#bean water doesn't count

[le-fandom-prince]

[queers-gambit]

Two to Tango

prompt: the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.4k+

note: author still does not want any messages about glorifying toxic relationships. typically, but not always, when someone calls you clingy, it's weaponized and is abusive. this fic is not meant to portray that! it’s meant to show internal agony and the journey to forgiveness - Carmy apologizes 'cause he's actually sorry!

warnings: cursing, reader folds 'cause who wouldn't for the sweet puppy that is Carmy, hurt and comfort, small angst, small fluff, we talk about Mikey a bit, author uses writing as therapy, relationship angst...? barely edited.

part one: God's Plan

"It's six in the Goddamn morning!" You raged at your front door, stomping up to it, "Are you dumb in the fucking head!? Who the fuck in their right mind knocks like the Goddamn cops at six in the fucking morning!?"

You whipped it open, the force causing a breeze of air to blow your bedridden hair back and highlight your exhaustion. "Hiya, sunshine," Richie beamed down at you, holding up a paper bag, offering, "donut?"

"Richie!? I know you're not fuckin' stupid, baby boy, so, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's six in the morning on my day off - do you want to give me a reason to punch you? You hate your nose that much?"

He tisked at you mockingly, "Someone's cranky this morning."

"What do you want?"

"You're not gonna invite me in for coffee? I brought us donuts! See? C'mon, Peach," He jostled the bag around with a shit-eating, closed-lip smile. "Dooonuts," he taunted.

You had to pause, count to ten in your head, then sigh through your nose. You offered kindly, "Richie? Would you like to come in for some coffee? Since you kindly brought donuts?"

He grinned, "Awwh, thanks, Peach, thats real nice of yah! Don't mind if I do!"

"Don't call me that," you snapped, leading him into your kitchen. The door shut and locked.

"Oh, someone's touchy."

"What do you fucking want?" You whined, pouring two mugs of hot coffee. "You come bangin' at my door, early ass in the mornin'. You better have a good-ass reason," you slid the mug over the counter he sat at. "Cream or sugar?"

He shook his head, fiddling with the mug for a moment before admitting as you dressed up your own coffee, "Uh, so... It's Carmy."

You paused, taking a slow sip from your mug, waiting for more that wouldn't come. So, you quietly asked, "What about Carmy?"

"He's falling apart."

"O...Kay?"

"Peach," he frowned, "you know that your relationship was the only thing that made sense to him - he's falling apart without you there."

"Okay," you nodded, taking another swallow of hot bean-water.

"That's it? Nothing else to say? Dude's losin' his fuckin' shit, Peach. Okay? Barely leaves the restaurant, h-he's all manic and shit, doesn't stop cookin', isn't gettin' a lotta sleep, and Syd said his clothes are all over the apartment - he's not keeping himself in order."

"So, he needs his mother?"

Richie glared with a clenched jaw, "Not fuckin' funny, Peach."

"I'm not laughing."

"He needs you."

"I'd argue otherwise, he's a grown fuckin' man who doesn't need to be taken care of. Look, if he was man enough to call me a desperate, clingy bitch, he's man enough to deal with the fallout of his words."

"Look, hey, hey, hey, I'm not sayin' he's not in the wrong," he waved his hands, eyes widening, "actually, the exact opposite. We all chewed his ass out when we found out what he fuckin' said, Peach. And look, I've never seen Fak that fuckin' angry."

You semi-pouted your bottom lip, "Really?"

"Fak was ready to strangle Carmy, I think," Richie sighed. "I yelled, Sugar yelled, Fak lost his shit, Syd even cornered him in the office and laid into him..."

"I thought she didn't like me," you whispered.

"She's getting to know you, but she likes you," he assured, "and it's obvious the affect you have on Carmy. We all respect that - "

"Oh, great, so everyone except the one person who needs to respect our relationship - respects it!"

Richie frowned at you, nodding in agreement before admitting, "He's a dumb fuckin' idiot, Peach, we all know that, but the dude is losing it without you."

"Sucks to suck."

"Peach," he groaned, slapping his hands to the counter with exasperation. "Don't you love him?"

"Of course I love him, but I also have this little thing called self-respect! He said some shit - shit he can't ever take back. The fuck I look like going back to him when he's the one in the wrong!? I don't hate myself that much, and despite what he says, I'm not that desperate for love."

"How is talking to the man you love - "

"Richie," you paused him, "your Cousin said a lot of hurtful shit. It's been weeks, okay? He's gonna snap outta it, realize what he's done, and right the wrongs he's committed. I don't need to speed that along in any way, shape, or form - he's a grown man. And I'm a grown woman, I don't have to fall to anyone's beck-and-call, he can figure his own shit out."

"I know - look, it's been fuckin' weeks of us dealin' with him losin' his fuckin' mind!" Richie snapped. "We tried to respect that you wanted distance and time, we really did, but he's losin' it, Peach, more than he's lost it before. Okay? I'm concerned about him, more than I was when the shit with Mikey went down..."

You sighed and leaned on your kitchen counter, wiping your fingers over your eyes to pinch the bridge of your nose after. "Okay, okay," you paused, sighing again, blinking as you looked at Richie, "so, what would you like me to do?"

He pouted dramatically, "Talk to him? Please?"

"To say... What?"

"I don't know, you guys can work that out together, but he's miserable, Peach. Just talk to him, just..." He sighed, shaking his head, "I know it's not fair to ask of you, but he's slippin' off the deep end. You're all he knows, all that makes sense to him, and with you gone..." His eyes turned red as he held back his tears, "I-I'm not sayin' he's gonna do anythin', Peach, but everythin' with Mikey's still so fresh... I just - I can't go through this again. Can't lose another Berzatto."

You frowned, understanding now why he appeared so frazzled.

"Carmy's not Mikey, Richie, okay?" You reminded him softly, reaching for his hand; leaving your extended to reach him, "And you're not gonna lose any more of us, you hear me?" You gave a squeeze, "I'll talk to him."

"Really?"

"I will," you assured softly, seeing the single tear drop from his waterline when he bowed his head and sniffled harshly. "Hey, Richie...? Do you, maybe, wanna bring some flowers to Mikey today? Think you wanna visit?"

He shrugged, "Maybe..."

"Maybe it'll be nice," you assured calmly. "It rained a few days ago, so, the ground won't be too soggy anymore, but the grass will be lush and green - hydrated and shit."

"Right," he chuckled, nodding, "yeah, okay, maybe that'll be nice, yeah, you're right."

"Maybe Carmy could use a visit, too."

"He won't go."

You nodded, "I know, but sometimes it's nice to just have the offer."

Richie agreed, downing the last of his black coffee. "All right," he cleared his throat, "let's go - you wearin' that?"

"What?"

"You gonna wear that? To go talk to Carmy?"

"It's not even seven in the morning!"

"He's at the restaurant," Richie shrugged. "Dude doesn't leave. C'mon, he needs a nap or somethin'."

You groaned, knowing he wouldn't leave unless you left with him. So, you got ready quickly while he sat at your desktop computer; playing Facebook's FarmVille - the same you left your little cousins to play when they needed distracted. He was enraptured by the adorable virtual sheep, laughing to himself as he learned the ropes of the game; and when you were ready, you had time to fill a to-go tumbler of coffee while he signed off.

When you arrived at The Beef, it was still closed for the morning prep; and inside, chaos rained in a fury of angry voices. You listened to Carmy snap at Marcus about something petty, going as far as to slap a pastry out of his hand as they argued in one another's faces with ignited passion.

"Ooookay," you moved through the kitchen and got between the two men, hands on Carmy's chest, "that's enough, Chef, hey, hey, hey, c'mon, walk away - just walk away, Carmy, don't do this. Hey, hey, don't do this, c'mon, just step off - walk away with me, please. Please, Carmy, hey, hey, step off, walk away with me, please."

"Fuck you doin' here, Peach?" He asked with red, swollen eyes. He looked sullen; pale between the angry red blotches to his skin, bags under his tired eyes, looking worn out and thinner than you remembered.

"Yeah, hey, hey, we'll talk about that, c'mon, outside, outside, outside," you directed him, sighing at the sight of the splattered pastry you were forced to step over. "I'm so sorry, Marcus," you whispered, seeing him nod and wave you off as you and Carmy pushed outside into the alley.

The door shut behind you, making Carmy snarl, "What the fuck, Peach - "

"No, I think that's better asked to you," you snapped. "The hell's wrong with you? Yellin' at Marcus like that? You know how rude it is to slap shit outta anyone's hand?"

He paced in anger, wiping a hand down his face; circling his mouth with his fingers, eyes ringed with red, hair greasy and tossed in a mess. His pants looked baggy, his shirt wrinkled, stained, and dirty with sweat marks.

"What're you doin' here?" He asked in a pant, hands going to his slender hips, head shaking as his tear-filled eyes avoided yours.

"Carmy, we need to talk."

"No shit," he breathed, scoffing after and widening his pace.

"Hey, Carmy, hey, hey," you reached for him, taking both his wrists in your grasp so he had to face you. "I need you to pause for me, please, hey," you stepped in his way when he tried to move. "Carmy, you're no good to anyone when you're like this - least of all yourself. So, I need you to talk - "

"You left," he panicked, pulling back to start pacing again. "You left - you left me. We got in a fight and you left, you fucking left. You walked away and you left me."

"Carmy, we got in more than a fight," you sighed. "You lashed out at me, then turned avoidant, and I don't linger where I'm not wanted."

"How can you think that?" He demanded, still pacing. "That you're not wanted by me? That you're not welcome, what? In my life? At my side? With me? Baby - of course, you are!"

"You didn't exactly make me feel any different," you pointed out sharply. "Carmy, can you please fucking pause for me so we can talk this out - "

"I know I fucked up," he ranted to himself, huffing and puffing as his emotion strangled him. "I know I did, I kept - I couldn't - I fucked up. I know I did. I couldn't get my head outta my ass," he listed, pacing as he panted when panic took hold of his being, "and I hurt you, and it was like I had to keep hurting you because I couldn't be alone in what I felt and I couldn't exactly figure out what the fuck I was feeling - I just needed you to hurt, too."

"Carmy," you sighed patiently.

"And I couldn't stop, I just kept going, and when I realized how bad I made it, I couldn't fucking stop - I needed y-yo-you t-to know what I felt, but I couldn't find the words. I-I hate that I did that, I-I fucking hurt you and I made this so much worse than it ever had t-to be, and I fucking know, Peach, okay? I know you're not clingy, you were just loving me. Y-You were loving me, you were using your own love languages, and I felt y-you so fuckin' close to me, and freaked out - I just - I just don't know why. I just - I panicked, I couldn't stop whatever I felt, and I'm so sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, wiping his cheeks as the tears started. "I-I-I'm so sorry, Peach, I couldn't control myself and I-I hate that I hurt you, and I know I don't deserve your understanding, but I just - I couldn't stop - "

"Carmy," you stepped directly in his footpath; needing to seize hold of his swollen biceps to catch his movements as he all but barreled right into you, "I need you to breathe."

"Nah, I'm okay - "

"No, you're not," you spoke sternly, shaking your head. "Baby," you eased your tone to a softer tone, seeing a glimmer of hope spark in his baby blues, "I need you to take a breath and remain in the present with me, okay? Just stand here with me," you watched as he blinked a couple of times; reaching out to hold your waist tentatively. "And stay in the present, okay? Stay here with me."

"I'm so sorry, Peach," he whispered, stepping closer so he could feel your breasts against his chest; caging you with his arms. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I didn't - I didn't know what the fuck I was even trying to fight with you about. You're not clingy - you're not any of the things I said, I didn't mean it - any of it."

"Calling me desperate?"

"I didn't mean any of it."

"A bitch?"

"Please," he whispered, bringing you in closer so he could rest his forehead on yours. "Don't repeat it, I know what I said, and I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm goin' crazy without yah, Peach. I need my best girl, and I don't deserve you, but I fuckin' need you." He sniffled, pulling back to caress your cheek, whispering, "I need you, Peach, you're the only thing that I know - the only thing I can understand, that makes sense to me. I think I just felt stressed and overwhelmed, I wasn't sure what to do - I couldn't find the words, I'm so sorry."

You nodded slowly, "I think we can work through this."

"I don't deserve you."

"Maybe not, but you have me anyway," you whispered, bringing his forehead to your own again. "But you can't do this again, taking anger out on me when I haven't done anything."

"Never again," he sighed, now nestling into your neck for comfort; arms tightening so you were the closest you could be with your head bent to keep his head caressed with yours.

"I don't think we can say 'never', but we can make an effort to leave work stress at work, right?" You whispered softly, letting one around coil around him to keep him close; the other caressing his jaw. "You don't get to treat me like that," you reminded him, "because I'm on your side, Carmy, I'm not the enemy."

"I know," he squeezed you tight.

"And the people doing their jobs are not the enemy," you smirked.

"I know," he chuckled lightly. "I owe Marcus an apology..."

"I'm sure you owe it to the others, too," you mused, holding his cheek as you turned your head to kiss his forehead. "Promise me we're done with that reactive bullshit. It doesn't make navigating a relationship easier on us."

"We're done, we're so fuckin' done with that shit," he whispered, deflating into your embrace as you held him close. "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am."

"I know," you comforted softly. "I forgive you."

"I don't deserve it."

"Hey, hey, this self-deprecating stunt has to end, too. We've gotta go forward with at least some confidence if we're gonna figure this out together."

He nodded, pulling back but keeping hold of your waist. "I am confident about this... About you - about us."

"Hmm?" You gently pushed a few stray curls from his forehead.

"Move in with me - officially."

Your face contorted in mild disappointment, "Oh, Carmen - "

"No, no," he rushed, sighing as his hand flattened on your jaw and cheek again, "just listen to me. I've wanted to ask you for a long time, okay? I've wanted this for - like - fucking years. Hear me? I just," he sighed, "I wasn't sure how to ask. I want this for us, I want us to be together, okay? Officially. I-I want us living together, Peach, okay? I want to come home and just - I want you there. I want all of you," he frowned, tears swelling again, "and all your shoes in the foyer, hair in the shower drain, perfume on the counter, and every-single-way you know how to love me. I was wrong to say you were clingy - and everything else I said. Baby, the last couple weeks, I've felt so fucking empty, so lonely and - just - cold. I've been cold without you. I need you, Peach, I need you with me, and I need you to be exactly you - no holding back. Because you're exactly who I need to love me, I'm so sorry I fucked that up before."

"Carmy."

He frowned, "I'm sorry."

"I know," you smirked, "and I forgive you. But you know it's gonna take more than a few pretty words and some tears, right?"

He nodded, "Anything to make this work again."

You sighed in patience, "Go say your apologies to the others, we've got t'make a stop before going back to yours - and you're going to take a fucking nap."

"I'm fine - "

"Look me in my eye and try to tell me in the past 72 hours, you've had decent, restful sleep."

He frowned, opening his mouth a few times but then sighing. "You know I can't," he whispered.

"Exactly why we're going back to yours."

Carmy paused, brows furrowing as if a thread pulled them together. He asked softly, "Is that a no to us... Living together? Is that why you're calling it 'my' place?"

You offered him a look of patience and leaned in to peck his lips for a few prolonged seconds, promising, "There's your apartment, there's my apartment, and then there's gonna be our apartment. Somewhere that's just ours, 100% us." His mouth stretched in a grin, so you swiftly cut him off, "But you have to ask me again when you've got restful sleep under your belt. I want you clear headed when you make this kinda decision."

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed. "Where're we goin' before?"

You swallowed nervously, telling him softly, "You absolutely do not have to go with us, but I think Richie could use a visit out to Mikey's grave. I said I'd take him with some flowers, but you do not have to get out to go with us - not if you're not ready."

He blinked a few times, rolling his lips between his teeth as his eyes dropped from yours. You were about to coo his name and assure him again, when he nodded at you and tried to half-smile. "Okay," he breathed.

"Okay?"

"Mhm. I'll, uh... M-Maybe I can, just, hang back in the car."

"Sure, baby, whatever you're comfortable with," you whispered, leaning in to peck his forehead. "You good?"

"I will be."

"Mhm," you hummed, caressing his cheek again before pushing your hand into his curls. "Now, let's get a move on - I want you to march in there, say you're sorry to your Chefs, and then we'll leave."

"Yes, ma'am," Carmy whispered, leaning in to kiss you - but you pulled back.

"Aht," you halted him with a teasing finger to his lips, "after we've got everything worked out, then you can kiss me."

"You got t'kiss me," he mumbled against your finger; making you hum as you fought off a stretching smile, and lower your hand.

"Fair point - just one then - "

He cut you off by, indeed, pressing a single kiss to your lips, but not pulling back. His hand raised to hold the back of your head, your lips spreading in a grin against his; finding rhythm to move together before pausing to press in prolonged passion.

When he pulled back, you both paused to smile, and when you tried to peck his lips again, he pulled back, teasing, "Aht, just the one."

"Oh, fuck you," you laughed lightly, letting him take your hand before leading you back into the kitchen. The other Chefs lingered, sparing you and Carmy a few nervous glances, making you whisper in his ear as you squeezed his hand, "Go ahead, baby, get it done."

He nodded and called the kitchen to attention, clearing his throat, and beginning to make his apologies. He singled out Marcus, then Sydney, Richie, and Sugar; the kitchen staff all accepting his words and insisting he could take the day off - even the next few days if he wanted! You had to usher him to grab his things a few times, nudging him in reminder and verbally pushing him back into action. That boy's ADHD would truly be the death of him.

"So?" Richie smirked at you as Marcus handed you a packaged box of pastries.

"We're talking it out."

He chuckled, "Good. Get him outta here, Peach, dude needs to breathe."

"I got it," you swatted him away as Carmy exited the office. "But we've got somewhere to be first, right?"

He paused, then nodded and asked in a mutter, "He said okay?"

"He's got time to decide what he wants to do, but he knows we're going. C'mon, get your coat."

Richie met you at the front of the restaurant and with a parting wink to Sugar, you took Carmy's hand, tangled your fingers together, and left to venture to your parked car. Carmy got in the front, Richie in the back, and after a stop at a corner bodega to grab three bouquets of flowers, you drove to the cemetery. Carmy was silent, no music played, and Richie's leg bounced in anxious tension; making small conversation with you about your job in an effort to distract himself.

When you arrived, you pulled up on the access road that you knew was closest to Mikey's grave. Richie spared a glare between you and Carmy before muttering that he needed a cigarette and got out of the car to leave you alone. "Baby?" You whispered, reaching for his hand. "Hey, look, if you don't want to go with us, it's okay. We won't be long... But maybe you want to sign this," you showed him the small, blank name card left in the flowers.

"Why?" He whispered.

You shrugged, "So he knows they're from you."

"Peach," he sighed, meeting your eyes.

"Baby, I know it's silly, I know it's easier to ignore it all. But I'd like to believe it's just a nice gesture for our own closure - it's a signed gift from us, to them... And maybe it's nice to pretend that wherever they are, they know what we've left for them."

Carmy nodded slowly, "I-I don't think... I don't think I can go..."

"It's okay, baby," you whispered.

"But," he sniffled, opening his hand to you, "I'll sign it, if you'll leave it for me?"

"Of course," you rushed, opening your purse to producing a pen for him. The clank card rest on the center console of your car, pausing, swallowing nervously, then scribbling his name as he cleared his throat. He offered you the pen, waited until it was put away, then offered the flowers. "Hang tight, we won't be too long," you whispered, leaning in to rest your forehead. "You okay?"

He nodded, pecking your forehead before letting you get out of the car. You handed Richie his own flowers with a signed card, holding your own and Carmy's; linking arms with Rich to venture up the small grass hill and moved about halfway down the cemetery plot line. When you came to his stone, you understood this was what Rich needed more than you, so, you knelt and laid the two bouquets down before starting to quickly groom the area around his tombstone.

You told him, "I'm sorry it's not much, but I'll be back later for a picnic and a chat. I brought you flowers from me a-and from Carmy. He's in the car, but he's here, Mikey... Give him time," you whispered, brushing dirt from the stone before standing. "Take your time," you told Richie softly, seeing the tears gather in his eyes.

"Thanks, Peach," he whispered, offering you a tight hug. When you pulled back and started to walk away, Richie lowered himself to kneel and lay his own flowers down; hearing him tell Mikey, "Don't gotta worry 'bout us, Mike-Man, Peach is the glue that keeps us together. Shit, she even got Carmy out here..."

You made it back to the car and got in, smiling at Carmy - but dropping it the instant you saw tears in his eyes. "Talk to me," you whispered, reaching for a wet wipe in your glovebox to clean your hands after plucking the grass and brushing off dirt from the grave.

"Why can't I get out?"

You only stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say.

"I'm here... I'm finally here... Why can't I get out?"

"You're not ready," you nodded, tossing the wipe aside to a plastic bag. "It's okay, Carmy, it's okay to not be ready yet. We can come back when you are," you reached for his hand.

"I think this added to my frustration," he admitted. "I couldn't... I didn't go to the funeral, haven't been here since he was... You know."

"Laid to rest."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Fuck's wrong with me?"

"You're grieving," you relented, nuzzling closer so your head rested on his shoulder. "It's not linear, Carmy, baby, just let yourself feel. When you try to repress your emotions, you lash out inappropriately."

"I know," he whispered, "'M sorry."

"It's not your fault," you promised, the two of you quietly bowing your heads together. You remained as such until Richie got back in the car, and from there, it was quiet as everyone stewed in their own emotion. You dropped Rich back at work before promising to call him later and driving away; heading for Carmy's apartment in the soothing silence, his hand locked in yours.

