#can you TELL i drank more coffee than i should have?

[sassymajesty]

omfg just read your tags about clarke always being dirty and it remindes me of (m)dwym when lexa makes a comment about how sky ppl dont know how to wash up 😭😭😭😭 i often treat that book and refer to it as if its canon

as far as i'm concerned, that is canon. the grounder culture, the lore, the attention to detail and actual politics involved with commanding twelve whole clans... that's canon. the tv show is just a losely based adaptation that we mostly don't talk about

but the nerve, the GALL sky people had to call grounders, the people with acess to water and soap, clean clothes, and fancy oils, savages when they'd walk around smelling like space poopoo for weeks on end is beyond me

[thevoidstaredback]

Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant

Listen. It was an accident. He didn't mean to! It just kinda happened.

So maybe he brought a drink with enough caffeine in it to kill an elephant within a few minutes, and maybe he forgot to put the sleeve on his cup so he could tell it apart from the others, but it's not his fault! He didn't think anyone else was going to have the exact same Yeti cup as him! It's not like he'd seen any of the others carry one before. Besides, he worked with superheros. They should be smart enough to check before drinking someone else's drink.

Danny had been summoned by the Justice League Dark a few years back in order to help with a world ending crisis and he just didn't leave. It's not like he could go anywhere anyway. His ghost half hadn't grown past fourteen and his human half had stopped visibly aging at eighteen. He'd had to leave town as Danny Fenton, but he'd stayed in Amity Park as Danny Phantom. When his parents died of old age, thank god, he'd closed down the portal, stuck around for a few more years, before traveling the world as Danny Fenton.

Anyway, he'd taken up residence in the House of Mysteries after the JLD had summoned him. Constantine, at first, had been wary, but he and the rest of the JLD had grown to accept him. He was an honorary member of the team.

At some point, just after Robin had become Red Robin, Danny had been introduced to the Justice League. He liked those guys, too, and worked with them sometimes. Though, he usually only went to bug them.

Red Robin had been very interested in the fact that his was fourteen and working with grown heros, like he was one to talk, but Danny hadn't explained anything other than saying that he had died and come back. The following conversation was an interesting one that lead to Danny knowing that Nightwing was the Batman he'd met and that Batman was lost somewhere. He'd confirmed that the man was not dead, but he hadn't offered to help look for him. He probably should have, in retrospect.

Back on topic! Everyone in the JLD knew not to touch Danny's drink. They'd all seen him make it before and had been horrified on varying degrees. It's not like it could kill him. He's already half dead! So long as he only drank this specific brew as Phantom, he'd be fine.

The Justice League, apparently, didn't get the memo. He blames Constantine because Zatanna and Raven can do no wrong. No, John, he's not biased.

The point is, Red Robin just had a sip of Danny's drink. The horror he now felt was akin to the fear he held when he'd told his parents he was Phantom. (An interaction that had gone very well, thank you very much.)

Danny knew the exact moment that the vigilante realized he grabbed the wrong drink. His eyes widened to an astonishing degree, and, if he'd been able to seen his eyes behind the mask, Danny knew that the man's pupils would've completely overtaken the irises. His hands started shaking, too. Oh, no. The man's already addicted to hellish amounts of coffee. This is only going to make it worse!

Quickly, and without drawing any attention, thank the Ancients, Danny rushed over. "You, um, you okay, man?" Obviously not, but he tends to talk when he's anxious and he was certainly anxious right now. He could've possibly just killed a man via poison!

"What the fuck is in this coffee?" Red Robin asked, going to take another sip.

Danny pulled the Yeti from his hand and gave him the proper one. "Enough caffeine to kill an elephant."

"Obviously not, seeing as I'm still alive."

"Yeah, I can't tell if that's a good thing or not."

"Excuse me?"

"I-I mean-! I didn't-! You know what I mean." Caffeine is poisonous in excess, and his drink was way beyond excess, but it's the only thing that works for him as a ghost! Superpowered metabolism and all that.

"Do I?" The laugh in his voice answered for him. He took a sip from his drink and frowned at it. "I don't think any coffee will ever be enough again."

"And that's my cue to get my drink very far away from you." Danny turned, fully intent on moving to the other side of the room. Besides, the meeting was going to start as soon as the Flash and Kid Flash arrived, which would be soon. Something about one of their Rouges getting out?

"What?" Red Robin asked, "Why?" If he was a little desperate to get another sip of that coffee, he'd rather not acknowledge it.

"Because you don't need anymore lethal coffee," he muttered, "The sip you took will already keep you awake for three days at least, and it probably jump started an addiction. Best to stop it now. Besides, I need to go have my crisis on how the hell you're still alive after even a sip of this stuff."

"Again, rude." The bird themed vigilante crossed his arms as best he could while holding his cup. "If it's so dangerous, why do you drink it?"

Danny took a deliberate sip as he locked eyes with the technically younger man. "I'm dead. I don't need to worry about my heart stopping or having a seizure."

"Excuses."

"No, it's not 'excuses'. I'm saving your life."

"You're a kid. If I can't have that coffee, then you shouldn't be having it."

"First, I'm older than you. Second, I already told you: I'm dead. This isn't going to hurt me. Third, you can't tell me what to do."

"There's no way you're older than me. You're like, ten."

"I'm thirty-eight!" He balked, "I only look fourteen because I died when I was fourteen. We've been over this."

Neither noticed the entire Justice League looking at them. The two they were waiting on had arrived a few minutes ago and everyone was ready to start the meeting, but they'd been distracted by the two's conversation. Was that true? Had Phantom really died so young? They'd all been made aware he was not living, but they didn't think he'd died so young! Though, that was probably the denial speaking.

The Justice League Dark had been fully aware of this and didn't really bat an eye. Though, someone should probably get this meeting started. A potentially world ending threat was the topic, and that was a pretty important thing to discuss.

Captain Marvel was the first to pull himself together, though that was only after Atlas and Zeus had mentally slapped him out of his stupur. "As, ah, riveting as this conversation is," he stepped between the two boys- er, boy and man? "we really need to start this meeting."

Batman did not clear his throat because he'd not lost his voice in the first place. "He's right. Everyone take your seats."

Storyboard Part 2

[nouvxllev]

CAN I DO A REQUEST..

Jenna x Reader

Summary: R gets high off their ass after an argument w J, J gets home (xtra tired) w R drunkkkafff, but even in a drunken state, R still treats J like a literal princess, no matter the circumstance they're in cuz R loves J sm

LOVELOVELOVE YOUR WRITING SM.

-🦦

i (do)nt care!

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: literally drinking tears away, on the verge of an alcoholic and stressed out reader, readers the sweetest but also dorkiest, bittersweet stuff but the author is trying to sound funny above most of it

a/n: one of my recognizable anons, thank you for requesting!!! APPRECIATE YOU SMMM

masterlist.

You're a shitty person at times, like having quips come flying out of your mouth like a 7th grade asshole. You don't know where they come from, but they came from something like maybe a stressful week.

Like people not knowing when and how to shut the fuck up, angry customers with blonde hair and a penchant for that pixie-cut hairstyle pestering you all day because you allegedly forgot their order as if you weren't new to the whole running a coffee shop thing while on a minimum wage!

The internet seriously romanticized it too much, it's becoming a hassle to know which job to take when all you want is something relaxing and pays well.

Job hunting was a pain in the ass more than you are.

But then there's that lovely and caring girlfriend of all that makes it all bearable even if you're on the brink of insanity. The one who makes everything okay with literally just her presence. If there were a worldwide contest for the best and most understanding girlfriend, you knew Jenna would win it hands down.

You'd sooner try to stop a bullet train with your bare hands than even hurt her in the slightest. You loved her all too much to even do so.

But somehow in your own fucked up, seriously-like-actually-what-the-actual-fuck-were-you-thinking way, you managed to mess that up too.

You had an argument with Jenna as soon as you walked through the door the both of you shared. (It was because she accidentally broke your Minecraft bed and now it wasn't placed beside her. Again, you were stressed, and everything piled up. Even if it's dumb ones.)

You still remember the sound of her voice, heartbreaking is all you could say. (Again, dumb argument. Why did you even bring it up as if it was some huge problem?)

So now you're here. Drinking all your sorrows away like it would magically bring Jenna close and sing some we are the world shit for the rest of your living lives and kiss.

It was moments like these when you question if you were dropped on your head as a baby multiple times and no one even bothered to tell you.

I mean, arguing over a Minecraft bed? Seriously? Maybe you should take up lobotomy without anesthesia.

You still remember saying, 'Fine! Go away and see if I fucking care!' like something out of a bad soap opera and then she actually went away.

And you do care. Very much so.

It's safe to say you spent 30 minutes crying on the floor before picking your ass up to get a cab and come up with a dangerous coping mechanism before you eventually spotted a bar and decided you'd start drinking.

And of course, being that one person who never drank before in their entire life without having to chase it all down with water the soon it hits your tongue, it tasted bitter.

The bar was quiet with a hint of peoples voices going up and down alot, screaming alot, and the occasional drunkard barging in with their work attire.

You'd like to think that you're none of these people, but your the person who argued with literally the love of your life that you vowed to never hurt over something so dumb and tried drinking it all away.

"Ffffuck..." you murmured to yourself. Your eyes burned like hell, that was a nice addition to a headache.

Your head was down on the counter, your fingers gripping the shot glass as if it was your last moment on earth.

"You've ordered two bottles of whiskey and a fuck ton of tequila shots in the past hour, something wrong?"

Let's see, I've been fighting sleep as if I've disrespected my ancestors, job hunting is literally chewing me like I'm flavored bubblegum, tired, stressed, and most importantly, I managed to upset my one and only girlfriend who only gave me nothing but pure happiness and love! So, I'm fucking not, thanks so much for asking!

But you can't say that to someone who's also working minimum wage at a bar in New York. Living in New York is hell enough, dealing with fucked up customers like you is already going to be the next problem.

Because what can you really say to someone who's just trying to do their job? They don't need to hear about your self-inflicted drama.

You hear the bartender sigh. Not unlikely because you've probably been groaning and whining for the past few minutes.

"Let me guess, gotten to a fight with your significant other?"

How in the hell did he know that!?

Your eyes widened, immediately sitting up straight. "Holy shit, you're a wizard!" By the way your voice slurred and literally no one on earth would have that as their first thought, you're drunk.

The bartender chuckled, cleaning off another class and chucking it in the sink. "Not quite. Just seen my fair share of broken hearts. Kind of comes with the job."

You shake your head, "Nope," you popped the P, "definitely a wizard."

"Wanna tell me about them?" He placed another shot glass your way, "On the house, juice, though. You shouldn't be drinking anymore."

Taking the glass of juice, you swirl it around absentmindedly with your hand perched on top of the table and carrying the weight of your head. People say don't talk to strangers, but they never really said to spill your guts over to them.

With a sigh you down it all.

"Her name's…" Oh, right. She's an actress.

You really shouldn't be going around telling people you're literally with America's Idol when you kept your relationship with her private until she's ready to go public.

"Her name is, uhm, Jenny." Fuck, she's gonna kill you if you tell her this story. But it does put a very stupid smile on your face.

"Pretty name."

Your eyes lit up like never before. You were passionate for her, how could you not? "She's pretty, very pretty—you wouldn't know how to describe it yourself, you'd have to write verses upon verses to."

"Have you?"

"I'm still writing. Everyday."

The bartender nodded with a slight smile to his lips.

You stand up straighter. "She's this—talented person with one of the most dangerously charming brown eyes that resembles a nebula. Her smile, oh—her smile is one of the most incredible things to witness. She could make a devil weep and laugh with her, it'll make them regret their sins in an instant." Your voice was warm, clear, not even a trace of drunkenness whenever you're talking about her.

"It's not just her looks, or her smile, or whatever, she has a brilliant mind you could never dissect. Tears were never a challenge for her, she's brave, braver than anyone I've ever seen. She's a kind and romantic soul, an old one at that, but romantic nonetheless. Not just to me, but to everyone around her. She cares for everyone around her." You didn't notice you started crying halfway through.

"Dreaming was never a problem when I'm around her, though it felt like reality was greater than anything I've ever slept in. She's just the most gorgeous and incredible girl. She sees right through me, through everything, but she still loves me despite all my flaws and fuck-ups."

You pause. "But tonight, I got us into an argument so stupid, like so stupid and then I burdened everything I was feeling on her. Before I knew it, I yelled some things at her that I didn't really mean and she was out the door."

You'd think you'd be fine after literally spilling everything out, but no, you just slump back again in defeat like some pathetic hopeless romantic loser.

You facepalm yourself. "Give me a bottle."

"You shouldn't be—"

"I'll pay you 100$ no change needed, just please give me a bottle." You were acting like one of those drunkards you see on TV shows where the character gets horrendously fucked over.

One of the all time low for you, you've really outdid yourself.

You hear the bartender sigh and place another bottle of whiskey. "Business is business."

In one go, or maybe one shot glass, you were back to words stumbling and your brain feeling like fizz.

"All I know is I screwed up big time, and now I'm sitting here feeling like the world's biggest idiot for doing something like that to literally the love of my life!"

"Well, is she—"

It happened in a flash.

Or rather it happened in a second by how fast your mood changed to serious to straight up bawling your eyes out and gripping the bartenders collar.

"What the hell do I do, John!? Is your name even John!?" You cried, even breaking down and making a mess of yourself in front of the population of this bar.

"ImessedthefuckupandIdon'tevenknowifshesgonnaforgivemeohmanwhatthehelldoIdo!?" You swayed him back and forth, it's amazing how he isn't calling for security and escorting you out.

"OKAY, OKAY! Calm down, shit!" He immediately grabs your hands and gently pries your fingers from his shirt and sits you back down.

"I feel like the—" you hic "—worlds biggest asshole and my girlfriend thinks that too!

"She's—"

"I still love her with all my heart! I'll do anything to be with her again, I'm so fucking serious, anything I—!"

"She's right behind you, man!"

You stop.

You turn around.

"Oh, shit."

You murmured. It was like your brain was stumbling on a delicate thread of soberness and drunkenness. Jenna looked like the most finest pair of blobs.

Jenna looks tired, exhausted, stressed. Her eyes are glistening with tears, and her nose carries a reddish tint to it. You didn't even notice that she was wearing your shirts with one of your jackets.

"Oh, love!" You come crashing down on her as you stood up, embracing Jenna into a warm hug.

"Y/n, you're crushing me—"

Jenna used to love your hugs, even if they were totally crushing her. Oh, you were so fucked.

"Sorry, sorry," you mumble, stepping back slightly but your hands lingered on her shoulders, offering a small massage to her stress. "Is that you, Jenna?"

She looks up at you. There were visible dark circles under her eyes and glint of past tears that trickled down her face.

"I'm... I'm so sorry, Jennaaaaauuhh!" you cry out, her name stretching as you bawled your eyes out in front of her, words tumbling out of you before you can even stop them.

"I didn't mean anything, or any of it! I was stressed, people were so mean to me, but that isn't a valid excuse for me to just..." you blew a raspberry for dramatic effect, "blow it up on you. Please don't ignore my hugs, you always adored my hugs! Oh, God, Jenna, I'm so sorry!"

You were still talking before Jenna could even get one word out, "I love you literally sooo so so much I was a fool for even—hey, how'd you know I was here? Fuck, you shouldn't be here! I can't let you know that I was drinking, turn around!"

"Y/n," she sighs, reaching up to cup your cheek in her hand, "Let's just go home. You've been here for an hour."

You nod frantically, not knowing if that was meant to be as an I forgive you gesture or an I will tear your limbs from muscle to tendon and taxidermy you into the most horrendous positions after we get home gesture.

"I'll get the door for you!" You shout while stumbling over your own feet as you rush to get the door.

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

By the time the two of you got home safely without you trying to insist taking over the steering wheel when you're completely blacked out of your mind, you're still clinging onto Jenna as if she was the one going to fall on her own feet.

"Y/n, what are you doing?"

Jenna looks up at you, your whole figure sprawled out in front of her like a starfish.

You turn around at her like some superhero who came to save the day, vision blurry from the light. "The moon looks suuuper close tonight. What if you'll get burnt!?"

"That's the porch lamp, Y/n."

"No, it is not—!" You look up. Oh, shit it is.

"Oh." You take Jenna's hand, giggling away your blatant stupidity with a goofy grin, "God, you're so smart, can't believe you're my girlfriend."

But Jenna just laughs. It's everything to you, a sweet symphony blessed with those close with her.

"I like 'ur laugh, Jenna." You whisper to her, hands in your pockets while you watch her struggle with the keys.

