pointed to the porch light.

"Look at that! That's a Tyria jacobaeae! I haven't seen one of these in ages. A beautiful creature, just look at the markings on its wings, the bright red color..." Ford looked at the moth in awe and when you stepped closer you realized why.

The little black and red creature truly was stunning. But if Ford hadn't pointed it out then you never would have noticed it. "It is really pretty. But there is no way I'm gonna remember a latin name for anything." You chuckled lightly as you said it.

Ford hummed in acknowledgement. "Well, it is more commonly known as the Cinnabar Moth. Cinnabar, like the mineral, of course, because of its striking color. It wards off predators, letting them know that they're toxic."

You instinctively took a step back and Ford chuckled at your reaction. "There is nothing for you to worry about unless you plan to eat the little guy." You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. "Haha, no. Doesn't really fit my diet." Ford and you shared a laugh together.

Another, considerably larger, moth joined the other one at the lamp. This one was bright white and yellow with little black dots on its wings. Ford nodded knowingly as he spotted it. "Estigmene acrea. The Salt Marsh Moth. Very pretty, but did you know that these little guys aren't very well liked around here?"

Even though it was a rhetorical question you shook your head 'no' and sat down on the couch Stan kept on the porch, letting Ford lecture you. He quickly sat down next to you as he continued. "They feed on most crops which means that farmers have to be on the lookout for them around this time."

God, how you had missed this. Just hanging out with Ford, letting him tell you all about a subject he was passionate about was one of your favorite things in the world.

Your gaze shifted from the Moths in front of you to Ford's face as he kept on talking about the little creatures. You didn’t try to keep the look of adoration off your face as you watched him animatedly explain the differences in their wingspans.

Eventually, he noticed your staring and turned his eyes to you, stuttering his speech to a halt. You chuckled fondly. "How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?" He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"You just have to open your eyes and learn to find beauty in the mundane. That way you won't ever be bored again." As if on its own your body leaned towards him. You quickly stopped yourself. He rejected you once, you didn’t need to go through that again. Ford hadn't noticed.

You forced your eyes away from his and toward the moths again with a sigh. "The only times I haven't felt any boredom were the days I spent with you last year." A tight feeling settled in your chest as you spoke the words, but you couldn't stop yourself. "And today, of course."

You tried to keep your tone casual, your voice light. Ford felt an ache in his heart. He wanted you to never be bored again, show you the world through his eyes. Show you how he saw you.

"Surely you weren't bored every day of this past year, right? I bet you went on at least one interesting date?" He tried to keep his tone equally casual. Tried to keep the desperation out of his voice.

You snorted. "Yeah, right. Who'd wanna date me?" "I would." You froze. Surely you had misheard him? You turned to look at Ford again, his expression was... honest?

You frowned. "I'm not in the mood for jokes, Ford." You stood and turned, about to walk away. Ford grabbed your wrist, stopping you. "Who's laughing?" You pressed your eyes shut and stayed with your back to Ford, unable to look at him.

"I just got over you. Don't make me go through all of that again." Ford felt his heart shatter in his chest. "I am so sorry." He paused, trying to find the right words. "I was a selfish asshole. And you deserved so much better. You still deserve someone so much better than me."

Ford took a deep breath, still holding tightly onto your wrist. He couldn't let you go until you knew the truth. "I, on the other hand, don't deserve your forgiveness. Hell," A bitter laugh escaped him, "it took Stan a whole year to convince me that maybe I deserve to be happy sometimes at all, even though I almost caused the world to end."

He took a shaky breath, tears pricking at his eyes. But he wasn't done yet. "I spent the whole year regretting every word I said to you that day. Because... what I didn’t have the guts to tell you then is... I love you."

Ford stared at the back of your head, looking for any movement at all that could give away how you felt about his words. But you didn’t move for a moment, didn’t spare him a glance. Without a word, you flexed your arm and pulled hard, tearing your wrist from his grip.

You walked away from him and the shack without turning back. Ford was in shambles, his legs trembling and tears flowing freely. He wouldn't have been able to follow you.

Stan and the kids had watched the whole thing unfold from one of the windows, being attracted to the sudden noise like moths to the light. Now they stood shocked, with their jaws on the floor.

Back at home you threw your shoes and jacket in a corner before collapsing onto your bed. You were angry at Ford for treating you like that, playing with your emotions for over a year. Slowly, it settled in that Ford had just confessed his love to you.

After a year of thinking he didn’t want you that way, it left your emotions all over the place. Angry, sad and with a weird feeling of relief you cried yourself to sleep.

A soft knock to your window woke you up again. It was still dark outside. It was a big window that led to a balcony. You stepped in front of it and pulled the curtains back, revealing Ford. He looked like a kicked puppy, making it impossible for you to ignore him.

You opened the window and stepped outside to him. "What do you want, Ford?" He cringed at your harsh tone of voice. "I came to apologize... again. I know I hurt you. I know I behaved all wrong. And I'm sorry." He looked up into your eyes.

"I don't expect you to fall into my arms or anything like that. You're over me and that's fine. I won't try to win you back. I-I just wanted to be honest... but, maybe that made it worse again..." Ford shook his head, starting to pace around in front of you.

You took a deep breath. It was time to just let go of your anger and instead seize the moment while you had the chance. "Ford." He turned to look at you with big, hopeful eyes. "I'm not over you."

He took a step closer as you continued. "I thought I was. But everything that happened tonight... everything you said... I still love you." You locked eyes with him and you could see the relief flooding through him as he let out the breath he was holding.

Silence washed over the both of you, neither sure how to proceed. But the silence wasn't uncomfortable either.