When you arrived at his apartment, you froze upon seeing the interior's state. "Oh, Carmy, no," you whispered, frowning deeply.

"Looks worse than it is," he deflected. You only hummed and let him lead you to the bedroom; watching him strip and prepare for bed before joining you on the mattress. He crashed almost immediately, sighing in relief as he pecked over your shoulder and collarbone, muttering, "'M so glad you're back. 'M so sorry, Peach."

"I know you are, and I forgive you," you told him softly, carding a manicured hand through his hair. "Just get some rest, baby."

He was asleep nearly instantly. He deflated on top of you, deeply resting enough to not notice you slip out from under him. You cleaned his entire apartment; doing laundry, cleaning, scrubbing, replacing necessities he deemed himself too lazy to pay attention to. You did dishes, cleaned out his fridge, and as you mopped up the floors, the sun set and Carmy emerged from the bedroom.

"Baby?" He mumbled in earnest confusion, sighing in relief when he saw you.

"What? Afraid I disappeared on you?" You teased with a small grin.

"For sure," he mumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes; making your amusement dim when you realized the nerve it struck. "The hell you doin'?"

"You didn't seriously think I could rest knowing this monster of a clean-up job lingered out here, did you?"

"I don't want you t'clean after me."

"Well, too late," you smirked. "You good now?"

"I feel better, yeah."

"Good."

"And I made up my mind."

"Hmm? About what?"

"I'm gonna take some time off work," he nodded, "and focus on us. Get us in a new crib, it'll be nice."

"Think you can handle that?"

He nodded, "I'll have to, you're the most important thing in my life, I can't lose you. So, if I gotta take time off, that's the least of my worries. I'm only here for us, for you."

You smiled at him, setting the mop aside to wrap him in your arms. "I like the sound of that, us making a home together - being able to decorate a new home. But don't let me overdo it, okay? I get all excited and kinda bulldoze my way through projects. I don't want you t'find real reason t'resent me."

"Nah, that ain't possible," he promised quietly.

True to his word, Carmy took three solid weeks off; agreeing to a fourth week as a contact-only consultant. You and he slept in most days, looking at apartments, and not once did he even mention work. He was diligent in his attention, focused on you and you alone; putting in overtime to rebuild that what was broke by focusing on shared interests again. You found a place you loved ready for what was basically immediate move-in, taking time to pack your respected places and prepare for the official start of your cohabitating relationship.

You didn't forget what he said, being reserved in your displays of love. Yet Carmy was different; he was totally clingy the moment you returned to his life. He feared letting you go meant you'd disappear again, feared you'd run away again. He held your hand at every possible opportunity, got you a fresh bouquet of weekly flowers, ran all his errands with you; never went to bed without you, cooked all meals with you in the kitchen - perched up on a counter. Most showers you took together, and almost every night was spent cuddling on the couch or in bed with either a book being shared between you or a new show playing on the mounted flatscreen TV.

Carmy clung because he thought if he showed you acts of his love, it'd allow comfort towards your loving behavior to flourish again - and he was right. It took a little bit of time, but Carmy clung tighter and tighter; ensuring you started to reciprocate before ever easing up in the intensity of his affectionate displays. He didn't want to overwhelm you, but knew you needed the reassurance.

You were cautious, you were apprehensive; tiptoeing around Carmy even when living together before warming back up to him. You didn't need to repeat the words he hurled at you all those weeks ago, not wanting to dredge up repressed feelings, but never letting him forget what he said. Your actions spoke enough, skittish around his affection; something Carmy took note of and despised himself for. He made up for it, of course he did, it was Carmy and he hated tension and conflict in his closest circles of life. Yet it wasn't so easy for you two to move forward, they weren't just words to you.

They were direct insults to you as a person; to you and how you loved others. Carmy had seen your deepest fear and used it as a defense against you - wanting you to hurt the way he was, too. He understood this wasn't acceptable, knowing the next time he resorted to such despicable actions, you'd simply walk away; never dealing with disrespect, so, he needed to be acutely aware of his words.

You would never allow yourself to be someone else's doormat, but part of being an adult is understanding that people were allowed to make mistakes - it's part of being fucking human. How terrible you'd feel if someone held your own mistakes against you, because the truth was, you weren't perfect either.

Part of being in a(n adult) relationship is understanding when someone apologized, it was best to accept and move on because nothing was ever solved by dragging turmoil out. This didn't mean forget what happened, forget whatever emotion was evoked - but to do your part to repair what was broken; no matter who was at fault, it always took Two to Tango.

And in this song and dance, you were ready to sweep around the dance floor if only with Carmy. Because that's what a relationship was; a conscious effort by both partners to work as one, to dance in-sync; owning the art together, as equal partners.

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My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one my, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 5,818

Warning: dirty talk, language, making out, wedding duties (lol), oral sex, smutty smut

A/N: Our final part 🥹💚 wow what a journey! There will be an epilogue for our sweet beans next week! Along with the start of the Best Friend!Suguru series.I'm so sorry for the late post, I was so sick yesterday and sleepy from my medication! But better late than never! ! If you want to be included in the tag list, YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Eight

For two days, two days, you and Satoru spent most of the time in your room. Wrapped up in your sheets, him on top of you, you on top of him. You only separated for the rehearsal dinner and getting your nails done. But the second you were back in his arms, he made up for the lost time like you had been gone for years. His lips were on yours in slow, gentle kisses that became passionate.

Those same kisses would end on the futon, which probably had seen more action in the last forty-eight hours than since the inn opened. Satoru bent you in all different positions, twisting you like a pretzel, stretching you in ways you didn't even know was possible. He made it his goal to make up for the year and a half that you didn’t sleep with anyone. Gojo Satoru turned you into a mess- a withering mess.

“Oooh holy shit.” you cried out, gripping the blanket, “fuuuuck oooh fuck Satoru.”

“Yeah~? Does that feel good~?”

“S-So good~!”

“Mhmm~ good.”

Fingers moved gently, expertly making your back arch, jaw opening in a soft cry of pleasure. Satoru bit his lip, his fingers increasing the pressure against you. Cerulean eyes narrowed, focusing on your face, watching how your eyes rolled back and your face flushed.

“T-Toru~Toru.” Toes curled as you cried softly, eyes watering.

“Oooh yeah~ you gonna cum~?”

Blinking, you lift an eyebrow, watching Satoru wiggle his at you. His fingers are massaging into your sore feet, kneading away knots and easing the aching muscles. Both of you were fully clothed, sitting on the back porch overlooking the gardens. Anyone around would have assumed you both were doing the deed from how loud you were being.

“Oh my god, was I being that loud?”

“What~? No!” You relaxed a little, your feet still in his lap. Thumbs worked at a particularly sore spot, making you whine again. “I’m pretty sure Suguru heard that whine, and he's in Tokyo.”

“Ya’ know what—”

You try pulling your feet away, only to have Satoru yank them back into his lap, inadvertently pulling you closer to him. “Stop, I'm just teasing. Let me do this.” his fingers continue working, moving gently over your feet. “You were in the kitchen all morning, making a three-tier wedding cake. Then those ‘friends’ of yours make you wear heels to take pictures. And you have to wear heels for the wedding tomorrow?” Satoru shook his head, white tufts of hair swaying.

“I offered to bake the cake, the benefit of having a baker as a friend.” His thumbs hit a sore spot, making you jolt. “But the heels are torture.”

“They seem like it.”

A soft, comfortable silence filled with chirping crickets and a distant wind chime grew between you. You just sat there while Satoru rubbed at your sore feet under the blanket of glittering stars. You had one more day together here in Kyoto, then a train ride back home, and you would be back to reality. A reality that had changed drastically over the last week.

When you both retired to your room, you lay in bed staring at the ceiling in thought. You had gone from a woman who was quiet, shy, and hell-bent on not needing anyone to this giggly, joyful woman who couldn’t be any happier. Satoru had peeled away at the layers of scar tissue you had hidden yourself in. He brought a certain confidence out in you. Being with him was as easy as breathing; even when you returned home to your mundane lives, you had faith you both would continue to strive forward. To keep your relationship going strong.

Strong as the urge to stay in bed with him all day despite your fellow bridesmaids pounding on your door the next morning. Satoru grumbled in horny frustration; his cock was pressed firmly over your barely clothed core. You pulled your lips away from his neck, pushing your hair back, groaning at the sudden interruption.

“I have to go, Toru.” You pulled off of him, giggling as he threw his head back. “Hey~ don’t be like that; we’ll pick up where we left off tonight.”

“Wedding sex is the best kind of sex. Especially when you’re on a sugar rush.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, grinning ear to ear. “That sounds enticing.” Satoru sat up on his elbows, licking his lips.

“Oh, it’s gonna happen tonight,” Satoru promised with a shake of his head. “I promise you that.”

Another knock at the door, “If you don’t come out! We’re coming in! Regardless of how indecent you two are!” A series of knocks sounded from the other side of the door by several different hands from the sound of it.

”I better go before they knock down the door.” With a pout, you leaned down, kissing Satoru goodbye before heading out. “I’ll see you later!” just before you shut the door to the room, you pouted as Satoru watched, sticking his bottom lip out. “It’s just three hours, babe!”

Three hours flew by before you knew it. The excitement of getting ready for the wedding and seeing your best friend practically buzzing in anticipation fueled everyone's energy. While you were bouncing up and down eagerly waiting to see Satoru in a tailored suit. Just imagining him had you grinning as you stared out the bridal suite window, looking towards the garden decorated for the joyous event.

“So, when are you and Satoru getting married?”

”Eh!?” All of your friends surrounded you, devilish smiles gracing their faces. “I-I—we are not getting married!” At least not yet. “We’ve barely started going out.” Literally. “There’s no indication that we're even considering that!”

“Oh, please!”

“Says the girl that’s been locked in her room with said boyfriend for the last two days!”

Your face burned like a fresh sunburn. “S-So! That does not mean that we’re getting married anytime soon!” All of your friends booed in protest. “Will the whole lot of you stop? Seriously, I don’t want you guys scaring off Satoru!” The bride stepped forward in her gown and all of her glory. “Finally, Mina, will you please talk some sense into them!?” Your best friend looked amongst the other girls, all dressed in a beautiful sky blue. For a moment, you thought she might take your side. But the second a smirk at the corner of her mouth, you knew she didn’t have your back.

“I was going to ask you the same question! The man would’ve fucked you against the wall at the bar no one stopped him!”

“Oh my God!”

“I’m serious! I think I’ll hand you the bouquet when I toss it!”

“Please don’t.”

“Oh, I think I will!”

“We are not getting married—not yet!”

Satoru sat off to the side, right next to your parents, as the wedding started. He watched with wide and sparkling eyes as you walked down the aisle with a groomsman. Your hair was styled beautifully, and the flowing sky-blue dress looked stunning on your figure and complimented your skin tone. His mouth felt suddenly dry as you looked at him, giving him a gentle, sweet smile. Cupid himself must have shot him through the heart at that moment because fuck, he was falling so hard for you.

“Ma’am—“ he learned next to your mother's ear, “just so you know, the next wedding we host here will be ours.”

“Huh?!”

Her reaction didn’t even seem to faze him. All he cared about was standing near the front of an outdoor arch decor with flowers of different colors—a gentle breeze brushed by you, making your hair and the dress flow. Even when the bride made her grand entrance, everyone turned to see her walking down the aisle towards her future husband. Satoru had his eyes locked on you.

You could feel his eyes, and that burning sensation had your focus transfixed on him. Was it wrong to be looking at your wedding date instead of the bride-to-be? The chances of that were very likely. But how could you not stare back? When his eyes burned holes into your very soul and left your heart racing like you had just run a marathon. It was impossible to pay attention to anyone else.

He was so handsome. Satoru was wearing a white button-down shirt with a blue tie that matched your dress. His navy blue jacket and pants were tailored to his body perfectly. You could tell by its appearance that it was expensive. It was probably more expensive than your best friend's wedding dress. You wanted to rip it off of him and let him take you right there in the garden.

Yes, he was extremely good-looking. But it wasn’t his clothes or his appearance or the fact that he had money that made you so attracted to him at that moment. The way he looked at you, eyes trailing over your body, with a soft grin, told you everything you needed to know. Satoru truly cared for you. This wasn’t just about sex, and it wasn’t the magic of the wedding to be. Chemistry, connection, and attraction were one hundred percent genuine.

After exchanging vows and rings, hundreds of pictures were taken with everyone. You were finally free from your wedding duties. The first thing you did as soon as you broke away from the rest of the group was run to Satoru’s side. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you tight to his chest. Lips pressed against the temple of your head, and you could’ve sworn he let out a little sigh of happiness to have you back in his arms.

“You look so fucking beautiful.” He cupped a strand of hair behind your ear before gently reaching down, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Is it wrong for me to say you’re even more beautiful than the bride?”

“Satoru!” you playfully punched at his shoulder, “I am not.”

“Oh, you are; that’s a god-given fact, sweetheart.” His thumbs brushed ever so lovingly over your cheek. “But there’s just one thing I would change about the outfit.”

“You and me both.” You winced, moving your arm away from the scratchy sequins top. “This material is an absolute nightmare for my underarms. I’m serious. You’ll probably have to put lotion on them for me later.”

“Oh.” Satoru deadpans. “ I wasn’t talking about the material.”

You hum in thought, looking over the dress for any flaws he may have noticed. “Oh?” When you didn’t find anything else wrong with the dress in your eyes, you tilted your head, looking up at Satoru. “Well, what would you change about it then?” His hand gently pulled your face closer to his own; he leaned down, the fresh smell of minty lemonade coaxing your nostrils.

“I’d change the color.”

“Wait, what?”

Your date says nothing for a beat of silence. “So anyways! Let’s grab our seats; I’ll get you one of the cocktails!”

He rambles on while you’re still stuck on how he would change the color of your dress. Surely, he meant he would do a different shade or maybe red instead of blue; there’s no possible way that he was talking about it to white. Yeah, he didn’t mean that at all! Your friends just put the stupid notion in your head that you guys are going to get married next. You didn’t even know what the two of you were yet. You hadn’t put a label on your relationship.

What you did know was that Satoru wanted to make your relationship work. So you knew for sure that you weren’t just another fuck buddy or client. This went deeper than that. What you both had was real, which was a lot more than other couples had. So who knew, maybe your friends were right? Perhaps Satoru had thought that white would make your dress look one million times better.

These were questions and answers for another day. You weren’t going to rush into things. Both of you wanted to take your time and get to know one another.

And you learned a lot of things about him as the party began. Like how he despised the taste of alcohol, he had mentioned it in passing when he walked you to the bachelorette party. But when he accidentally took a sip of a cocktail unintentionally, not knowing it had alcohol in it, the man sputtered and choked. His hands grabbed a cola from the bartender, chugging it like water. You learned that he was a pretty good dancer. He bumped and ground with you on the dance floor while the music blared. You learned how gentle his hands were as he slowly danced with you to one of the many love songs the DJ played.

He was so tentative to you. He’d always make sure you had a drink of some kind. He insisted that you drink plenty of water to avoid getting drunk. He even went to the room and grabbed your sandals when your high heels bothered you. God, he was everything and then some. If you hadn’t called for each other, he truly would have made this wedding a lot of fun for you. There was no doubt that he was worth every penny you were willing to spend to have a good time.

The party has toned down almost entirely, a few stragglers drunkenly laughing and drinking while others chat while eating the vanilla and raspberry compote cake you had made. Your best friend and her husband are one of two couples on the floor dancing to a slow song. The other was Satoru and the flower girl who had been smitten with his white hair and blue eyes. She was convinced he was Prince charming and begged him to dance with her. Satoru jumped at the opportunity. Gently placing her little feet on top of his shoes as he danced with her to the slow beat of the music.

Your gaze was locked on him as you nursed a cup of coffee between your hands. He was so perfect in every way, shape, and form. Satoru had made this one of the best nights of your entire life. God, you don’t think you’ve ever had so much fun at a wedding before. It was all thanks to him that you were having one of the most memorable nights of your life.

Those deep, happy thoughts are cut short when a tiny, chubby hand gently smacks your cheek. The sudden contact has you jumping, nearly spilling the hot coffee over your hands as you turn to see who has smacked you. You’re met with beautiful, big navy-colored eyes—dark tufts of hair spill over the head as the baby gently smacks your cheek again.

“Please don’t hit me, I have my kid.” a familiar voice speaks, “and don’t yell, please.”

You scoff, cocking an eyebrow up at Toji as he sits down in the chair next to you. “Are you seriously using your kid as a human shield?” Your ex shakes his head before looking over his shoulder, searching for someone.

“I cannot confirm nor deny that.” He cradles the babbling baby in his lap. “But if my wife is around, I will deny every word.”

“So you are using your child as a human shield.”

“Well, it’s working, isn’t it?”

“What do you want, Toji?”

He cradles his son in one arm, reaching into his suit jacket with his free hand. Toji pulls out a manila envelope and places it in front of you. Gingerly, taking it off the table, you open it and find the money you had left in the kitchen the other day. The money he almost ruined your relationship with Satoru over and the money you’d spent on him

He exhales deeply through his nose before clearing his throat. “What I did was wrong.” His son babbles, chubby little hands pulling the sleeve of his jacket. “I just wanted to apologize for everything that happened. I broke your heart, not once but twice. You, of all people, don’t deserve to be treated like that.” You cock an eyebrow. “And no, I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I just wanted to say that I was sorry. For breaking off our engagement the way that I did. For almost sabotaging your relationship with that brat over there.” His head jerks in Satoru’s direction.

“Yeah, you almost fucked that up for me.”

“Well, luckily, you guys worked it out.”

“Yeah, we did.” For the first time all week, you don’t feel the slightest bit of dread being near Toji. Maybe it was because you slapped the shit out of him, or perhaps it was because you felt as though your last confrontation was able to heal your wounds. “He’s a great guy.”

“Great for an escort.”

“Former escort.” You correct him with a smug smile. “Satoru sent in his resignation letter on Thursday after we talked.”

Toji’s eyes went wide before they softened with a gentle gaze that you hadn’t seen since high school. “Well shit, I guess I had him pegged wrong.” Taking another sip of your coffee, you giggle before resting your chin on your fist.

“I thought you said you were the greatest PI.”

“Nah, I’m one of the best.” Toni leans back, and in this light, you can see the slight discoloration on his face from both you and Satoru’s hits the other day. “I’m far from being the greatest. I wasn’t for you, but—“ he pressed his lips against his son’s head. “I’m trying to be a better person for this brat and my wife.”

“You always were an asshole.” Your point-blank statement had him wincing. “But if you hadn’t been an asshole, I wouldn’t have become the person I am today. So thanks for being a dick.”

Toji tilts his head, chuckling. “You’re welcome, I guess.” A squealing babble has both you and Toji glancing down at his son. He gently gums at his father’s jacket, drooling over the fabric. Toji sighs and gently lifts the baby to stare at him. When he does, those navy blue eyes glance towards his chest that's straining against the fabric. His son smacks his lips in hunger. “Fuck, I gotta find my wife; the little shits hungry again. And I’d rather not have him gnawing at my pecs.” He stands and pauses before turning his child to face you.

The tiny human gurgles at you, tilting his head. “Uhm, Toji, I can’t feed him.” Your ex rolls his eyes so hard you can almost hear it.

“Yeah, I fuckin’ know, I just—“ he sighs, “this is my son, Fushiguro Megumi.” You can’t help but smile at his name; a blessing.

“Well, hello there, Megumi.” You gently pet his hair back. “It’s nice to meet you; whatever you do, don’t turn out to be like your father.”

Toji barks out a sharp laugh, nodding his head. “Yeah, that’s for sure.” Megumi laughs loudly, smacking his hands against your face.

“Toji!” Both of you turn to see a woman with dark hair waving at him.

“That’s the wife, we’re leaving.” He cradles Megumi into his side ever so gently. “I’m sorry again for all the shit I put you through in the past and well in the last week.”

“Well, all that shit led me to someone pretty great.” Your eyes drift back to Satoru, who's walking the little girl back to her parents. “All those years of putting up with you gave me some good karma.”

“For putting up with me, you deserve the world.” He scoffs hurriedly to join his wife. “Later.”

You wave goodbye to him, returning to your cup just as Satoru joins you. Two plates with cake in his hands. “Was that Toji!?” His ocean eyes meet yours, searching for any sign or tears of frustration. “The hell did he want?” He shoves the sweet cake into his mouth before offering you a bite, which you eagerly take.

“Mhm, he just wanted to give me the money he owed me.”

“What you should have given him was a knuckle sandwich.” Your soft giggle has butterflies swarming inside his stomach.

“I already gave him one, so I’ll gladly take the money this time.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He takes another bite of cake. “It would be a shame for you to bruise those knuckles again.”

You press your body against him, relishing in the warmth. “You know I don’t even care anymore. I got hurt in the past. I wallowed in my self-pity for over a year. But things are starting to look up for me now.” He hummed, turning to press a kiss against your forehead. “All thanks to my—“You hesitate, not sure if you want to be the one to put a label on your relationship.

“Boyfriend.” Satoru finishes for you, making your hearts swell with joy.

“Yes, my boyfriend.”

Satoru takes one last bite of his cake before wiping the mixture of whipped cream and buttercream off with his thumb. “Mmm, I love hearing you say that. It sounds so damn pretty rolling off your tongue.” You grinned, gently gripping his hand on your own, squeezing it as you stood.

“Wanna see what else I can do with my tongue~?”

Without hesitation, your boyfriend stands up from the table, following you down the hall. “Oooh? Is the sugar kicking in?” Satoru quickly takes the lead from you, dragging you down the hall and towards the guest rooms.