She doesn't respond but with a nod. Your heart sinks for her—she's that exhausted and it's all because of you!

Finally, she manages to get the door open with your heart stuck in your throat while Jenna leads the both of you inside. The house was warm, toasty, but it left remnants of your argument with her.

You steel a glance at her, her eyes cast downward while she struggles with her own jacket.

"Oh—here! I'll get your coat," you offer, your hands trembling slightly with your own coat hanging from your forearm. "Annnd I'll take care of your clothes—wait, did you have dinner yet? I can whip up something for you!"

Without Jenna's judgement, you hurry up with a tail stuck between your own two feet to Jenna's closet, throwing everything out and getting some nice and comfy clothes for her. Not knowing you went to your closet instead of hers.

"Jenna!" You run towards her, pretty fast for a drunkard without falling over, "Shit everything looks like hell for me—anyway, what do you want for dinner? I can literally make anything, just say the word!"

Jenna still stands in the doorway, looking up at you. "You can't cook dinner, love, you're drunk."

She called you love! Yes!!

"I'm not drunk. I don't have my hiccups anymore, my vision is not that impaired and I can walk perfectly fine. You just saw me run!"

"You mistook a porch lamp for a moon and tried to protect me, Y/n."

Noooo! Back to the first name basis already!?

"Well—"

"You're sweating even if the air condition is turned on, your eyes look red so is your face."

"Okay, maybe—"

All you heard was a sigh before Jenna's lips met yours. Soft and delicate, it was the effect she had on you. You can melt like winter bathed in sunlight for the first time by the touch of her lips on yours.

"Earth to Y/n?"

Your eyes were still closed even after she pulled away, what an idiot you must've looked like.

You blink.

"Oh—oh, that's me. I'm Y/n." You cleared your throat. "Here, your clothes!" You bounced back almost immediately, but you swear your heart is still fluttering like crazy.

Jenna took the neatly folded pile of clothes on your hands, "Let's just take a shower, okay—"

You're practically bouncing with energy and utmost passion to help out your girlfriend with a simple sentence coming out of her mouth. "I'll draw a bath for you! Even scented candles and bubbles—wait, let's get you on the couch first."

Jenna smiles at you. Oh, how you've missed her. "You know, you don't have to do this, baby." She murmurs as she makes her way to the couch with your hand between hers, sinking into the soft cushions with a relieved sigh like she was a plushie.

"But I want to," you respond softly, handing her a bottle of water and arranging pillows for extra comfort. "It's the least I can do."

Fuck, she's too adorable. How in the hell did you manage to get into an argument with this perfect girl?

"I'll be right back, baby. Just relax, okay?" You reassure her, giving her a quick peck on the forehead before eagerly skipping to the bathroom like your life depended on giving your girlfriend the most luxurious bath of all.

It took a long while before you got everything in place. It was all 50% work and 50% taking a rest because you almost tripped and fell into the bathtub, eaten shit on the floor and the bath bomb, mistook rose petals for blood, almost dropped your phone into the water, and took numerous breaks to calm your vision and heartrate down.

Returning to the living room, you find Jenna lying down with her eyes shut, looking cozy and content.

Yet she was still tired.

Visible traces of exhaustion were etched on her face, her eyebrows are slightly creased even in her REM cycle, and her hand is curled into a fist as she constantly twists and turns in her sleep.

You wince at the sight.

You approach her quietly, gently brushing a strand of hair away from Jenna's face. You watch her breathing even out, her chest rising to her breaths. She looked dangerously ethereal.

"Y/n?"

How long have you been staring at her for?

You smiled, getting into the couch with her, wrapping your arms around her soft body, hoping that it felt like comfort to her like how she felt like undeniable solace to you. She was cold, very cold, but you couldn't help wrap your arms around her.

"Hey." You murmur, planting a soft kiss to her neck, "You okay? I drew a bath for you."

"Just for me?"

"Mhmm, why?"

"Aren't you going to take one? You reek of alcohol, baby."

"Harsh."

She laughs at you, sitting up and pulling you along with her. "Take a shower with me, there's enough space for two."

You smirk at her, "Ooooh, sexy."

Jenna could almost burn holes in your face, rolling her eyes with the same smile as yours, "We are not having sex, baby."

"Oh." You wince as you get up, taking Jenna along with you, "But seriously?"

"Seriously, you reek."

"And I thought you love me!"

"I do, just not the smell."

By the time you both got into the shower, you were marveling at Jenna's figure.

She seemed almost too flawless, simply too gorgeous not to appreciate fully. You could almost cry at the sight (which you did). She was too perfect not to.

Jenna turned to you, her wet hair cascading from her shoulders as you sat behind her, massaging her shoulders to relieve any stress and tension in her body. "You alright, baby? You're... crying."

"Sorry," You wiped your tears away with a light laugh, "You're too perfect, how could I not!?"

Jenna leaned into your touch, letting the warm water and scented candles warm her spirit as well as heart, the tension melting away under your gentle touch. "You're pretty perfect yourself, Y/n."

"Compared to you, I'm no one."

"Now that's the dumbest thing you've ever said."

You paused in your ministrations. "I made you cry, Jenna. Over something so stupid." You let your arms fall to her waist, wrapping them in a tight hug as you bring her closer to you, burying your head on the crook of her neck. "'M sorry. I shouldn't have blown up everything on you. I didn't mean anything."

Jenna sighed, her hands finding yours cuddled around her and intertwining each finger with hers. "I know you're just tired—"

"You are too. More tired than me but you never harmed me like how I harmed you." You whisper to her, your breath shaking, "I'll do better, Jenna. I'm sorry."

She hummed, turning her head to plant a delicate kiss on your cheeks. "I forgive you, Y/n. We all have our moments, you aren't any out of the ordinary."

You hummed softly against her skin.

"Also, please don't go out drinking again, okay? It's gonna turn out a bad habit for you."

"You smoke, Jenna. We aren't that different."

Jenna narrowed her eyes, "I will drown you, Y/n."

You laugh, placing a kiss on the corners of her lips. "I'm just joking!"

You continued to massage Jenna's shoulders, feeling your own stress and tension melt away as you kiss every patch of her skin.

"How come you still treat me so well even when you're drunk?" Jenna adjusted her position as she nestled between your legs, her own drawing up to her chin.

You scoff, "For the second time, I'm not drunk and I love you too much not to."

"That's a stupid reason."

"Excuse me?"

"What were exactly your exact words... Oh, 'Go away and see if I fucking care?'"

"You know I didn't mean it!"

"I do. But I wanna hear you say it."

You couldn't see Jenna's exact face, but you know she's wearing a shit-eating grin with the most stupidest and cutest dimples around her smile.

"I do care for you, Jenna. So much. I was a dumbass for saying that, a dick, even."

Jenna laughed, leaning in to rest on your shoulder, her hand gently guiding your head to face towards her.

She pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I love you."

"Well, I care for you." You kissed her back.

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a/n: im surprised that this was so short also im back! my schedule is hectic and very stressful but im still alive for the most part

[whimsyfinny]

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader, eventual smut

Warnings: language, mention of drugs

Chapter Word Count: 2330

—-MDNI—-

A/N: wooooop new series! I'm trying something new with this one! As a mom myself I loooove reading mom!reader fics, so I wanted to write my own. It's a slightly shorter first chapter, but the following ones should be longer. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, reading your comments makes my day ❤️ and of course, this is proofread only by myself so pls pls let me know of any errors! I really hope you enjoy it. I also didn’t write this at 2am for once so brownie points to me hahaha

Photos from Pinterest

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Chapter 1

“Come on, (Y/n)! You have to tell me all about it! What was he like? Did you kiss? Hold hands? Where did he take you?”

I couldn’t help but smile at the rapidfire questions spewing from Kats mouth. Kat, the stunner sat opposite me with perfect dark skin and the inability to have a bad hair day, was my closest friend. We lived on the same street, drank at the same bar and both hated this small, slightly judgemental town equally. We bonded over the similarities in our lives - like both of us having fallen pregnant at a young age and being dealt the hand of having to raise our kids as single parents. Life was fucking hard sometimes (well, nearly all the time), but my son, Levi, and Kat, made this life worth living.

“Jesus Christ, ok! The date was ok.”

“Uh oh. ‘Ok’? That means it was awful, right?” she raised an eyebrow.

I took a gulp of my coffee.

“The date was ok. But he was…. Seriously not my type. He was too…perfect?” I winced as the words left my mouth, fully aware of how utterly ridiculous that sounded.

“Girl, ‘too perfect’? What the fuck kind of excuse is that?” Kat snorted slightly into her latte.

“I know, I know. But he reminded me of a Ken doll, ya’know? With his white jeans and his Armani sweater over his shoulders - that’s not really… me. The dude gets more manicures than I do. Plus he drives a Fiat Panda. Levi wouldn’t be caught dead getting in and out of one of those.”

“You can’t use your sons taste in cars to dictate the men in your life. That’s a low blow and you know it.”

“Ok then, you go out with Robert and tell me about all the kale facts that you never wanted to learn.” I leant back on the couch, clutching my coffee with both hands to bring some warmth to my fingertips. Kat did the same opposite me, leaning back in the plush armchair as we both took a second to glance out of the large café windows. This was our happy place, right here. It was the place we would come to when we first met and the boys were still in diapers. It was our happy place for the last nine years, and we would come here for every situation: be it a breakup, a catch-up, to discuss terrible sexual encounters or dire situations that need insane back-up plans. But we mostly came here to people-watch. Being the young, single moms that we were, we were constantly under the scrutiny of the small town, having every decision judged by the perfect Jeep-driving soccer moms and the old ladies from church. When we came here, to sit by this window in these comfy-as-fuck couches, it was our turn to do a little judging.

“Vicki Priestley isn't fooling anyone with those sunglasses,” I said, taking another sip of coffee as I watched the thin peroxide blonde across the street repeatedly wipe her nose with the back of her hand.

“Right? We get shunned for…well… fuck all, yet that Paris wannabe can snort coke on a Tuesday school run and everyone turns a blind eye? What a joke.”

“Amen to that,” we watched her for a few more seconds as she climbed behind the wheel of some monstrous four by four and sped off down the road.

“Did you hear that Mrs. Harris caught Mr. Harris with a young mistress? Apparently she works at the bank.”

“Oh my GOD yes I heard!” Kat exclaimed, leaning forward, “and as revenge she put Nair in his shampoo - he's completely hairless, even his eyebrows are gone.”

We both snickered as we raised our mugs.

“To Mrs. H for taking no shit.”

Conversation flowed as topics ranged from the new dessert parlour that opened last week down the road to the extortionate price of kids' Motocross gear.

“I mean the bikes are so tiny, why do they have to cost that much?”

“You're preaching to the choir babes, Toby just outgrew his boots for the third time this year,” Kat grimaced at the thought of how much money she'd spent already.

“Ouch, they're like what? Eighty bucks a pair?”

“Yup.”

“Yeah well, I had to get Levi a new helmet after that little dickhead from the tournament last month crashed into the side of him. That boy was more upset about the stickers he lost than the bruises he got,” I shook my head with a smile on my lips. Kat did the same.

“That's a tough kid you've got there.”

I sighed.

“Yeah I know. Despite never having met him, he's so much like his dad. It's a little concerning actually,” I laughed nervously, instantly regretting bringing up Levi’s father in front of Kat. I glanced up at her, taking a sip of my coffee in an attempt to hide behind the mug. The wiggling of her eyebrows being an indicator of her impending wrath.

“That man is the reason why you’re never satisfied with your dates. He set that bar waaaay too high.”

I scoffed. “He did not. We were young and he just swept me off my feet a bit, that’s all; with that ‘give ‘em Hell’ attitude and handsome face. Plus he had a great car.”

“Last time you said his face was ‘gorgeous’,” Kat cupped her face and fluttered her eyelashes, puckering her lips. I threw a sugar packet at her which she batted right back at me.

There was a moment of quiet as we both looked out the window again, my mind unable to stop itself from racing through old memories.

“Do you think he’ll ever come calling?” Kat asked, some sincerity to her tone. I sighed and slumped back further on the couch.

“I highly doubt it. He doesn’t even know that Levi exists. I tried calling him a few years back but some guy John W. had that number instead. I gave up after that. Plus, he had this kinda dangerous job, and normally if he showed up it was because something was going to go down,” I paused, looking into the dark liquid in my cup, “It’s probably a good thing that he hasn’t just shown up.”

“You say that, but you still have that photo you took together on your vanity.”

I shot her a look, pursing my lips and pinching my brows as she laughed, knowing she'd stumped me there. I quickly downed my coffee and checked my watch before standing and grabbing my bag.

“Come on, let's stop interrogating me and go pick up the boys before all Hell breaks loose at the track.”

“Mom it wasn't my fault, I swear.”

I slammed the car door closed and turned to the boy who stood close enough to be my shadow.

I turned around to face him with a stern expression, “so you did do it? After I called that boys mom a liar? LEVI.”

Levi, my son, looked close to tears, his bottom lip trembling.

“Mom, I'm so sorry! I'll never do it again!”

I narrowed my eyes at him before sighing, already exasperated, throwing the car keys into my bag.

“Did you at least stick to the golden rule?”

His answer was a vigorous nod, the tremble in his lip disappearing.

“‘Never throw the first punch; throw the second and finish the fight,’” he recited the words like a prayer.

“And…?”

“‘Always claim self defence.’”

I smiled and ruffled his soft brown hair.

“Good boy. What started the fight anyway?” I asked, guiding him to walk through the parking lot towards that new dessert parlour.

“He said I was weird for not having a dad.”

I looked down at him, eyes softening and I lifted a hand to rub his shoulder. It wasn't the first time he'd had this argument, and it likely won't be the last. Kids can be assholes. “And then he hit me when I said ‘at least my mom's boobs are real.’”

“Levi!” I stopped in my tracks and looked at him, mortified. I didn't even know where to start with that one. “Where-”

“Jamie from math class told me what ‘implants’ were… and he said that Brad's mom had them.”

He looked up at me innocently, and I knew then that he didn't fully grasp what he'd said to Brad - the kid he'd just punched between the eyes. I sighed for the umpteenth time and started walking again.

“Whatever, just… don't say that to anyone again, ok? You're gonna make me look like a terrible parent.”

“Ok mo- whoa! Look at that car!” It was Levi's turn to stop dead in his tracks as he stood in awe of the sleek black car parked by the sidewalk.

A black Chevy Impala.

“Oh wow,” my words came out slightly breathless, my mind suddenly racing to him and the conversation I'd had with Kat earlier that afternoon.

“So cool!” Levi gushed, walking up close to it but not close enough to touch.

“Yes, very cool. Now let's go inside before they run out of ice cream,” I ushered him to the door, reflexively looking over my shoulder, not knowing if I even wanted to see who could possibly be in the area.

The bell jingled as we walked in and Levi ran up to the counter, pressing his forehead to the glass. My eyes scanned the menu and I was pleasantly surprised to see they served coffee.

“What do you fancy kiddo?” I ruffled his hair again and waited for him to decide, and it wasn't long before he'd made up his mind. After ordering, we headed towards a small table-for-two at the edge of the room, and as Levi slumped down in his chair something familiar caught my attention.

A voice.

My heart quickly became erratic in my chest and my palms grew sweaty. I looked in the direction the voice had come from and was met with a slap in the face from memory lane.

There he was; the same wicked grin and mischievous eyes that had burned themselves into my memory. He dressed the same as he did nine years ago - right down to the necklace and leather jacket. He was engrossed in a conversation with another man, who looked slightly younger than himself, all whilst digging into a stack of waffles.

“Mom?”

The sound of Levi's voice snapped me out of the stunned fog I was caught up in and I quickly sat down, trying my best to focus on my son and not the man who was sitting only a few feet behind him. Levi looked like he was about to ask another question when a giant chocolate sundae and a coffee appeared at the table. I heard the waitress challenge Levi to finish the whole thing, but it was like I was listening to the world through water. My mind wouldn't stop racing. He's here. Do I talk to him? Will he remember me? Do I tell him about Levi? I hurriedly pulled my phone from my bag and sent her a hasty message before turning back to the boy in front of me, convincing a smile to appear on my lips.

“If you have room in that black-hole stomach of yours then you definitely could've finished your veggies earlier at dinner.”