The dull moonlight cast a blue hue over the both of you. You looked up at Ford's hair, admiring the way the light made it glow, when a little winged creature landed on his perfect hair. A smile crept on your face and you raised your eyebrow along with your hand to his hair.

Carefully, you held your hand out to the creature, offering your finger to sit on. Ford stayed quiet and you urged him not to move too much with one hand on his chest. The animal took your offer and when you felt every one of its six legs on your finger you brought your hand back down.

You held the little moth between you two. Its wings were light-blue with dark tips. Ford smiled at the creature. "Lomographa semiclarata or Bluish Spring Moth." He put one of his hands under yours, making you both hold it together.

"Did you know that in a more spiritual sense, moths often symbolize transformation and are generally considered as a good omen?" You looked up from the moth and smiled softly at him. "Is that so?" You let the hand you still held on his chest wander upwards to his neck.

Ford nodded lightly. "They represent positive conclusions." You let out a content breath, accidentally startling the moth into flight. Both of you followed the creature with your eyes. "...And sometimes death."

You laughed and lightly swatted him on the chest with your now free hand. "You better not die on me, Ford." He placed one of his hands on top of yours that was now on his chest and the other one on your waist, pulling you closer. "I wouldn't dare."

Ford slowly moved his face closer to yours, giving you plenty of time to back away in case you didn’t want what was about to happen. But why wouldn't you, this is the moment you spent an entire year dreaming about!

You let your eyes flutter shut and soon enough felt Ford's lips on yours. They were softer than you imagined, making you smile slightly into the kiss. You moved your lips against his in a way that felt just right. Like this was how it was always supposed to be.

Ford sighed into the kiss, finally relaxing and letting himself enjoy the moment. This was the kiss you would remember forever. Especially because he would immortalize it in his journal first thing tomorrow morning.

When you both parted you felt like you were floating. You rested your head on Ford's shoulder, just enjoying finally being able to hold him like this.

"Positive conclusion, indeed."

[ch0wen]

Raise a Little Hell

Trevor x Fem!Reader Part 1 | Part 2 * - (in progress)

𓎙─۫──۪─𓎙

Trevor got home, drunk, and you were pissed off at him for it. You started an argument with him because lately, he's always out late and intoxicated when he gets home.

He started yelling at you back, pissed too that you're always bringing up him going out and, in his eyes, having fun.

"Seriously? You're bringing up me getting drunk when you're literally the one who gives me grief for being even a minute late getting back from work? Work, babe. I need a drink in me to handle your war paths." He groans as he puts a hand on his head and runs it down the front of his face, before snagging the freshly opened beer bottle off the side table and taking a swig.

"I made dinner, Trev," I sigh. Gesturing to the pans on the stove with the cold, burnt food caked inside. Feeling stupid standing in the kitchen in a floral patterned dress.

"Yeah, and? It's your job to make dinner. The food is cold at this point anyway," He scoffs and leans back against the wall. He didn't notice how upset you were. He was just being stubborn as always.

"No, it's not my job, you prick."

I toss the hastily untied apron onto the counter, before opening the fridge and getting my own beer. Cracking it open and taking a swig.

He glares at you, watching you drink the beer, "Oh really? Then what is it, huh? Housework?"

He says it sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. Pushing off the wall as he walks closer to you, clearly still drunk.

You scoff at his ignorant comment, but point your beer neck toward him, "Don't you come near me. I'm so fucking annoyed with you." Then tossing one of the pans into the sink. He grabs your arm and pulls you against him.

"What're you gonna do about it, princess?" He chuckles and looks down at you, smirking as he's clearly messing with you.

"You're drunk. Let go of me," you shrug him off and turn to start scrubbing at the pan. He wraps his arms around your waist and presses himself against your back, his chin on your shoulder as he watches you clean the pan.

"But I don't wanna..." He says it in a pouty tone, acting like a brat on purpose to get a reaction out of you.

You scrub at the pan as you let him hold on. Pausing to drink your beer with a heavy sigh as it's set back down. Dropping the sponge. And without turning around, you stare blankly at the backsplash that you helped him pick out last month, "Was Riley there?"

He groans when you bring up Riley. Not wanting to admit that he was at the bar with her. Knowing that it'll make you even more pissed at him.

"Yea, she was." He admits it quietly, while his grip on your waist tightens. Not wanting you to turn around.

"Of course she was," you mumble as you start scrubbing the pan again. He sighs, hearing the irritation in your voice.

"C'mon, don't be mad. It was just for fun." He tries to defend himself, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and mumbling against your skin.

You huff, "How am I supposed to feel when you still hang out alone with the girl you used to fuck, Trev?"

He grits his teeth when you ask that. Clearly, he does not want to talk about it. "We're just friends. We've been over this." He mutters and tightens his grip even more. Now just holding you possessively.

"Yeah, I know. But you never have us hang out all together anymore," you rinse the pan, wash your hands, and let them fall to the edge of the countertop; Clenching tightly.

"Because you always act like this when she's around," He mutters. Moving his hands to grip your hips instead. Spinning you around so you're facing him now. He leans against the counter, trapping you between him and it. Looking down at you with a slight glare. You look into his blue eyes and just feel the anger and resentment. There's something dark about the way he looks at you now. You don't know when things started going downward. But he just started to shift away emotionally and it's severely affecting your relationship,

"She is just so handsy when she drinks and you just let her." You frown at him as he rolls his eyes at that. Not seeing the problem with it, sighs, his grip on your hips tightening a bit more.

"She's just a touchy person when she's drunk. That's all. It's not like she's doing anything to me," He mutters. His tone is dismissive, as if your feelings didn't matter in this situation.