“It’s not just the sugar.” You correct him. “It’s you.”

The second you step into the room, and the door is slammed shut, Satoru’s on you, cupping your face, kissing you deeply with a guttural moan. You return the kiss, tasting the sweet, tangy remains of the cake on his tongue that worked its way into your mouth. You’re moaning, pushing his jacket off, letting it fall to the ground as you start working on the buttons of his shirt.

While you do that, Satoru runs his hands down your back, searching for a zipper or buttons, only to discover an intricate series of strings. He breaks the kiss, looking down at the saliva connecting your lips before he forces you to turn around so he can start working on the corset holding you hostage. His fingers struggle with the silky strings; he’s far too excited to sit down and take the necessary time to care for this.

“Hey, sweetheart, this isn’t a rental, is it?”

”No, I wish it was; I seriously haye the sequins, Toru.” You huff out, feeling his hands gently grip both sides of the back of the dress.

”So you wouldn’t be heartbroken if anything were to happen to it?”

”No, I guess I woul—“ RIIIP!! “Oh fuck!” You tumble as Satoru uses all of his strength to rip down the back of the dress—the thin fabric pools around your feet before Satoru turns you back to face him. The second you do, he drops to his knees in front of you and kisses down your bare chest, all the way to your lace panties. “S-Satoru~”

“Mmm, I wanna show you what I can do with my tongue.” He states flatly before tugging your panties down. “I get to eat two sweet treats tonight. Your amazing cake and your delicious pussy.”

His tongue instantly slides over your clit, making you grip his hair for support in fear that you are going to buckle over. Your hand grips the soft strands of hair, winning the softest of groans from him. While your fingers run through his hair, only make him move his tongue faster, with the sole purpose of making you cum.

Unfortunately for you, even if you were willing to hold off, Satoru is just too good at what he does. He teases your clit, going between gentle flicks, suckling on it, and writing his name against it with the tip of his tongue. His antics and techniques leave you nearly falling over, wishing you were on the futon. There was something about towering over him, though, bucking your pussy against his willing mouth that gave you a certain sense of empowerment.

You could see why men would like a woman on their knees. It was fun holding all of the power to make Satoru do what you wanted, to keep his face in place with you humping his tongue. You could have cum from just thinking of riding his face like this. Doing it though, fuck, it was so hot.

Satoru thought so, too; his jaw opened wide as he flattened his tongue, allowing you to use his mouth as you saw fit. His hand gently reached around, grabbing the fat of your ass, encouraging you to move and grind faster against him, wanting for you to cum. His squeezing you had your head falling forward, strands of your kiss-messy hair falling as you came hard, rolling your hips in time with the waves crashing over you. Satoru hummed happily, lapping up the juices you kindly offered him.

“Fuck, oooh fuck Satoru.” Your knees were buckling as he gently peppered hisses down your inner thighs. “I don’t think I can walk after that.”

”Hm? Oh, don’t worry about that.” He lifted you gently, placing you down on the futon. “I have a perfect place for you to sit.” You watched in awe as your boyfriend stripped out of his clothes and slipped on a condom before standing completely naked in front of you. “Now, what do you say,” Satoru laid down, grabbing your hips and pulling you to straddle him. “We pick up where we left off this morning before your friends rudely interrupted us.”

”Mmm, I love the sound of that.” Sitting back ever so slightly, you gently grabbed his cock, easing the thick throbbing tip inside of you. “Ah~ fuck I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how thick you are.” You cry out as you slowly begin to slide yourself down his shaft with a whimper.

”And I’ll never get over how tight and warm you are.” Large hands gently grip your hip, holding you as you sit down on him, his cock fully buried inside of you. “God, I can’t wait to feel how wet you are one of these days.” He hisses through his teeth as you slowly begin to rock back and forth on him. “Y-You fuck, sweetie, you feel so fucking good!”

“Yeah, so do you, Toru; I feel you getting bigger inside me.”

“And I can feel you clamping down.”

Knowing that he could feel just how good you were feeling was the only entice you needed to pick up your pace, your gentle rocks becoming a bit faster and harder as you gently began bouncing up and down on him. Your sudden increase in speed had Satoru choking on a raspy whine, his head tilting back as you placed your hands on his chest, steadying yourself. This position was one of your favorites. You were able to watch Satoru’s face contort with pleasure while his cock hit all the right places deep inside of you.

Satoru also loved this position because he got to see how relaxed you were, how he was able to grope your perfect tits, his thumbs brushing gently over your sensitive nipples. But his favorite thing about this position was being able to touch you. Not just your breasts, as great as those were. Running his large palms down your hips and over the top of your thighs, feeling your muscles twitch made happy, satisfied grunts leave his mouth. But it was when you interlace your fingers with his that got his heart pounding.

Your hips were moving faster, harder against him. Your smaller fingers held on to his for support, squeezing them gently as your tiny whines turned into desperate moans as your fucked yourself on him.

”Toru, oooh fuck~”

”Yeah, you close?” His fingers gave yours a gentle squeeze. “You gonna cum? Make me cum with you? I feel it coming back, god, I feel it; you’re going to make me cum so fucking hard.”

”Y-Yeah wanna make you cum, cum with me, Satoru, please I need it, need it so fucking bad.”

Satoru groaned, nodding his head as you slammed yourself up and down on him, his hips bucking up to meet you, fucking the tip of his cock directly into your cervix. You both are moaning so loud you know people will be calling the front desk to file a complaint, but you could care less about all of that. All that mattered right now was you and Satoru.

“Ooooh fuck me.” You cry out, releasing your boa constrictor grip on his hands, digging them into the bedding as you fall forward onto his chest. Your hips bounce up and down faster and harder, skin slapping against skin as your ass slams down. “Satoru, I’m gonna—“

”M-Me too, baby, holy fuck me too!” Satoru’s hands grip the sides of your hips, forcing you to move faster, which seems almost impossible. “Fuck, oooh fuck, fuck shit!” He’s gritting his teeth as you cry out into the side of his neck. “Oh, holy fuckin shit, baby! I’m cumming! Cumming inside you!”

With one final slam, both of your bodies go rigid as the orgasms hit you at the same time. Your pulsating walls have Satoru’s cock throbbing eagerly deep inside of you, filling the condom. Leaving both of you shaking, sweaty messes. Satoru recovers first, his hands gently caressing your sides as you lay all your weight on top of him. While you gently press open-mouthed kisses over his collarbone.

It isn’t until your muscles are protesting the position that you’re in that you finally move. Satoru helps you push off of him gently, laying you down next to his side. His fingers brush some of your hair back before he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. You kiss him back burying yourself into his chest as his hands gently move up and down your back.

“So, how was our first date?” The gentle tone of Satoru’s voice has you happily humming.

“One of the best dates I ever had in my entire life.”

“Yeah, I have to agree with you on that one.” His hand continued to rub up and down your back gently. “I can’t wait to go on another and another, and god, I just want to go on countless dates with you.” He waits for you to respond, to say anything. When you don’t say a word, he peers down, finding you sleepily snuggled against him. Your hard work from the last few days has finally caught up to you. “Get some sleep.” He whispered, disposing of the condom before pulling the sheet over your body as he shut his eyes, too, following you into a deep sleep.

The next day was a blur at the inn. From packing your bags, checking out, and bidding farewell to your parents before you at Satoru took the train back to Tokyo. Where you both leaned against each other, still tired from the last week and the wedding from the night before. You only fully regain consciousness when the train pulls up to your stop. You grab your bags in silence as you slowly leave the train.

It didn’t feel real that the week was finally over. That tonight would be the first night you would be alone in a week. Part of you dreaded the night you were about to spend alone in your apartment. But you didn’t want to be clingy and ask Satoru to stay the night.

While your relationship had been entirely out of order, you didn’t want to ruin it right when it began. There would be another time for Satoru to spend the night with you. You are almost certain he would love to go home to his apartment and unwind.

So you stopped in front of the coffee shop where you met each other for the first time. Turning around, you adjusted the backpack on your shoulder, winning a slightly confused look from your new boyfriend. Swallowing hard, you hugged him tight before pulling back.

“Thank you again for everything.” You wet your bottom lip with your tongue. “I can’t thank you enough. Text me later. Maybe we could meet up for coffee or dinner sometime this week. Go on our second date.”

Satoru said nothing for a moment as you fiddled with the handle of your suitcase. “Hey.” He finally broke the silence, his hand gently grabbing yours. “Would now be too soon to take you on our second date?” Light shimmered in your eyes as Satoru put his sunglasses on. “I know this great spot for brunch.” You felt your heart swell as he rubbed at his slightly slushed neck. “I just—I don’t want to say goodbye yet.” Round sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, revealing his breathtaking eyes. “But if you’re too tired or busy, later this week would be fine, I gue—” You reach up, pressing your index finger gently over his lips, silencing him.

“Brunch sounds great.”

“Great!” Satoru beams gently, interlocking your hands as you make your way up to the surface. “You’re going to love it.” You gently squeezed his hand as you stepped into the bustling streets of Tokyo. A week ago, you never would have thought the man you had hired to be your wedding date would be taking you out on your second date, hopefully leading to many more.

Tag List! (AGE MUST BE IN BIO!!)

@arminloverlol @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira @faeryminnyx @tqd4455 @harmonyflora @volkins181-blog @noukstmblr @lovley212 @stinkinstuffie @desihopelessromantic @witchbybirth @sonicsolos @lilbiguy @supsiii @rentheannihilator @bloopsstuff @pepepepepopopopo @pandoness @sw33cadav3r @rixo-19 19 @meguvmii @sxnkuna @mmeerraa @lemonintrovert01 @bunny-lily @kibananya @kamastar39 @rjreins @lzaj19 @tiredflame132 @manyno @oliiper @rengokushair @simp-plague @matchalatte06 @haesify @majanggeum @solarrexplosion @tbzzluvr @username23345 @demonboyssss @sakui1 @strychnynegirl

Forever Tag:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Healthy Habits To Look & Feel Your Best Without Restriction or Unrealistic Routines

Realistic ways to maintain a healthy life/body/appearance (size and weight are all personal, not the most important metric – for certain). No diet culture or delulu-land tips here.

What I've done to maintain my 30-pound weight loss for over a decade, glowing clear skin (no pimples or discoloration, etc.), and super healthy, full & shiny hair, still living life and enjoying it – the mindful way.

Eat home-cooked meals & (plant-based) whole foods – 90-95% of the time

Incorporate at least 1 salad into my daily routine (either a large, hearty lunch salad or a simple green salad as a starter with dinner)

Include at least 1 fruit/vegetable in every meal or snack

Never restrict food groups – whole grains/potatoes, healthy fats, protein-rich plant foods, and produce are all essential to consume every day

Focus on meals, but have whole food snack options on hand to enjoy if genuinely hungry (mainly fruit, lupini beans, edamame, carrots/celery/cucumber with hummus, plain popcorn, handful of almonds/cashews)

Have breakfast after one coffee (before a second) and have dinner late enough (8-9:30 pm) to curb late-night hunger

Only have fruit and tea after dinner; Always stop consuming food at least 3 hours before bed for better sleep/digestion

Order whatever I want when going out to eat, but split dessert

Have at least one indulgent meal/dessert per week

No sugary cocktails – wine, champagne/prosecco, martinis, gin & tonic, margarita, French Connection, Sambuca, Grappa, tequila on the rocks, etc. are great options. Bellinis/fruit plus wine/spirits cocktails are a good middle ground. Sugary drinks worsen the hangover – big-time

Perceive healthy eating as a form of enjoyment, creativity, and nourishment, not restriction or deprivation (it's not if done liberally enough)

Consume a vitamin B12 and vitamin D supplement daily. Keep digestive enzymes on hand for when they're necessary

Always have a large glass of water first thing in the morning (before coffee) and by my side all day long

No soda, juices, sugary drinks, etc. Black coffee, tea, and water only on the daily – wine and no-sugar alcoholic drinks on rare occasions. Smoothies can be a great snack or breakfast, though!

Incorporate an (almost) daily walk into my schedule as a form of exercise and a mental health reset (I aim for 4-5 miles/10Kish steps per day on average)

Do short, low-impact strengthen training exercises 3x a week (15-30 mins each usually) for bone health & toning

Never forcing myself to do strenuous exercise/workout formally in a gym – it's not for me; it doesn't make me feel/look better and throws my hunger & energy levels way off. To each their own, though

Have a variety of playlists ready to go for waking up, working, dancing, walking/workouts, doing chores, and reading/relaxing

Internalizing that sexual health is a core aspect of your health & well-being – on all counts

Maintaining a simple skincare routine 2x per week with high-quality products and a couple of weekly treatments

Prioritizing my body care routine with as much as my facial skincare routine

Wearing at least SPF 30 daily

Exfoliating 2-3x per week

Learning what hair products work for my hair type; Using a deep conditioning mask and a scalp mask weekly

Using only cold water when washing my hair

Incorporating face & body massages into my weekly at-home routine

Using Uriage lip balm, hand cream, and deodorant religiously

Flossing 1-2 times a day/using an electric toothbrush

[7ulpix]

Simon Riley with AAF! Reader + Skincare 🫧

🫧 warning(s): girly/very feminine reader, very messy, not proofread!

paring - simon riley • reader

word count: 561

🫧 request - not one!

🫧 author's note - FIRST WRITING POST ON HERE?? HI HELLO just me rambling....british military man save me......reader is Simon's gf at the time!!!!! PLEASEPLEAS leave criticism, this is my first time writing for COD idk how to write for older guys 😞💔💔

- 🫧 -

After having a very busy day, Simon cannot wait to come home to his very bubbly girlfriend and adorable puppy, Riley. No matter how much of a bad mood he is in, the two always manage to soothe it instantly. As he opens the door he is welcomed by a very excited puppy and his girlfriend, both in the kitchen.

"What are yer' two up to?"

"Nothing much. Trying a new skincare remedy."

Simon had moved from his position by the door to leaning over your shoulder. He peeks down at the bowl you're currently stirring to see a brownish mixture of ingredients and the smell of.....coffee........

"Those my coffee beans yer' got in there, too?" (🤨)

"Needed them for the recipe to work."

"I need them in order for me to work."

You look up at him and stick your tongue out before continuing your stirring.

"It's supposed to help clear your skin and reduce redness and eyebags."

You finish stirring. Turning away to get two smaller bowls.

"Don't think Riley can eat this."

"The bowls are not for Riley silly, you're doing it too!"

"Me?"

"Yeah! We're both trying this out, pretty boy. Go get cleaned up."

Simon sighed very loudly in a sarcastic way as if he was so tired of being bossed around, walking to their shared room. After 20 minutes, Simon came out freshly clean after a shower, switched into black basketball shorts, and a black baggy shirt. His outfit was the complete opposite to his girlfriend: pink robe, pink bonnet, pink nails, black tanktop, pink minishorts, and bunny slippers. Even Riley, the scary German Shepard their neighbor downstairs hated, had a light pink collar. You had now moved into the bathroom with the two bowls, Riley sitting by the tub, most likely bored.

"Ready?"

"M' ready."

"Okay, just rub it all over your face. Avoid your mouth though, not very tasty."

"Tasted it, didn't ya?"

".......not the best, you can definitely taste the coffee beans."

You push one of the smaller bowls towards him. He grabs a bit of the mixture, slowly rubbing it on his face as much as he can. You do the same, rubbing it around your face.

"Okay, now we leave it on for about 15 minutes!!!"

"So what do we do in those 15 minutes?"

".......watch Teen Wolf?"

The next 15 minutes were spent on the couch, finishing season 1 of Teen Wolf with riley enjoying the headpats received. If Soap witnessed Ghost sitting and wztching a show like this, he would lose it. Simon never thought in his entire life, he would be sitting on his couch watching a young teens show about being turning into a hybird wolf. He also never thought he'd see Riley rolling around on the rug, while his girlfriend gives the most praise he's ever seen.

"Timers up! C'mon we gotta wash this off our face."

Simon's out of his daydreams and into the bathroom with you. You both wash your face, you even lean up to leave kisses on his chin and rubbing water onto Riley's face so he doesn't feel left out. You look back into the mirror, smiling noticing that small blemish from earlier, is gone. Simon doesn't see much change done to his face besides glowing a bit more. Kinda sad only you get to see that glowing face. <3

[incorrectbatfam]

Could you please do some headcanons about Batmans cooking disasters over the years?

Age 5: Bruce puts tinfoil in the microwave. Alfred shakes his head and laughs

Age 6: He decorates a cookie so badly another kid cries until they throw up

Age 7: He tries to make a PB&J and the countertop is sticky for a week

Age 8: He tries to make Martha's chicken noodle soup but ends up crying on the kitchen floor surrounded by half-chopped vegetables

Age 9: He tries to impress a houseguest by recreating Thomas's mixology tricks (sans alcohol). There's still a stain on the ceiling to this day

Age 10: He makes green eggs. It's not on purpose. He's never even read the book

Age 11: He makes lava in the school cafeteria

Age 12: He tries to make cheese bread by drilling holes into a baguette and filling it with melted nacho cheese

Age 13: He melts a cutting board in the oven

Age 14: He folds a Pop Tart

Age 15: The chocolate-covered bananas he makes for the school bake sale come out looking very very wrong

Age 16: He's asked to drop a home economics class after mistaking refried beans for pumpkin puree in a pie

Age 17: He boils eggs in the carton

Age 18: He makes his entire freshman dorm evacuate after burning his ramen to ash

Age 19: He sculpts a severed hand out of meatloaf and is sent to the university psychologist

Age 20: He tries to bake a cake but doesn't have a cake pan, so he pours the batter right in the oven

Age 21: He tries Thomas's mixology tricks again, this time with alcohol. One of the tricks is flipping it over his head. He ends up losing part of his vision for 3 days

Age 22: He burns water. Harley Quinn is there. She still holds it over his head

Age 23: He packs his first patrol snack as Batman. It's a chocolate bar wrapped in a tortilla. The chocolate melts onto his gloves and he drops the tortilla down a sewer grate

Age 24: He makes an ice cream cookie sandwich to eat while he and Batgirl work on a case, but he's so engrossed in the work that he doesn't notice it melt until Babs points it out

Age 25: He enters the first annual Justice League cook-off and immediately gets banned from ever entering again

Age 26: He tries to comfort little Dickie Grayson by making fried cornbread from a book of Roma comfort recipes. It turns out about as well as you'd expect when you give Bruce Wayne hot oil. Bruce is genuinely bummed out, but Dick says it's the thought that counts

Age 27: Clark delivers a huge hunk of beef from the farm. Instead of waiting for Alfred to come back, Bruce and Dick try to break it down with a power saw

Age 28: Bruce and Dick's latkes are burned so badly they can play floor hockey with them

Age 29: He makes stuffed mushrooms. Badly. Like imagine the worst way you can fuck up a mushroom. It still won't compare to what Bruce did. And it's for a potluck with the West-Allens that Barry won't let him live down

Age 30: Bruce sees Dick struggling to make ravioli and he's like "Let me show you how it's done" before proceeding to make it infinitely worse

Age 31: Bruce sees a hungry Jason Todd and the first thing he does when they return to the manor is make a double-decker bread sandwich. That's bread with two more slices of bread in between

Age 32: Bruce packs Dick and Jason's lunchboxes when Alfred is out of town. They're supposed to include a salad. Instead, Dick gets a whole head of lettuce and Jason's is just a bottle of ranch

Age 33: He makes hot chocolate after patrol... but forgets the chocolate

Age 34: The Manor is too cold, so Bruce tries to warm it up by making Jason's favorite soup. His hands shake the whole time. Suddenly, he's eight years old again, sitting on the kitchen floor surrounded by scraps reminding him of his failure

Age 35: Jack and Janet Drake are out of the country again, leaving young Timmy by himself. Bruce decides to bring some dinner over. It's baked perfectly, but it's full of things that shouldn't be anywhere near a casserole dish. They end up ordering takeout and watching old detective movies together

Age 36: Steph walks through how to make waffles. Bruce is standing there, watching closely and taking notes. They still come out looking radioactive

Age 37: Cass asks if they can get smoothies. Bruce says he can make them at home. She gives him a warning look but that's not enough to stop him. Cue Bruce forgetting to put the lid on the blender

Age 38: Jason's first night back at home, Bruce tries to make that soup. It shoots out like a geyser and hits the lights. He's panicking until he hears Jason laugh, and then the soup doesn't matter

Age 39: Damian screws up hummus and he desperately tries to hide it so people won't see him as inadequate at something so basic. Instead of getting upset, Bruce assures him it's okay and offers to fix it. (He doesn't fix it, he just makes it worse)

Age 40: Bruce's birthday happens while he's fake-dead and away from home. He grabs a convenience store cupcake and sticks a single candle on it. Then he closes his eyes, pretends his family is around him, and makes a wish. (The candle droops and sets the hotel sheets on fire)

Age 41: Back at the Manor, he attempts to make lemonade on a particularly hot day. Selina offers to help, but Bruce declines, saying, "How hard can it be?" (Spoiler alert: it's not supposed to be full of seeds)

Age 42: Kate shows him a video of Canadians pouring maple syrup into the snow to make candy, so he gets her to boil the syrup so they can do it together. The problem comes when they can't control the pour and end up with a glob the size of Damian

Age 43: As part of a school project, Bruce and Duke try to deduce the Coca-Cola secret formula. Duke's teacher takes a point off because at the beginning he told her he'd taste the results, but there's no way he's doing that now

Age 44: The family gets together to make a full English breakfast Alfred's birthday. Each person takes a part—Dick has eggs, Jason has the grilled tomatoes, Tim has mushrooms, Duke has the bacon, Steph and Cass are tag-teaming the sausages, Damian just has to open a can of beans, and Bruce needs to put bread in the toaster. It goes South immediately when Damian reaches for his katana instead of the can opener

Age 45: Bruce puts tinfoil in the microwave. Alfred shakes his head and laughs

[mezsygfs]

Marauders as things my friends have said pt 2

had a deep dive in our discord dms for this shit. @al1xre as promised. love you tater tot 😽🩷 which friend should I target next.. nani or cece.... I got A LOT on both them mfs

other parts

Sirius: BRO. YOU CAN FIGURE THIS OUT URSELF

James: BUT PADS??? YOURE MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT PERSON?? YOURE SUPPOSED TO HELP??