He smirked slightly, like he always did when he knew he was getting away with murder, and it almost took my breath away. I saw the same smirk grace the lips of the man in the booth behind him. The mans gaze shifted to the side and when his eyes met mine - the same vibrant twists of green and gold that I have tattooed on my memory - I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart leaping in my chest as I tore my eyes away. I clutched my coffee cup, staring intently at the dark swirling liquid, praying to anyone or anything that I'd find the answers to my troubles in the bottom of this mug. The prickling on my skin was unshakable, like his eyes were on me and I was trapped under his intense observation, unable to breath. Minutes felt like hours, and eventually he and his companion stood before heading to the door. The moment they were gone with the bell signalling their departure, the air gushed from my lungs as I dropped my head into my hands, earning myself a confused look from my son. I offered him a reassuring smile which he accepted before returning to shovelling ice-cream into his face.

Just when I thought I was safe, I looked up and locked eyes with him. Our eyes locked through the window just as he opened the car door, leaning on it. It was like time froze, and for a few moments, despite my earlier urgency to not make eye contact, I was now unable to look away. My breath caught in my throat as a smirk pulled at his lips before he ducked down into the driver's seat, slamming the car door closed. I found myself chewing on my bottom lip as he tore out of the parking lol, that familiar rumble of the engine practically rattling the windows and, despite the noise, it was a comforting sound.

Once they were out of sight and the impala could no longer be heard, I sighed, pushing my hair off my face and running my hands through my hair. As Levi polished off the last of his ice-cream, my phone buzzed on the table. Opening it and reading the message, a small wave of relief washed over me as Kat confirmed that Toby would be at his dad's for once so she could come over to drink wine and discuss very important topics. She hasn't got a clue what I need to vent about yet, but I feel like tonight is going to be a very long night.

——————————————————————

Next Chapter: Chapter 2

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx

[lavendermin]

Not a request, but I just wanted to ramble about this thought I've been having for a while (,,꒪꒫꒪,,)

Jing Yuan who is so in-tune with how his s/o acts that if they get kidnapped and someone impersonates them (even if appearances are perfect like Sparkle's ability), he's just like "ahaha you're not them, okay where are they" by the first few lines the impersonator says

I think this is such a neat concept to play around with and explore not only the relationship but giving the reader depth with exploring mannerisms and habits they may have with Jing Yuan.

He’s a perceptive man, of course he would tell when something is off with his beloved.

Take, for example, possession by a heliobus. You’re left with an out of body experience like you’re listening from within a dream as a heliobus possesses your body to try to get to leech off your energy and emotions. Of course your emotions are strongest with Jing Yuan. How could they not be?

The heliobus has unfortunately picked up on this.

cw | possession

There’s a knock at the door and Jing Yuan is faced with your bashful smile in the middle of the night. Right off the bat he can sense something is off.

“Evening, my love,” you greet with a shy wave. “I got, um, locked out of my place.”

“Again?” he inquires with a raised brow. “Come inside. It’s rather cold out.”

He’s got you seated in the living room as he brings a pot of tea and some cups. Your hands felt rather cold so this should warm you up, he insists. You take the drink with a sincere thanks, cheeks warm.

“You probably have not eaten since you were locked out. It was a long walk here I’m sure.” Jing Yuan returns with a small tray of fruits and an assortment of small snacks. It quickly takes up much of the coffee table and you anxiously reassure that he shouldn’t have to trouble himself over this for you.

The tea on your lips brings a delightful feeling of reassurance—belonging.

“Who are you, really?” Jing Yuan asks casually, a sharpness barely registering as he maintains his cool. “I know the person in front of me is my true beloved, however, one does not change overnight.”

Your body falters, and there’s a haze that you can barely hear Jing Yuan’s familiar voice through. The heliobus is struggling to maintain composure.

“What do you mean? I’m–”

“Eye contact.”

“What?”

Jing Yuan chuckles, something smooth and calculating. “She cannot hold eye contact for more than four seconds, not even with me most of the time. When you arrived, it was far too straightforward.”

He reaches over to pluck the teacup from your hands, turning it in his grip inquisitively. Your mouth is left agape, fingers slightly twitching as the heliobus struggles. There are slight lipstick smudges all around from where you (or rather, the heliobus) drank from it.

“You do not know her character. She is particular about drinking from only one area where her lips have already stained the cup. She is meticulous. You are not.”

“T-That’s not–” Your voice shifts as the heliobus begins to lose hold. It’s disorienting—feeling like you’re listening to a conversation within a dream.

“And lastly,” he continues, “she would not have knocked. She would have messaged me of her arrival.”

There’s a knock on the door.

“Ah, right on time.”

Jing Yuan stands, the heliobus at a loss for words at such an overbearing energy he gives off. A silent rage flickers like embers with his piercing honeyed stare. The fear is raw as it courses through them—the feeling weighing heavily on you by extension.

The smile Jing Yuan gives is anything but sincere. You feel a shiver run up your spine. “It seems your time playing a part is now over. I would like my beloved back. Do give the Ten-Lords Commission my regards.”

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 3

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 3

Word Count: 3599

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: Chapter 3 is now up! Let's enjoy these simple interactions before everything becomes fun complicated, shall we?

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06

Masterlist

|Chapter 2| | |Chapter 4|

You barely sleep all night. Every moan or noise coming from your father wakes you up. If he grunts in pain, you are by his side in a second. You keep checking to see if he’s feverish, cold, asleep or awake, struggling or sleeping soundly…

You are even more exhausted than yesterday.

When the morning nurse comes to check on him, you excuse yourself to get some breakfast and to go to the property to check on the animals or see if Ace needs any help. You gulp down a huge cup of coffee before leaving, though, hoping that it gives you enough energy to handle the rest of the day.

When you get home, Ace tells you he has everything under control and you should just go rest. You don’t rest, but you take a well-deserved shower, change clothes, have breakfast, drink another big cup of coffee and go back to the hospital. You have this day off work as well and then it’s the weekend so you can stay by your father’s side the whole day. 

As you reach the hospital, you have another coffee and this time you feel it kick in as exhaustion is pushed to the back of your mind and you feel a bit more ready to tackle the day. 

“Hey, dad. I’m back.” You say as you enter the room and sit by the chair. “How do you feel?”

He grins. “Much better. The nurse bathed me.”

Your smile quickly turns into a frown. “Are you serious?” 

“Yeah, bug. And then she gave me some more drugs because my back was throbbing like hell, and now I’m suuuuuper fine.”

You want to keep giving him an annoyed look, but you can’t help but chuckle at his silliness. “You’re incorrigible dad.”

He nods and grabs the remote, leaving it on some news channel. “Bug, you look like shit.”

The frown is back on your face in the blink of an eye. “Dad!”

“Sorry, but you do! Have you slept?” His gaze leaves the TV to settle on you again.

“I… I… a bit!” You stammer. “But I drank coffee, I’m fine!”

“Your eye bags say otherwise.” He shrugs. “Lean back, bug. Sleep a little bit. Or go home. I’m fine.”

You shake your head, cross your arms and stare at the uninteresting show with the highlights of some football game. “I’m not sleepy.”

“How many coffees have you had?” His voice is stern so you avoid his gaze.

“Some.”

“Bug…”

“Three! I’m fine!” Then you fish a book from your purse and open it, clearly putting an end to the conversation. “Let me read.”

Shanks doesn’t press and you actually manage to read a few chapters uninterrupted. For about an hour before you’re overcome by yawns. Looking at the time, you decide to try and take a quick nap before Law comes over to check on your father. Just a quick shut-eye.

You close your book and are about to get comfortable when the door opens and Law comes in, effectively chasing away all semblance of sleep left. 

“Law!” Your dad exclaims, clearly still under the happy effect of the drugs. The doctor nods at him as he greets both of you and enters the room. His eyes linger on you, a slight crinkle between them as he takes in your state. 

Your dad said you look like shit and he's not the most attentive person on earth so… you really must be looking terrible. Dreadful enough for the handsome doctor to notice. 

“How are you both feeling today?” Shanks grins and gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up. Then Law says your name and you shrug, forcing a tired smile to form on your lips and mumbling a weak ‘fine’. “Maybe you should be resting. You know your father is fine and he's got the best care team looking out for him.”

Sighing, your smile turns real. “I know. But I need to be here for him. I need to know everything that’s going on and if I'm home alone, I'll just go crazy!”

That sly smirk tugs at his lips and he nods slowly. “It's a control thing, right? You just can't let go.” Your chest constricts and your breath hitches, the way he speaks those words… they bring such promises attached to them, it makes you want to let go, to surrender. But to what? 

To him? 

He keeps holding your stare. A piercing amber gaze that seems to bore straight into your soul, leaving your secrets bare and open for him to find and read them. 

“Let's check you out, shall we, Mr. S.?”

And as he examines your father, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and splash some water on your flaming cheeks. 

-*-

By the time you get back, Law is finished and the nurses are bringing lunch for your dad. Your stomach growls as it smells food - even though it's hospital food - and you wonder if you should eat a sandwich from the machine or at the hospital bar. 

Law says goodbye to your dad and intercepts you at the door. “Have lunch with me.” It's not a request. It's basically a command, the way he carries his low voice, a slight slur to the words. You want to say yes immediately, but you're frightened - and intrigued - by the hold this man has over you, so you shake your head. 

“I shouldn't.” But you don't elaborate. Because why shouldn't you? You like speaking with Law and he's not your doctor. He's your father's doctor, so there’s nothing inappropriate about a simple lunch. 

And he immediately sees through your facade. 

“You shouldn't, but you want to.” Fuck. “We'll just grab a quick bite. You need to eat. I'm alone, you're alone. It's perfect.”

It really is. 

“Go with him, bug!” Your dad sing-songs from his bed as the nurse helps him eat. 

“Butt out, dad! And eat the food by yourself! You're perfectly capable of doing it with one arm! You've been doing that practically my whole life.”

Law purses his lips but you can see the amusement in his eyes before he raises his eyebrows. “Come with me.” He says and you let out a big sigh. 

“Fine. Let me get my purse.” Entering the room, you glare at Shanks who keeps being fed by the nurse and tell him you won't be long. As you cross the mirror peeking at you from inside the bathroom, you frown and tell Law you'll meet him in five by the hospital entrance. Then you try your best to look presentable by combing your hair and fixing your clothes. It will have to do. 

-*-

“So you entered university two years earlier. You're a prodigy.” A smirk leaves your lips as you nibble your food. Conversation has been flowing smoothly between you both and you've learned that he lived with his uncles since he was ten until he entered university, because his parents passed - he didn't share how and you didn't press. He just added that information when you shared you were a child of divorce and were reconnecting with your father. 

You've been sharing professional and educational experiences and turns out Kaya was right. The man is a freaking genius. And you realise that that fact just turns his sexy points up by one thousand. You're so doomed. 

As he's about to answer you, his phone rings. He excuses himself and takes a look, then a frown and a deep scowl etch upon his face but he quickly dismisses it and sets the phone aside. Just for it to start ringing again. 

He sighs. “Sorry, I can't mute it because of the hospital and the clinic, but this is a bothersome call that I would rather not take.” Another sigh as the caller tries one more time. He excuses himself but doesn't get up to answer it. “I'm busy.” It's all he says, but you can sense him tense up, the mask of perfect control he usually holds crumbling slightly as he clenches his jaw with stress and tension. “Yes, I RSVP'd, didn’t I?” His throat bobs up and down and you try to focus on something else because you don't want to pry. “I don't know yet. Bye.

Law locks the phone with a grunt and sighs. “Sorry about that. It was my uncle.” You smile and nod. Could it have been Doflamingo? You noticed the way he talked about his uncle Rosinante - Cora - with a fondness in his words and kindness in his eyes, but he didn't elaborate on his relationship with the eldest uncle so it strikes you as somewhat strained. “Where were we?” He continues where you left off and you keep talking and getting acquainted. 

-*-

Lunch went by in the blink of an eye and, once again, you realise how simple and nice it is to speak with Law. He's very profound in many subjects, intelligent, clever, witty and with an odd sense of humour. The only thing you barely got a read on, was his emotions. He seems to guard the way he feels about things behind a well-crafted mask of control and assertion. And you have yet to take a peek behind it. 

Though his uncle calling him certainly got a rise out of him and they barely exchanged three sentences. 

Law walks you to the hospital and stops. He had said earlier that he was returning to the clinic for some appointments and then had surgery to perform before dinnertime. He promised to visit your dad before heading home, to see how he was doing. 

You start to feel exhaustion settling into your bones again, so you sip your coffee while nodding. 

“You can't fight exhaustion with coffee for too long. Get some rest. Your father’s fine. This is an order. A doctor's order.” He adds with a slight smirk. 

“I told you I don't follow all manner of instructions, Law.” He hums low and your knees tremble.

“I can see that.” He uses your name sternly and your eyes glint with amusement and desire. “We're still getting to know each other, but I'm sure you'll soon find out that following my instructions can be quite… rewarding.”

You can feel your pulse quicken as his amber gaze pierces, once again, so deep that it almost reaches your soul. 

“I'll think about it.” You say meekly and the semblance of a smirk he had before transforms into a deep grin. 

“Good.” He drags the word and you're left craving for more. Good girl, that's all you wanted to hear from his lips. He said it once. It was meant as a joke but the sound still echoes in your brain. Fuck. 

You're so doomed. 

-*-

When the sun begins to set on the horizon, you try to fight sleep so you can be awake for Law's last check-up before he leaves. But he said he was going to be in surgery so maybe the surgery ran late because he should've appeared by now. 

Your dad is engrossed in another football match and you can't focus on the words of your book anymore. You try to browse through your socials but easily lose interest. Games don't help either, so you decide to just lay your weary head down for a moment. 

You cross your arms on your father's bed and lay your head on them, your back stretching a bit from your sitting position on the chair but you have been bent for a while so it's a welcome stretch. 

Closing your eyes, you sigh softly. You don't even notice when sleep claims you. 

-*-

Law removes his contaminated scrubs and washes his hands. His surgery took much longer than planned and he hated that. He should be used to it by now, surgeries very rarely take the time they were meant to. And he always adjusts his plans according to that. But this one ran three hours late. 

And he promised you he'd check on your dad before he left for the day. 

And as much as he likes being in control, he hates to break promises. 

So he rushed his after-surgery routine, hoping you'd still be there by your father's side, waiting for him. 

You have an inexplicable hold on him. He can, at the same time, understand you as if you were an open book and yet be left wanting to learn more about who you are. He suspects there are parts of yourself still hidden from your own knowledge. 

And Law thrives on knowledge so he's very eager to learn all there is to know about you.

By the time he reaches your father's room, the lights are already dim and dinner has been served. His own stomach grumbles to remind him he should eat something too, but he pushes his hunger to the back of his mind as he pushes the doors to the room open. 

He's about to start talking when Shanks shushes him with a finger to his lips and a whispered shh. His chest constricts as he sets his eyes on you. You're in a godawful position that is not doing your back any good, but you look adorable in your sleep. 

There's a strong feeling within him that urges him to protect and care for you and he doesn't really know how he can feel so strongly about someone he practically just met. 

Truth be told, you have spent some time together thanks to your father's appointments and exams, and you have claimed permanent residence in his brain, complete with zip code, mailbox, address, you name it! Still… 

He sighs as he sets down your father's patient chart. “That can't be comfortable. How long has she been in this position?” He whispers as he approaches. 

Shanks shrugs and pats your head softly. “Hours. She has been surviving on coffee for more than a day. She just blacked out.”

“Yeah, she didn't look her best earlier and I did tell her to rest. But her back is going to kill her tomorrow.” Law sighs once more as he removes your purse, book and jacket from the corner chair and presses the switch to recline it. Then he sets the pillow near the head and approaches you. 

This is the tricky part, how to move you without waking you up? 

Easily, it seems. You must've really been exhausted because he picks you up bridal style and lays you on the chair, setting you in the most comfortable way before using his doctor's coat to cover you up and you barely stir. 

He doesn't resist tucking your hair away from your face before turning to your father - who's watching him with slight amusement. 

“Well done, Law. She didn't even stir. Those surgeons' hands are very steady.”

Law chuckles as he begins his routine examination. “They have to be, Mr. S. People's lives depend on it. And your daughter is just a heavy sleeper.”

“Perhaps… but I've noticed the extra care.” He winks before a frown takes over his face. “She could really use the extra care…”

Law doesn't really want to press, though he's curious. He's pretty sure your father said that because of your cheating ex. And though he's itching to know what kind of special asshole is capable of cheating on you, he lets it slide, as he adjusts the drugs in the IV and checks if the incision in Shanks’ back is recovering nicely. 

Law and Shanks make small talk during the rest of the examination and Law can't resist tugging the coat a bit more snugly around you and making sure you're comfortable before heading towards the door. 

Shanks’ eyes are closed when he speaks, but the older man can't quite hide the grin that overcomes his face. “You know, having a doctor as a son-in-law is something I wouldn't mind.”