"I just," you sigh. Feeling like you're not going to get through to him. You know the routine - He drinks, you bicker, you either fight or fuck, he forgets, he's super apologetic like a dog with its tail between its legs the next day, he drinks, repeat. "I mean, surely you could understand that I worry she doesn't know her limit when she's alone with you."

He sighs again. Growing annoyed at your concerns and how much you're worrying about something that he sees as insignificant.

"Babe," He groans and moves one of his hands to your chin. Tilting your head up to look at him. His expression was stern as he looked down at you. His grip on your chin is almost tight enough to bruise. "Stop worrying so much. Nothing is going to happen between me and her, I promise."

"Okay," you wince and grab his wrist. Pulling his hand away from your face. "Jesus, fuck. I hate how aggressive you get when you drink."

He looks slightly annoyed that you pulled his hand away. His grip on your hip tightened to a point where it was almost painful. "Then why do you keep pissing me off?" He grumbles, not really meaning it, but still being antagonistic from the alcohol in his system.

"I don't know, Trev!?" You give a firm but not harsh shove, as you move away from the counter. Not liking him cornering you like that. You scoop up your beer and walk through his studio apartment into the living room and onto the leather couch. "I feel like I don't even know you anymore."

He follows you, "What do you mean you don't know me anymore?" His tone is cold as he sits beside you, leaving a bit of space between.

"You-...you came home late one night a few weeks ago and you've just seemed off ever since," you furrow your brow as you gaze out of focus into the apartment. Trying to remember what may have happened to cause this change in him. He raises an eyebrow at that. A look of irritation on his face as he tries to also remember what you're talking about. He leans back against the couch and crosses his arms, his mind racing.

He finally speaks, "I've been off because you keep pestering me about stupid shit like work and what time I get home. That's why I seem 'off'."

"No. No, Trevor. That's not just it. You came back on edge that night. Like you did something bad and wrong. And I always thought you were seeing someone. Maybe Riley again. And you've just been distant..."

As you sip your beer with a sigh, Trevor clenched his jaw. He wasn't expecting you to bring that up again. He looks at you, his expression closed off as he processes what you say. He was silent for a moment before speaking again. His tone was cold and emotionless, "And you're accusing me of cheating on you again, huh?"

"Because I feel like I don't know you," You repeat. Slapping your hand to your side as you turn to him. Taking in his lack of expression. A dim light of the man you actually fell in love with. His handsome defined features are now stony. "You have been pushing me away."

He scoffs and rolls his eyes again, clearly not believing you. "I'm pushing you away because you're constantly accusing me of cheating on you, and it's pissing me off, princess." The nickname he uses sounds almost like an insult now. He clenches his jaw again, and you wonder if it could unhinge if he does that too often. The irritation is clear on his face as he runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Because you're never around?! And when you are, you're drunk! It's like you need to be away from me or under the influence when you're around." You huff, as you sneer over at him. Angry at yourself that your features are betraying you as they brim your eyes with tears.

He groans when he sees you getting teary-eyed. He hates when you cry, especially when it's because of him. "Oh, so I'm a bad boyfriend because I need a few drinks every now and then? You're so damn sensitive." Not wanting to admit that he does have a drinking problem and that it is starting to affect his relationship with you.

You shake your head and finish the beer. Getting up to retrieve another. "Happy Anniversary, Trev."

He watches you walk into the kitchen, "Ah yeah, forgot that was today," he says sarcastically.

You keep the fridge open, as you hide behind the door from Trevor. Letting some angry tears fall. Wiping at them harshly as you snag another beer bottle. "You're just further proving my point." You mumble, before letting the fridge door slam shut.

"And what point would that be, hm?" He grunts as he rises from the couch and stalks into the kitchen, stopping behind you to lean against the counter. "That I'm a bad boyfriend? Because I'm fully aware of that, sweetheart."

"Yes. Exactly. Something happened to you three weeks ago and you've been a really shitty boyfriend ever since," you snap, angrily facing him.

He raises an eyebrow before glaring down at you, "You really think I'm a shitty boyfriend because of a single night where I came home late?" Despite the night having affected him more than he wanted to admit, he feigns ignorance.

"No! That night changed you into becoming a shitty person," you shout, growing frustrated.

He steps closer, getting in your face and towering over you. "Watch your tone, princess." He growls. His expression turned into a scowl.

"No." You outstretch your arm to keep him at a distance. Manicured fingertips barely touching his toned chest, "You don't get to intimidate me. I'm done with this fucking toxic cycle!"

He grabs your wrist, his grip tight. He pulls you closer to him, leaving no space between your bodies. "Oh yeah? What're you going to do about it?" He asks in a challenging tone. Looking down at you with a smirk, enjoying this a bit too much.

You look up at him in terror before instinctively slamming the beer bottle onto the counter. Holding the jagged end toward him as you back up, "I'm done with the fighting and the aggressive sex. The darkness you bring with you into a room. You have been nothing but a storm cloud in your own life. You don't go to work, you just drink. You avoid. You destroy."

He looks at the broken bottle in your hand, eyes widening slightly at the action, before returning to their fixed cold glare on you. "Oh yeah? Well, maybe you should've thought of that before falling in love with me, huh?" His tone was almost cruel as he held his gaze. Not intimidated at all by you or the broken glass.

You feel your back hit the wall as you whimper slightly. Yet, you keep your stare hardened and determined. Sick of the emotional abuse that you've been suffering through for the past few weeks. Knowing in your gut something happened to your once loving boyfriend that fateful night.

"I loved your old self. The Trevor I fell in love with would've never made me question that he would've ever laid a hand on me. Unlike the version of you standing in front of me now." My hand holding the bottle was shaking.

Trevor notices the shaking hand, a bit of amusement in his eyes, as he steps closer again. Closing the distance between you. He places a hand on the wall next to your head, trapping you against the wall with his body.