Dorcas: DUDE. IM NOT GOING TO REPEAT MYSELF.

Barty: YOURE NOT MY MOTHER. but fine.

James: STOP BEING GOOFY AND CONFESS

James: THIS IS STRESSING ME OUT

Sirius: YOU??? MF IM THE ONE IN THE MIDDLE OF THIS?

James: DAWG IM SHITTING BRICKS. WE'RE BASICALLY THE SAME PERSON SO

Peter: BRO JUST LEAVE ME ALONE IF YOU WONT LISTEN

Marlene: NO BUT THAT IS SCARY HUH

Lily: I DONT GIVE A FUCK. SAY IT.

Marlene: I'm telling Pandora you're being mean

Lily: I DONT GIVE FLYING FUCKS IM TRYING TO HELP YOU

Barty: shape one into a dick

Evan: bro there's children around

Dorcas: well she told me her name and I told her mine??

Barty: ... Congratulations?

Evan: hit the jackpot fr

Dorcas: I'm gonna stop talking to you both

Regulus: I love being the unproblematic bystander

Lily: ew I feel like a mother

Marlene: mommy lily

Lily: no pls I hate that

Mary: what about mother Lily?

Peter: I need help with the personality

James: uhmm.. harsh at first? Smoker definitely

Sirius: has a penis

Remus: HAS A PENIS? 😭

James: everythings possible

Dorcas: lesbians liking men

James: oh yeah. That's not possible.

Sirius: why don't you just fall for a friend?

James: eh idk.. most of em are taken

Sirius: wow ok I'm offended

James: don't you like Remus?

Sirius: still.. thought that counts..

Barty: potter doesn't think I'm scary, right?

Regulus: of course not! He thinks you're terrifying!

Remus: my coffee tastes like sad bean water :((

Sirius: put creamer in it

Remus: oh right I forgot

James: I appreciate you sm I love you

Sirius: I love you more??

James: impossible. I love you more.

Sirius: possible. I love you most.

James: I love you mostest.

Sirius: I love you more than mostest.

James: I love you more than more than mostest.

Sirius: that makes no sense what and you're wrong like its not possible

(Remus and Regulus side eyeing the fuck out of them both)

Evan: oh my gosh we both have siblings.. soulmates fr.

Regulus: i wanna be on your level of delusion

Sirius: how bout Remus turns around and looks at ME like that

James: id look at you like that

Sirius: THAT CAUGHT ME OFF GAURD.

Sirius: my life is so boring I need real drama

Peter: id create drama but being involved takes a lot of effort

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 18]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.3K

"Hwa hwa, you know I love you the most, right?" You threw your arms around the male, hugging him with a sweetest grin that you could muster. Seonghwa raised an eyebrow as he stared at you, more like glared at you.

"Yeah right. The only time (y/n) tells Seonghwa hyung she loves him is to get out of trouble." Jongho snorted.

"Shut up, Jongho." You hissed.

"Be nice." Seonghwa hit the back of your head, making you sulk. Seeing this as the perfect opportunity, Wooyoung wrapped his arms around your waist to back hug you.

"Woo~" You squirmed. Seonghwa sighed, stroking your head. He knew that you already knew what he was going to say.

"Are you tired?" He asked.

"Not at all. It was nice and relaxing. I needed this, to keep myelf busy." You looked up at him. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho knew what you meant.

"Plus, Yunho is good company." You added. All 3 boys looked up at Yunho, who was just standing there, trying to eavesdrop and watch what was happening without being noticed. He blinked when he realised that all the stared were at him. Embarrassed that they knew he was there, he cleared his throat.

"He made sure I sat down to rest after. And you! You're interfering with my coffee drinking! Even made sweet innocent Yunho turn against me." You raised a hand to hit Seonghwa.

"I-I made her a h-hot chocolate." Yunho confirmed, a little flustered to hear you call him 'sweet' and 'innocent'.

"Good. Now let's get to work." Seonghwa said, patting your head and completely ignoring you.

"I only need to fill my pasta. I'm letting my galbi and broth simmer for as long as I can let it. My garnishes and toppings are prepared." You told them.

"I'll start on apps with you?" Jongho offered. You nodded, about to walk when you noticed Wooyoung still latched to your waist.

"Wooyoung! Let me go." You patted his back. He puckered his lips in a pout before he unwillingly let you go.

You wore your apron again and went to wash your knife. This night was slightly different. With everyone working on their own dish, there wasn't a clear sous, prep or head chef. All of you just split the shared tasks while working on your own.

"Oh, wait. Let me check on the ice cream." You put your knife down and went to churners to check the consistency of the ice cream. Once they were done, you put them in the freezer.

"What's for dessert?" Yunho asked.

"That was smoked milk and vanilla ice cream. We're serving that with red bean jelly cubes, pieces of injeolmi rice cake and an almond tuile."

"Like flavours of patbingsoo but elevated." Seonghwa informed. You nodded in confirmation.

"For Western dessert, we're doing a burnt white chocolate panna cotta with raspberry swirl meringues, a passionfruit coolis and fresh mango cubes over." Jongho added.

"That sounds really nice. But burnt white chocolate?" Yunho leaned forward on his hands.

"Well, not burnt. More caramelised. White chocolate on its own is very sweet. But cook it until it becomes brown and caramelised, the flavour is a lot better and easier to balance." Wooyoung explained. Yunho nodded in interest. You continued working on the appetisers with Jongho.

"Hweh crudo. Take the marinated fish slices and roll it up with pea shoots, scallions and shredded perilla leaf. Minari (Water dropwort) jeon." You listed.

"We need to prep gujeolpan (plate with small wraps and 9 delicacy toppings)." Jongho reminded.

"Right. Then the confit tomatoes with pickles." You checked.

"I'll do the roasted eggplant with black olive doenjang and ponzu. Almost done here." Wooyoung voiced out as he worked on his dish at his bench. The door opened, the others entering.

"We're here early to help!" San declared loudly with his arms raised. Hongjoong and Yeosang shushed him.

"You can help us with the appetisers. Get aprons and wash your hands." You said.

The 4 main kitchen crew took turns. After Seonghwa and Wooyoung stepped in to guide those that didn't know their way around the kitchen, you and Jongho could work on your mains.

"Yunho, want to help me with my pasta?" You asked. Yunho's head shot up, looking for where you were in the kitchen before leaving Mingi and his task to go to you. He smiled excitedly as he bounded over like a puppy.

"So we need to shred the meat for the pasta. This is the galbi. Take two forks and pull them apart." You demonstrated.

"I can do that! And that smells so good." He pointed to the galbi. Grabbing a tasting spoon, you let him indulge in a bite. But soon, you had others around.

"Hey!" Yunho protested as you fed San, Mingi, Yeosang and Hongjoong too.

"Alright, get back to work." He scolded them. You stayed beside Yunho, rolling out the pasta dough.

"You don't need to shred every single piece entirely. You can leave them in different size pieces." You told Yunho. He nodded with a hum, sneaking a bite before continuing.

"Stop stealing the food." You scolded him with a laugh. Yunho grinned cheekily.

"I want to do Yunho's job too." Hongjoong whined.

"No! It's my job." Yunho barked back. He liked working with you, like your personal sous chef. Yunho watched you measured the dough with a ruler and cut it. You took bites of meat that Yunho had already shredded and placed it in the middle before closing it, joining the ends together.

"Ooh, can I try?" Yunho asked with sparkling eyes. You nodded and Yunho put the forks down temporarily for you to slowly demonstrate how to fold the pasta dough.

"Not too much filling or it'll burst." You advised.

"Yeah, just like that. Press the two ends." You leaned over to see Yunho's one.

"I'll finish up here and continue that." He smiled proudly, putting it aside before finishing his previous job of shredding the meat. Once he was done, he helped you fold the pasta.

"I'm not as fast as you." He pouted.

"You just started. I would already say you're already doing a great job." You smiled.

"Thank you." Yunho blushed from your compliment. He continued to make the pasta with you. You momentarily stepped away to check the seolleongtang broth that was bubbling away on the stove, giving it a taste to make sure it was getting there.

"How is it?" Yunho asked when you stepped back into your original spot. You looked up at him and nodded, telling him how the progress of the stock has been.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, there were a few sets of eyes staring at the two of you chat in your little corner. It was like you were in your own bubble, smiling as you chatted and made the pasta together.

"That's cute." Wooyoung noted. Yeosang nodded in agreement. Hongjoong let out an affectionate chuckle.

"They're in their own world over there." San chuckled.

"They're just talking, how is that cute?" Mingi blinked, completely missing what everyone was talking about. Hongjoong patted Mingi's shoulder sympathetically.

"It's okay not to get it, Mingi ah." Hongjoong chuckled. Seonghwa stared for a second, unknowingly clenching his jaw.

"Seonghwa hyung?" Jongho called out, breaking his brain fog. The look Jongho cast him, Seonghwa knew he had been caught spiralling in his brain. He was reminding the elder that he wasn't alone in the room. Clearing his throat, Seonghwa focussed on the cutting baord in the front of him.

"We're done here. Anyone need help on anything?" You came back to the center of the kitchen where everyone was still working.

"Appetisers are almost done. Do you want to start the dessert components with me?" Seonghwa asked you in a gentle voice. You nodded your head.

"Let's get the panna cottas in the fridge to set." You both went to get the ingredients from the walk in and pantry.

"Thanks for all the help, guys. But if you need to go prepare the front for tonight. Just go ahead, we've got it handled." You said to the 5.

"We should bring in the washed plates for tonight." Yeosang said. He and San went out to bring the plates in for the kitchen crew to use to plate the food on.

"Who is working the pass tonight?" You asked.

"I can be the main. But we'll have to rotate from time to time." Wooyoung volunteered.

"Sure. Just tap out when you need someone to take over." Seonghwa and Jongho agreed. With a small crew, this was how you had to make things work. You couldn't afford to have one person just at one station the whole night.

Soon, the crew that works the front of the restaurant all were busy trying to set up for the night, leaving only a few in the ktichen to work with your kitchen crew.

"Actually, Mingi. I would love to speak with your mother about cooking eels, preparing and procuring them." You said.

"I'm sure she'll be happy to share that knowledge with you, (y/n). She loves talking about food." He chuckled.

"Maybe she can give me her eel supplier. I would love to explore it as an ingredient more. Surprisingly, I have not been that exposed to working with it." You sighed.

"My mum's the right person to go to then. I should bring you to the restaurant one day." He replied.

"I'd love that." You had a small smile on your face.

"Let's cook the staff meal first. I have feeling we might end later than we usually do and we'll be too tired to cook for ourselves then." Seonghwa suggested. You checked the clock, about to decide what to whip up quickly for everyone but San and Mingi came over, volunteering to cook.

"You guys are busy enough. We'll take over and cook something up." San smiled.

"Thanks, guys." You, Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho were very grateful that they stepped up and volunteered. San and Mingi were the best cooks out of the 5 so you weren't too worried.

"Shall we make curry rice?" Mingi suggested, holding the cubes of Korean curry up.

"I know how to make that." San laughed. The two began chopping vegetables, adding whatever meat they could find.

"Is anyone using these?" San came out of the walk in with a few packs of chicken thighs and sliced pork belly in his hands. You all shook your heads.

"I'll cook the rice. You start slicing the meat." Mingi instructed and went to get the rice cooker. The 4 of you made sure to be around them in case the two needed help. But San and Mingi were confident, they didn't want to ask for help.

"Mingi, sorry. Just a few minutes. Yunho needs another tall person to help." Hongjoong poked his head into the kitchen.

"Coming." Mingi went out.

"Hi, (y/n)ie." San smiled when you moved opposite him to check on the pasta that you made with Yunho earlier. You chuckled at the casual way he called you.

"Hi, Sannie." You returned the greeting. San looked up in surprise but smiled nonetheless, his dimple popping through.

"So are you excited for your parents to come tonight?" You asked him. He nodded.

"My parents live rather far in the countryside but when they visit, it is always a treat. I hope my older sister comes too. I miss all of them." San said.

"They must be really nice."

"They are. They treat everyone like their family." He laughed. You wondered what it must be like to have such a warm, welcoming family. Maybe your family would have been like that if your mother was still around. But even then, your father was someone that never liked you and your mother to be too friendly to others.

"(y/n)." Seonghwa called you. You looked up to see Seonghwa nodding over to where he was. Shooting San a small smile, you went over to him.

"Okay?" He whispered as you stood beside him. You let out a small hum, helping him with the dessert.

-

After a quick dinner, the kitchen was bustling for dinner service. You knew the parents came when the boys were all greeting them loudly and excitedly in the dining room.

"Hey." Yunho came in with all the parents behind him. You all stood up, bowing respectfully. He introduced whose parents were whose and the family members. Yunho's younger brother looked like him.

"Please, don't let us bother you. Or interrupt your flow." Mrs Song chuckled, waving a hand. She knew what it was like working in the kitchen, owning her own restaurant. You all returend to your food prep tasks.

"I'm Wooyoung. That's Seonghwa hyung, Jongho and (y/n)." Wooyoung, who was the closest, introduced all of you.

"(y/n). The head." Even if you were not looking at them, you felt all eyes fall on you. Jongho nodded at you, assuring that he could handle it. You straightened up and walked over.

"Nice to meet you." You bowed to them.

"Omo. You're so pretty." All the mothers flocked to you, cooing at you affectionately. You grew flustered, unsure of what to do or how to react.

"Okay, ommas. Let's give her some space." Yunho cut in, separating them from you. The fathers merely chuckled, shaking their heads while the mothers scolded Yunho.

"How talented you are. I heard you've been in many reputable kitchens at your age." Mrs Jeong said sweetly, holding your hand.

"Ah, no... It's all just for experience. I'm thankful for all the opportunities given to me." You gave an awkward smile. Yunho cleared his throat and his mother pulled away, shooting her son a look. You bowed your head and went back to help, not wanting to leave the others on their own for long.

"Alright, we shall let them get back to work. Let's go back out." Yunho ushered all of them out of the kitchen. He let a sigh, hoping his mother didn't scare you too much.

"What happened?" Mingi asked.

"Our mothers were smothering (y/n)." Yunho rolled his eyes as the parents took their seats.

"Hyung, (y/n) and those guys are so talented. Why would they want to work for you?" Gunho asked. Yunho shot his younger brother a flat look while Mr Jeong nudged his youngest son.

"Because I am an amazing boss, okay?" Yunho scoffed.

"Mmm, sure." Yeosang coughed. Hongjoong handed out the menus to the parents for them to see what they would like to order.

"Omma, order (y/n)'s dish. I helped make it." Yunho leaned over, pointing to which dish you made on the menu. Mrs Jeong nodded with a hum.

"Hyung helped make it? I'm so not going to order it." Gunho shook his head. Mingi snickered, reaching over to hi-five him. Yunho threatened to hit them. But in the presence of other customers, he wasn't going to.

"Order coming in for the VIP tables." Wooyoung warned as he started to read off the order slips that were coming through.

"Let's go." You all began to work on the appetisers together that would be served first. Wooyoung, at the pass, would finish up with sauces and garnishes before sending the plate out to be served.

"Service." Wooyoung put the plates out for the other boys to bring out to the table.

"Let's start getting ready for mains so we can fire once they are done with apps. In case we need to float." You said to everyone.

"How is it going in here?" Yunho came into the kitchen. You were straining your seolleongtang stock, getting it ready to plate the mains later.

"How are the appetisers?" Seonghwa asked, setting up his oven smoker with the tea leaves for his duck.

"Oh, they love it. Every single dish, I had to stop them from ordering seconds before the mains. But at least they're all excited for the mains now." Yunho grinned proudly. When you were done, you helped Jongho with setting up his binchotan grill for the cod fillets. Yunho came over to you.

"Need help?"

"No, we're good here. You should go out and be with your parents. In case they need anything." You put a hand on his arm. Yunho pouted but nodded, obediently leaving the kitchen.

"We can start firing the mains." Wooyoung said, having observed the dining room from his position at the pass.

"Gunho looks like Yunho. A younger version." You chuckled as you took the pasta out of the boiling water. You missed the odd look that your friends shot you.

"Cuter?" Jongho asked, wanting to add fuel to the fire.

"Maybe." You shrugged.

"What?!" The door burst open and Yunho yelled in disbelief, making you all jump in shock. Hongjoong, who was outside, bowed in apology to the surprised customers before hurriedly pushing Yunho in the kitchen.

"Geez, Yunho! There are customers! You can't just suddenly yell like that." He scolded in a hiss before exiting to return to the dining room.

"Yunho, don't do that. You're disrupting customers and it's not safe where we're working with knives here." You frowned.

"Wait, do you seriously think Gunho is cuter than me?" Yunho planted his hand on the counter, blocking your way with his body. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho snickered.

"Does it matter? Now, I need to plate my dish." You said, walking around him to go to the plates.

"Yes, it matters to me!" Yunho threw a tantrum, stomping his food as he whined.

"(y/n)~" He whined when he realised that you were ignoring him. You plated each pasta on each plate, making sure the positions of each pasta was accurate and similar. He leaned down in front of you.

"(y/n), tell me I'm cuter than Gunho." He said. You rolled your eyes, patting his head to pacify him then walking to get the seolleongtang into a jug so you could pour it over the pasta. Yunho sulked, following you around like a puppy with separation anxiety. You poured the broth over, garnishing with two oils.

"Pass me the egg garnish." You instructed. Yunho sighed but handed the containers for you to put the garnishes over.

"Bring these out for service, will you?" You told him and went to prepare the other portions. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho called the others for service too.

"Yah. Don't just stand there. Keep moving." Mingi clicked his tongue as he carried the dishes in his hands.

"We might have a little lull time before dessets." Wooyoung said.

"(y/n). Tell me I'm better than Gunho." Yunho came in again, still pushing his agenda. You raised an eyebrow at him. He was seriously a pouty puppy.

"I don't know Gunho well enough to know if you're truly better than him. That's biased." You pointed out.

"True." San, who overheard, voiced in agreement. Yunho whipped around, glaring at San.

"Get out." He pointed at the door. San scoffed and rolled his eyes before going out. Turning back around, Yunho saw that you had slipped away. You were still doing the few orders for mains and appetisers that came in.

"Service." You handed the plates to Wooyoung. Yeosang came in to take them out to the dining room. Seonghwa and Jongho also served what they finished working on. Yunho brought them out.

"Let's take 5." Seonghwa suggested. You stepped out the back door for a breather. Yunho came back to find you missing.

"I'm just taking a breather, Yunho." You said when he stepped out of the back door.

"I know." He said, taking a seat beside you on the stoop. With his body practically brushing against yours, you didn't move away uncomfortably. You sat there in silence.

"Why were you so adament on me thinking you're better than Gunho? It doesn't matter what I think." You asked with a chuckle.

"No, it matters to me." Yunho said firmly.

"Why?"

"Because you can't like Gunho. I want to be the only one that you like." He frowned.

~

Series masterlist

[princecharmingwinks]

Sterek Fic Rec - June-December 2023.

Can you believe we are almost at the end of 2023? These last six months have been quite busy for me so sadly haven't been able to read as much fic as I would have liked. But I am still here and will continue to create rec lists whenever I get the chance to read more fics. I am also rounding the word counts so please click on the links for the exact word count. :)

it doesn't have to be a snowman by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren) (1/1 | 4K | General)

The Beacon Beans coffee shop is what Stiles would refer to as a lifesaver. They supply his dose of sugar whenever he needs it, they don't ask questions, and their hot chocolate is delicious. And now they're running a snowman building competition where the grand prize would get him an entire year's worth of drinks. Really, all he needs is a partner to team up with. Only everyone else from the pack already seems to have paired up.

Bravery is a Loaded Gun by DefNotForWork (1/1 | 17K | Explicit)

“No, I’m not asexual, Stiles,” Derek said shortly. The teen’s heart sank in his chest, his palms going clammy and his neck prickling with the familiar feeling of rejection. “So then it’s,” Stiles swallowed, throat clogging, unable to give voice to the facts he would much rather ignore. The silence grew between them, growing tense the longer it was left. For the first time in years, Stiles couldn’t speak. The weight of inadequacy held down his typical stream of useless banter. What does one say in this sort of situation? ‘I’m sorry you don’t find me attractive?’ In which the boys speak in half sentences and have two totally different conversations. What they can agree on, eventually, is that they love each other. And that Derek should jerk off more.

Undertow by entanglednow (1/1 | 4K | Mature)

"I don't want you to die because my swirls weren't swirly enough."