Law snickers as he says goodnight and closes the door. That's a thought that will wander through his mind tonight. 

-*-

You wake up to the sound of chatter in the room. The morning nurse is fussing over your father, giggling like a schoolgirl as Shanks cracks jokes filled with innuendo. You blink and take a while to adjust to your surroundings because you're quite sure you'd fallen asleep near your father's bed, in the uncomfortable chair. 

A familiar soothing scent overwhelms you and you smile, feeling relaxed and at peace. It's a musky scent with hints of pine and… disinfectant? 

Looking down you immediately find the source of the scent: it's Law's coat. The corner of your lips tugs upwards as you smile and remove the item from over you. He must've found you asleep when he came to see your father yesterday. Was he also the one who moved you? Couldn't have been Shanks. 

“Hey, sunshine! You're up.” Your father greets cheerily as the nurse tugs the sheets around his torso and gives him a sultry wave before leaving. 

“Dad. Stop flirting with the nurses.” You say sternly as you get up, stretch and fold the coat neatly before settling it back down on the chair. Then you saunter towards Shanks and give him a peck on the forehead. “How do you feel? What did Law say yesterday?”

“I don't flirt with the nurses, bug, they flirt with me. I'm irresistible.”

“Insufferable is the word you're looking for.” You correct him with a smirk. 

“Law said everything was recovering nicely and I might even go home earlier than expected.” You sigh in relief. You know there's still a fair amount of chance for infections or other problems to arise, but it seems your dad is on his way to recovery. At least he's in good spirits and that always helps. “You know what Law also did?”

The blush in your cheeks is faint but you still turn your face away. “I can put two and two together, dad.” You mumble as you fidget with your phone. 

Shanks smirks. “So can I, bug.” You stare at him deadpan as he raises his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Well, you seem to be feeling fine, so I'm heading home to check on the property.”

“Ace's got it, bug!”

“And to take a shower and change. Need anything?” You add as he shakes his head. So, gathering your stuff, you promise to come back later and repeat the routine from the day before. Except this time you pack a meagre lunch so you don't have to go out to eat. Law said he would visit your father but he had a very busy day at the clinic so he wasn't quite sure when he would appear. 

As you return to your father's side, you discover that Law had already come by - much to your chagrin. You weren't quite sure why you felt disappointed not seeing him for the whole day, so you brushed that thought aside as you made small talk with Shanks. 

-*-

The weekend ended pretty soon and Law said your father would be released by Monday at the end of the day, depending on how he was feeling by then. He had already been able to get up on his own, shower and use the bathroom without any help. His back was still swollen, as expected, but otherwise he was recovering fully. You had been sleeping at home since you really didn't see the need to be by his side all the time and you were fully rested. 

On Monday, almost at dinnertime, Law released your father from the hospital. He advised caution, rest, no heavy lifting or driving, and reminded him to take his pills. 

The follow-up consultation - back at the clinic instead of the hospital - was set for next week and you were already feeling a pang of longing from not seeing Law every day, like you've now grown accustomed to. 

“If you have any doubts, worries, or just want to talk about something,” Law's eyes glance at yours, “just call me. If I don't pick up immediately it is because I'm in surgery, but even then, if it's urgent just text, I usually have a nurse monitoring any urgent texts.”

“We would never disturb your surgery hours because of something small.” You mutter as his gaze rests on you again. 

“Fair enough. But if it's serious, just do that. Okay?” You nod and your dad thanks him. He walks you both to the hospital entrance and before you leave to get the car, he touches your arm. It's a very light touch, barely two fingers, but it manages to send a jolt of electricity up your arm, making you gasp as you turn to him, lips slightly parted at the intensity you just experienced. “Don't be a stranger.” He murmurs and you smile. 

“Well, remember I have the best coffee in town - second only to Sanji's - whenever you feel like drinking something other than hospital swill.” You smirk and he grins. 

“I might just take you up on that.”

“Please, do.” You notice how his pupils dilate and his lips purse as you say ‘please’. It nearly has the same effect on him as him saying ‘good girl’ to you. The tension between both of you is palpable. 

If only you were brave enough to glimpse inside the door you closed for yourself. No men. No relationships. No heartache. As simple as that. 

But it’s all so tempting.

“Bug, the car?”

“Right!” You answer, a bit dazed by the intensity of the situation. “See you soon, Law!” You exclaim before leaving to get the car so you and your father can both head home.

|Chapter 4|

[lezbianchae]

Drunk in u.

-

G!p Sana x fem!reader

Sana is drunk on your love.

1.6k words

It was rather a stressful week, and one of your co workers had invited you to a party her friend was hosting.

Her name was Sana, you two had gotten close, and Sana thought it would be fun of the two of you could let off some stress and go parting.

At first you denied, you’re not much of a party person.

“C’mon y/nnnn! It’ll be fun! I know these social gatherings aren’t really your thing but you should give it a shot! Please…?” Sana gave you cute puppy eyes. “I’ll get back to you on that unnie.” Oh Sana. You had to admit it was hard to say no to her. You had a crush on your co-worker for awhile. Ever since she offered you on a coffee date you were head over heels. But you wouldn’t let silly little crushes interfere with your work space. You would try to brush off your crush, even if it was hard.

After a while in thought, you agreed to go out with Sana for the night, it wouldn’t hurt for you to go out more. “Yay! I’ll promise we’ll have a good night! I’ll try to take care of you at the party, okay?” She patted your head, as she towered over you. You felt your cheeks grow warm.

As the night came, You wore the nicest dress you owned, it was a black sparkly strapless tubed dress, as you did your makeup all pretty and sparkly. Hoping to impress Sana a bit. You wore your black leather heels knowing they’d probably kill your feet by the end of the night..

Minutes pass as your ride Sana had knocked on your door, You gathered your purse, turn off the lights of your apartment, and open the door to see Sana in a black lacy dress. And man, does she look gorgeous. You thought the Sana you normally see on a daily basis was breath taking enough, this has you astonished as a shade of maroon codes your face.

“Woooow y/n! You so so pretty! You should show your legs more often! They’re nice!” The comment made you embarrassed.

“U-unnie.. you really have no shame..”

You locked your apartment door, Sana and you walked out to her car.

The house party was at her friends Momo’s apartment. According to Sana her and Momo go way back, being friends in their early teen years. You wondered if they ever dated, hearing Sana talk about her friend made it seem like Sana has had a crush on her.

“We’re here!” Said Sana cheerfully, she parked, and open the door for you. As you stepped out the apartment looked.. really fancy.. almost rich. “S-sana you didn’t tell me it was a fancy apartment!”

Sana gigged, “well i didn’t think I’d matter if we’re still going to have a good time!” She smiled and placed her hand on your hip, you were a tomato at this rate, as she walked in with you. Sana greets Momo with a hug, Sana’s friend was just as pretty as her, they kind of looked alike, except Momo’s hair was in a wolf cut.

“Is this the girl you were telling me about sha?”

“Yep! Cute little y/n! Isn’t she cute.”

Momo took a good look at you, eyeing you up and down, you just looked awkwardly and stood like a cereal box.

“She’s smaller than I thought she’d be.”

Momo eyed you once more

“I know! But isn’t she a real cutie!” Sana pinched your cheek as you just stood there.

“Well any friend of Sana is a friend of mine, c‘mon in.” A Few other girls were in there too. All so so pretty, they literally looked like angels.

-

After a bit of casual drinking and the party nearly coming to an end with people leaving, Sana had a bit more drinks than she should have. Her words started to slur, waking funny, giggling way too much, it was pretty clear Sana had gotten drunk. To which you scolded Sana, you knew she was drinker but not enough to know she would half way finish a bottle.

“S-sana unnie you shouldn’t have drank so much! You were my ride…”

She giggled at you. “Ishh okkiie y/nnn..” you didn’t know how you were going to get home. Sana was your only hope.

“Look, Y/n. You and Sha can just share one of my guest bedrooms for tonight, I don’t mind, I felt like this was gonna happen anyways, I know Sana.. she can be a bit of handful when she’s drunk..so you should take care of her..” Momo kindly offered.

But she was the one who was supposed to be taking care of you. You really didn’t want to have to take care of Sana’s tipsiness, but she was your friend, your co-worker.. your crush… it was the least you could do. “Thank you Momo, I really appreciate it.” You shook her hand. “May I ask where the guest room is?”

“Yeah, it’s down the hall to the left” she points.

“Thank you once again, c‘mon Sana..” you use your small body to walk Sana over to the guest room, as she’s slouching, putting her whole body weight on you. “Hehe.. y/n you can’t even cawey me.. yoursh shooo cuuuute”.. she slurs

“Save it…Sana let’s just get you rest.”

As Sana behavior, she tries to kiss you on your face, which caught you by surprise.

“Muah muah muah…y/n pleaseshh lemme give u a smooooch..” you knew Sana was drunk, but you found this behavior kind of.. cute.. she’s so helpless.

“K-knock it off Unnie..it’s hard enough trying to carry you..” you reached the guest room, helping Sana sit up straight on the bed.

“Y/nnnie… you look sooo prettyy..” she catches you, putting her arms around your waist, Sana looking up at you.

“U-unnie.. you’re.. drunk.. please.. control yourself..”

“But I’ve always found you so pretty…even if I was soberrr.. y/nnniee..” Sana reaches behind your back, starts to unzip the back of your dress, to which you gasp.. “u-um.. unnie..”

“Y/nnie.. can you let me touuuch you right now…? Please…? I Need you more than anything.” This was your friend, your co-worker! This was Sana! How are you going to deny such a gorgeous face. You nodded, allowing her to to take you.

She unzips the rest your dress leaving you in only your pretty black panties. Having Sana placing you to sit on top of her legs. Sana was really hard at this point, practically poking you. Planting a kiss on your stomach, and everywhere she could. Nibbling and bitting your neck, leaving cute little hickeys.

Kiss. “Shoo..” kiss. “Fucking..” kiss. “Pretty..”

You let out a few whimpers, the cold air of the room and Sana’s warm lips feeling your body, making you feel so good. Since Sana was drunk, her sex drive was pretty high, Sana was gonna show you no mercy in bed.

“Can I..?” She plays with your panties. You nod, giving her permission to play with your pretty cunt. She slides them off your thighs, amazed from the string of wetness attached the garment.

“Oh~ Looks like you’re pretty exited too..” Sana gently touches your cunt, feeling the wetness. “I really like seeing you like this y/nniee..” Sana giggles. She starts playing with your clit, making her way to your entrance. “U-unnie..” you moaned. If there’s one thing Sana knew, it was how to pleasure a woman.

Sana was a giggling mess, she loved seeing this side of you. Watching you squirm, with her fingers in you. She plays with your pretty pussy, plunging her fingers in and out, she kisses you, tasting the strong liquor taste of her mouth. How sweet Sana’s lips wore. You wanted more. Sana had you wrapped around her finger.

“He-hehe.. y/nnie.. can we try something a little different…?” Sana questioned. Your head tilted like a puppy.

“I’m a little needy too y’know.. mind if I finish you off with a little something..? Hehe.” She giggles and points down at her legs.

“Can sana pleashhe fill your pretty pussy with my cock..?”

Without hesitation you started undressing Sana. Sana got you addicted, You needed need her badly.

“Hehe you’re inpatient princess~”

Sana grabs your hips, slowly pushing you down on her cock as you squeaked.

“I-it’s so big unnie…” you gripped her shoulders. “Itsh okayy y/n.. you’ll get used to it..” she starts lifting you up and down on her, grasping your hips.. slowly taking you in, enjoying the feeling of your walls enveloping her.

“Y/nnn.. fuck.. you feel sho sho..good…I wanna k-keep you here forever.. f-fuck..”

Eventually, Sana started picking up the pace, your eyes tearing up from such pleasure, you scratched Sana’s back leaving marks. “I’m so close baaby..mmmh..please let me finish in you.. I really need to f finish please princess.”

You loved the way Sana begged.

“Y-yes! Yes! Unnie, please finish..”

The quiet room filling with loud skin slapping noises had slowly stopped, as Sana filled you up with her load, filling you, as she grips your hips riding out your high. “Y/nnieee..” the two of you were on the brink of passing out. Sana got you off of her cock, watching the spill of her load leak out of you, she moved on the left side of the bed, grabbing your waist, pulling her towards you and having you on top of her, cuddling your way to sleep.

The next morning Sana woke up, seeing you on top of her confused out her mind. “Y/nnie?!?! W-what..what happened..??? What happened to us…??? What did I do to you..???” You could only process so much, your body was so sore, and you were so tired. “Unnnnieee.. shut upp…” you went back to sleep nuzzling into Sana’s breasts. Sana just absolutely mind boggled on figuring out last nights events. Momo had knocked on the door of the room you two stayed in.

“Well, you two had fun last night.”

[waldau-archived]

wanna be yours — chwe hansol | 2,208 words | fluff

i'm asexual as fuck (the irony) but friends with benefits to lovers is a delicious trope i would love to see more of. title from i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys.

gender neutral reader. college!au. warnings: mentions of sex but no actual descriptions of anything. also reader is mentioned not to like coffee, because i dislike coffee. soz <3

the last person you expected to see tonight was chwe vernon, dressed in his usual bomber jacket and slacks. yet here he is, crashing into the empty place on the sofa next to you. he doesn't say a word, simply squeezes his eyes shut and throws a hand over his eyes. dino keeps talking like there's been no interruption, but you're hyperaware of the way your legs are almost touching.

you and vernon didn't really run in the same circles before you got together, so it is odd to see him here amidst all of your friends.

"hey," you say, ducking down so you don't disturb the others.

"hurts," he says back, pressing his face into your shoulder. you look around, but no one really seems to be paying attention to you, some of them engrossed in beer pong and the others making idle conversation.

"what does?"

"my...head."

you wince in sympathy. "drank a lot?"

he shakes his head. "not that much. but i can't find seungkwan, and he has the keys to our dorm."

"so you decided to find...me?"

"better you than anyone else."

you don't respond to that, and you can tell by the way his head grows heavier on your shoulder within the next few minutes means he's asleep.

the first few months of your relationship with vernon were based solely on sex. it's the usual story — you met at another of minghao's parties (really, a catalyst for trouble), and hit it off surprisingly well with vernon. there was something you saw between you both and following it ended up with you in his bedroom.

when it was time for you to leave, it somehow didn't feel awkward. so you decided to test the arrangement another time. and another. and it's led you to whatever you have now, which is arguably more complicated than a normal relationship.

for starters, the past few weeks vernon's been visiting your dorm haven't been about sex. no, you've had actual arguments about which lord of the rings movie is the best and why shrek deserves yet another sequel. you've even baked with him, for heaven's sake (which ended not so well).

it's been less about sex and more about you fighting the urge to cuddle vernon when he throws an arm over your shoulder, or when he shares his blanket with you when you're feeling cold (which happens to be your blanket in the first place).

long story short, you like him, and he makes you feel some type of way you can't possibly let him know.

vernon twitches a bit when you pick up your cup from the table, toying with it but not actually drinking from it. you rest your hand on his thigh, hoping he doesn't wake up, while you contribute to the conversation every now and then. you pointedly ignore the looks dino's giving you.

this means nothing. vernon only found you because he knows you the most out of everyone here. he'd be in his own place by now if he'd found seungkwan.

still, there's something about the fact that he trusts you enough to fall asleep on you in front of people he's not entirely familiar with. that has to count for something, right?

people keep entering and leaving the room as the party goes on into the night. when the person next to you gets up to leave, you shift a bit down the sofa and pull vernon's head into your lap so his neck doesn't hurt when he wakes up. dino asks if he should wait for you before he leaves, but you make him go. it's not often you get to be like this with vernon, and you'd much rather he got back in one piece.

it's only when your back twinges and the music begins dying down and you remember you have an essay due next week you haven't begun working on that you decide to wake him up. you look down at the boy in your lap. he looks so much at ease, face devoid of the frown he sports every now and then. you feel almost guilty waking him up.

"vernon," you say, pushing his shoulder. "get up, both of us need to sleep."

vernon blinks his eyes open slowly. "wha'?"

"you. me. sleep. now."

"you want to sleep together? now?"

you trip on your words. "that's not what— i just need my sleep, sol." you bite your tongue at the name that slips out of your mouth. he doesn't mind his close friends calling him that, but you don't think you're there. or you'll ever get there.

"oh," he says, pushing himself up to sit.

"feeling better?"

"much," he says, running a hand through his hair. "but i had to tell you something, actually." he looks shifty. that gets your attention — vernon is many things, but he's never hesitant.