"Oh really?" He asks in a mocking tone, a smirk gracing his lips. "You're sure you still love the old me? Not even the version of me that you see now?"

You shake your head, "No. Because I'm not sure there's an ounce of him left in you. You have been so abusive. I don't even feel loved by you anymore," your lip is uncontrollably wobbling. "We don't make love as much as we used to. It's all aggressive and hard and punishing. You hit, and scratch, and I claw to get away from you."

Trevor raises an eyebrow at your words. His smirk widens slightly as he looks at you with a mix of disbelief and amusement. He leans in close to your ear, his voice low and mocking as he speaks, "Oh? And who's fault is that? Who's the one who gets me drunk and then expects me to not be a little rough with you?"

"I don't want you drinking!? You've just used it to cope or numb something. Baby, I want to help you. But you have to help me. This isn't you." You try fighting the tears, but they trickle down as you plead to him.

He scoffs at your words. Moving his face away from your ear and looks down at you with a cold expression. "Help me? Help me with what? You can't help me, princess. No one can."

His tone is harsh and dismissive as if he truly believed that there was nothing that could be done to fix him or the mess he's in.

"But there is something that happened?! I can try." you whimper. "Please baby, just talk to me."

You place a shaking hand on his cheek. His expression softened slightly. He stays silent for a moment. Debating whether or not to tell you what happened that night, three weeks ago.

He sighs, the fight leaving his body as he leans into your touch. The coldness in his eyes fades as he looks at you.

"Please, Trevy," you whisper. A thumb caressing his skin.

He sighs again and closes his eyes. The nickname causes a pang of guilt to go through his chest. He was still a little drunk, but the softness in your touch and the tone of your voice was making him vulnerable again. Something that he recently hated being. But, he knows deep within his soul that he should be taking care of you.

He leans into your touch more, his head dropping down onto your shoulder as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Silent; he just rests there.

"Okay, maybe not tonight. Maybe let's go to bed, yeah?" You whisper. Your hand moves to card through his hair. Feeling your heart clench as he finally shows you a minuscule glimpse of a gentle reaction.

He lets out a shaky exhale against your neck as your fingers move. The sensation was soothing him in a way that he didn't know he needed. He stays like that for a moment, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him as he clings to you like a lifeline.

"I love you so much, Trevor. I want to be there for you. I'm here for you." Your hands continue to gently scrape at his scalp. Feeling him slacken into your touch. You push off the wall and slumped over, now cuddly man toward his bed.

He allows you to guide him. You sit him on the bed and help him remove his pants and shirt. You catch the tired smirk on his lips, while his eyes remain closed. Only catching them peeking open as he sleepily watches you move around the room while taking care of him. He lets you help him lie down, and you place a garbage can by his side of the bed.

"Bedtime, baby. We'll talk tomorrow."

He grabs your wrist as you try to pull away, "Stay with me." He mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper as he tugs you down onto the bed with him. You oblige as you let him pull you. Having changed into one of his t-shirts while puttering about the apartment.

You curl into him and appreciate the warmth his body provides. You bury your face in his chest and let out a deep sigh. He immediately wraps his arms around you. Pulling you flush against his chest and holding you close to him. Burying his face in your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, and letting it calm him further. He's silent for a moment before speaking again, his voice still quiet and hoarse,

"I'm sorry."

"I know," I hum, as I press a soft kiss to his chest.

He shivers slightly. Arms tightening around you like you're the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

𓎙─۫──۪─𓎙

Eventually, you feel Trevor's breathing even out. You roll over in his arms, and he unconsciously pulls you closer, staring out into the dark apartment. Wide awake after the events of tonight.

The darkness plays tricks with the shadowy furniture, as you glance around the room. Your mind races as the overthinking kicks in. What did he do three weeks ago? What happened to him? He came back almost the exact way he's been acting now. Just so much more aggressive, all softness scrubbed out of his body. This is the first time in a long time that you feel like you actually cracked him a bit.

His face is buried in your neck again, breathing steady and soft. Your eyes flick to his phone lighting up in his jeans pocket. Illuminating the section of the room like a spotlight. You hesitate but then move carefully to get up.

Trevor lets out a small noise of disapproval when you move, his arms searching for you in his sleep and finding nothing. He grumbles as he rolls over onto his stomach, burying his face into the pillow and remaining fast asleep.

You breathe a sigh of relief when he stops fussing and take out his phone. Lowering the screen brightness before seeing the message. From Riley, asking him if he made it home safely.

You worry at your lip before unlocking the phone and texting her.

'Yes. But it's Diana. I'm concerned about him. Can we talk?'

The phone buzzes with a response almost immediately, 'sure. we can talk now if you want.' And she asks if you're able to talk privately.

'Ye can we meet at that 24/7 diner at the corner of ferry street??' You start pulling on a pair of Trevor's sweatpants and zip-up as you wait for her response.

Riley texts back a 'sure thing,' and tells you she'll meet you there in a few minutes. Quickly, you put Trevor's phone back and slip a pair of boots on before quietly leaving the apartment. Heading out of the complex, and over a few blocks to the diner.

𓎙─۫──۪─𓎙

You arrive at the diner, noticing the back of Riley's curly hair sitting in the booth in the corner. This place is mostly empty. She waves you over when she sees you walk in, you spare a glance at the clock on the wall and note that it's almost 4am.

Her expression is filled with concern as she watches you approach.

"Hi Riley," you smile softly, before sitting down opposite her in the booth. Taking in how tired she looked. "I'm sorry for keeping you up."

She waves her hand dismissively, her eyes studying you closely as she takes in your appearance. "Don't worry about it, Diana. I was awake anyway."