Fire and Water by GreyHaven (1/1 | 2K | General)

Derek is full of unspoken words and unexpressed emotions that sear him from the inside out until finally, finally, he allows them to escape into dark ash stains that smear across the harsh white of his notebook. Or, the one in which Derek is compelled to write a story. Turns out, he's writing about Stiles. What will happen when Stiles reads it? Angst and healing and two people finding safety in each other.

eli's parents are so gross (read: in love) by ash_mcj (1/1 | 1K | Teen)

"I would’ve been here earlier, but nobody thought it would be smart to call the one person who’s intimately dealt with the Nogitsune before, so,” Stiles said bitterly as he threw his hands up. "Now I have a list of asses I gotta kick over this very avoidable fiasco. Scott’s first, since he’s the Alpha—I’m pretty sure that’s how that works. His responsibility, or whatever.” The familiar sound of Derek’s car pulling into the driveway caught Eli's attention, and he grinned. “Is Dad on your list?” “Hell yeah, Dad is on my list! Right under Scott.” “Well, he just got home, so—” Stiles didn’t wait to hear the rest of the sentence before stomping off in the direction of the living room—and Eli quickly scrambled to follow him, ready to eavesdrop on what was likely going to be a rather impressive and amusing lecture. [or: eli is glad that stiles is home, since derek has nearly died several times in his absence, but he really wishes they were a little less glad to see each other] -- prompt | a reunion kiss

Ashes, Ashes by ShanaStoryteller (1/1 | 2K | Teen)

The Sheriff gets a call at work - someone's tried to burn down his home with his son inside. "I thought of you coming here, and finding me dead, of another burnt out husk of a body, something else fire has stolen from you, of you having nothing left to grasp but ashes," John can't even call that a whimper, it's clearly a whine as Derek's hands tighten against Stile's hips, as if his boy will shudder to dust at the mere mention of the possibility unless Derek's hands can hold him into one piece, "and that thought was worse than dying."

Love Runs Wild by DevilDoll (1/1 | 9K | Explicit)

"You've got a hickey on the back of your neck!" A Neckz 'n Throats story.

So When Do I Get To Pledge My Loyalty To The Mob? by RedRidingStiles (1/1 | 10K | Mature)

“Are you my sugar daddy?” Stiles blurts out, slapping a hand over his mouth when his brain catches up to his mouth. The man lets out a soft laugh, making his way around the couch till he’s standing just feet away from Stiles. Stiles can smell his cologne from here, it smells heavenly, Stiles kinda wants to bury his face into the guy's chest so he can figure out exactly what it is. “If that’s what you’d like to call it.” The man smiles. Stiles doesn’t think he should be allowed to smile like that. All soft and gorgeous and way too pretty to be legal. He’s still not convinced any of this is real. Stiles loses his wallet, someone returns it along with $5,000. Shit keeps coming, Stiles life doesn't make any sense anymore, he's just going with it. Edited in October 2022

Stiles is My Safe Place by Star_crossed02 (5/5 | 10K | Mature)

Stiles gets bitten by Kali, and after a brief adjustment period, proceeds to co-lead the Hale Pack to defeat the Alpha Pack once and for all. OR What happens when a sassy spark-werefox starts courting an alpha sourwolf?

It feels like a perfect night (for breakfast at midnight) by princecharmingwinks (1/1 | 1K | General)

Stiles is floating on cloud nine. He is absolutely living his best life. It's a Saturday night, he's out with his friends and he's dancing like it's his birthday. Because it is! (Or it will be in 20 minutes, once midnight ticks around). And what better way to celebrate the respectful age of 22 than a night out?

princecharmingwinks special mention (My plane flying companion - I read a new chapter every time I took a new flight)

First Son, Last Chance by orphan_account (12/12 | 60K | Mature)

When First Son Stiles Stilinski, beloved public figure and the bane of his private security team, goes missing without a trace, ex-security officer Derek Hale finds himself tangled up in the world of Argent Security, a world he was forced out of when rumours abounded that he was sleeping with his charges. There's no leads, no time and no way Derek is going to rest until Stiles has been brought home safely. (Inspired by this post.)

That is all folks for 2023! Sorry again for a late addition. See you in the new year. Remember to leave kudos and comments for our wonderful writers.

[newwritergirl]

Starting over | Part 22

Masterlist

Summary: Y/n has to give her statement but Welsh has another ace up his sleeve.

Trigger warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, hurt and comfort, injuries, assholes, inaccurate knowlegde about the Navy

Word Count: 4k +

A/N: I can't believe I already have written 22 chapters of my first fiction. I hope you like it. Thank you so much for all the support and thanks for reading :)

The strong scent of fresh grounded coffee beans is filtering from the kitchen into the living room and is slowly spreading in every room. Soft clattering of plates, cutlery and mugs can be heard in the kitchen when Jake makes his way out of the master bathroom after his refreshing shower. The night and its events still lingering in his bones he wanted to let off some steam in their home gym but the blonde aviator decided that a cold shower has to be enough and that spending the morning with Bradley and y/n is more important than him hitting the gym.

When Bradley hears quiet shuffling coming from the living room he turns around and a soft smile spreads over his lips when he sees Jake making his way over, his bare chest catching droplets of water which are occasionally dripping down from his still wet hair.

"All shirts in the wash, Seresin? Or are you trying to seduce me?" The brunette man chuckles while taking a step into Jake's direction and placing a soft kiss on the other man's cheek.

"Well…it's been a while." Jake winks in his cocky attitude which Bradley learned to love over that last month.

The blonde grabs himself a mug of the fresh brewed coffee and leans against the kitchen counter casting a glance at Bradley. Despite their cocky banter seconds ago he immediately sees worry in the eyes of the brunette aviator. The night was hard for all three of them. Not only for him because of his dream and for y/n because of her injuries and him hurting her by accident, the very thought of it lets Jake shudder. It also has to be difficult for Bradley.

Jake makes his way over to his boyfriend, leaving the steaming cup of coffee behind on the counter.

"I'm sorry, for…you know, last night." Jake mumbles, dropping his gaze to his sockless feet until he feels strong and warm hands embracing him in a hug. He feels Bradley's muscular but not shirtless chest pressing into his naked chilly skin. His scent is intoxicating and calming. The physical contact is what he craved the second he got out of bed.

"There's nothing you have to apologize for, Jake." Bradley emphasizes while he draws patterns on the other man's back. Jake can't help himself but shudder when he feels the brunette's fingertips lazily stroking over his naked skin. Goosebumps are spreading over his whole body. In any other situation he would takes this further into the bedroom, involving their girlfriend in their fondlings. But he is still shaken from the nightmare, y/n is injured and probably in pain and due for another round of strong pain killers and Bradley also looks more than worn out with dark circles under his warm brown eyes.

All too soon both end their loving hug but not before stealing a kiss from one another.

"Mav called earlier. He asked how our first night was, how y/n is feeling. He wanted to know if she's already up for giving her statement. The earlier she gives it the better they can investigate and take Welsh directly into custody when they found this bastard." Bradley explains while shoving the coffee mug back into Jake’s hand and takes his for himself.

Jake lets out a frustrated breath. He knows that y/n has to give her statement, giving as much as details as she can recall. He wants nothing more than to protect her from these memories, he doesn't want her to relive this brutal attack and he sure as hell knows that Rooster feels the same. But both know that all they can do is help y/n through her statement and protect her for what is to come, whatever that will be.

"I don't like this either, Jake. I told Mav that I will let him know when y/n is up and we know how she feels. When she feels up for her statement they can come but we are going to stay with her."

---

"Fucking Hell, are you out of your mind?" Lieutenant Fillon shouts into his phone. "I helped you out the last time, we are even!"

Fillon is out of his mind, how dare his former friend, today nothing more than a psycho, demands another favor from him and a big one. The Lieutenant of the military police helped Welsh the last time he was banned from his last base and made sure that he can get a new position in Miramar, under close observation, but after all he was not dishonorably discharged. But this time, how is he able to sort out the mess again? Apart from that Fillon doesn't want to help Welsh out. He definitely went too far this time. This was way more than some verbal harassment of female colleagues or peeking at them in the shower. This is absolutely inacceptable. If Fillon would be honest Welsh's first mishaps were also inacceptable but Welsh had him at his balls. How he wished that he never cheated on his wife with this strange girl, but unfortunately he did and even worse, Welsh knows.

"Shut up, Fillon. You have to help me, this little slut is going to destroy me. I know you're doing the investigation. And I also know that you are going to help me. You are going to make her look like the seductive slut she is. She's fucking two pilots from Miramar. That will help us…" Welsh explains over the phone to his former friend.

"No way. Are you crazy? I can lost MY job for this stunt. This is too much, Welsh. You crossed that line a long time ago, but I'm not going to pull you out another time." Fillon stands up for himself. No way he is going to defend this man. He's a criminal, a sexual offender. His mind wanders to his wife and his daughter. He has to keep this guy from the streets to protect his family and protect other girls.

"Tss, tss, tss, Fillon. Lieutenant Fillon, are you still playing happy family with Sarah?" Welsh's sick laugh makes the other man's head spin.

"Leave my wife and my daughter out of this, you bastard."

Welsh already knows the outcome of this phone call, so he has a shit eating grin across his face.

"Fillon, my friend. You know the deal, you help me out and Sarah will never get knowledge of your little affair you had last year. Or do you want to pay maintenance not only for sweet Christi but for that bastard child you conceived accidently."

---

Y/n knows that she has to give a detailed statement about the evening Welsh came into her office. But now that she sits at the dining room table, the two pair of eyes of the Lieutenants of the military police on her she is getting nervous, no she is terrified. Jake and Bradley, Mav and the Admiral are also seated at the big table which is usually a venue for the two pilots and their girlfriend during cozy dinners or happy breakfasts. The support of her men, Pete and the Admiral gives her a bit more strength to get through the statement but she is already nervous for reliving the whole evening. Despite her headwound she can recall every detail. She knows what her attacker wore, how he smelled, what he said, where he touched her. Her mind was highly alert the moment Welsh entered her office. Maybe her subconsciousness learned to not shut itself off during the countless  attacks she endured during her relationship with Michael.

Y/n is also afraid of the reaction of her two boyfriends when they hear all the cruel details, how this somewhat developed during the two weeks they were away. She feels an incoming migraine raging behind her eyes and her stiff posture is hurting her kidney to the point she wants to cry but she has to do this as best as she could.

---

Y/n is relieved that she was able to get the two Lieutenants a detailed statement of the previous events of her attack and also what happened beforehand when Welsh made suggestive comments or even mentioned the name of her abusive ex. But now she feels drained, her head is pounding and she feels her head swim and the room spin when she shakes or nods her head. Her sweaty hands are clenched into fists in hiding under the table on her lap. She feels the rage radiating from both her boyfriends and she prays that this will be over rather sooner than later.

"Miss y/ln, you said earlier that Lieutenant Welsh once brought you home, when you were feeling sick during work. What did he say to you in the car?" Fillon asks y/n without looking up from his notepad where he took notes during her statement and where he is now looking up questions or notes he did prior.

"Yes, sir. He - he took me home, because I had a bad migraine." Y/n casts a look at the Admiral who gives an encouraging look to go on. "The Admiral assigned him to do so. In the car he- he tried to some kind of interrogate me." Y/n explains, hearing the words of Welsh, smelling his cologne and feeling the goosebumps she got out of disgust when he touched her.

"Miss y/ln, a colleague making small talk in the car. That sounds not really harmful to me." Fillon tries to lead the young woman up the garden path. The other military Lieutenant stiffens in his seat and straights himself up in his seat, but Fillon holds up his right hand as to stop his colleague from intervene.

"He, ehm…" Y/n gets more agitated by the second, she feels her body starting to shake and her back cramping up from being in a sitting position for too long. A warm hand is placed on her knee squeezing it gently. She can make out a whispered 'it's okay, y/n. We got you' from Bradley who sits beside her.

"He asked me how I can bring men home when living with two male roommates. And when I told him that I don't bring men home he said that I'm just playing hard to get. He touched my arm, I - I didn't want that. I don't like being touched…" She rambles, her heart picks up speed and blood is rushing in her ears. But she has to stay strong, just some more minutes.

"Mmh, obviously." Fillon mumbles but loud enough to be heard.

Jakes needs to restrain himself to not go over the table and end this Fillon guy. At the beginning of the interview they were all in cheerful spirits that this will be over soon. Both Lieutenants were professional and even seem like have enough tact to interrogate a victim of such a crime. But nearly at the end the atmosphere changed. Fillon got sassier and asked strange questions as if y/n is the suspect here.

"Hey…" Bradley sits up straighter in his chair showing off his high but soon is stopped by Mav who rushes into the direction of the brunette aviator. "It's okay, Lieutenant Commander. I'm sure we're finished here, aren't we Lieutenants?"

"Just two more questions. Miss y/ln, I just have another question because there is something which I didn't write down properly. 'Hard to get' that's what he also told you on the said evening of the attack," Fillon lifts his hands and gestured like putting 'attack' in quotations. Y/n gets more insecure with the sudden change in the one Lieutenant's behavior. Don't they believe her anymore? Did she say something wrong?

"Is it possible that you, Miss y/ln, rose false hopes. Maybe you were a little too flirty with Daniel Welsh and then let's say forgot to make your point clear? Is it possible that Daniel Welsh hadn't had the chance to interpret your signs the right way?"

Bradley jumps up from his seat. The scraping of the chair legs echoing through the whole living room and dining area. Y/n flinches from the sudden movement beside her.

"That's enough!" Jake speaks up in a low and dangerous tone while he lays his arm around y/n's trembling shoulders.

Mav stands before Bradley even if he knows that the smaller man would have his difficulties to stop a raging Rooster. But Fillon seems to be unimpressed by the taller brunette aviator at least on the outside. Deep inside he feels like the biggest asshole on the planet. His heart is beating painfully as if his vital organ wants to stop him going further. But he has to protect his family, he has to play the game and he knows it's going to get dirty. He just hopes he can play it till the end, when he made his plans how to bring y/n to withdraw her allegations against Welsh he didn't reckon that the Admiral, Captain Mitchell and the two Lieutenant Commanders would be present.

"Just one more thing. Miss y/ln, is it possible that you wanted to be, let's say romantically involved with Daniel Welsh and he just rejected you? After all you are already involved with two aviators from the base you're working at. So it can be suggested that you were looking for a third playfellow, so to speak. But let's say Daniel Welsh rejected you and playing the victim seemed your only escape out of this embarrass…" Fillon doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence when Bradley already has the collar of his military police uniform in his fist and shoving him out of the chair.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!" The Admiral is already out of his seat shoving himself between Fillon and Rooster. Bradley breathes hardly, he feels so much rage right now that the only person he can focus on is this Fillon guy. Two strong hands are gripping his shoulders pulling him two steps back from Lieutenant Fillon.

"Lieutenant Fillon, that's enough! You come with me to the base. We will have an interesting conversation with your superior!" The Admiral speaks loudly and shoves Fillon out of the house.

---

Y/n is shaking like a leaf, only with Jake's support she is able to stay seated in the chair at their dining table. Are they going to make her responsible for Welsh's behavior and the attack on her? She knows that game. Michael did that all the time. He blamed her after he beat her up. He blamed her for every hit, kick, punch. Every broken bone, every split lip, concussion and bleeding wound was her fault.

Fortunately Fillon's colleague and Pete left shortly after the Admiral drove off with Fillon.

Minutes lapse away but y/n is just staring into space, she doesn't even notice the tears that are falling into her lap until she feels a familiar hand stroking over her flushed cheeks.

"Princess?" She flinches when she notices Bradley kneeling in front of her being so close she can feel his warmth radiating from his broad body. When did he kneel in front of her? She must've spaced out for some time. Slowly her surroundings are coming back into focus. Jake is holding her shaking body, stroking over her back soothingly, Bradley is kneeling in front of her cradling her head in his soft big hands.

She takes a shuddered breath, she wants to say something but she is at a loss for words. Are Bradley and Jake also thinking it's her fault? Do they believe she flirted with Welsh? Or even worse that she wanted to sleep with this man? Her head is spinning and she feels she is spiraling again. To ground herself y/n clutched her thighs, digging her finger nails painfully strong into the flesh of her clothed legs. The fabric of her leggings supposedly the only thing which prevents her nails from drawing blood. Bradley notices his girlfriend hurting herself so he opens her tensed up hands and putting her smaller ones in his, stroking circles on the back of her hands with his thumb.

"I- I didn't flirt with him…" Y/n starts to stammer, frantically looking from one pilot to the other. "I swear, I didn't w-want his attention." The woman slowly starts to panic. What if they don't believe her? What if they're kicking her out? Maybe they think she cheated on them when they were deployed. Her breathing gets faster and y/n feels her heart hammering painfully in her chest.

"Hey, cupcake. Of course you didn't want this. We believe you!" Jake fortunately gets her attention when he speaks up. "He cradles her head into his chest right above his heart. "Hear my heart? Feel my breathing," he says while taking a deep and calm breath, "match my breathing, baby. You're safe with us."

The familiar scent, the soothing voice and the calm breathing helps y/n to overcome the building panic she felt in her stomach minutes ago. Now she is more than exhausted. She knew that giving her statement would drain her completely but the weird behavior of one of the Lieutenants, his accusations and questions just knocked all energy she had left out of her weak body.

Jake is relieved when he feels his girlfriend breathing steadily and calm against the collar of his button down. He tightens his grip on her upper body when he feels her sagging against him. He kisses her forehead but lingers a bit longer to feel her temperature. A frown appears on his face when he looks up and directly into the eyes of his boyfriend who is still kneeling in front of their girlfriend holding her hands in a tight grasp.

"Baby? You with me? Let's get you to rest, okay?" Jake sits her up a bit more to get her attention in case she is on the verge of falling asleep. The weak woman nods her head. She needs to lay down, the pain in her back due to her bruised kidney is killing her and she feels chills wrecking her body as if the temperature in the room fell dramatically the last 30 minutes.

But being alone in the bedroom makes her heart skip a beat. She doesn't want to be alone, she needs her boys with her.

Y/n wets her dry lips. "C-can I nap on the couch?" She bats her eyelashes at Jake, because she knows that he would be more at ease to know that she is properly resting in one of their beds. But with her big and beautiful eyes he can't help himself but comply with her wish, with every wish she has.

---

You can literally feel the tension in the Admiral's office. The Admiral was pissed beyond every imagination. Has he ever been so pissed? Probably yes but the urge to give a fuck on his high rank and just beat the shit out this Fillon guy has never been more present than now.

How dare this little military police asshole insinuated that Welsh's behavior is y/n y/ln’s fault.

He tries to calm his rage when he takes a seat behind his big wooden desk. In the sitting position with the desk as a bumper between him and Fillon it's easier to keep his cool.

"What was that, Lieutenant?" The Admiral asks in a stern voice, never breaking his dangerous stare at the man in front of him. He knows how intimidating he can be and now is just the right time to play all his cards.

"What do you mean, Sir?" Fillon tries to play dumb. He doesn't believe in God but today is the first time he really prays to this foreign might to help him out of this mess, he needs a miracle that one is clear.

"Don't play dumb." With as much force as he has the Admiral hits on his desk with his right hand making the man in front of him jump. Maverick and the other Lieutenant standing awkwardly in one corner of the room watching from afar how Fillon digs his own grave only deeper.

"I- I…" Fillon stammers. What should he do? Digging his grave in the Admiral's office or telling the truth about the whole Welsh situation. He just has this two opportunities and he dislikes both of them. The face of the girl, y/n y/ln, comes into his mind. She is beautiful, she seems like a kind and shy young woman. She reminds him of Sarah, his wife. What would he do when Sarah would've been the victim of that kind of crime? When she would've admitted to the hospital after being attacked, beaten and nearly raped. He shudders at the thought of his wife being injured and traumatized. He once again made the wrong decision by helping Welsh.

"We're listening, Lieutenant Fillon." The Admiral's voice softens just a tiny bit to signalize his attention.

"I have a problem…" The man says with his head hanging low, hands trembling in his lap.

---

Y/n shivers when she tries to stand up from her seated position at their dining room table. Her body is stiff and hurting. She's tired, both physically and mentally. Even if she knows that Bradley and Jake and also the Admiral and Maverick believe her Lieutenant Fillon's reaction concerns her.

She feels her knees buckle and the attempt to push her hurting body up by supporting her weight with her arms prop up on the table is not helping at all when she feels an intense pain shooting from her ribs in all her limbs.

Y/n hissing painfully immediately alerts Jake who puts his arms around her smaller frame to hold her body up and preventing it from collapsing back into the chair.

"I got you, baby. Come on, let's get you settled." Jake is more than concerned how quickly their girlfriend has deteriorate after giving her statement. Even if he knows every detail of her injuries and her physical state he somewhat hoped she would not be in such a weak constitution and in pain.

Bradley comes back from the kitchen area with a glass of water and y/n's medication when he sees his boyfriend holding up a very exhausted looking y/n. He hurries further into the direction of the dining table and places the drink and the medication on the table before he rushes on y/n's other side exchanging a worried glance with Jake.

"You two good?" The brunette asks hooking his arm around y/n who seems more out of it than minutes ago.

"Our girl is way past her bedtime." Jake says to lighten the mood while shoving away y/n's chair to finally get her away from the table and on the couch.

"You good to walk?" The blonde asks their girlfriend but doesn't get an answer when she sags into Bradley's chest head hanging low.

"Come on, Princess." Now Bradley tries to get her attention, kissing her sweaty forehead, her body clearly fighting the rekindled fever.

Y/n's weak body welcomes the soft cushions of their spacious couch when she finally sinks down a small content sight leaves her dry lips. 

The brunette aviator sits down beside the shivering woman helping her with the medication. When she finishes the drink completely for the sake of her kidney she looks at Bradley with big glazed over eyes.

"Can- can someone stay with me, please?" She whispers. Y/n is afraid to be alone even when both her boyfriends are just one room away. Giving her statement robbed all her strength and now she is craving some comforting touch of one, even better of both her boyfriends.

She feels a familiar hand stroking some strands of her silky hair away from her forehead.