"i, um. i think we should stop seeing each other."

that shocks you the way falling into an icy cold pool would, the water taking no time to permeate your clothes and sting your skin with the cold and rendering you somewhat unable to breathe when it finally hits. "i'm sorry?"

"i said, i think we should stop seeing each other. not that the sex was bad," he says hastily, and you wince. that's a weird thing to say. "no, really. it's been great. it's just...i like someone, like, actually like them, and i feel being in this relationship would be weird."

you can't resist. "do i know them?"

vernon meets your eyes briefly before they dart away to the blank television screen in front of you. "i guess you could say that."

you rack your brains for who it could be. some names pop up in your mind: a girl from his friend group you've spoken to a few times, another from the library, the guy in english lit — but none of them shine as the number one contender for his affections.

you're one of the few close friends vernon has, but it doesn't matter. of course he wouldn't like you like that.

"fine," you say, feeling anything but. "okay."

vernon's looking at you like you're an injured puppy.

"i hope you get with whoever it is," you say, aware you sound a bit snappish, but you don't care. it's not your fault for liking someone as brilliant as vernon, only to be reminded that he doesn't really like you back. you're certain he likes your body more than he likes you, anyway.

"that's it?"

"what?"

"you're fine with it? just like that?"

you frown. "i'm not going to stop you if you want to go. we're not together. you should be with someone you really like."

"sweetheart..."

you shudder at the nickname that falls from his lips. you always like hearing it, more so the fact that vernon says it unconsciously. but now it sounds like a nail scraping against a chalkboard. you're not the sweetheart he wants. "i have a couple of classes in the morning."

"wait. it's a saturday."

"so?"

"we don't have classes on saturdays."

"yeah, well, that's you," you say, pulling out your phone to check the time. it's much later than you expected it to be. "dino's in the lab on weekends and i promised to help him out this time."

"listen—"

"i'll be glad if you let me go, vernon. i shouldn't have stayed this late in the first place."

"why are you acting so weirdly?"

you look up to see him frowning at you. why are you acting so weird, huh?

"i'm not. i just— i don't have to justify anything to you." you know you're being ruder than the situation calls for, but vernon is one of a kind. he'd taken to you despite the fact that you weren't one of the "popular" ones when you started out, and you'd managed to find a lot of common ground with him.

but the fact that you thought he'd like you back was stupidity on your part. you curse dino for hinting vernon might like you back.

"i'm sorry," you say, resting a hand on vernon's arm for a moment. he moves back at the touch and your stomach sinks even further. "i'm sorry this didn't work out. i hope you get with whoever you like. i'm just...tired. a bit. i hope this doesn't mean we'll...stop being friends?" it's a stupid thing to ask, but it's your last resort.

"i would," vernon says, crossing his arms, "if they weren't so dense."

"what?"

"i'd love to get with them if they realized i don't call anyone else sweetheart."

you freeze. you become aware of the people still present in the room, someone laughing, bottles clinking, bass still thumping, but— sweetheart?

"what are you trying to say, vernon?" you ask, making your voice as steady as possible.

"i'm trying to say that the person i want to get with doesn't really understand what flirting is."

you almost drop your phone. "no. vernon, you're not doing this. you don't mean it."

"i do."

"vern—"

"i'm not drunk anymore, see? and i do mean it. i don't just want us to be friends with benefits. i want us to be more. i want to take you out to dinner and stay up hearing you talk about why freud is the worst person you've ever had to read about. i want to watch whatever the heck it is you like. i want to date you. if you want me to, that is."

you're more surprised at how lucidly he's speaking, without a pause, more than what he's saying. but the meaning of his words slams into you like a tidal wave hardly a minute later. "if i want to, he says," you laugh helplessly.

vernon raises a perfect eyebrow. "well?"

you sigh and fiddle with your phone cover. "i don't— i've never been in a real relationship. not a long term one."

vernon moves closer to you, your knees now pressed against each other despite the fact that there's no one else on the sofa you're sharing. you can't even bring yourself to care about all the other people in the room. "really?"

you nod, feeling a strange sense of embarrassment creep up your neck. vernon simply lays a hand on your thigh. "hey. you know that's not a bad thing, right?"

you shrug.

"it's not," he repeats, rubbing his thumb across your knee. "and it doesn't bother me. is that what's troubling you?"

you shake your head. "you're just...the first person to want to be with me, even if it's just for sex."

"hey, it hasn't been all for sex. what about all those movie marathons we had? and that one time i helped you bake a cake for jun?"

"you mean you tried?"

vernon flicks your forehead, but moves in immediately to kiss it. the slight touch has you burning up, and you pray he doesn't feel it. "yeah. tried. but that's the thing, isn't it? it wasn't always about the sex for me. was it...the same for you?"

you can't get yourself to lie now. "it was," you say, putting your phone down and taking his free hand, fiddling with his fingers. "it is. i didn't mean to clam up like that. it's just...i want this with you, too, vernon. i've spent so long thinking about it. i'm sorry."

vernon sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "don't apologize, sweetheart. and it's a relief. i've never felt this way with anyone before. also, i've only had a couple of flings before you, but i really want this to go somewhere. and i want to try it with you."

you try to speak, but nothing comes out. you bury your face in your hands. "aren't you supposed to be drunk?" you ask.

"you always sober me up, sweetheart."

you shake your head and let it fall against the back of the sofa, vernon's hand cushioning the fall. there's silence for a while before he speaks.

"you know, no one's like that."

"like what?" you ask, slightly affronted. "is that supposed to be an insult or a pick-up line?"

vernon laughs a breathy laugh. "no friend with benefits offers to look after their partner when they're bored or drunk or whatever. and they certainly don't show up to basement music shows. you're...really the only person who gets me, you know? but now that i know you, like, really like me..."

"like you back."

you love his grin. "can i take you out on a date?"

"i...don't drink coffee," you say breathlessly.

vernon raises an eyebrow.

"milkshakes. or i could drink coffee, maybe. you like it, so i can try."

"there. again. you're too nice for your own good."

"it's just...me. i can't help— mmph," you get cut off when vernon leans down and presses a kiss to your lips. and another. you push him away before someone notices and teases you.

"i'm going to get some sleep, and we'll meet tomorrow. at a good place. not in my bed."

"you mean today."

"do you want me to cancel on you?"

"no," vernon laughs against your hair. "tomorrow. anything you want."

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part XI

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself.

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X

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

Piece of scum.

Satoru was watching your adored Haruki flirting, or rather, what he thought was flirting, with a girl from behind the cash register at the coffee shop he worked at. Satoru was still outside, just looking through the window. While you had said he was just overly nice to everyone, it did not change the fact that Gojo was still repulsed by him.

As to why he was there while you were at the school with Shoko...

“Do you really want me to apologize to him?” Satoru’s contorted face looked as if he had smelled something bad.

You gave him a soft smile. “It wouldn’t hurt you to apologize for being rude to him,” you stated, but he did not really agree. “I’m not saying you have to do it. Just… He is under the impression that you don’t like him.”

Well, he is not wrong.

Satoru had not said that aloud, but your expression suggested you had read his mind.

“Just maybe try to be nicer to him next time you see him, can you?” you questioned with a pleading smile and those eyes Satoru would do anything for. He sighed, defeated.

So, here he was. He had dismissed Suguru after their mission to come here alone, although he did not want to. In any case, he figured talking to Ikeda directly would be a better approach than him trying to play good friends with him and pretending he actually liked the guy.

Better get it over and done with.

He strode in confidently.

“Welcome!” Ikeda and the other few employees said in unison when the little bell at the door rang announcing a new customer. Satoru kept walking forward.

“What can I get for…” Ikeda’s smile froze when he saw Gojo. “Oh, it’s you.” He was still smiling, but it looked a bit less rehearsed than for the other costumers. “[name] is not here today, but…”

“I know.” Gojo did not let him continue. “I actually wanted to talk to you. Got a minute?”

“That’s unexpected… But sure.” Haruki peeked at his watch. “Do you mind waiting? My shift will end in a few. You can order something in the meantime.”

Gojo noticed that, despite his words, the boy did not look surprised at all.

“It’s fine, thanks.” Satoru walked to one of the vacant tables and sat down. The girl that had been talking with Haruki just a minute ago, looked at him from another table. He did not mind her and neither seem to do Ikeda anymore.

Gojo thought he should not need more than two minutes to make things clear with Haruki; he was just going to tell him that he had not meant anything before and that it was cool that you two were friends as long as he was not up to any funny business. Or maybe he would leave out that last part. If any word of him trying to intimidate your friend were to reach you, coming here would have been a waste of time.

After all, he was doing this because of you, so he was coming in peace and would leave in peace.

The cardboard cup that was placed in front of Satoru interrupted his thoughts, and when he looked up, he saw Ikeda looking at him.

“[name] said you drink it like this. It’s on the house.”

“Uh, thanks.” Satoru thought it strange. Did he just memorize everyone’s coffee order? He was not even sure Ikeda knew who he was when he first entered, and now he knew how he drank his coffee?

He saw him walk into the back of the establishment.

After five minutes or so, Ikeda returned, no longer wearing his apron. He was on his high school uniform. Satoru had seen the girl from earlier wearing the same hue of blue on her skirt. Ikeda waved at her and turned to Satoru.

“Is it okay if we talk on the way? I’d rather not missing my train.”

“Fine by me.” Satoru got up and threw the half-full coffee in the trashcan. The two of them walked out as Satoru spared a glance on what seemed to be Ikeda’s classmate direction before marching ahead, which the other boy noticed.

“It’s probably not what you think it is. She is a classmate.”

“I thought she was your friend,” was all Gojo told him, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Haruki nod.

“One has to be friendly towards customers, right?” He was not putting up his work smile anymore.

So you turn it off and on like a switch?

They were walking pretty much side by side when Haruki asked “What did you want to tell me?”

Fine, right to the subject. I'll just say it and leave.

“I don’t know if you remember but we spoke on the phone the other day.” Not really, Satoru thought. Actually, I spoke and hung up on you.

The slightest smiled appeared on Haruki’s face. “I remember.”

“So…” Satoru did not want to do this, but he reminded himself he had to. “So I just wanted to say I’m sorry if... If I was rude.”

An awkard silence followed. Was Ikeda not suppossed to accept his apology and let him leave?

Haruki finally hummed. “Is that really all you wanted to say?”

It surprised Gojo a bit. He had not expected him to dig deeper.

“Yeah, it’s all. [name] said you might think I don’t like you, so…”

So I came here to try to convince you otherwise or convince them. Just don’t make it harder.

“And isn’t that true?” Ikeda halted and turned his head to Gojo, who swore he had seen that cold expression before. And same as previously, he saw it melt into a smile, but it was not like the one he always had for you. Satoru knew it immediately: that smile was meant to deceive. “It’s alright, you don’t have to reply; I know the answer.”

They were heading for the station, and Satoru wondered if he should just leave Haruki behind. After all, he had already said what he wanted to say, more or less.

The blue-eyed boy cleared his throat. “It does not matter, what I think of you, I mean. I’m just the friend of a friend.”

Ikeda did not look at him. “True, but you are not just any friend,” they were entering the station, “and you know it, don’t you, Satoru?”

It was Gojo’s turn to halt. Not that he cared too much, but what was with the informality now? He had never called him by his first name.

Ikeda gave him an innocent smile. “Sorry. That’s what [name] calls you. I guess it just rubbed off on me.”

“I don’t mind, Haruki.” Gojo’s voice strained on the boy’s name, but his face was serious as he tried to weigh him. He had never attempted to hold a long conversation with Ikeda, so maybe he was just not used to his manner. In any case, it still felt as if he was trying to sting him with his words, and if that was the case, Gojo would sting back.

Ikeda strutted ahead. “Now that I think of it, did we ever get introduced formally? I can’t remember, but I guess it doesn’t matter. I know your name just as you know mine, right?”

Gojo had decided to leave in peace, but with that guy's tone, it was tempting to let his resolve crumble.

“What do you want?” Satoru grumbled finally.

They had reached the platform where Haruki was going to wait for his train, and he offered him a disinterested look in response. “What do you mean?”

“From [name]. What do you want from them?”

“Sorry, but I'm not following.” Haruki shrugged. “I’m just their friend.”

“So am I.” Satoru was looking right at him through his shades. A grin appeared on Haruki’s face.

“If you are trying to say we cannot both be their friends, I guess I would have to be something else then.”

His tone was lighthearted, but Satoru knew his intentions were not, not to him at least.

“Unless that bothers you.” Haruki looked at him.

Ikeda thought Gojo looked nothing like when he was with you, always playful and smiling at your sight.

He looks so serious now.

Gojo did not back off, but his voice did not sound as confident as before when he asked “Why should it bother me?”

“I like them.”

Gojo tensed at his words.

Although it was true Haruki liked you, he had, in fact, been expecting Gojo to admit the same, and maybe get a little bit more honest if he provoked him. All he knew about Gojo was because of you, but the things he had seen for himself, the way he always sat closer to you, how he acknowledged you first among your group of friends, and that more often than not, he was the one blowing up your phone when you were out with him, all of it had made him think he did not see you just as a friend.

Surely, Haruki had been confused about how you defined your relationship with Gojo as well. However, you said you knew him since forever, and that made people often get the wrong idea. He had no reason to doubt your words, but looking at Gojo now...

Is it the wrong idea, though?

Either you were oblivious or Gojo’s love was fated to go down as unrequited. In any case, Haruki believed Satoru should at least own up to it.

“I wasn’t sure before, but...” Haruki looked at Satoru’s covered eyes with a smile “…you are a coward, Gojo.”

The sound of the train approaching echoed in Satoru’s head just as much as Ikeda’s words.

Had this guy really said that?

Ikeda watched the train stop and open its doors for boarding. The station was, surprisingly, not too crowded despite it being almost the peak hour.

“This is me.” Haruki gestured to the train. “See you around.”

Satoru heard the train doors closing, but his gaze was still fixed on where Ikeda had been standing. “Yeah, see you around,” he muttered for himself.

***

Truth was Satoru had not seen Haruki after that. You still went to the coffee shop where he worked and hung out with him a few more times after the start of that winter, though, and then, he had been gone.

Until now.

You were in front of your building, talking to a man that Gojo recognized immediately despite not having seen him in many years.

Satoru had tried to talk to you all week, but his missions kept pulling him away, and it did not help that you were busy with your own load of work. So, even when he knew it was a bit too late to pay any respectable visit, he had come to your place to talk.

Ieiri had told him you had left the school a few minutes earlier, and then he had been pulled into a meeting with Yaga that seemed to have dragged on for an eternity. Thus, he had come up with the bright idea of asking Ijichi to drop him off at your place. He had not anticipated finding this scene, though.

Had you left early to go out with that man? Satoru pondered it while still in the car. What was it? A dinner? You had mentioned lunches and coffee with Ikeda since you had told him about your reencounter, but not dinners.

Satoru looked at your frame. You were smiling at something Haruki had said.

In all honesty, Satoru had often found himself distracted by your smile during the last months. It was not only your smile; it was your voice during meetings, the way you moved when you were training the students, your eyes when you were talking to him or Shoko. To the point Ieiri had sometimes whispered to him “It’s rude to stare”, because he had been looking at you for too long. How could Shoko tell, he was not sure. He thought his blindfold should conceal his gaze, but maybe it was not as effective as he thought.

Gojo sighed. He had not noticed until after your confession just how smitten with you he was.

In the meantime, Ijichi was feeling pretty uncomfortable in the driver seat. It was not unusual that Gojo asked to be taken to your place, but he was sure he had interrupted something between you and him a week ago, and he did not recognize the man you were talking to now. Nevertheless, he could feel Gojo’s uneasiness, and if the strongest was restless, what would be of the rest of the world?

Ijichi believed both of them felt equally uncomfortable when the man leaned closer to your face.

“What is he…?” he started asking, but Gojo shushed him. Through the rear-view mirror, he saw Gojo was looking attentively too.

Ijichi’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. Was him seeing this really okay? You had been a kind senior to him in your high school days, and this felt like invading your privacy.

He could ask Gojo if they should leave, but he was not sure that any questions would be welcomed by the white-haired man that seemed so invested in the scene in front of your building.

On his end, Satoru felt an increasing pressure in his chest. You had told him you liked him. Why were you letting another man that close? Were you going to kiss him? He had never seen Ikeda kiss you, and he definitely did not want to see it now.

He put his hand on the door handle.

What exactly was he going to say to you now?

Ijichi’s eyes kept going back and forth between you and the man and Satoru on the rear-view mirror. He thought he heard him sigh when you stopped the man’s hand that had touched your face and took a short step back, smiling.