She lets out a small sigh and leans back in her seat, a tired look in her eyes, "so, what's up with Trevor?"

You fiddle with your fingers nervously on the table, "Y-you're his friend. Have you noticed he's been acting different?"

Riley nods in agreement, "Yeah you're not the only one who has noticed that. He's been really different. I've tried talking to him about it, but he just shuts me down and changes the subject every time."

You worry at your lip and then look at her, "Was he with you? Three weeks ago?"

Riley looks at you for a moment, her eyes widening slightly as she realizes what you're asking. She hesitates for a moment, clearly conflicted about whether or not to tell you the truth. She lets out a sigh and nods slowly.

Your brow furrows as you feel your heart drop. Eyes falling to your hands and sliding them off the table, "Yeah, he was with me three weeks ago."

"Were you guys like...sleeping together?"

Riley's eyes comically widen even more at your question. She quickly shakes her head, a look of horror on her face. "No! God, no. We weren't sleeping together." She says firmly. Clearly taken aback by the suggestion.

Your eyes dart up and you sit back in your seat. "Oh! Oh. I'm so sorry, I just know you guys have a history and I've only just started being really paranoid."

You shake your head, but Riley lets out a soft sigh as she releases a bit. Understanding where you were coming from.

"I get why you would've thought that though. But we're friends. Nothing more, I swear."

"Thanks. I believe you," you nod. "What were you guys doing that night then?"

Riley looks down at the table for a moment, hesitating again before answering.

"He was having a rough night. And I let him stay over at my place for a while to get his mind off of things." She says, keeping her answer vague. Not wanting to tell you the details of that night.

"Did he tell you what happened? Please, he won't tell me anything. But I feel like he came home almost possessed that night and just hasn't been the same since." Desperation and worry lacing your words.

Riley sighs again, her expression filled with sympathy as she sees the desperation in your eyes, "He was, really messed up that night. I tried talking to him about it but he didn't tell me anything. All he said was that he did something stupid."

She pauses for a moment, debating whether or not to continue. You look to her, silently pleading that she does.

"He was just so full of guilt and regret when he showed up at my place. I've never seen him like that before. He wouldn't even look me in the eyes. It was like he couldn't bear to face me."

"Did he say why?" You ask breathlessly. "I'm sorry, I just want to understand so I can know if I can help him in any way."

Riley shakes her head, messy curls bouncing. A look of frustration on her face, "He didn't give me details. He just kept saying 'I did something terrible' and 'I don't deserve her.'"

Her expression softens slightly, "He really loves you, you know..."

Your lip wobbles, feeling like you've hit a dead end. Nodding halfheartedly, "I just don't get it."

"I know it's hard."

"I mean," you sigh. "I think deep down that he wouldn't cheat. At least the Trevor I knew for a good chunk of our relationship wouldn't. And if that's the Trevor that went out that night, then how awful was the circumstance that he put himself into?"

Riley squeezes your hand reassuringly, her eyes filled with understanding. "I know you trust him. And I know he wouldn't cheat. But whatever he did that night, it really messed him up. I've never seen him so self-destructive before."

You can't help your worried tears as you hastily wipe them away with the sleeve of the hoodie. Breathing in his familiar cologne. "Did he like, mention anything else that may have not made sense? Like he didn't hint at anything he got himself into?"

Riley shakes her head again, "He didn't say anything else. Just drank himself stupid and cried. Pretty closed off. Ok, well, I guess he did say one more thing though..."

You peek up with piqued interest. Riley's expression grows serious, "he mentioned a 'lament' and that he didn't deserve you. That he was a monster for what he's done and you should hate him."

"What?" Riley nods slowly. Eyes locked in on yours as she sees the shock and disbelief. Your brows furrow again, as your mind spirals. Lament? And if not cheating then what else?

Riley watches as your mind clearly starts racing. A look of worry on her face as she could practically see the gears turning.

"Don't. Don't over think it, Diana," She says softly, gently squeezing your hand again.

"I don't think that's possible. I worry so much for him."

"I know you do. But you're not going to figure out what happened by stressing yourself out. It's not good for you."

You nod and almost ignore her concern as you ask your follow-up question, "What do you guys talk about when you're together?"

Riley raises an eyebrow at the question, caught off guard by it, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, again, I trust and know that there's nothing funny going on between you guys. You're friends. Always shooting the shit and catching each other up on life, from what I've seen. What have you guys been chatting about lately? Any plans? Did he talk about anything in the past few weeks before that night?"

Riley's question becomes more thoughtful as she processes the question, "Well, we haven't really been talking much recently. Things have been a bit tense between us since that night. He kind of sulks and drinks and keeps me as a drinking buddy. But I think around the time of the incident, he mentioned going out to meet up with some old friends."

"Anything else?"

"We didn't really talk for long. He seemed distracted the whole time. And I didn't want to pry or make him uncomfortable."

You squeeze her hand and smile at her gratefully, "Okay. Ok, thank you for sitting through my interrogation," you tease.

Riley chuckles and rolls her eyes, "It wasn't one! I understand why you're asking, you know. I'd probably be just as confused and worried if I were in your positon right now."

"Thank you. It just isn't sitting right with me," I release her hand and look at the clock. "I've kept you. You need some sleep, I bet."

Riley looks to the clock and realizes how late it is. "Yeah, you're probably right. I have work in the morning." She looks back to you concerned, "Are you gonna be okay, Diana?"

"I will be once he is, probably." You admit, "But, I wanted to say I'm sorry if I ever have been bitchy to you or have come off cold when we have all hung out. I really appreciate you being in his life, and I genuinely hope to get to know you more." You smile softly.