"There nowhere I rather be, baby. Let's cuddle a bit." Jake speaks up. He is going to stay with y/n maybe even catching up on some sleep while Bradley talks to Maverick to seek information about this Fillon guy how they should handle the whole debacle with one of the Lieutenants clearly not on the side of the victim, on y/n's side.

@djs8891

@darksparklesficrecs

@nerdgirljen

@abaker74

@crazyunsexycool

@itsarabellebabes

@lyn-js

@bibissparkles

@kneelforloki

@gg-trini

[neuroprincess]

Baby's First Tantrum - Melissa Schemmenti/Female Reader

Melissa Schemmenti/Female Reader

Summary: A garden carrot and some earth lead the moms to deal with LuLu's first tantrum.

Classification: Domestic fluff

Warnings: None

Word count: +1300

Unrevised

Formula and breast milk were quickly replaced by a variety of different foods, from fruit and vegetables to meat, occasionally light desserts and often pasta. This is Luca's diet and, to his moms' pride, he eats almost everything without hesitation. But that doesn't mean that the couple give everything or let him eat whatever he wants whenever he wants, they don't give sugar, candies, chocolate or anything with condensed milk, the first sweet he tried was a birthday cake in the first year of life and didn't seem interested. The boy has a great interest in vegetables in particular, taking the beans out of the pods, hunting for pieces of zucchini in the rice, eating pumpkins as if they were watermelon, having fun destroying the "little trees" aka broccoli with teeth, which may have helped his teething more than the dozens of silicone toys bought. He also likes fruit, bananas not so much, apples only in juice, but he loves citrus fruits, can devour an orange easily on his own and loves to crush tangerine slices in chubby little hands before eating it. Any pasta on the colorful plate will disappear in less than half an hour, without even needing help. Sometimes Aunt Kristen fills him up with pumpkin tortelli while no one is looking, his favorite and her most favorite crime. In short, since babyhood he has developed a good relationship with food, with different tastes, colors, scents and textures. It's no different with what's planted and harvested. Mel's mother keeps a vegetable garden at the back of the house, full of healthy tomato plants, bright strawberries, long-stemmed carrots, radishes, green beans and a dozen spices that make the Schemmenti's recipes extra special. It's a sunny Sunday after a rainy week, perfect for checking, fixing and taking care of anything the garden needs, and of course the little boy, who has just learned to run and jump, wanted to join in, exploring the environment and the places he couldn't reach before growing a few inches in the last quarter. There are a few toys that the other grandchildren play with too, flowers in different colors, ceramic decorations from gnomes to colorful frogs, but his main interest is to be around his moms. 

"LuLu, which color is that?" the teacher asks pointing to the blue watering can in hand, seeing it as a great opportunity to teach him colors and new things.  

"Bwue!" he shouts excitedly and shrilly, the way a toddler can "Sky is bwue!"  

"Yes, sweetheart. The sky is blue." Y/N agrees, caressing her son's coppery hair, then puts the bucket hat on to protect him from the strong sun "And the trees?" 

"Yewow!"  

"No, it's green, like grass." she takes some grass from under their feet and shows it to him before putting it in his little hand so he can feel it better "Grass is nice, isn't it?!"  

"Green..." he repeats.  

Luca agrees, opening a big smile, one very similar to the other mom's, showing teeth. Green eyes sparkle as he plays with the small amount of grass, until a gust of wind snatches it away from him and scatters everything across the garden where it belongs. He looks at the scene with sadness and tears in the eyes, a cute little peck if it didn't mean imminent crying. Not only had he inherited his mom's tough and temperamental side, but also her sensitive side, the one she usually showed with family and friends. They had to be alike in every way, she thinks to herself as she lovingly caresses her five-month-old belly, wondering if their little girl will be like that too. Her wife quickly comes to the rescue, attracting attention by acting surprised as she pulls a carrot out of the ground, it's like magic for LuLu, who quickly forgets about the grass and concentrates on the vegetable, enchanted by it... and the brown thing around. 

"And which color is that, bambino?" she asks as he approaches with slow and clumsy steps, there's no answer. Before she can say anything else, the carrot is practically snatched out of her hands, and he immediately tries to put the dirt-filled piece in his mouth, but is stopped by his mom "No, sweet..."

"Mama Mel, mine." the baby protests unsatisfactorily, clenching hands in frustration and frowning in an angry expression "Eat."  

"You'll eat, but first we have to wash the carrots, sweetheart." Melissa gets up, putting the dirty gloves in the pocket of her gardening apron, going to the garden tap to do it.  

"Mama!" he turns to the younger, pointing to the carrot that's moving away from him so that she can do something about it "Mine carrot!"  

"LuLu..."  

"No! No! No! Mine!" he now shouts scandalously while he watches the vegetable being washed "Noooo!" and continues as the teacher approaches, kneeling down to offer the food.  

His agitation only increases with the gesture, Luca continues to shout more and more, like never before. Both try to calm him down patiently explaining why washing is necessary and that he can now eat. This is completely ignored during the child's tantrum. All the boy wants is the carrot as it was before and to eat the dirt together, no matter how much the moms insist that it might be bad for him, it doesn't matter, it's what he wants at the moment and the only thing that matters, his needs. It's not as if they haven't faced some of their son's scenes before, but never like this, on this scale when the boy starts throwing himself on the ground too. Hands and feet hitting the soft grass hard, hot tears running copiously and shrill screams make up the first official tantrum, with the bonus that he's getting very dirty in the process. 

"LuLu, my love, please stand up." Y/N tries to lift him off the ground, without success, considering how chubby and strong he can be, her growing belly not helping at all with the task. 

"Bambino, be a good boy! You don't have to cry like that..." Mel is a little harsher in tone, just like the one she uses when her students are making her lose hair or giving headaches "Look, the carrot is here, mama just took the dirt off, you can eat it now, sweetheart." she tries to point out, only making the situation worse.  

"I want!" he shouts, standing in front of them "Mine!" and takes it from her hands, staring sadly.  

 "Earth is bad for your stomach, love." the younger explains once there is a space for it, and the crying stops momentarily.  

"Carrots eat." even at less than two years old, he already seems to know how to argue "Me too."  

"But earth tastes really bad, you know what it reminds me of? Chocolate, it tastes like chocolate." she tries to argue back, using his aversion to food and how the two things are almost the same color.  

"And that's where the worms live, do you want to leave them without a home? We can't eat someone else's home, LuLu." the redhead helps, patting his back with one hand and wiping away the tears staining his flushed cheeks with the other "Right?"  

"Right!" the boy agrees after thinking for a second and he smiles at them both, and they sigh in relief, then smile at each other. 

He finally gives in and takes a big bite out of the vegetable, not managing to tear off as much as he wanted, but leaving a mark with his teeth and taking just enough to taste it. His eyes close in delight and the toddler flashes a huge smile. Without even remembering that a minute ago he was trying to eat earth, in less than five minutes he totally forgets what he wanted and what has just happened, Luca runs excitedly around the garden exploring every part that his sneaky little legs can take him and hands can reach, all the while eating pieces of his carrot proudly grown by Grandma. A little adventure in the garden on a late Sunday afternoon, the best family time  

"Ready for round two?" Y/N asks as she sits on the garden stool, putting her hand on belly.  

"Ready for her?"   

"Nah, she won't give us any work. I'm talking about making LuLu take a bath, our son is so dirty." 

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Schemmenti Family Masterlist

[wandafiction]

Accent - Just Us Chapter 5

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1805

Series List | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

================================

I'm woken from my slumber by a small slither of sun pushing through the small gap in the blinds. I go to get up, but feel an extra weight on top of me. Oh right Wanda. Looking down I see the beautiful redhead laying practically on top of me, her head resting on my chest hair spread out in many directions. Her mouth partially open, with small and very cute snores being released with her calm breathing. Her arms wrapped around my chest securely, with her legs tangled with mine. She looks so peaceful. This is different, I don't normally wake up with my one night stand still here. Usually they get what they want and either leave during the night or at some point in the morning.

I feel her shuffle on top of me, so I hold my breath hoping the early morning sunrise hasn't woken her up. It takes a few seconds but she seems to settle back down and a small huff of air escapes her lips...good she is still sleeping. Gently, I remove her arms from my chest so I can lean over to the bedside table; grabbing the remote for the blinds, making sure to shut them and turn off the timer for when they open. I know high tech. I then use another remote to set the lights around the room to a soft ember colour to set a calm atmosphere. They are on a low as to not wake the sleeping beauty on top of me, but bright enough so when she does wake up she can see what she is doing and not in total darkness. 

Slowly, I crawl out of bed but stop and turn to look back at my bedside table where the picture sits. It's a beautiful picture. An brunette haired woman standing under a beautiful white archway covered in pink roses. Her white dress glistened in the sunlight as the picture captured it moving about in the wind. The woman is smiling the biggest toothy grin in the world while holding hands with another woman under the same archway. They both have so much love in their eyes. Picture perfect. I move back to the table and move the picture into one of the draws placing some paperwork on top of it. Must remember it's there though.

Heading straight out my door, closing it gently behind me. Heading to the bathroom further down the hallway so I can shower and brush my teeth, I do have an ensuite but I feel like being woken up by someone's morning routine in practically the same room as you can be deemed a rude awakening. I hop in the shower once I deem the water a hot enough temperature, wincing slightly when it hits my back. I turn to see why and my eyes bulge a little bit when I see the scratch marks on my back, I'm going to wear them with pride...anyway. I wash everything including my hair. Both of us were too tired last night to do proper after care in the shower or bath so a wet towel was the solution. 

Smoothing out my long hair took a while, nothing a bit of conditioner can't help with, and am now making my way to one of the guest bedrooms to get some clothes. Walking into the walk-in closet, I tie my wet hair up into a messy bun not caring what it would look like. I don't have to go to work so it doesn't matter. Deciding on a pair of loose jogging bottoms and sports bra, I make my way down to the kitchen to start some coffee and get a head start on some work that needs doing. 

"S.U.S.I.E let me know when my bedroom door opens please. Don't scare the guest by introducing yourself, just inform me." I say into the quiet kitchen.

"Of course Boss." S.U.S.I.E is my interface in this place, much like Tony Stark's F.R.I.D.A.Y system I have S.U.S.I.E.

"Play Morning Vibes Playlist from Spotify, low volume. Limited to the kitchen only." With that the sound of music gently starts playing as I shuffle over to the coffee machine I have.

Electing not to wake Wanda by the sound of grinding beans, I use my kettle (very handy thank you Europe) and place a scoop or two of the coffee grounds I have into a cafetiere. I'm a fancy coffee drinker, sue me. I dance around the kitchen a little, losing myself to the soft music as I open up my laptop, letting it wake itself up. I spin back to the kettle, pouring the water to the top of the cafetiere just in case Wanda wakes up and it's still hot. I grab a large cup from the cupboard and put some caramel syrup around the inside of it and bring it and the cafetiere over to the counter next to my laptop. I settle down on the stool and load up my emails to get to work. 

It's been about 20 minutes since I sat down when I hear the robotic voice above me. "Boss, your bedroom door has been opened, the guest is on their way down."

"Thank you S.U.S.I.E. Start up the hob for me." I hear the flick of the switch informing me she has in fact done as asked. God I love technology sometimes. 

I save my work, hopping off the stool to grab the pancake mix, a pan and two plates. Putting the pan on the heat I slowly pour in some of the pancake mix swaying my hips to the songs that still echo through the kitchen. Humming to myself I completely go into my own world forgetting that I have a guest, until I feel her wrap her arms around my waist and place her head between my shoulder blades. 

"Good Morning." Holy shit! She has a fucking accent. That's so Fucking hot. She didn't have an accent last night, maybe it's because she is tired. 

"Good morning Wanda. How are you feeling? Also I like the accent." I feel her stuff her face more into my back, it is slightly hotter than a minute ago. Aww she is blushing.

"The accent only comes out early in the morning or when I'm very emotional. And I'm feeling amazing, last night was amazing. Thank you, though I am a little sore not going to lie." I hear her giggle behind me. 

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed last night, sorry about making you sore. Maybe after food you should have a bath, relax, unless you have anywhere to be? The accent I know is...Sokovian right? Also glad I'm hearing this because you're tired and not emotional. Angry Sokovians are scary as fuck." Her laughs are muffled by my shirt but I can feel her nod.

"Mhmm, I am from Sokovia, how did you know? What day is it?" I now turn around to meet her eyes after plating up the pancakes and handing her her plate.

Wanda is wearing my dress shirt from last night that comes right down almost covering all her thighs. She looks so cute and hot all at the same time in my shirt. She thanks me before moving to the stool to sit and eat while I lean against the counter to eat.

"I have been to Sokovia a few times. Helped out with some relief foundations down there, but put some of my own money into helping the people down there. And for the day it's Saturday. Did we really go that many rounds that you forgot the day? She hums in thought. 

"I lost count at like round 6." I let out a laugh, Stamina seems to be our strong suit. "Well I don't have work today so a bath sounds like a good way to relax. What did you think of Sokovia?" Wanda likes asking questions.

"Ever the curious one, aren't you Wanda?" I move to sit next to her offering her some coffee which seems to excite her a lot. "I think Sokovia is a very beautiful country, yes it has issues and to anyone on the outside just sees the civil war going on there. But for someone who has been there multiple times and for months on end, it is a hidden gem of the world." 

"You are not just saying that to impress the sokovian woman sitting in front of you?" I turn to look at her, she has decided to hide the accent going back into her American one. Odd. 

"Not at all. There is just something about Sokovia...it's almost magical. Sure the newly instated leader Ultron is, how do I say…"

"A fucking dick!?" Wanda interrupts with a small laugh.

"Glad to see we think the same of the man. But other than Ultron and his few followers it is truly a beautiful country." 

"It is indeed. I don't meet many people from Sokovia out here in the States, all too afraid to leave you know?" She finishes off her coffee and pancakes standing up from her stool. "Uh, which way is the bathroom?" 

"I will show you. S.U.S.I.E set up the guest bath please." 

"Of course Boss." Wanda jumps a little at the unknown voice.

"Sorry Wanda I forgot to say. S.U.S.I.E is a very helpful interface around the house, if you need anything just say S.U.S.I.E and then what you need her to do for you."

"Wow okay, thanks." She gives me a shy smile.

"S.U.S.I.E this is Miss Maximoff please save her voice in your system as such. If she requires anything today she may call upon you." 

"Understood Boss. Welcome Miss Maximoff." 

I lead Wanda back upstairs to the guest room, which has a big ensuite bathroom too with a bath big enough to comfortably fit two people in and still have room to move about. I lay a towel and some spare clothes down on the sink counter and make my way towards the door.

"Thank you y/n. Truly, the small gesture of breakfast and a bath are really appreciated. I mean it's been a while, and it feels nice to be treated like this." Wasn't expecting that.

"It's not a problem at all Wanda. It's just basic human respect and decency to ensure that someone is cared for afterwards." She gives me a shy smile and nod, I turn to leave the bathroom before turning to look at her once again. "Oh and Wanda."

"Yeah?" She turns to look at me, our eyes meeting easily.

"Don't hide the accent, it's cute. You don't need to pretend to be someone your not around me." She blushes slightly but has the biggest smile on her face. I leave, gently closing the door behind me.

================================

[marabelle5]

Shrub is a gnome and can talk to wolves and she can turn invisible but there is a faint blue out line of her but when she is on Mother Wolf she and Mother Wolf can turn fully invisible.

Scott has ice powers and is an elf. As the Ice King he has deer antlers and snowy owl wings.

Sausage is a human. He can do magic and half the time it goes well, and after the other half his time is spent helping Gem clean up the mess he made.

Pix is the immortal Keeper of the Vigil who once ruled over the now ruined Pixandria. He can see people's deaths and technically if he put out any one of the thousands of candles he could kill someone but he needs a permit from Lady Death for that. He also can't burn in fire. Everyone thinks he's human though.

Pearl is an avian with the use of some magic she some how has she can change her wing color. Her natural wing color is golden yellow and that orange from her season 1 wings. Another is color is black making her wings look of those of a ravens. The Farmer Queen has be seen making big green bean stalks to wrap The Hermits in. She can control plants. She hides the fact that she is an avian when she is Pearl.

Lizzie is a blue axolotl hybrid. She like Pearl hides as much as she can while in the city but she does have her ear fins showing. She can control water and can talk to ocean creatures.

Kathrine is a fairy, she hides fairy wings at work so only her pointy ears are showing. She can grow flowers and is the teams healer.

Joey is also an avian but he doesn't hid it like Pearl does, he has macaw wings they are a light blue color and yellow on the insides of the feathers. No one really knows his powers but he does hold a weird golden totem everywhere he goes as The Lost Emperor.

Joel is a human who can bring statues to life.

Jimmy is a cod hybrid and can speak to cod only cod. He can control water. He hides the fact that he is a cod hybrid very well.

Gem is an elf like Scott she has deer antlers unlike Scott she doesn't have wings. She has some form of telekinesis and she can cast spells.

fWhip is an elf but does not have deer horns instead for some reason he has dragon wings which he hides when he's not the Count or at home.

[pansy-placebo]

This is your sign to get That Thing that you've thought would be useful for a long time, but didn't think you should get it for whatever reason. This is the sign to get that thing.

I bought a shower chair, a phone holder for the shower, and a powered scrubber. And my life is forever changed.

Context: I've been pretty open about how, for the past year or so, I've been increasingly struggling with bathing. I used to shower roughly every other day, and gradually that became about once a week, and then further, and then to the point where I genuinely don't know how often I've been bathing. It's just been deodorant and dry shampoo for a long, long time.

This is because I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS) and dissociative issues. Everything way is way more mentally and physically taxing with CFS, and the dissociation makes it doubly hard to focus. My phone would be blasting some video outside the shower to keep me present, but afterwards I'd still be exhausted for at least the rest of the day.

I got around the problem a little by taking "spit baths" or "bird baths", basically washing the important parts in the sink. Then I'd use deodorant for the rest (which, as long as I semi-regularly changed my clothes, went well /gen). I went a long time using primarily these methods, as it uses overall less energy than a full shower.

But smelling good and being basically hygienic ≠ feeling clean. I was getting the important parts, but I only ever feel clean when I've thoroughly showered.

So. After a great deal of consideration, I decided to get a shower chair and a water-resistant phone holder, and while I was on the webpage, I saw a neat powered body scrubber thingy I've always wanted, and ordered it in the spur of the moment. The phone holder arrived yesterday, the chair and scrubber today.

I've included some reference pictures for anyone who doesn't know what I'm talking about

And today, I finally took a shower with all the little things I've wanted. The phone holder and the shower chair and the electric scrubber thingy and. Holy shit. I feel better after this shower than any shower I've had in well over a year. Maybe even two years at this point.

It was a little awkward at first, I'm not used to sitting in the shower, but once I got used to everything it was an overall amazing experience.

I actually started laughing at some point, because all those things I've wanted, but for some reason had been afraid of getting, made it so much easier that it felt absurd and delightful and I enjoyed bathing for once!!

Once the shower was over, I grabbed the towel and sat on the shower chair to dry, something new for me. And, once I got out, I immediately got changed into fresh clothes instead of spending hours laying in bed recuperating.

I went and made myself dinner just now!!! Granted, it was just microwave baked beans, but I can never cook after bathing!!!

Anyway I'm sitting here drying and cozy in my usual Warm Things and feeling very, very happy about my purchases.

The moral of this story is that if you have the ability to get something that you suspect will make your life easier, get it.

It doesn't matter whether you're sick or not, it doesn't matter if you're diagnosed, it doesn't matter if you can technically get by without it. It doesn't matter if the thing is for "old people" and you're young, it doesn't matter if it's for disabled people and you're not sure if you "count" because you "only have" [the mental or physical issue that's affecting you].

Get the fucking thing. If it will make your life better, you should get it. It won't be a waste of money if it makes you less miserable, whatever it is.

Do not deny yourself the tools you need to live comfortably and happily.

You have my permission and my endorsement, if that means anything to you.

Xxx. Pansy

P.s. stay tuned because I'll be getting a powered wheelchair or scooter in the coming months. The moment I figure out how to do it, I will. I should have gotten one when I was first diagnosed but I didn't. I will not be repeating my past mistakes and denying myself the tools I need to live comfortably and happily.

[gyunglitter]

➷ 02 ➷

-“oh, the way he makes me feel that love isn’t real -– cupid is so dumb”

or

unlike you, your brother’s best friend just doesn’t know when to quit

word count: 3,626

warnings: probably one or two curse words, longing from beomgyu ehe, not much tbh

tags: brother’s-best-friend!beomgyu x reader, ??? to ???, angst, fluff(??), beomgyu is the cool boy-next-door, reader is an independent girlboss (or trying to be, at least), beomgyu’s gonna be GROVELING, simp!gyu, pathetic pining from both sides lol, maybe some cringe from reader (she was a teenage girl in love, have some empathy plz😭)

notes: yall, i ACTUALLY edited this chapter. if it sucks, no it doesn't😘

i would actually love it if some of y'all that are enjoying the story to leave me some feedback? some of you guys reblogging leave the funniest things and i super appreciate it! hope you guys like it!!

–> masterlist &lt;–

It had been a long dinner with an even longer catching up at the dinner table afterwards. Your brother was very curious about how the culture was where you went, while your parents were eager to hear about the education. Beomgyu, ironically, had been quiet for the rest of the night. He seemed to kind of fade into the background while you and your family were catching up, which you definitely weren’t complaining about. But that didn’t stop the nonstop questions about your personal life, to which you masterfully avoided by distracting everyone with funny stories from yours and Soobin’s childhood. There were a lot of laughs, shouting, and tears by the end when everyone decided to call it quits.