Satoru saw your lips move. You were telling Ikeda something.

Please don’t invite him up. Please don’t invite him up.

Haruki bid you goodbye with a smile and started walking away.

Satoru spared him a look. The streetlights illuminated his figure just enough to notice he was taller than before, but his features had not changed much. You probably had recognized him the second you saw him at that store. Satoru’s eyes returned to you as you entered your building.

“Thanks, Ijichi.” With that, Gojo got off and walked after you.

“[name].”

You were climbing the first set of stairs. “Satoru?” It did not take him long to reach the stairs. “Is everything okay?”

You were glad to see him, but you had not made plans with him today, and although he would come unannounced most times, there was something about his expression that made you think he had rushed here.

He smiled. “It is. I just wanted to see you. Can I come up?”

That’s a first. Since when did he ask for permission to go to your home?

“Sure.”

As you walked to your floor, you took in Satoru’s demeanor. He looked pretty much the same as always, but the almost imperceptible way he was delaying his step, led you to believe there was something in his mind.

“You left the school early,” he mentioned casually.

You nodded. “I finished everything early, and…”, Satoru noticed the slightest bit of hesitation in your voice, “I had plans. Ikeda invited me to dinner; he just left, actually.”

“I think I saw him outside.” Satoru’s voice showed no emotion, but he tried to smile. “He hasn’t changed, right?” The smile did not come out.

“Not much," you agreed.

You reached your floor and headed to your door.

“I had a meeting with Yaga.” Satoru watched you take out your keys.

“How did that go?” Had Yaga told him something that was now occupying his mind?

You entered your key in the lock and looked at Gojo.

That tense smile again.

A turn of your key and the door opened, but Satoru stayed frozen in place, so you did not move either.

“Satoru, did Yaga send you to execute me?”

Of course, you had not done anything worthy of such a drastic action, but why else would he come at this hour looking so stiff?

Gojo laughed and, for a second, he looked like himself. “How did you know?” He followed you inside.

You took off your shoes and said with a grin. “Is that or he sent you to fire me. Which one is it?”

In truth, Satoru was feeling anxious. He had wanted to get a hold of you all week and thought a lot about what he was going to say to you when he did, but now that he had you finally in front of him, his heart felt too loud in his chest, and he could not remember how he had planned to start this conversation.

“Yeah, he said you don’t need to come in tomorrow, but you can expect your pay on Monday.” At least he could still get jokes out.

You smiled and swayed to your small living room, sitting down on the same couch where he had fallen asleep last time you had a movie marathon. He wanted to sit next to you, but he felt too fidgety, so he opted for standing in front of you.

“Now is a good time to prove your friendship to me and tell me you are going to cover my expenses until I find a new job.” You were grinning at him, a gesture he returned.

“Of course. In the other hand, I could let you just starve to death.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He smiled, and you knew it was his way of saying ‘No, I wouldn’t’.

You had been blown away that time you realized one of Satoru’s shirts costed almost as much as everything stored in your wardrobe, except for, maybe, the things Satoru himself had gifted to you, which you no longer wanted to ask the price of. Even though you had scolded him for being so wasteful when it came to presents for you or anyone -the sweater he gave to Shoko for her birthday was not cheap either- you knew that, as extravagant as it looked, he was just generous.

You raised an eyebrow. “You can sit down, you know?”

He licked his lips. “I think I’m good.”

Was he really getting ready to execute you?

You shifted in your seat. “Okay, you are making me nervous now…Are you really…?”

“Just hear me out, okay?” When you nodded, he continued, ignoring the suspicions look on your face. “Remember that time you told me you liked me?”

Your lips parted. Of course you remembered, but you had never expected him to mention it so directly. Was not there an implicit agreement to never talk about it again?

“Back then, I…”

Why was he bringing it up now? Maybe it would have been better being executed...

“I remember. You rejected me.” You averted your gaze. It was the first time you had said it aloud and it tugged at your heartstrings.

Satoru crouched down in front of you. You had seen him do something similar with his students. Right after beating them, he would kneel before them to explain where they had gone wrong in their attack. Was he trying to do that now?

“[name]…”

“We don’t have to talk about it.” You thought it had been long forgotten, and you two were doing fine. There was no need to recall that humiliating chapter of your friendship.

With your faces almost at the same level, Satoru could see your puzzled expression.

“But I want to talk about it. I didn’t…” Satoru was going to say he had not exactly rejected you, but you interrupted him again.

“Why?” You were not angry, but he perceived the same hurt tone he had heard that time. “If you feel uncomfortable, you have no reason to be. It was a crush, Satoru. I don’t know why I said anything. I’m sorry, okay?”

You were not apologizing for liking him, you could never, but if he was bringing it up because he felt weird or if he thought you needed an explanation, you would do anything to save your friendship.

“A crush?” he asked. Just a crush?

That pained him just as much as the look on your face.

“Yes.” Just like that time, your eyes were on his even though he had them covered. “We can forget it. I’m over it.”

Satoru felt as if you were ripping his heart out.

He looked at you. A crush you were done with? That would hurt anyone’s ego, but that was not what pained him. His was not a crush, and what he felt for you would not go away in a matter of weeks or months. Satoru had realized that he had been falling for you for years now, in too deep to ever get out. And you had liked him for a second and now you did not anymore?

Satoru’s gaze landed on your lap and the hand scratching your wrist. You were nervous because you were anticipating an argument or…?

“You are lying,” Satoru stated flatly, and if he had not been wearing the blindfold, his eyes would have pierced your soul when they searched for yours.

He could read you well.

“But I want to get over you.” The way your words came out surprised you. You had told yourself you did not blame him for not reciprocating your feelings; it was not his fault, and he was under no obligation to feel the same way, but you still sounded resentful.

I won’t be a bother, just let me stay as your friend.

Satoru knew he would regret asking, but he did it anyway. “Because of Ikeda?”

Was he still upset about that?

“If you came here to argue about him...”

“Do you like him?” It was a question Satoru had avoided asking you for as long as he could back then. And even after he did, your answer had been simple: it was not like that. But now, what were you going to say?

“Satoru, just…”

It took a second for your mind to fully register what happened next: Satoru leaned forward swiftly, his hand was on your cheek and his lips were on yours. Your eyes had closed by reflex, and his lips, as soft as they looked, were moving against yours.

You reciprocated.

Through the years, always denying you were a couple, in your opinion, none of you had ever crossed any boundaries, except once. Satoru and you had kissed twice before. The first time had been an accident; the second, an attempt to prove that kissing a friend did not mean anything, or that was what Satoru had said.

A suppressed grunt came out of him, and you were reminded of his exact words.

“We are friends, so it doesn’t mean anything, right?”

You pressed your hand to his chest to push him back.

When you separated, you were both a little out of breath, but that was not Satoru’s main concern.

“I can’t believe you are this selfish.” Your voice cracked, and Satoru saw nothing but hurt and sadness in your eyes.

“What?” He had kissed you because he loved you, and he was pretty sure you felt the same when you kissed him back.

You blinked, trying to keep the tears forming in your eyes from falling.

“Why kiss someone you feel nothing for?”

He was dumbfounded. That was not…

“It’s horrible." You had never looked at him this way. "You should leave, Satoru.” You were already escaping his hold and getting up, looking away from him.

In the blink of an eye, Satoru had teleported away, and when you blinked again, all the tears you had been holding back streamed down.

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

Note: I... have nothing say. I'll go and hide somewhere.

Thank you for reading!

Next: Part XII

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz

[luveline]

Hi lovely, how are you? Idk if you're doing the blurbs still but if you are, can you do something like Eddie taking care of a hungover reader that just partied to hard with her friends? Or something with hockey! Eddie because I love him and you ❤️

I'm good thanks! I hope this is ok ♡ fem

"Come on, loser. Eat up." 

"Can't eat." You stare up at your friend with pleading eyes. "Don't make me." 

"I'm not gonna make you do anything," Eddie says, sliding a plate of eggs and bacon in front of you at the kitchen table with a shrug. "Feel like shit forever, see if I care." 

You pick up your coffee with shaking hands. "You could stand to be a little nicer to me," you whine lightly, more pleading than annoyed. "I don't feel well and you're supposed to love me." 

You think even a dash of compassion from Eddie could cure you. He's not a mean guy —he's been known to hug you at random moments, or lick your wounds for you when things get tough— he's just having an 'I told you so' moment, of which he's prone. 

"This is your own fault." Eddie fills a glass of water at the sink and puts that next to your plate. "If you're going to drink coffee you need water, too. The coffee will make you feel worse in the long run."

"You're like a drill sergeant." 

He finally breaks, reaching across the table to squeeze your forearm. "I just want you to feel better, you dummy." 

Your eyes dry and your head pounding, you switch from coffee to water if only to see some approval in his gaze as he takes the chair beside yours and starts on his own breakfast. Steam drifts in the air, the greasy smell of bacon tickling your nose. You poke an egg yolk with your fork, grimacing as it breaks. 

"Could I make some toast or something instead?" you ask. You really would like to eat, but the egg and bacon is too heavy. You're afraid you won't be able to keep it down. 

He rolls his eyes. "I'll make you some toast, babe, just drink your water." 

He makes you some toast, plate to his chest so he can eat and watch the bread brown at the same time, eating in that boyish way where he leans down to the fork rather than bringing it up to his mouth. It's his fault you got so drunk, in a roundabout way, though you don't actually think that and you'd never tell him if you did. He was in his stupid elf costume from his favourite book, his hair sleek and out of his face, face painted pale. Will you do my makeup? had started innocuously and ended with his hands on your waist to hold you in place, heart in your throat, pulse a hummingbird under his touch. You had to drink to forget the feeling. To avoid ruining everything. 

He seems to be taking pity on you now, swapping your plate for a new one of toast. He dips down to kiss the top of your head Eddie style, smacking. "You should quit partying so hard." 

"It felt like a good idea at the time." 

"Sweetheart," he says, pausing as you take a bite of your toast like it's his mouth that's full. He sighs and wraps an arm around your shoulders to hug you. "Is it really bad?" 

"I feel dizzy." 

"Eat your toast," he encourages, softer now, not a dummy in sight. "You'll feel better once you've recouped your losses. I'll make you some pedialyte, if you want?" 

"Can't I just have gatorade?" you mumble, mouth full of toast, head full of his naked arm pressing to your collar. 

"Don't want much, do you?"

Still, Eddie hauls you to the couch with a bucket just in case and a promise to return. He drives the two miles there and back it takes to get you gatorade and he doesn't complain about it, just breaks the seal and presses it into your hand. 

It's the most peculiar thing when he sits down next to you and takes your hand. Almost hesitant at first, then like it doesn't mean a thing, he holds your hand for the few hours between breakfast and lunch until you feel better, gatorades drank, and an orange eaten between you. 

"Next year," he says, slinking down into the couch, the smells of lunch cooking on the stove, your hand once again taken and held to his chest, "we should go as a duo costume." 

"Like what?" 

"I don't know. Ferris and Sloane?" 

"No one would ever guess who Sloane was." 

"How about, uh," —he's speaking casually, voice dipped low and rough— "fucking, Baby, from that movie you like? Baby and Tommy." 

"Dirty Dancing? You want to go as Baby and Johnny?" you ask. It's the most coupley couples costume there is. 

"I'd have to cut my hair. I don't think I'm ready for that."

"Did you hit your head while you were out?" you ask. 

"Whatever. You can just go as something lame again." He finger runs down your forearm. "You looked nice, but you could've looked awesome. You could've been Arwen." 

"Oh, I get it now. You want a mental image for the bank." Eddie groans and pulls away from you. "No, it totally makes sense, you've been so lonely ever since Macy cut you off–" 

"Shut up, I cut it off with her." He shakes his head and stands. "You're starting to make me regret it," he warns, though the smile appling his cheeks shows that he's not as serious as he sounds. 

He leaves you there on the couch with that stunning implication, your thoughts racing, and when he comes back it's to act like nothing happened, your lunch nicely plated and an ice cold drink to match. "Try and eat it, okay?" he asks. 

"Sure thing, Dr. Hyde." 

[oneshotnewbie]

Authors note: Okay, I have no idea if you'll like it but the idea came out of nowhere and was buzzing around in my head. I told Skylar and she said I should write it, so… you'll get to read it too, of course. Have fun ♥ Can you tell that I'm really into Criminal Minds recently? No? That's good

⚠️Trigger Warning for the whole series⚠️ This one-shot includes the topic of death and alcohol consumption and those plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

The apartment was dark, only the faint and dull glow of the street lamps outside filtered through the half-drawn curtains. The air smelled of stale alcohol, and the half-empty glass on the coffee table spoke of a night that had gone on too long. Emily Prentiss sat slumped on her couch, her head in her hands. The bottle of whiskey was almost empty, and the dull ache in her heart seemed to be the only reason she felt anything at all. Her head was buzzing, the world around her was blurring, but her feelings were not easily numbed.

Her hand shook as she reached for the bottle again and tipped it. The last drops fell heavily into the glass, but it was not enough. She drank, but the bitterness that burned in her throat was nothing compared to what raged in her heart.

"You can't just run away, Em." Your voice, calm and familiar, rang out softly from the silence beside her.

Emily froze, her fingers clutching the bottle. She slowly turned her head to the side. Your smile was gentle, your eyes looked at her with understanding and warmth that she knew so well.

She felt her throat tighten. She blinked a few times, hoping that the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes wouldn't fall. "Y/n.." her voice broke. Her voice was rough from drunkenness and the sadness that she couldn't shake off. The guilt burned in her chest like fire that wouldn't go out. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing," you answered, your eyes piercing Emily as if you could read her every thought, your hand sliding over hers. "You don't let anyone get close to you. Not even now. You don't have to fight like this, my love. You don't have to go through this alone."

Emily snorted bitterly. She shook her head and drank, desperately trying to drown out the words she didn't want to hear. "I'm fine," her voice broke again.

"That's a lie, and you know it." Your calm voice held her tight, pulling her back to the reality she was so desperately trying to escape. "You drink because you don't want to talk about it."

She closed her eyes for a moment. The room seemed to spin, and she clung to the arm of the couch as if it was the only thing that connected her to the here and now. "There's nothing to say."

"Em.." Your voice sounded more patient than she deserved and you tilted your head slightly to the side, the gentle smile fading. "You can't run from yourself forever."

"What do you know?" Emily's words were harsh, a desperate attempt to fight back. "I failed. I lost everything... everything." She stared at the floor, her mind drifting to the moment, the one terrible moment she couldn't undo.

One heavy, painful breath followed another, and the silence in the room became oppressive.

"That wasn't your fault. You can't always control everything," your voice was firm but full of compassion. You moved closer, your knees almost touching Emily's. "You did your best."

"Not my fault? My best?" Emily laughed bitterly, a hard, desperate sound that echoed in the room. "My best wasn't enough, I failed. It wasn't enough. I..." she grabbed her chest as if she wanted to tear out the pain that held her so tightly in its grip. Her words blurred, more indistinct than seconds before. "I should have prevented it."

You were silent, letting the words hang in the air. Your hand hovered over Emily's cheek, almost as if you wanted to touch her. But you didn't. "You have to accept that you are not infallible. It wouldn't have made a difference if you had been there faster. Sometimes things happen that we can't change and you did what you could."

"That's not good enough. None of it is good enough." Emily turned to you, her tears still stubbornly refusing to flow down. She was determined to carry the guilt like a burden she couldn't let go of. She felt the pain in her whole body, sharp and deep, as real as the whiskey poisoning her veins. "It was my job to protect you. I can't go on without you."

"Yes, you can," you said quietly and sat there, your hands both resting gently on hers. A contact that felt so real that Emily almost believed it. Almost. "But not like this. Not in this darkness. Alone."

Your eyes, those warm eyes, seemed to see through her, as if you could see all the pain, all the guilt and all the suffering. "Just tell me what you need. Tell me what to do." Emily whispered back, her voice thick, almost suffocating. You next to her on the couch seemed so real that she almost forgot that loneliness was her constant companion.

A long silence followed. You stayed by her side, but the inescapable feeling of loss hung heavy in the air. Emily knew it was wrong to see you here, to hear you. She knew she had to stop drinking, but she still clung to the illusion as if it were the last lifeline that could keep her from drowning.

"You have to let me go," you finally said softly and Emily paused. The room suddenly seemed colder, the darkness thicker. "I need you not to blame yourself. I need you to figure out how to be happy again even after I'm gone."