Riley's heart warms at your sincerity. "It's okay, I get it. And there's no need to apologize. I know you're going through a lot right now. And I would like to get a beer with you guys, we'll need to figure out a time when you're not in the mood to kick my ass for hanging out with your boyfriend."

"No, I trust your word. There will be no skepticism seeping from me again," you promise with a bigger smile. "But just no hands on the upper thighs. Everywhere else, above the belt, is at the legal limit," you tease.

Riley bursts out laughing at your comment. A light blush crept on her cheeks, "I promise I'll keep my hands to myself, don't worry." She says giggling a bit.

"We all get that way when drinking, I don't blame you, girl." You giggle a bit and feel a wave of comfort and happiness wash over you - Having the feeling of being shut into a dark corner for some time in these past few weeks.

Riley smiles warmly, feeling a sense of camaraderie between you. "Exactly, and I know I can be a bit touchy when I'm drunk...But I can't help it. Trevor is just so touchable, ya know?"

You smirk, "He really is! He works that body to perfection. Hard not to poke at those muscles."

Riley nods, "Oh yeah, I'm pretty sure it's physically impossible not to want to touch those muscles. They're so defined, I could just drool over them for hours."

You laugh and nudge her playfully, "Alright, relax!"

"I'm just being honest! Haven't you seen the way he looks without the shirt on?"

You smirk to yourself. Nibbling on your lip a little as you think of all the times you've walked into his apartment after he's worked out, or got out of the shower, in the shower with him, on top of him, underneath him. He had an amazing physique that can be appreciated by all. But you get to see and feel it at all of his most intimate angles. And while Riley may share similar experiences with you, you can feel in your gut that she is no threat.

Riley can't help but notice the way your eyes glaze over slightly as you think of Trevor. She smirks at the sight, clearly amused.

With your mind focused on Trevor, your lips falter as you begin to worry about him. Your mind falls back on how much he has shut down. You spare Riley a weak smile before lightly tapping the table, "Right. I'm gonna motor. We'll keep in touch, yeah? I'll snag your number from him. Good Night, Riley!"

Riley smiles softly as she notices your expression falter again, her playful demeanor lessening. "Yeah, of course. Get some rest, Diana. You look like you need it."

"You too. Stay safe and well." You bid her farewell as you leave the diner. Briskly walking back to Trevor's apartment complex and letting yourself in with your key.

𓎙─۫──۪─𓎙

The apartment is dark and quiet. The only sounds are the low hum of the air conditioning and soft snores coming from the bed. Trevor is still asleep.

You breathe shakily, grateful that he’s still asleep. And before you think better of it, you’re back on his phone. Scrolling through text messages. He only has a couple of group chats, and single chats to search through. He doesn’t really keep up conversations or talk to a whole lot of people.

You find a group chat that showed the last message was received the night things went to shit. It was a message confirming a meeting point.

The group chat seems to consist of a few unknown numbers. There are only a few messages in the chat. You scroll through the messages, looking for any clues or hints as to what he was doing that night.

An unknown number was texting about a burglary they were planning. - ‘Big score.’ - There was dropped a pin to an address. - Trevor confirmed he ‘was in.’ - Is this what they got up to that night? Was he a part of a robbery? Did he kill someone? Did someone do something to him? Instinctively, you look at his sleeping form.

Then your eyes flick back to stare at the text messages for a moment longer, your heart racing in your chest. You’re not sure what to think. The thought of Trevor being involved in a robbery is shocking and unnerving. And you can’t help but notice the lack of details about what actually happened that night

As you look at his sleeping form, you feel a mix of emotions. You’re worried about him but also hurt and confused by his actions. You don’t want to believe that he would do something like this, but the evidence is right in front of you. But that still doesn't answer the glaring questions.

After a beat, you glance at the clock and a sigh of resignation, locking the phone. That’s enough detective work for the night, Nancy Drew, you mentally chide. You put his phone back and shed the boots, hoodie, and sweatpants, and crawl back into bed with Trevor.

Trevor stirs slightly, his eyes fluttering open just a bit.

“Babe…?” He mumbles sleepily, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“Sorry, baby. I just got back from the bathroom. Didn’t mean to disturb you.” You whisper, kissing his arm as you settle in.

Trevor hums softly at the press of your lips to his arm, and his grip on you tightens slightly. He mumbles something incoherent, his eyes still half closed as he pulls you flush against his chest.

You let his breathing guide you into sleep. Comforted just knowing he’s here, providing you warmth and not pushing you away. You fall asleep for only a few hours but soak in the moments of tranquility. Ready to tackle this mystery tomorrow.

[donnerpartyofone]

I should really be ashamed to complain about this but since there's nothing left of this world anyway (TL;DR everything is so remarkably shitty now down to the smallest little annoying details, exponentially shittier than it was five and then ten years ago, and it's fucking crazy-making):

For work, I need to watch a movie that I know is on Prime. I go into Prime and look up the one-word title. It gives me a short list of "top results", not including my movie. Under "top results" is a slew of other lists of movies, broken down by varying made-up subgenres; at a glance, none of the titles even contain the word I searched for, and none of them have anything to do with what I specifically want. I close the Prime app and open Plex, whose search function immediately tells me that the exact the movie is in Prime, and links me to it. By clicking the link in Plex, I am able to watch the movie on Prime.