“I can do the dishes, eomma,” you suggested.

“Thanks, bean,” your mom sighed, leaning back in her chair.

You got up from your seat and started picking up a couple of stray plates around the table. Your brother took it upon himself to grab the remaining dishes you missed and stacked them on top of each other for you.

You silently thanked your brother as you went to grab the pile, but you were interrupted by Beomgyu swiping them just a bit faster.

He looked at you and said, “I’ll help, too.”

You opened your mouth to deny him, but your mother beat you to it.

“That’s so sweet of you, Beomgyu!”

You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your slight annoyance, and merely turned on your heel and went towards the kitchen to the sink. You’d caught the way Beomgyu’s lips quirked up at your expense, which only irked you more.

“Oh, goodie,” you groan.

Beomgyu laughed, that familiar tinkling sound echoing through your mother’s large kitchen. “Wow, no, ‘thank you, oppa, you’re so kind!’ or ‘you’re so progressive, oppa, I’m so grateful!’ or –”

“Shut up or I’ll drown you,” you interrupted, filling the sink with water and soap.

Beomgyu tried not to laugh in your face as he rolled his eyes and started rolling up his sleeves. You couldn’t help your eyes from wandering to his newly exposed forearms, unconsciously admiring the veins running down his arms to his hands. Oh god, his hands.

“Oh no! Not a little bit of water! What ever will I do–?!”

Beomgyu shut up the moment you shot a stream of water in his face with the sink’s spray head. He gasped when the water splashed down his face and onto his dress shirt. It was silent in the kitchen as he gaped at you, while you stared back with a blank stare.

“Told ya.”

Eight Years Ago

“Why can’t I go?!”

“Why the hell would I bring a middle schooler to hang out with my friends?”

“Who cares how old I am? I’m as tall as your friends, anyway!”

You and Soobin had been arguing ever since Beomgyu dropped by to pick up Soobin for their high school team’s senior night football game. It was supposed to be your brother’s school rivals playing, so you knew it was going to be an awesome night, regardless if your team won or not. But you knew your brother’s team would, since they still had star players Jeon Jungkook and Jung Hoseok before they were going off to college. It was their last game and you wanted to see it!

Right when you saw Beomgyu, you immediately begged him to let you come with, but your brother rejected it profusely. He wasn’t super close with the guys he was going to hang out with tonight (Hyunjin and Jeongin) since they knew Beomgyu more, and he refused to give them another reason to think he was a loser. Especially by bringing his little sister to a highschool game that would definitely turn into a celebratory afterparty.

“Why can’t little Y/n come tonight, Soob?” Beomgyu laughed, twirling his new car keys on his index. Beomgyu had just passed his driver’s test and his parents already got him a new car, which he was driving to the game for the first time tonight. 

And if this may or may not be the biggest reason you wanted to go tonight, then who cares?

“See! Even oppa wants me to come,” you whined.

“Y/n, no. You’re not coming,” Soobin declared, putting his hands on his hips. “I’m not babysitting you tonight, or leaving the party early just because it’s your bedtime!”

“Dude, you’re the most introverted person I know!” Beomgyu shoved his hands into his pockets and scoffed, “I bet thirty bucks when we’re an hour into the party that you’ll be wishing you had a good excuse to leave.”

Soobin rolled his eyes but stayed firm. “She’s not coming, I mean it. Even if she were older, I’m not letting anybody near her where they can defile her, or something.”

You could feel yourself practically screaming with how mad you were. Turning toward the stairs and looking up, you called for your best back up plan.

“EOMMA!” you screamed.

“WHAT?!”

“OPPA WON’T LET ME GO TO THE GAME WITH HIM AND BEOMGYU!”

You ignored Soobin’s scoff and his complaints about you behind your back as you yelled for your mother’s help. However, his anger stopped at her response.

“IF HE DOESN’T WANT YOU TO GO, THEN YOU CAN’T GO!”

Your jaw dropped as Soobin cheered, yelling his gratitude to your mother.

“But, eomma!” you cried.

“You can’t make him, Y/n! If he doesn’t want to, then he doesn’t have to. You can do something else tonight, I’ll even hang out with you, if you want! We haven’t played Candyland in forever,” your mom reasoned, making your face drop and cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

You grit your teeth and turned back to the two boys who were throwing on their jackets and heading out the door.

“Whatever! I hope we lose and you guys get pantsed at the party,” you growled, folding your arms.

“Yeah, yeah. Have fun playing Candyland with eomma before your bubble bath!” Soobin cackled as he finished putting on his shoes and left.

Beomgyu, however, had his free hand on the door frame and stood in place for a second. Then, he turned toward you with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, Y/n, maybe next time,” he said.

You pouted. “Yeah right I never get to hang out with you guys anymore, you ditched me after starting high school. Just go have fun with your cool new friends and drive in your cool new car, or whatever.”

“You really wanna ride in my car, don’t ya,” Beomgyu teased, but you were not amused. You only kept glaring at him, which made him sigh and stop playing with his keys to run his hand through his hair. 

He’d recently started growing it out a bit, and you could tell he wasn’t quite used to it yet. Every time he got hair in his eyes or blew a strand out of the way, it made you want to run your hands through it for him. But for now, you settled with watching him ruffle it out of his face with his own hands instead.

“How about this,” he proposed, turning his body towards you fully. “Tonight, you have an awesome time with your mom before beating the crap out of her in Candyland, and I’ll take you for a ride in my car some other time?”

Your eyes widened at that.

“Seriously?” you asked, lips parted and ears heating up.

“Seriously,” Beomgyu grinned. “But only if you win!”

It took you a second, but you smiled widely at the boy in front of you and nodded vigorously. “Yes! Okay! Awesome, thanks oppa!”

He let out a laugh and went back to twirling his keys, nodding at you before walking out the door and closing it behind him.

You ran over to the window next to your front door and watched as Beomgyu approached his car, unlocking the doors while Soobin whined at him.

“Dude, what took you so long?” he complained.

Beomgyu merely shook his head with a smile on his face.

“Nothing, let’s go.”

They drove off, leaving you with the reddest cheeks and a strong determination. After looking all over for that damned game, you stormed upstairs to your parents room and demanded to start playing. Your mother was thoroughly shocked since–apparently– she was just joking. It didn’t matter to you, though. You sat your parents down and initiated the most intense game of board games that family recreational activities had ever seen. 

To say you annihilated your mom and dad at Candyland was an understatement, to which you sent a celebratory selfie to Beomgyu as proof for him to hold up his end of the deal.

You’d finally finished drying off all the dishes with Beomgyu and wanted nothing more than to get away from him. After multiple attempts to start a conversation with you, to splashing you with water, then to purposefully getting the dishes you just cleaned dirty again, you’d had enough.

“Ya know, I don’t usually like doing the dishes all that much,” Beomgyu started, “so I think it’s safe to say that I couldn’t have done it without you!”

He had that same teasing tone to him, the one that always made you laugh and smile at him without a care in the world of whether his joke had gone too far or not. Anything Beomgyu did used to make you happy. But now, it seemed like his voice could only annoy you.

“Yeah? Probably because I did it all,” you deadpanned.

He laughed. “I will admit that you carried me a lot, but I think I did a good job at handing you the plates and encouraging you. I’m no dishwasher, but I’m a mean moral support-er.”

You sighed heavily as he grinned at you, trying to ignore him as you started to walk away from him. 

Your parents were already upstairs while Soobin was on the phone with who you could easily guess was Yeonjun as he was insulting the person on the other side, but with the widest smile on his face. There were only three people in the world who he could easily do that to, and two of them were standing in this home.

Rolling your eyes fondly at your brother as he waved at you in passing, you went outside onto your front patio instead. It was warm enough to not need a jacket out, so you enjoyed the light breeze blowing by you as you sat down on the front steps. The sky was clear, making the stars much more prominent than you’d seen in a long time.

It was peaceful like this. You missed it.

But of course, peace couldn’t last forever when Choi Beomgyu was near.

“I’m sorry.”

His tone, unlike before, was a soft whisper. A sound so quiet that it would have gotten lost in the wind if your ears weren’t so trained to listen for his voice. Even after years of not hearing it.

You closed your eyes for a moment before scoffing.

“What are you sorry for?”

Beomgyu sighed from behind you. “You know why.”

You only shook your head, but he wasn’t taking that.

“What happened between you and me…” he swallowed, struggling to get his next words out, “before you left…was so shitty of me. You didn’t deserve that.”

You bit your lip to stop the sigh that wanted to leave you. You’d already done that a lot tonight. “Beomgyu, please.”

“No!”

Beomgyu sat down beside you, his arm lightly grazing yours as he settled down.

“I was such a douchebag to you, Y/n. A-and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it!” he cried, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “I know you must hate me after everything, I know I would–hell, I do!”

You shook your head again. It was literally your first night back. You never wanted to have this conversation, let alone so soon. 

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

You went to get up, but Beomgyu softly grabbed your arm. The action was so sudden, it surprised you enough to look down at him and notice his sleeve was still rolled up. His rough arm led to the calloused hand that held your wrist, before it slowly slid to your hand.

“Please stay, Y/n. I’ve waited four years just to talk to you again. To see you again,” he pleaded. “You don’t want to hear me apologize? Okay, fine. But just…don’t leave me without you again.”

You stared down at him, finding it miraculous to see his eyes wide with emotion you couldn’t define, but being drawn in by how much they yearned. For you. 

You sat back down on the step next to him and slipped your hand out of his. There was only so much you could handle.

It was silent for a while, with you not looking at him at all as you tried to calm your mind and erase the look in his eyes before you got stuck in the rabbit hole you’d spent years trying to climb out of.

“Well,” he cleared his throat to fill the silence between the both of you. “Besides the problematic factor of myself, how does it feel to be home?”

You felt a scoff leave your lips at his question and your predicament. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Weird question?” he asked, making you shake your head in slight disbelief and slight amusement.

“Everything about this is weird, Beomgyu,” you murmured.

He sighed in agreement, and probably nodded, but you wouldn’t know because you still refused to look at him.

“Yeah, I know…” he mumbled, letting the silence take over you both once again.

With the absence of conversation and his words being the last thing you heard, his dejected tone was something you pondered on. You know, there was a long period of time after you left that you’d only wanted to hear that kind of tone from him: sounding just as miserable and broken as he’d left you. 

But actually hearing it from him, you realized you didn’t enjoy it all that much.

“I haven’t been able to see the stars like this in forever,” you whispered, choosing to focus on the sky. “If there was one thing I really missed from home, it was the sky.”

“Really?”

You nodded reluctantly, following the different constellations with your eyes. “I lived in the city for school. But even if we didn’t have the light pollution, it’s not like I ever had the time to look up and see them, anyway.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

It was quiet for a moment, before Beomgyu spoke again.

“Did you have any stars out there?”

You sighed a little when you thought for a second on what he said. And then on what he really said. 

“Not like this.”

He hummed in response, and left it at that, finally letting you just sit there for a long while in perfect silence.

From what you could remember of all the years of knowing Beomgyu, he was a loud person. Around family, friends, people he liked–he was like a ball of light bursting through every gloomy seam. Group settings were his specialty, whether he was the “coolest” guy in the room or not, he didn’t care; he would talk your ear off or tell a randomly hilarious story that either left you as the best of friends, or extremely weirded out. It didn’t matter to him, because when he was happy, everyone would know by how loud he was.

That’s why it would shock you, no matter how many times he did it, that he would get so mellow when it was just the two of you. You always adored the Beomgyu that could easily capture a room with just his laugh. But after learning about his other side, you would yearn even more for the Beomgyu that you felt like only you ever got to see. The him that came out when he was truly content and wasn’t “performing” for anyone.

You loved his loudness, but you also loved your quiet moments with him. They told you more about him than any other moments you had together. And after this particular moment with him, you realized this was probably the most you could let yourself handle for now.

“I really should head back in,” you muttered after what felt like an eternity.

Beomgyu sighed, not taking his eyes off of the sky above him. “I know.”

“You should go home.”

“I know.”

You slowly got up from your seat, patting off your legs, and started to move back inside. You’d made it to your door before you turned around and noticed Beomgyu hadn’t moved an inch, nor taken his eyes off of the stars. He had a frown marring his features, casting a deep line on his forehead that hadn’t been there four years ago. You could tell he wasn’t going to be moving for a while, which concerned you.

You bit your lip and rubbed one of your ears that you could already feel was starting to heat up.

“I don’t hate you,” you mumbled.

Beomgyu’s head snapped towards you, his eyes wide and his lips parted. “What?”

“I don’t hate you,” you repeated. “I never could, Beomgyu…even when I wanted to.”

He let out a deep breath and looked at you so softly, you used all of your energy and dignity to maintain eye contact.

“Goodnight, Beomgyu…”

You left after that, going back inside.

And despite arguing with yourself for years, you thought for a second that maybe you haven't changed that much, since you took a moment to peek outside the window beside the door to see Beomgyu slowly getting off your porch. He took his time, most likely lost in thought, as he eventually looked down from the stars to instead look back at your house. You quickly backed away from the window, glad he wouldn’t have been able to see you since it was so dark outside, but even more glad to see the line on his forehead gone as his lips parted once again with a small smile on his face.

“So, how was the game?” you asked over a bowl of cereal, looking up at Soobin.

The poor guy had dark bags under his reddened eyes, messy bed hair, and his face was puffier than usual. You’d been way past asleep by the time he had gotten home, but were eager to talk to him about his night when you woke up. Beomgyu had texted you not too long after you’d been up and about, but you figured you would “leave him waiting” to not come off as so desperate to talk to him. Instead, you went downstairs to eat some breakfast and weasel information out of your brother. Unfortunately for you, Soobin was out of commission for the next few hours. Even now, he was still not fully ready for a conversation.

“It was fun,” he yawned.

He rested his head on the table, while you tried not to laugh at him. You usually liked teasing Soobin, but he was too vulnerable at the moment, and you had a curiosity that could only be quenched by his answers.

“Define, ‘fun’. Did we win? Was the party crazy? Did you talk to that one girl you like? Did they play Bebe Rexha?”

He moaned. “Yes, yes, no, and of course they played Bebe Rexha! It’s not a party if she’s not there!”

You giggled at that, nodding in approval as you scooped another serving of your cereal. “That sounds so cool, I’m glad you had fun! Did you dance with anyone? What was the most memorable moment, oppa?”

“So many questions,” he groaned. “Why do you care so much?”

You lightly kicked his shin under the table. “You ditched me last night! This is literally the least you could do for me, oppa.”

The both of you squinted at the other, before Soobin gave in.

He thought for a moment, before he snorted and let out an ‘ah’. “I didn’t talk to any girls last night, so nothing crazy happened for me. But Beomgyu actually hooked up with one of the hottest girls in our grade and the whole grade is freaking out about it; Hyunjin and Jeongin have been blowing up my phone all morning.”

Your spoon tumbled from your fingers as you felt your stomach drop.

“Ah, Jesus, Y/n!” Soobin groaned, his head hurting from the sudden noise of your spoon clinking against your bowl, worsening his horribly hidden hangover.

“Oh, s-sorry oppa…” you mumbled, picking up your cereal.

“Hey, where are you going?” asked Soobin, lifting his head a little.

You gently placed your bowl in the sink and stuttered, “Uh, I, um–I gotta go finish my homework. I’ll s-see you later!”

And with that, you ran upstairs to text Beomgyu back.

from: beomgyuuu!! <3

did you wanna go for a ride today? this new corndog place just opened up and i was hoping you and i could go try it!

to: beomgyu

hey, i actually can’t today. gotta help my mom with something

from: beomgyu

ah bummer :(((

next time?

to: beomgyu

yeah, fs

from: beomgyu

great! I still owe you, so don’t let me forget it <3

You stared at the heart at the end of his message, feeling like it was mocking you. You should’ve known that promise didn’t mean what you thought, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Just like how you couldn’t help yourself for the next five years after that. This had only been the first of many times he would break your heart.

–> next <–

[a1307s]

Flickers of Green #2

(Dick Grayson & Jason Todd)

[Art is not mine! Credit to fish-goat]

Requested by: quirkyshortdumbo11

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 6,214

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Cursing

Mentions of Death

———————————————————————

I walk out of the abandoned building, the sounds of my gunshot and the now-dead drug lord's screaming still ringing in my head.

Nowadays it seems that these sounds comfort me more than Bruce ever could. Fucking Bruce. I hate him. I hate Batman. I hate the Joker. I hate myself for letting Y/N die. For dragging her to her death. For not being able to save her. For me being the one that's alive.

I can't let guilt cloud my mind right now. It's hard to kill someone as you're feeling guilty for causing the death of someone else. I need something to clear my head, something to reset myself. Coffee should help, it always did when I was originally alive.

I glance around, trying to get my wits together and figure out where the nearest coffee shop is. I tug my phone out of my jacket, taking a glance at the time. Nine thirty-two. Late but not too late, except for coffee. I don't know if anywhere with a decent cup of Joe will be open. I don't need that watered-down bean soup shit they serve at gas stations.

Pamela's cafe will be open. They're always open. I don't want to go there though. The last thing I need is more memories of Y/N.

I do a quick Google search, hoping to find any other cafe open, but I don't. I don't need coffee, but I do need something to eat and a donut sounds so good right now. I can't even remember what a donut tastes like. I'll just have to eat my feelings alongside the donut then.

I pull up Google Maps, glancing over it quickly before heading towards the cafe. The plus side of Pamela's is that the staff is pretty chill with anything; heroes, villains, and citizens alike.

It seems that in the past couple of years, the girls on staff have been adopted by some of the villains. I see Ivy, Scarecrow, and Harley coming and going from there a lot.

When I was at the Iceberg Lounge - aka Penguin's bar, strip club, and not-so-underground business - he mentioned that he "keeps up" on the girls and pays some of their tuition. He also mentioned there's a new girl that started a couple of months ago and that she's "a feisty little one that doesn't fear shit". That coming from Penguin is a bit of an honor. Not many people can get a compliment like that from him.

Maybe I'll meet this feisty new girl tonight. Maybe I'll take her home. I could use the distraction. However, I don't usually end up doing anything with them when I do get them home. I usually just lose my shit cause it's not the same as it was with Y/N.

I switch between being mad and being indifferent about being unable to move on from her. She died only ever loving me, why can't I live only ever loving her?

The neon lights of the cafe cut into my line of sight along with cutting through my thoughts. I forgot how obnoxious all the neon was. Standing right outside the cafe is Penguin and a young girl. She's in the 50s dinner uniform Pamela's staff wears. She's also wrapped up in a fancy-looking coat.

I feel half bad for the girl. If she's working at a cafe, she can't afford a coat like that, which means it's from the Penguin. It's never good for anyone - much less a young girl - to be in debt to Penguin.

My pace slows as I approach them. "Come on Feisty, just let me pay for your courses. Then you wouldn't have to work so much."

"No, I'm good. I don't mind supporting myself." The girl's voice is soft but firm as she speaks. Maybe she isn't as stupid as I thought.

"Listen here you little bitch-"

"No, you listen here you fucking flightless bird," the girl yells back, causing a bit of laughter to brew in my chest. "I already told you I don't want your money and unlike most of the other girls, I don't owe you shit so back off."

"And if I don't?" He asks, starting to turn the head on his cane. Under the head is usually a knife that Penguin is known to use on people when he doesn't get his way.

The girl yanks the cane away before any damage can be done, causing shock in both the bird and me. "If you don't I'll stab you to death with your own cane. Go back to your dumb pimp square." Penguin stands there for a second, just staring at the girl before he walks away mumbling to himself. His wobble is more present than usual now that he doesn't have his cane to support him. The club owner wasn't kidding about this girl not being scared of anything, or at least she was good at pretending.

Now that the fat man isn't in the way, I'm able to see the girl he was talking to. As my eyes scan over her my mind both empties and explodes. Standing in the neon lights is the spitting image of Y/N, which is impossible... because she's dead.

Or is it? I'm technically dead and yet here I am. But if she was alive, she would have looked for me, right? Like I did for her? She would at least be at the manor, right? Bruce would take her back in or at the very least Dick would... right? Or maybe she didn't want to go back to them. Maybe she's mad at them too.

Y/N - I think it's her - turns on her heels, heading down the road. I need to follow her. If she is my Y/N I need to know. I need to be a hundred percent certain. At the very least, if it's not Y/N I should still watch the girl get home safe after she disagreed with Penguin.

What if it's not Y/N? What if it is? What if this is a trap? Is Al Ghul fucking with my head again? Did he set this up to trap me back within the League? Even if he did, I need to know what's going on. Just in case it is a trap, I stay hidden. I'll have the element of surprise if shit does go south.

I follow this girl, not paying much attention to where she's going but making sure to keep pace with her. If it is my Y/N I can't lose her again from careless mistakes.

My mind runs a mile a minute as I trail her. I need answers, I need to hold her, I need her to be Y/N.

Maybe-Y/N turns, making my heart race. Fear of losing her around the corner mixes with the joy of a split second of light enveloping her.

I catch a glimpse behind her ear. When we were twelve, right before Bruce took us in, we thought it would be a good idea to give each other stick-and-poke tattoos. We tattooed each other's names behind our ears. My name is there, behind her left ear, in my chicken scratch handwriting. It has to be her. There's no way Al Ghul could know about that. I don't even think Bruce knows about our matching tattoos.

My pace quicks as I slide around the corner after her. I need her. I need to tell her I'm here. I need - it's a trap.

Hands land on me, throwing me to my right. My boots slide against the gravel on the sidewalk, aiding in me losing my balance. I fall hard, harder than the Roman Empire.