Emily shook her head and stared at you. The woman she loved. The woman she had lost. "I... I can't," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The words came out heavy, as if each syllable was pulling her deeper into the depths. "I don't want to."

"You'll find a way," your hand squeezed Emily's briefly before she pulled back. "But not like that."

The silence between you stretched, and the shadows in the corner of the room seemed to creep closer. You were still sitting there, so perfect, so real. But somewhere deep in Emily's mind, the truth was beginning to take hold. She was too drunk, numbing her senses and poisoning her mind.

"I'm not really here, my love," you finally said, softly and gently. Your eyes were shining now, but you kept the smile, even though it hurt. "You know that."

Emily closed her eyes. She didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to admit what she had known all along. "Please... don't go," she whispered pleadingly, and now the tears began to flow desperately down her cheeks.

"I will always be with you, Emily. But you must keep living." Your voice was barely more than a breath now, soft like the wind through an open window.

She blinked and saw you slowly fading away. The room around her grew colder, the dim light seemed dimmer, and she was alone again. Reality hit her with the force of a blow. She collapsed, the tears now flowing uncontrollably.

The empty glass in her hand was a silent testimony to a lost battle against pain. Reality crept back mercilessly, filling the room with a loneliness that was unbearable.

The bottle of whiskey was still in front of her. The emptiness in her heart was not filled, no matter how much she drank, no matter how often she indulged in this illusion. You were gone. Forever.

Tears ran down Emily's cheeks like streams, and she let the glass fall from her hand. It fell to the floor, the dull sound barely audible in the deep, oppressive silence.

She pulled her legs up to her chest. In the darkness of the night she sat there, alone with her thoughts, with her guilt and the unbearable loss. The memories of what she had lost tormented her, knowing that she had to go on living - without you.

Maybe it would get easier someday. Maybe time would heal the wounds. But at that moment she could only feel one thing - the painful truth that she couldn't save you.

And that you would never return.

[comically-callous]

hiii

can i please request a wonka x fem!reader (timothee’s version)?

like maybe reader is a worker at the market or something so willy sees her everyday on his way to work and they’re friends and he keeps trying to make the perfect chocolate to give to her but he’s a very awkwardly hilarious at flirting?

thank you!! i love your writing sm

Thanks so much! This one was fun to write 😝😝😝

Willy Wonka x Fem!Store owner!Reader(Wonka 2023)

A/n: Requests are open 🤸🤸🤸🤸

It was a lovely Friday morning. The sun was shining, the skies were clear, and people were out on the streets, ready to start their days.

One of those people seemed a bit more enthusiastic than everyone else.

The infamous Willy Wonka made his way through the streets holding a box, walking like he was a man on a mission.

And he was on a mission. A mission to win the heart of the prettiest girl he knew, Y/n.

Y/n owned a little shop that he walked by everyday on the way to his factory and she sold the most interesting items! Intricately carved, tiny wooden statues, colorful glass bottles, quilts, jewelry, old dolls, and paintings. You name it, she had it laying around somewhere.

Willy visited her shop everyday. Partly because he liked the things she sold and partly because he'd developed a massive crush on her.

And after careful calculation, a lot of trial and error, and almost chickening out like 8 separate times, he was doing it.

He was shooting his shot.

He took a deep breath before stepping into her shop, acting like this was a normal day for him. "Hey, Y/n!" Willy greeted as he walked to the counter she stood behind.

"Morning, Willy." She gave him that small smile that always made him want to swoon and leaned forward on her elbows. "How's it going?"

"Good. Good. It's going good..." He should probably say something else. "How are you?"

"Good. Glad to see my favorite customer."

He couldn't help but smile at that. "Um... I have something for you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Willy slid a box across the counter to her.

She picked up the box and admired it. Willy had intentionally chosen to put her gift in a colorful box. She liked things like that.

Y/n opened the box to see a large variety of chocolate, all different shapes and colors, and all delicious looking.

"Oh! These look amazing!" She beamed at him.

"Well, I'd certainly hope so." Willy said with a smile. "I stayed up all night making them.

She paused. "Really?"

"Yes."

"That's- Wow. You didn't have to do that."

"Well, I did." He shrugged. "And I don't regret it."

She chuckled and looked back down at the chocolates. "Is there a reason you're giving these to me?"

Willy thought for a moment. This would probably be a good time to tell her how he felt. A simple "Because I like you" would work. But, his mind and body were suddenly not working, so instead of doing that, he stared at her.

...

"Willy?"

"Yes! Yes. They're because.. I just wanted to show that I appreciate what you do."

"What I do?"

"Yes."

"You spent all night making me chocolate because I run a general store?"

He paused. "... Yes?"

Y/n chuckled. "Well, that's really nice of you." She popped one of the chocolates into her mouth and was visibly satisfied with the taste. "Amazing, as always."

He blushed at the compliment. "Only the best for you." He replied after a split second of hesitation.

Y/n looked away and he swore he saw a light blush dust her cheeks.

That's good, right? Yeah. That's good.

"Um..." She cleared her throat. "That's nice. Thank you. You should probably be off to work now, right?"

"Uh..." He really didn't want to leave yet. "I was thinking I could stay here a little longer. If you're not busy?" He hadn't been this nervous about asking something in a long time. The second it took for her to reply felt like the longest moment of his life.

"I'd like some company." She said with a sweet smile.

Willy ended up staying there the whole morning. She made him coffee and he drank it, despite the fact that he didn't like coffee. But, he was too nervous to make another move.

He began to leave her shop, a bit disheartened by his failed attempt when Y/n stopped him.

"Willy?" She smiled, a slightly nervous smile. "Do you wanna... Like.... Get dinner tonight?"

His cheeks flushed, his eyes widened, and his heart began to race. "Really?"

She nodded.

"Just the two of us?"

"Just the two of us."

He beamed at her. "I would love that."

Looking back on it, Willy was glad she made the first move. Who knows how much longer it would've taken him?

[gay-wh0re-slut]

Thank you so much for doing my angst request! It was so good!Can I request a new one? I’m in a mood for angst lately, but with smutty ending lol

Reader and Rhea have broke up a while ago, but Rhea is taking it harder than she thought she would. She hears that reader is going on dates (which is actually just to kill time and as an effort to move on, but Rhea doesn’t know that). She feels angry and jealous that she’s replaced so fast and confronts reader about it. During the argument things are getting heated and “somehow” they resolve the misunderstanding horizontally 😅

i’m so glad you liked it! I’m hoping it was the one with the prompt bc that one was fun to write. thank you for making another request!

after writing: it’s a bit more sad than angry bc i lowkey went thru this a while ago lmaooo so sorry bout that but i hope you like it hahahahahaoops and they’re not really horizontal but it’s still hot lmaoo

Over

rhea x fem reader

content: angst-ish with sad rhea, smutttttt, oral sexxxx, fingeringggg, hot buff goth woman kissing youuu ooooooo

It’s been two months since you and Rhea have broken up. The first month was hard on you but the second month you wanted to get your mind off of it so you decided to download all the dating apps you could think of. You’ve been on a few first dates and a few second dates but none have lived up to your expectations.

It has been really hard on the wrestler though. She claimed that she did it because she was getting so busy that she felt it wasn’t fair to you that she wasn’t able to be around as much as she wanted. So she decided to end things, unfortunately for her, she didn’t realize how much she relied on you to get away from all the buzz.

You haven’t spoken or texted Rhea for three weeks and it was hurting you, but she was the one to end things so why should I try? you thought. You and her had mutual friends that you would hang out with sometimes and they would try to tell you updates on her but you didn’t want to hear them.

“She really misses you,” they would say.

“Then she shouldn’t have left me,” said the anger stage of grief.

Part of you knew that the friends were telling her that you were going on dates and how you were doing but you didn’t care. You wanted to seem like the ‘bigger person’ and make it seem like you moved on.

One night, you had been chatting with a girl on one of the many dating apps and things were going suspiciously well so you set up a date for the next day, just to see. It was at a local coffee shop because you wanted it to be in public in case something went wrong.

You wore a long maroon, but sort of tight dress that showed off your curves just right, some light makeup, and your hair natural; you didn’t want to try too hard. The time came and you headed to the shop, ordered coffee and sat down at a small table in the corner.

People came and went and you were there for about twenty minutes, checking your phone and scrolling through social media. Because you were waiting for quite a while, you didn’t want to come off as someone who got stood up, so you decided to text her.

“You still coming?”

“Sorry, something came up, maybe another day?”

Of course. This wasn’t the first time this happened and it sure wouldn’t be the last.

“All good,” was the only thing you said. You didn’t like putting effort into something that wasn’t going to go anywhere. If they wasted your time, then they don’t care about you, your friend would say, but something seemed off.

You brushed it off, drank your coffee and enjoyed your time alone, it was nice. You rarely went out by yourself, so it was good for a change.

You finally finished your latte, so you head back home. To your surprise, there was a familiar black truck in your driveway.

“No fucking way,” you growl as you park the car. You sit for a few minutes contemplating going somewhere else in town, maybe a movie or something long enough to where she would leave on her own, but you decided against it. “If she wants to talk then let’s talk.”

You slammed the car door and stomped inside to her helping herself to a glass of water.

“Sorry to show up out of the blue,” the australian admitted.

“No you’re not,” you threw your keys down on the counter.

“Excuse me?”

“Obviously you have something to say that you couldn’t call or text about so…” you crossed your arms keeping your distance.

She was silent but you could tell she was trying not to go off.

“So?” you push.

“You’ve been going on dates,” she finally said.

“Yeah and? Why does it matter? You broke up with me,” the lump in your throat began to form, you were never good with confrontation but you swallowed it down.

“It’s only been two months!” she barked as she threw her hands up.

“People grieve differently!”

“You’re not grieving, you’re trying to get back at me.”

“I’m not. I’m trying to move on,” you glare.

“Moving on means seeing other people after two months?” She walked to the kitchen table and leaned on the back of one of the chairs, gripping it tightly.

“Yes, it does because I’m tired of throwing myself a pity party every night.”

“As if I haven’t done that?” she gestured to herself.

“You broke up with me,” you reiterate.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t miss you!” She walked to the bar area of the kitchen counter.

You let the words hang in the air, you genuinely didn’t have a response to that.

“It’s like you didn’t even care to reach out,” she sighed under her breath.

“The phone works both ways,” you rebutted.

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to!”

“Of course I did! I wanted to remain friends,” her cheeks were flush.

You try to calm your breathing and think hard about what you’re going to say because you didn’t want to get her feelings anymore than you did, apparently. “It’s hard to remain friends with someone you had fallen in love with and been with for a year.”

“As if I don’t know that?!” She crossed her arm and held her forehead with the other, “I had hope that we could work our way back.”

“Well…”

She took a long deep breath, before looking back up at you, “so you don’t want to try?”

“Literally when did I say that?”

“You didn’t have to say anything! I can tell with the way this is going that you don’t want to,” she was trying to calm herself down but you could tell she was struggling.

“No, no, no, back to the main question, why do you care that I’ve been seeing other people? We broke up!” you uncrossed your arms and got yourself some water too, your hands needed to do something.

“Because!” she huffed, “Because I still care for you and I don’t want you to get hurt,” she sighed once more, “and I miss you.”

You stop in your tracks and set the glass down gently before your impulse took over to throw it. You glare at her, “then why did you leave?”

“Because it wasn’t fair to you! We barely saw each other and when we did we would fight! I loved you too much to do that to you,” tears began to form in her eyes but she didn’t dare let them fall.

“I was perfectly fine letting you do what you love and was willing to work it out, you never talked to me about how you felt! You just up and left!” you threw back.

“Are you serious?! I had a flight that morning I had to leave, it was nothing to do with you.”

“You could’ve waited,” you growled.

“And make you feel more miserable?”

“I wasn’t!! That’s what I’m saying! I loved you, hell I still do, but that was bad the way you did it and you know it,” you pointed at her, hoping that she didn’t catch that one part.

“You what?”

Damn it, “you heard me.”

She sat at the bar and hung her head in her hands, sniffling.

“Rhea…” you start, and the lump in your throat was getting bigger, “I was distracting myself so that I could stop thinking about you. You consume my life, I think about you all the time,” a tear fell and you wiped it away before she could see. “I couldn’t do anything that first month, I was miserable, I had to do something.”

She lifted her head, her face was red and covered in tears. “I never stopped loving you,” she admitted.

“That makes two of us,” you said under your breath. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I didn’t want to hurt you again,” she wiped her nose with a paper towel.

You couldn’t think of anything to say. You sat there staring at her, thinking of everything you’ve ever done together and where it went wrong, but it never came up. “What do you want me to say?” you sigh.

“I don’t know,” she caught your eyes. Those icy blue perfect eyes staring back into you.

“Then what do you want from me?”

She sat for a minute racking her brain, trying to think of an answer that was different from what she wanted to say, but what’s the use, she thought and decided to shoot her shot anyway, “Another chance?”

You contemplate for a few short seconds, “You have to promise me-”

“I’ll do anything please, baby,” she didn’t mean to call you that, but you let it slide.

“You have to promise me that you’ll keep me informed on your schedule no matter what. We will make it work. Take me with you, I’ll pay for the extra bed, I’ll pay for the tickets, just…” you take a deep breath, “don’t give up again.” You didn’t think you would fold so quickly, but here you were.

“I promise, I’ll send it right now, the whole month. And when the next one comes I’ll send you that too,” as she took out her phone and sent it, “we can download a shared calendar app.”

“Thank you,” you took a sip of your water and set it back down. “Now are you going to admit that you were supposed to meet me at the coffee shop or what?”

“I had to get to you somehow,” she smiled nervously.

“You didn’t think that Leah Shipley wouldn’t raise an eyebrow?”

“Hey, what can you do?” she shrugged.

The two of you sat in silence for a good minute smiling at the thought of her trying to trick you.

“So are you going to kiss me or what?” you said a little too confidentally.

She basically ran around the counter and slammed her mouth against yours, holding your jaw. Your hands grabbed her waist and pulled her in tightly.

“God, I missed you,” she breathed.

“Shut up,” as you kiss her again.

She carefully walked you backwards towards the counter as your lips danced against hers. Your hands found themselves roaming her body naturally, like it was never gone.

She picked you up onto the counter, carefully moving things away. Her hips shoved their way in between your thighs pushing your dress up as she went, as you wrapped your legs around her, pulling her in as close as possible.

A hand found its way into your hair and yanked it to the side letting a whimper spill out of you. She kissed down your neck, biting delicately sending shockwaves down to your core. She kissed her way down your chest until she couldn’t find anymore bare skin. Suddenly, her arms pulled you forward to where you almost fell off the counter, yanking your dress farther up. She planted soft kisses on your inner thighs which made you crazy.

“Can I-” she whispered before you cut her off.

“Do it. I don’t care just fuck me, please baby,” you had missed her touch so badly. No one had ever made you feel the way she did, it was insane. She knew how to work you out just right.

With a devilish smirk she bit harder on your thighs spreading them as far as they would go. Your hand tangled itself in her hair as you used the other one to lean back. She grabbed at the waistband of your underwear and slid them off of you. A shiver hit your body as the cool air hit your hot center.

Her eyes widened at the sight of you basically dripping onto the counter, “Damn, baby, you missed me that much?”

“Shut up,” you said once more and shoved her head into you.

She immediately began lapping at your juices. You moan loudly with your head slamming on the cabinets behind you. A small “fuck,” fell from your lips followed by another moan. Her hand grazed up your thigh, lightly scratching its way up. It reached around to the small of your back and pushed you more forward into her. Riding her face, your hand gripped hair tighter. The hand sneaked its way back around and prodded at your entrance.

“Please, yes,” you whine.

And so she did, gently plunging her two fingers into you. “God,” you groan as your eyes rolled back.

She kissed the inside of your thighs before returning to your neck and kissing her way up to your lips. You grab her face, kissing her intensely, as she’s now pounding into you. Her other hand returns to your now swollen clit and adds to the knot growing inside of you.

“You missed me, baby?” she coos.

“So… fucking… bad,” you breathe.

“Then show me,” she growled.

Only a few seconds pass and you released all over her hand with a loud moan, squeezing your legs closed but was stopped by her hips blocking your way. Your back arching into the woman in front of you, “ffffffucccckk,” you whine as she kisses your neck. Your nails are digging into her shoulder blades as she continues to pump in and out of you letting you enjoy the high.

As you came down, catching your breath, you release your grip on her shoulders. Your head lolled forward leaning onto the wrestlers forehead for a few breaths before leaning back onto the cabinet. She gently pulled her fingers out of you and brought them to her mouth, cleaning them off.

“I forgot how good you taste, princess,” her accent was so thick you almost came undone again.