I don't know what Prime is thinking. There seems to be an assumption that when I look for one exact thing that I know I want, that that's not really what I'm doing -- I'm actually secretly saying "Uh, I dunno, just like, pitch me something, find something to sell me on, I don't really care." How the fuck is that better business? Because Prime refused to serve me something that I explicitly asked for, in favor of pushing a whole bunch of shit I don't want but that it assumes is more popular with other people, I almost didn't use their service at all. There was no world in which I was going to give up on my actual requirement and just allow myself to be forced into some other unrelated, unwanted waste of time. And this is not because I'm such a frugal and conscientious consumer, I'm not really that smart even, but I wanted A SPECIFIC THING and if I didn't get it, then that would be the end. Why is there no way for me to get the FULL MATCHING RESULTS, why is there only "top results" and then a bunch of shit I didn't ask for? When did the search function just become like a random, vaguely-related recommendations engine? How is this supposed to help Prime get my business? I mean really, I didn't enjoy this experience, but how does this strategy even serve their own corporate greed?

YouTube does a similar thing to me where it will notify me about a new video from one of my subscriptions, and if I click on that, the app opens with the video playing in a little tiny reduced window shoved to the side of all these browsing options. Like as soon as I say "yes, I want X," YouTube instantly doesn't care; it only wants me to keep shopping around for other stuff that I have not said "yes" to already. It's like a bad boyfriend who isn't interested in what you actually consent to, he's only interested in what he can bully you into, that you would have otherwise avoided.

(I guess the physical-world equivalent would be the type of consumer who is in a permanent, almost subconscious retail therapy spiral, where they do way more browsing and buying than they do using and enjoying. The person's home is full of unopened packages and they probably wind up re-buying a lot of stuff because they don't even know what they own. This is probably every company's ideal customer now, and maybe this is why if I order an item from an online store, that store will email me every single day to try to make me buy the same exact item again, as if the thing I want is only the pleasure of buying, rather than owning and using the item.)

It drives me crazy when I see these arguments online about how you're a stupid idiot if you think that the internet is shittier and more intensively commercialized than it used to be. I think it's often that the cohort of people who are really techy and net-savvy overlap with people who are a little conservative in that way where they are instantly enraged if they hear some soft-hearted rube complaining about the dominant system. If this type of person sees a post by some glum little liberal about how the internet used to be more fun and easier to use, they will immediately shit right on top of that guy's head just to be spiteful, often using a small armory of data to gaslight the plaintiff into thinking that their problems are imaginary. It's the same as that thing that happened recently where a bunch of mean-spirited libertarian-flavored blogs started making all these posts explaining that the American economy is doing awesome and anyone who thinks that inflation is happening is a stupid piece of shit. Which was like, OK fine, all those graphs and numbers you got from right-wing think tanks look great; I take it back, there's no inflation or whatever, but now you have to give me a different word to use to describe why I can't afford anything anymore and everyone I know is in a constant, desperate search for a place to live where they won't starve.

[clubsmarties]

He grinned even though she couldn't see him he still did it. "I was getting to the hello just needed to catch you off guard first." His laughter was easy going and flowed like a river. "A National Park, not just any old one. Lassen Volcanic National Park. The meadows were freckled with wildflowers and those lakes are so crystal clear. I mean, I know I wasn't there for the sights but it was refreshing to see a familiar sight to home. Water wise anyway." He sighed and shook his head. "Truly unexpected way to start Monday morning with hearing grab your boots we going hiking. My legs are killing me though."

Hearing Liz on the other side of the call made him smile. He knew he'd missed her but it didn't click just how much until he heard her voice and consequently her teasing banter. He rolled his eyes as he chuckled and sighed. "He wishes he was this cool. Actually, we do have a UFO department did you know that? Fun fact of the night. I may just request a transfer. Thank you for the reminder. Alien life expert." Wally couldn't help but laugh at his own lame joke.

Getting the picture of his pup made him smile as he chuckled and talked to Dolly knowing she could hear him. "There's my precious girl." he cooed and saved the picture. "Thank you again for keeping her company. She looks very happy and very well loved." That pause made him open his eyes and frown. "That bad huh?" He wasn't sure if it was the tone of her voice or that pause that gave it away to him but he picked up on something in her voice. "For what its worth im glad you got my furry best friend to at least get a smile out of you." His dog was good at that. "Timezones you say, huh it's the first I'm hearing about it."

"Oh that tells me you have not had a moment to sit. Manoa Falls? It has a pretty name. Tell me about it. What did you like the most? A guard dog? Has she already found her new calling? Is this your way of breaking it to me? I'm glad that she's been having a ball of a week so far. I hope that when people asked if she was yours you said yes." He wouldn't have minded it either. Dolly took to Liz so he knew the dog liked her.

Wally sighed and knew that cop bullies usually tended to set their sights on a new target, the ones that came after them first. "I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do let me know." Just by the sound of her voice he knew she didn't want to dwell on this so he switched the topic. "Messy for sure. It turned out that the sheriff for the county lost the paperwork so Sunday when I landed had me at the station waiting for seven hours to see one page of a report that someone actually had saved. The rest needed to be requested from the San Diego office. Not only that but they had three suspects that all had alibis but stories didn't align correctly. So, now we have to trace all three of their footsteps. First guy had us at the National Park. The other was the aquarium and the last one which is my least favorite will have us at a strip club talking to some of the employees there. All this because no one thought to pull fingerprints. One deputy touched a bloody cloth with his hands." Wally sighed. "Upside is that they're all cooperating."

"Why are you so sure that Wildfire will hate you? Do you not trust me? If I had a doubt that she'd hurt you I wouldn't even have you consider this. It'll be like when you met Dolly. Wildfire will fall in love with you. Its not hard to do you know?" he rolled his eyes and laughed. "You are always thinking worst case scenarios. A pony? We can put you on ponies but technically Wildfire is a baby. You're scared of a little baby." His laughter wasn't mean spirited just amused. "It is a ranch. Fine we are adding feeding goats to the list. They jump up just FYI."