On my way down, my helmet comes into contact with a trash can. The noise echoes within my disguise, promising to give me a headache.

"What the hell?" I bark, quickly getting back to my feet. I should have known this was too good to be true. I should have known it was a trap. I should have known to pay attention to my surroundings. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Once the sound rattling around my helmet quiets some I'm able to get a grip on my surroundings. Standing in front of me is Dick Grayson in his signature black and blue spandex suit. "Fucking Nightwing," I husk out, shaking my head to get the last of the echoes out.

"Hood," he answers, positioning himself for a throwdown.

From my last run-in with Bruce, it's evident he knows who I am. Despite his attempt to hide it, the Bat was throwing his punches. I'm guessing from the greeting that he didn't share his findings with Dick.

But fine, if a fight is what Nightwing wants, a fight is what he'll get. It shouldn't be difficult to get him down.

I cautiously walk toward him, preparing myself to swing. One easy hit. Just one to knock him down long enough for me to sneak off and find Y/N.

I swing at him, but he ducks. What a little shit. I don't want trouble, I just want to go find - he thinks I'm stalking her. Dick thinks I'm stalking Y/N. Does he know it's Y/N?

"Just move aside, Wing, it's not what you think," I call out louder than I meant to. I throw another punch, trying to get him down again. I don't have time for this. I don't have the want to explain who I am and who I'm chasing after.

Dick needs to get out of my way before I lose Y/N. I can't lose her again. I'd burn the Earth to a crisp before I let that happen.

My thoughts distract me, making me lag as Nightwing tries to sweep my feet out from under me. I almost managed to avoid it but do end up tripping a bit from my late reaction.

"You're a notorious killer chasing after a girl, what else am I supposed to think?" Grayson calls, his cocky attitude present in his words. Well, that answers my question; he doesn't know it's Y/N. Or who I am. Or maybe he does and doesn't want me to know that he's connected to her. I hate the hush-hush behaviors we both inherited from Bruce.

I stumble back, again causing my helmet to come into contact with more metal. I'm definitely going to have a piercing headache for the next couple of hours. Great.

As the object behind me catches my fall, my guns slide across it, reminding me of their presence. If he's not going to go down with physical force, a gunshot sure as hell will work.

Nightwing approaches me, pulling his weapon out from behind his back. He's mumbling, probably answering whoever is on the other end of his coms. Great, I'm going to have to go through Batman too to get to Y/N. If that's the case, so be it. Bruce's name is as good as carved into my bullets if that's what it takes to get Y/N back.

I take Nightwing's distraction as a chance to get the upper hand. Being the asshole I am, I sweep Nightwing's feet out from under him. It's what he deserves and quite good karma. He stumbles back, landing on his back a couple of steps ahead of me.

No time is wasted as I start closing the gap between us. My gun feels heavy in my hand as I pull it out. Richard made his own grave trying to get between Y/N and me again, but that doesn't mean I like laying him in it. I watch as he grabs for one of his sticks as I tower over him. He can try all he wants but it won't stop me; nothing will stop me. Y/N will be safe from him, from Bruce, from the life I dragged her into it.

I level the barrel to his head debating if I should just end it here. It would be quite the message to Batman. "Lady don't!" A young voice screams out.

I glance up to find who else is present but before I can my eyes lock on Y/N. She's rushed and flustered as she races towards me. Before I can stop her, she's shoving the gun up towards the sky. "Don't shoot!" She shouts, her words followed by the sound of the gun going off.

Fear flickers through me before my senses come in. Y/N isn't shot, she can't be, the gun is pointed too high.

She stands in front of me, anger rooted in her eyes as she looks at me. There are flickers of green mixed in with her normal eye color. I take in the rest of her, letting my mind go silent as I look her over. Y/N has a strand of grey mixed in her hair, just like me. She has to be alive because of the Laza pit. She has the same greying hair and recent green added to her eyes, just like me. Mine were caused because of the pit, so hers have to be because of it too, right? Is she suffering from the same side effects I did because of the pit?

"What the fuck is your problem, you daft cow?" Y/N yells, tugging the weapon from my hand before I can stop her. I have to stop myself from laughing at the situation. It's too much like it was when we were younger. Dick and me going toe-to-toe and Y/N swooping in to break us up once again.

"Don't stand there and look dumb at me. What do you think you're doing?" She repeats herself, her attention turning towards the gun.

I shift to point it down, so she doesn't accidentally shoot herself, but she beats me to it. The barrel is pointed at the open pavement between our feet as her hands work on disconnecting the bullets from the gun.

Y/N's fingers look smooth and soft as they work. I want to touch them. I want to hold them in my hands. I want to press kisses into them. I want to touch her. I want to know she's real.

"I..." I start, my mouth feels heavy and suddenly full of cotton. "Hi." The word sounds loud when it tumbles out.

"Hello," Y/N says back, her eyes sparkling. The color I've grown so used to comforts me despite the newly added flickers of green. She's so bright and here and alive.

Her focus stays on me for a beat longer as she hands me back my gun. Our fingers bumping into each other, sending shivers up my spine. She's alive.

I let the feeling envelop me as my eyes switch from her face to staying locked on the shitty tattoo behind her ear. My mind is on overtime, running through a million questions even as Y/N moves up and down in front of me. I can hear her voice as she talks to Dick but it's hard to focus on processing her words.

My eyes snap back up as Y/N stands. She whispers something, the words lost in her uncomfortableness. Am I making her upset? Is Dick? I glance around her to hopefully see what shifted her tone. Since being distracted, Bruce's new Robin has appeared in front of us. Is he making her upset?

Y/N starts walking away, causing panic about losing her to wash over me. Before I can stop myself, I reach out for her, my hand wrapping around her arm to stop her movements. "Let..." I start again, my mouth still feeling dry, and it gets drier as Y/N turns towards me. "Let me walk you home." The words come out quieter than I thought they would.

Her eyes harden as she looks at me and shakes me off of her. "What the fuck is with all you superheroes? Two days ago, I had a frantic Batman shoving hundred-dollar bills into my hand. You have been trailing me for three blocks, you-" So she knows I was behind her? Does she know it's me? Does she not remember Bruce is Batman? What does she remember?

I shake my head again, trying to Etch-A-Sketch the thoughts out of my head. I focus my attention back on Y/N. Her hands are on her hips, her right one popped out. I want to touch her again. I want to put my hands on her hips. I want to feel her between my fingers. I want to feel her warmth against me. I want-

My thoughts are cut off again when Dick starts touching her. "I... Y/N?" Dick says his tone as quiet as mine was. All the love-struck feelings wash out of me and are replaced with anger and jealousy. I don't want him touching her. I should be touching her. She's mine. She's always been mine. What the fuck does Dick think he's doing?

"Good guess," Y/N answers, her figure relaxing some. Does she remember that Grayson is Nightwing? Why does she remember that but not that Bruce is Batman? Does she like him touching her?

"Y/N?" He repeats, his face scrunched up in confusion. He needs to stop touching her before I lose my shit.

Almost as if Y/N can read my thoughts, she shrugs him off and starts walking away again. "That's my name, don't wear it out." Her tune is light and happy, making butterflies flap around my stomach. Nightwing and I stay frozen, watching her slip out of the alleyway before vanishing from our sight.

Dick's attention turns back towards me. His eyes are watery. Apparently, I'm not the only secret Bruce has been keeping from him, how in tune for the bat. "What's next? You going to end up being Jason Todd?" He asks, a sad laugh following. It tinges my heart, almost making me regret being willing to kill him a few minutes ago.

I hum a bit, turning towards the direction Y/N went in as I think about what I'm going to do. I start heading after her before changing my mind. I know she's alive and in town. That's all that matters. It'll be best for her if I back off, give her time to think over the event, and give Dick time to tattle to Bruce so I can see how they'll react. I glance at Nightwing behind me before opening my mouth again, "We both know that Y/N being alive isn't the only secret Bruce Wayne is hiding from the world."

I let the words hang behind me as I walk away. Waiting to go after Y/N also gives me time to think over what I'm going to do. If she doesn't remember parts of her life - if any of it - I don't need to scare her away by coming off too strong.

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My heart jumps around as I walk up the path from the other day. The neon lights are still obnoxious as fuck, but I don't mind. Y/N will be there. I know she will. I've been watching her, keeping tabs on her, getting the hang of her schedule. I know, I know, I know. I sound like a stalker. But it's not stalking. It's... intel collecting.

I know she'll be here. She works until nine-thirty, so unlike the other night, I come in earlier, so I have time to see her. Time to talk to her. I also know they're not too busy at night so the cafe will at least be mostly empty, if not completely deserted.

From my stalk- intel collecting, I know Dick came in earlier to talk to her. I don't know what they talked about though. I don't know if I want to know. It pissed me off seeing Dick with Y/N. Pissed me off seeing him touch her again. Pissed me off seeing the smile that stayed on her face even after she left the cafe for class.

What does Dick think he's doing? I'm not stupid or blind. Hell, even a blind man can see how down-hard Dick is for Y/N. Even when we were younger, he pretty much had hearts in his eyes anytime Y/N was around. She wanted me last time; she'll want me this time too... I think.

The jingle of the bell on the door competes with my heartbeat for space in my ears. Sitting in one of the bar chairs at the coffee island is Y/N. Scarecrow is next to her, helping her with her chemistry homework. I'm not thrilled about this arrangement but at least Y/N is getting the academic help she needs.

"Hello!" Y/N peeps out, sending a smile at me as her attention turns away from Scarecrow. Her eyes soften when she focuses on me. "It's you again."

"It's me again," I mumble, taking slow steps towards her.

Scarecrow stands up, placing himself between Y/N and me. He's always been a small man, even when I was a kid, but he seems even smaller nowadays. "Again?" He asks, trying to look intimidating. He's barely intimidating when he's in his suit, and definitely isn't when he's dressed like a civilian.

"Again," Y/N peeps up, her voice still airy and soft. The same voice that used to whisper sweet nothings into my ear until I fell asleep most nights. "Helmet man here walked me home after I argued with Penguin the other night."

"You got into an argument with Penguin?" Crow asks, turning his attention from me to Y/N. "What did he want?"

"You know, the usual. He wants me in debt to him for another body to do his bidding," She teases a soft smile on her face in an attempt to comfort Crow. Scarecrow shifts around a bit glancing at me a few times.

I step aside, standing next to the skinny man and joining him looking at Y/N. She's so pretty, even out of her style and in the dumb uniform for the cafe. "Can I buy you a coffee?" I ask her, slowly tugging my helmet off as well as making sure the mask under it stays in place. The last thing I need is Scarecrow knowing I'm Jason Todd.

"Look at you, pulling all the guys today," Crow half teases, sending glares my way.

"I guess so," Y/N says, her smile even bigger as she scans over my face. Maybe she does know who I am.

"I have something to deal with. Will you be okay if I leave?" Crow asks, his attention not being pulled from me.

"I'll be fine. I'm pretty confident that I can take him if need be." Y/N giggles at herself, pulling a soft chuckle from Crow as well. He nods at her before turning on his heels and walking off. "What do you want to drink?" She asks, standing up and sliding behind the counter.

"I'll have whatever you're going to have." She hums, starting to make whatever it is she's making. I watch her move around, my eyes drinking in every moment. Memories flow in and out as I watch her. Memories of her hands on me, her lips on me, of her laugh, of her. "What do you think he's off to go do?" I ask, being careful not to call him Scarecrow in case she doesn't know. It would be better if Y/N didn't know; it would be one less person to protect her from.

She hums, her hands working at pouring our drinks out. "He's probably going to go line the fog machines in the Iceberg with fear gas. He gets pretty pissy when Penguin fucks with the staff." So, she does know. Is that good or bad? Probably good in this situation. "Here you go," She murmurs, pushing my cup towards me before walking back around the counter with her drink.

Y/N slides back into her seat, patting the one next to her. I obey, sitting down. Her eyes stay locked on me, the flickers of green swirling around them as she stares. The space is quiet, the only sound being us sipping on our coffees. "Are you stalking me?" She asks, filling in the space and causing me to choke a bit.

My lungs force out a cough in an attempt to counteract my choking. Y/N's eyes stay locked on me, the green standing out as she watches. "I... no?" Why the fuck did that come out as a question? That's pretty counterproductive. "No, I'm not." That's better... maybe.

She hums again, sipping on her coffee as she thinks over my answer. "Defiantly seems like you're stalking me. Most people don't sneak around and follow me all day." Once again silence falls between us. How am I supposed to respond to that?

Y/N sits in silence, enjoying her coffee as she watches me. Even though I know she's suspicious of me, I still find comfort in her gaze. "I don't remember much of my life before six months ago so if I'm supposed to know you, I'm not avoiding you. I just don't know who you are, so you don't need to sneak around me; you just need to talk to me. Well, and be patient please." She says, being the one to break the silence again.

Oh... So, she doesn't know anything. That's... scary. For many reasons. "Is there anything you do remember?" I ask, gently pushing my coffee back and forth between my hands.

"Snip bits of stuff. Though some things have started coming back since I ran into Nightwing and you. Some more came back after my coffee chat with Richard Grayson too."

Don't fucking say his name. Don't say it. You should be saying my name. Should be remembering stuff because of me. Not because of fucking Dick. "Oh ya?" I peep out, glaring ahead of me at the menu instead of focusing my anger on Y/N.

"Mmhmm..." She falls silent, nodding her head back and forth as if she's trying to wiggle her thoughts around. "Helmet man-"

"Red Hood," I say, cutting her off with my correction.

I turn my attention back to her, being met with her eyes already on me. "You're my Jason, right?"

"Ya," I push out, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. The word 'my' repeats nonstop in my head, bouncing around my brain as I try to sort through my feelings of bliss.

"I think I love you," She whispers, her hand dipping back behind her ear to mess with her tattoo.

The bliss is all washed away once the words hit my ears. She thinks she loves me? Does she not remember loving me? Of course not, Y/N doesn't remember anything. Well, at least a small piece of her remembers me. Remembers me enough to know she's supposed to love me and that's good enough. There's enough hope there for me to build on.

"Well, I know I love you," I whisper back, keeping my eyes on her to see her reaction. She's still looking at me, her eyes shining.

She hums a bit, tilting her head as she scans me again. "Can I take your mask off?" Y/N asks, her hands slow and gentle as they slide over my cheeks and come into contact with the mask covering my eyes.

"Ya."

Her fingers are soft as they snap off my mask. The joy drains from me as the warmth from her touch is removed. "Your eyes are green... I remember them being blue," Y/N says, her fingertips soon back on my cheeks.

I can feel my cheeks heating up, both from a blush and the hands present on my skin. "They used to be, now they're green." Y/N hums, running her fingers over my cheekbones before sliding them into my hair. I let my eyes close, soaking in her touches. It's calming, being able to be so close to her again, feeling her touch me again, feeling proof that she's alive. I lean forward a bit, getting close enough to feel Y/N's soft breathing coat my face. "Can..." Asking to kiss her might be a little much right now. Maybe I shouldn't ask.

"Can you what?" Y/N prompts, her hands dropping down to my shoulders.

My eyes snap open and once again they're met with the familiar color and the newly added flickers of green. Why did she only get slivers and mine completely changed color? "Can I take you on a date?" I finally ask, shifting a bit so our noses are touching. God, I want to kiss her. I want to hold her. I want her in every way possible. It's going to kill me having to work back up to that.

"I'd like that, Jason."

Yes. God, yes. "Say my name again," I mumble, rubbing my nose against hers.

"Jason," She whispers, bopping my nose with her own before pulling away from me.

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Butterflies flap around my stomach, threatening to come up in a not-pretty way. My hands shake as I lift one to knock on the door of Y/N's apartment. The knocking feels loud as I do it. Maybe I knocked too loud.

The door swings open soon after, the door frame filling with the image of Y/N. She's dressed up with her hair down to cup her face. "Hi," I breathe out, my eyes drinking her in. She's so pretty, so perfect, so alive.

"Hello," she answers back, her eyes glancing at my hand. "You got me flowers?" Y/N asks, leaning against the door frame.

"Oh ya," I bark out, definitely too loud, as I push the bouquet toward her. I couldn't decide what flowers to get so I ended up getting three different bouquets and had the lady mix them. "Your favorite flowers are orange roses, but I didn't know if you still liked them or not, so I panicked and got more flowers than you probably need or want." That was dumb. Why did I say that? I feel like a thirteen-year-old with his first crush again.

"I still like orange roses," Y/N tells me, taking the flowers from me before walking back through the door. I follow after her, making sure to close the door behind me. Her apartment is small but cozy. There's not much in her home either but I guess that's expected since Y/N doesn't know herself.

There is a small couch and one of those old, bulky, shitty TVs tucked into her living room. The apartment smells nice, like pork and chili pepper. A million different dishes are stacked up around her countertop in the kitchen. "What are you making?" I ask her, sliding my jacket off before laying it on the couch.

"I'm making Pozole. I remember you liking it. Or I think you liked it. Somebody did at least," She mumbles a bit, keeping her attention to the pot on the stove in front of her.

"I like pozole. Alfred and you used to make it for me all the time."

Y/N's eyes light up at my words, making my chest fill with the warmth of joy. I walk into the cramped kitchen, making sure to stay out of her way as I stand in her presence. I watch her like a hawk as she works away, letting the warmth of the stove and the smell of dinner fill the space between us. For the first time in two years, I finally feel okay, finally feel at peace.

"You didn't answer my question the other day," I voice, sliding in closer to her. I want to hold her; I want to wrap my arms around her waist. I debate it for a second. I don't want to scare her off.

"What question?" Y/N asks, glancing at me before turning back to her project at hand.

"Is there anything you remember from our - er - your life?"

Y/N snaps the heat off, continuing to stir the pot as she thinks it over. "There's not a lot I do remember. I'm starting to remember this dude named Wally, I think. I don't know. I'm going to talk to Dick about him tomorrow. I remember a bit about Dick too but not much. I remember a bit about you... about us." Her eyes glance at me, before turning back to our dinner. She picks up some heat absorbers, wrapping them around the pot before setting it on a cutting board on the counter.

She's talking to Dick? About her memories? Or lack thereof, I guess. I don't want her talking to him. What's he going to say to her? What has he already said to her? What ideas is he putting into Y/N's head? Has Dick tried anything with her?

"What do you remember about us?" I ask, trying to push for more information as I try to forget my worried thoughts.

Y/N floats around the kitchen, taking out dishes for our food. My eyes trail her as she moves around the small space. "Umm... I remember us kissing a lot."

I chuckle a bit at that response. We do - did kiss a lot. We did other things a lot too. "Ya, ya we kissed a lot. We were very... touchy." Y/N giggles a bit as she makes our plates. My eyes keep glancing from her face to her hips. I really want to touch her. Before I can stop myself, I push off the counter I'm leaning on and wrap her up in me. My hands are firm on her hips and her back is pressed into my chest as I bury my head into her neck.

Y/N stiffens a bit in my hold before relaxing her muscles again. "We danced a lot too," I mumble into her neck, softly shifting her hips so we can sway together. She sways with me, her body weight feeling so good against mine. "You liked to read out loud to me too."

"Do you not know how to read?" She teases, shifting in my hold so we're face to face.

"I know how to read, I just read too slow for your liking."

"Oh ya?"

"Absolutely not, I just like your voice," I answer, lifting my head from her neck and placing our noses next to each other.

Y/N's hands slide up my arms, resting on my shoulders. "Our favorite book is The Great Gatsby, ya?"

My heart swells a bit at her words. "Ya, it is," I whisper, trying to focus my eyes on hers instead of her lips. It doesn't work so I decide to close my eyes, letting myself focus on her body heat instead. We stay silent, sitting like this, with me holding her. I could stay like this forever.

"Could you kiss me?" Y/N mumbles, shifting in my hold.

My eyes snap open, taking in her face. I roll the words over in my head. I already thought holding her was much for a "first date" and now she's asking me to kiss her? Maybe this is a trap. Maybe I'm making her feel like we have to move fast. Maybe Al Ghul is fucking with my head somehow. "Why?" I peep out, loosening my grip on her.

"Well, my therapist says doing stuff I used to do can help with my memories coming back. We were together ya?"

"Ya, we still are." Her face pinches some as her body stiffens again. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. It isn't fair of me to expect a relationship from Y/N. She doesn't even know who she is, let alone who I am.

"Well, I thought maybe kissing you again would help. We don't have to-"

"I really want to kiss you," I say, cutting her off, and tightening my grip on her again. Y/N's hands slide to the back of my neck, her fingers shaking a bit against my skin but her body relaxes again. "Close your eyes," I mumble, sliding my nose against hers again.

Y/N obeys, fluttering her eyes shut. I take my time, trailing kisses across her nose, her eyes, and her cheeks, before placing myself above her mouth. I soak this scene in for a second before closing the gap between us. Her lips are soft against mine and taste like mint gum.

I shift my hands up, cupping her neck with one and softly dipping the other into her hair. All my need and want and love is boiled into the kiss. Our lips shift against each other for a while, the kiss getting heated way more than it meant.

As my lungs start burning, Y/N pulls back, making me a bit sad. I'd gladly suffocate to death from her kiss. "Jason," She murmurs, her words a little slurred.

"Say it again," I whisper back, tilting my head so our lips are close again.

"Jason," She mutters again. Her lips brush against mine as she speaks.

Fucking Christ. This is too hot, too heated, too much for her right now but I can't stop thinking about hearing her whisper my name all night. "I can't wait for you to fall in love with me again," I say, keeping my tone at a whisper as I glance over her face.

"Why is that?" Y/N asks, her fingers tangling into my hair.

"Because I still love you so fucking much."

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