His sleepy little laughter rung out and nodded against his pillow. "Mhmm. The big old circle isn't there anymore but that's because city didn't let them build it. Said it was too big. But still there." Her laughter made him hum in content as he had forgotten how melodic a sound it was. "It's actually a funny story. The guy you were looking is friends with suspect number two. They just didn't put two and two together until I saw the report."

Wally switched to video as he had missed seeing her face but could use the pretense of seeing Dolly. He smiled sleepily as his eyes were the only thing visible. "They said it was Marilyn Monroe's ghost but I know that's false. She haunts the Roosevelt and we're so far away from that hotel. I think it's a poltergeist, might be, I hear rustling more than I see any figures pop up. I'm not scared," a little lie. "I just don't fuck with them. What if you inadvertently piss them off because you step on their favorite spot on the floor? And then you have one hanging on you and you have no idea how to begin to apologize." Shaking his head his eyes sparkled with amusement as he moved slightly so his long bang would fall to the side inside of on top of his eye. "Do you believe in them?"

" Well, hello to you too." Elizabeth chuckled as she plopped onto her bed before Dolly joined her. It was not like they bothered with greetings most times, but she couldn't help but poke. And it seemed like Dolly could either hear him, could tell by the way she spoke that it was him on the other line, whatever it was she nuzzled against her and looked up towards the phone. As she listened to him, she pet her head and gave her a look that said that she'd let her hear him in a moment once he was done talking. "Tell me where did they take you this time."

When he had left, she thought it would be a bit of freedom, no more him popping up randomly during her day. Or reaching out to bounce ideas off of during a case.

"Okay,Fox Mulder," she teased. "You're not in that department focus on your case."

On day one though, she realized how, lonely quiet, her days were without him. Charlie would check in from time to time as he usually did, but it wasn't the same. She would never admit it of course, but she liked the calls. She hated that he had seen through her lies and had Jamie deliver food when he dropped off Dolly, upset at herself, that he had seen through her stupid lie.

"Great, she's right here actually looks like she's missing you. Here," She took the phone away from her ear for a moment to take a picture of Dolly on the couch and send it his way before returning to the call. "It's been," a pause as she thought it over. "a week."

He was tired, he was babbling about time. "Yea, you know in all my travels I learned about this crazy thing called time zones. Pretty crazy." Hand absentmindedly petting Dolly began to scratch her behind the ears, as she decided to stop being so mean if only for a moment. "What haven't we done? And yeah, I found a new trail, well new to me anyway, Manoa Falls. It's really pretty. Some people thought she was mine and she had the best time on the trail. And a couple of people that came into the office thought she was some new guard dog of sorts." Smiling she looked down at her companion of these last couple of days and nuzzled down against her.

"Oh, him," her mood soured slightly. "It looks like it'll all be settled out of court with everything I provided, but he found a new target to aim his ire at." Sighing, she leaned back into a reclining position with her pillows underneath her. "But tell me about your case. Was it as bad as you thought it was going to be?"

Oh, adventure week. She had forgotten about that. Part of her had hoped he had too. "Not this again. Wildfire will hate me. And there's a first for everything, watch she'd bite my hand." Was she making excuses? Of course. Were they partly true to her fear of anything that she couldn't talk to, convince to see her way or seduce? Damn right. "Why not a pony? Ponies are nice and small, right? Or a goat? You said this was a ranch right? I could feed a goat. Or chickens!"

"Randy's still around?" That drew a laugh from her, she had seen cities change, towns become cities, and other places become living cemeteries, the fact that some things didn't change amused her. Not as much as what he said about a fax and it pertaining to her case. A raised eyebrow, she began to settle into a lying position, finding tiredness sinking through her bones. "You said that they needed you with their case, how could they possibly help me on mine from an ocean away?"

Laying on her side, she cuddled up against Dolly and placed the phone between her and the pillow. She didn't want to think about work and cases anymore. "Tell me about the haunted hallway. Are we talking full poltergeist or spectral nuisance? You never struck me as someone being scared of a little ghost. "

[imaredshirt]

Very interested in the idea of Stan being a little surprised just how violence-prone Ford has become after returning from the portal.

Like one day they're caught up in some trouble and Stan is about to suggest something about punching their way to safety.

"Look, Ford, I know you're not gonna want to hear this, but the only way we get out of here is to--"

And Ford interrupts with, "To knock our adversaries out cold with tremendous force and pile their unconscious bodies somewhere out of sight, obviously."

"...."

"What??"

"Nothing, I just - I guess I just thought you'd wanna do something more nerdy and, I don't know, diplomatic or something."

"It can be!" Ford pulls out a pair of pristine metal gloves imbued with electric runes and glowing energy nodules. "All we have to do is wear these McGucket Brand Diplo-Matic Metal Boxing Gloves to do the punching with. Granted," he adds, tossing a glove to Stan and pulling the six-fingered glove on his left hand. "While traversing the dimensions, I did have to resort to fighting my way out of trouble bare-knuckle, but since reconciling with Fiddleford, I was able to commission these from him. They'll really cut down on the number of hits it'll take to bring an enemy down, you see."

He looks up to find Stan just staring at him. "What?"

"When did you start resorting to violence right off the bat?"

"Around the same time an evil sorcerer from Dimension 90*BLT tried to imprison me in a sandwich shop diorama for all eternity," Ford says, then adds a little defensively. "And anyway, I don't resort to violence right off the bat, only in dire situations like this one. Is that going to be a problem?"

"You kidding me?" Stan immediately shakes the shock off and pulls his own custom made glove on. "First one to reach 20 punches gets to pick what's for dinner?"

Ford snaps his fingers and watches electric blue energy run along the runes and grins. "Loser has to pay."