“It’s been too long,” you sigh.

“I guess we have some catching up to do, then huh?” she smirked. She picked you up with a giggle coming from both of you and began to carry you to your bedroom.

[alicerosejensen]

Let's go!

Warning: the reader is a college student; age difference; the reader is a little shy

I love Leon and no one will do anything to me for this. So here are some more headcanons:

You met Leon only because you lost the desire of your friends, and as punishment they sent you to chat with this gloomy drunk sitting in an embrace with an expensive bottle of whiskey.

It was really shitty, you drank two more glasses of liquor before you plucked up the courage to sit next to him and say, "Hi, handsome."

Damn, you literally blush after every word you say, and alcohol doesn't help at all. Leon, on the other hand, laughs nervously at your inept attempts at flirting, considering your friends as shitty as possible, since they did this to you by sending you to flirt with a man 10-15 years older. But on the whole, he likes you.

Leon will order you a coffee, because cheap alcohol only makes you worse. However, you're so cute when you blush at a compliment he says.

You have a strange relationship that should have been interrupted a long time ago, but you talk to him on the phone for a long time on various topics.

You are comfortable with him as well as with your friends. Therefore, embarrassment aside! You can talk to him about anything.

His humor can be terrible, just like yours

"I was told that to solve the problem you need to sleep with her, but my problem is you!"

oops, someone drank too much…

Leon wants to be your problem, but not when you're drunk. He doesn't like too much that you drank more than your norm.

You will laugh a lot and make indecent jokes, and in the morning you will be ashamed of your behavior. "Did you really tell him so many vulgarities?"

"You seriously proved to me that my middle name is not Scott, but Sexy Kennedy. Leon Sexy Kennedy."

He really likes it, he wants you to talk about it more often, and not shyly look away.

You're fucked. You cover your face with your hands, begging him to forget about everything you said last night, but he doesn't want to forget about it at all. Moreover, he thinks that his shirts will look sexy as hell on you.

Leon will ask if you want to solve your "problem", or is it better for him to take you home? If you stay, he'll be glad. And yes, his shirts look great on your naked body!

He likes it when you stay with him all day or all weekend. To do this, he specifically buys you a bar of chocolate so that later he can watch you lick your fingers while watching TV

You feel uncomfortable when you notice the gaze fixed on you. Leon clearly has something obscene on his mind, you can see it by his grin. At night he will tell you what it is, or show you…

"Come on, baby, I'm not one of those college guys who, after spending the night with a girl, pretend they don't know her."

However, Leon is happy to spend more than just nights with you. It seems to me that he is quite a homely person. He doesn't mind your things in his house or the books you read while you're with him. In fact, he likes it when you read aloud to him.

He doesn't want to be an unusual "relationship experience" in your life. He's already got enough shit because of work, so he asks you to think about whether you need a relationship with him. He wants to love and be loved in return, so think about it carefully, princess.

If you agree to a relationship with him, he will be immensely happy, but he is unlikely to show it. However, taking care of you will be a priority for him now. Leon is clearly a defensive type.

You'll be his little spoon when you sleep in the same bed with him. Leon will kiss the top of your head and draw contours on your back. You instill in him a forgotten sense of calm that alcohol will never give him.

He likes the idea that he can protect at least one loved one.

So don't be scared when he wakes up at night with the desire to hug you tightly. You'll get used to it very soon, because you know that he has some kind of super-complicated job that he doesn't like to talk about.

His worst nightmare - you were killed or you got infected.

Leon definitely likes to kiss you between the shoulder blades when you're lying on your stomach.

He is so grateful to you for treating his simple wounds. It may be a bruise or a small cut, but the way you tenderly treat the wounds makes his heart flutter. Leon doesn't believe in God, but then why are you his angel?

He understands that you want to have fun with friends from time to time, but please be careful! If you have any problems or someone bothers you, then immediately inform him.

He doesn't have anything against your friends, but he's still worried about you, and he definitely doesn't like that guy…

It's not jealousy! Leon trusts you, but he's also learned to be a good judge of people, so he can't stand some of the people around you

He likes to watch movies with you when you're both wrapped in a blanket and lying on the couch. Even if it's boring, Leon likes being with you, so he's ready to watch your favorite movies/series/shows as much as he wants. But when you fall asleep yourself, he will take you to bed, or maybe he will fall asleep with you.

Maybe someday he'll marry you.

It's okay if you don't want to.

He doesn't want to rush into serious offers, but if you want to move in with him, he'll be happy.

Sometimes he will make fun of you, but more often he will call you by affectionate names. So often that you will begin to think that he has forgotten your real name. Leon will laugh at this, making it clear that he has no problems with his memory.

Leon will gradually open up to you more and more, but don't wait for everything at once. It's hard for him too, and he's not the kind of person who takes out his problems on others. He is ready and willing to take care of you, but prefers to keep to himself what is bothering him.

none of you will ever say it out loud, but Leon puts you above himself. This is a simple truth that makes no sense to discuss. Don't waste your time, because Leon won't change his mind. He loves you and will only love you more because you also love him and care about him.

And yes, he still doesn't trust your friends, although he's glad they made you sit with him that day at the bar.

[thedeviltohisangel]

All The Things I Did (Interlude): Wave Goodbye to the End of the Beginning

a/n: ahhhh it is here! i am so freaking excited to do this little band of brothers crossover with cass. we have all been dreaming of what her friendship with nix would look like and i am happy to report that it is phenomenal. this is most certainly not the last we will see of him because i know for a fact that a night of him and john drinking together can only end in debauchery and we should all be able to experience that for ourselves. side note...what other characters should we explore? part of me wants to write a full cass x ron speirs BoB au? not sure. let me know and i love youuuuuuu

The room was more full of soldiers than she had been used to recently. Thorpe Abotts had been shrinking, slowly but surely, with each and every mission. The hole in her heart growing and growing before it tore to shreds with the loss of her husband. All her days were spent working on ways to get him back. To leverage her capability to get to the camp as a way to get him out of the camp. A man like John was not built to be caged and she would be damned if she let it go on any longer than it already had. 

“Jesus Christ, it had to be you?” Cass smiled as she turned away from the pot of burnt coffee and took in the sight of the one and only Lewis Nixon. 

“I’m just getting a cup of coffee, Nix. Not sure what Jesus has to do with it.” She put the cup down just in time for his hug, the smell of an old friend comforting her in a way she hadn’t known since London.

“Of all the intelligence officers in the entire Army Air Force…it’s good to see you, Coop.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, he noticed, and she pulled him back in for another hug. This one tighter and almost sadder. Like she was asking him to confirm she was here and she was okay. “We got a lot to catch up on?” Lew could almost tell by the way she was carrying herself that she had experienced the gamut of war over in England. Had already learned what it was like on the frontlines before he had even suited up to jump and join in. 

“More than a lot.” She looked over to the maps that were covered in canvas until the briefing was set to begin. “But I think we’ve got an invasion of the European mainland to learn about first,” she muttered.

“Didn’t ever think we’d see the day.” Nixon drank from a flask and Cass smirked.

“The boys need this. Hope that it will end soon.” Lew noticed the way she was playing with her necklace, it looked like a ring, and had a hauntingly far away look in her eyes with her words. 

“You got someone to bunk with?” He led her towards two empty chairs in the back of the room and sat next to her, arm slung casually over the back of her chair. 

“If I say no, does that mean you are going to offer your company?” Having already known how this was going to go, Cass had a few bottles of Vat 69 in her suitcase. Nix may have been surprised to see her but she had done her research.

“Because we didn’t have a blast in DC a few summers ago? Don’t you remember how hard you laughed while swimming in the reflecting pool? You even let me hold you while we watched the sunrise.” Lewis Nixon had first met Cassandra Cooper at a seminar in Washington, DC for all recent intelligence course graduates. It had served the purpose to prepare them for their transition to the life of espionage before they shipped out. One last weekend of an air of normalcy before everything changed forever. 

“That is the perfect reason as to why I would be apprehensive about sharing a hotel suite with you this weekend, Nix! I can’t afford to get into any more trouble than I’m already in.” The lights dimmed and he had to swallow his question. 

“What kind of trouble?” he whispered. “Can’t be that bad if you’re a Captain now.” Cass looked at him out of the corner of her eye. 

“I’ll tell you when you buy me a nice dinner tonight.” 

“Now we’re making bargains?” Someone coughed a few rows behind them. 

“I’m getting soup and salad and dessert.” Partially, they had bonded over the family legacies that they had run from but knew were still waiting for them at home. For that reason they both knew they could afford whatever kind of luxurious night on the town that they could find.

“You’ll tell me everything that has happened since we last spoke? Not a single detail spared?”

“Just ask if I got laid in England, Nix, it’d be easier.” He laughed out loud and the entire room shushed them. Cass snuggled deeper into her seat with a smirk as the canvas in front of them was finally illuminated and an officer stepped out to brief them. 

“Ladies and gentleman, the ground invasion of Europe is here.” Everyone cheered but Cass wanted to cry. Why couldn’t it have come sooner? Why couldn’t it have come sooner to prevent the need for John to go on that last mission? The map revealed landing points along the coast of Normandy, France. She was already calculating how long it might take them to reach Germany. How long it might take them to reach the POW camps. Every calculation came back that it wasn’t soon enough. That she would have to do this herself if there was any hope of saving John. And she would need to move quickly. The minute American soldiers landed on the shores of Normandy, the SS would take control of the camps.

“Well? You impressed?” Nix asked as he held the door open for her, leading her out onto the streets of the English countryside. 

“Sure. Quite the orchestral undertaking.”

“Dinner?” he asked as he offered her his arm.

“Yes. Dinner.”

----

True to their bargain, Cass spared no expense when ordering. In turn she had answered all of his questions as best he could. What had happened to that fiance that she ran from? Had she gotten to fly in a B-17? Was she really the girl on that mission to Berlin? He stayed away from the ring on her neck. From the circumstances of her promotion and relocation. The last name on the registration paper that wasn't Cooper. 

“Tell me, Coop. What’s it like being in Moscow? Soviets planning to take us out with the Krauts?” She dabbed at her mouth politely as she chewed her bite of steak. 

“It’s busy. They have me doing a lot of internal things. Not a lot of mainland travel but I’m trying to get back there.” Soon.

“You really are fascinating, Coop. Southern belle from so much money it could make the angels weep. Gives it all up to become a spook. Lands in Berlin before the paratroopers and gets a cushy yet high profile gig in Moscow and wants to scoff at it because she prefers the mud.” He made her sound better than she deserved. Her family money wouldn’t get John back. She had to fall back on her intangibles. The skills that she had always had, before OSS school, and that they had just taught her to weaponize. Once this conference was all over she would have the time to practice with them and sharpen them and get ready to wield them at the gates of the Stalag. 

“You want to ask about the ring,” she remarked as her eyes stayed glued to her mashed potatoes. 

“I’m curious. But it’s not on your finger, leads me to believe the man on the other side of it isn’t with you anymore. Yet you have it on a chain around your neck which means you parted amicably, still in love even. There are only two ways that happens. And neither of them are good dinner table conversation.” Cass had to admit she was impressed. His logic and skills of deduction were impressive especially when you considered the sheer amount of whiskey he had consumed since she bumped into him at the coffee table alone. 

“And you told me you learned nothing while you were in Maryland,” she teased as she stabbed a green bean with her fork and pointed it in his direction. “He’s not dead. I’ll take that thought right of your head.” If anyone thought about it then that would give it life. Allow it to fester like an unattended wound. Cass would allow no such thing to happen.

“So the worse option then. Captured.” It was oddly comforting for him to acknowledge that it was the worse option. An odd sense of validation from an old friend blooming in her chest. 

“Yeah. But like you said. Not dinner table talk.” He nodded in agreement and was back to tucking into his dinner. “I don’t have a roommate. But I do have a few bottles of Vat 69.” Life was breathed back into Lewis Nixon in an instant. 

“God, I fucking love you.” They continued to laugh around dinner and she forced her stomach to compensate for the chocolate cake but then guilt started creeping in. Guilt that she was enjoying this time and living this life and it wasn’t with John. They should have been able to live these joyous moments together. “Ready?” Nix was standing and grabbing her blazer from the coat hook.

“Lew, if the tab is too much, just say so. No need for us to dine and dash.” 

“Handed them cash on the way in. It’s taken care of, Coop.” Her cheeks heated as he helped her arms into the jacket. “Someone’s gotta take care of you while the other half of that ring is out of commission.” His arm was around her shoulder and he pulled her in close. 

“He is very protective and very jealous. I’d be careful if I were you,” she cautioned as they walked towards the hotel in sync. 

“Tell me about Mr. Cassandra Cooper.” Cass tugged the hand that was resting on her shoulder tighter around her.

“He’s a pilot from Wisconsin. Joined before Pearl.” Lew hummed in acknowledgement. “Has a mustache,” she added with a smile. 

“Always saw you ending up with a mustached man.” She laughed, working her way through the hotel lobby and towards the elevator. “Sit tight. My bags are with the desk.” While waiting, her hand unconsciously drifted to grab the ring around her neck. If she focused long enough, she would almost feel it burning her palm. On particularly lonely nights she would run it down her cheeks and feel wisps of his fingers. Press it to her lips and feel the way he would whisper how much he loved her. It was exhausting to be without her other half. The piece of him that resided inside of her trying to reach him. Stretching herself thin and wearing down to the bone with the effort it took. 

“How’s Kathy?” she asked when Lew got back. 

“Fine,” he shrugged, “we fight over the dog a lot.” 

“The dog?”

“Why? You and Mr. Mustache a picture of peace and tranquility?” His arm held the elevator doors open as she stepped inside and pressed the button that said eight. 

“Major Mustache to you, Lieutenant.” Pulling her own rank on him would feel ridiculous. “And our play fighting and bantering is what gets me out of bed in the morning. Or…got me out of bed in the morning.” Now the only thing that fueled her was her plot for revenge. She was half tempted to throw a lit match into the camp and see how far that got her. 

“Major. Your mother won’t be upset he isn’t a Colonel? General, even.” Harding flashed across her eyes quickly. 

“She’ll be upset he isn’t a politician or a banker or a lawyer or some other traditionally pleasant profession. And she’ll be even further incensed when she learns I got married in London without her permission.” Just past the open doors, her shoes were kicked off angrily as she stalked towards the crate in the corner. “Bottle or glass?” Nix weighed his options.

“Bottle.” The one in her left hand went to him and the other went to her mouth. “It’s that kind of night?” 

“That kind of year.”

----

They lost track of time as they finished their bottles and decided to share another one. They were on the floor, pillows under their heads as they looked up at the peeling paint of the ceiling. 

“When this is all over, I need to meet this Major of yours. We can meet in Chicago or New York or bumfuck middle of nowhere. We can get drunk just like this and be fucking happy.” Cass smiled and laughed as he fumbled to try and light his cigarette.

“John will love that. We’ll still be married but you and Kathy…” Nix groaned.

“Kathy.” He handed it to her once he finally managed to capture it in the flame. “Absence is supposed to make the heart grow fonder, Coop.” 

“I don’t like being away from him. I don’t feel like myself when he isn’t with me.” She absent-mindedly played with the ring that was resting against her chest. “I was so close to getting him out of there. He was in my arms…I just couldn’t get him on the damn horse. I wasn’t strong enough to get him out and now they have him caged.” A tear snuck out of the corner of her eye and she wiped it away harshly. 

“Cass,” Nix set the bottle to the side and opened his arms up to her, “your love is going to survive this. Whatever version of you makes it out of here and whatever version of him makes it out of there are going to be so fucking in love I am going to be sick.” She snuggled deeper into his chest. 

“Do you think they’ll fire me if I get myself thrown in a POW camp on purpose?” He’d warn her against it if he thought it would make a difference. 

“Well, walk me through the tradecraft. Do it right, they’ll never know.” When she sat up, she looked more alive than she had in awhile. 

“One of the guards has a very sick mother…”

The rest of the night was spent with her walking him through her plan. The network she had built to get her to the edge of the camp in the first place, the vulnerabilities she had found within the ranks of the guards to get her husband brought to her when required and the web she was weaving to get past the fence and into the barracks. He challenged the motivations of the guards. Challenged the security of her assets along the path. Offered her perspectives on a cover story and made sure she was emphatically aware of the danger she was taking on by enacting this plan. 

“I can’t think of anyone more qualified in recklessness to take this on, Captain,” he said as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. “He’s one lucky fucking bastard to have a girl willing to do this for him.”

“I’m the lucky one. He’s given me a home. Something to look forward to and a place to feel safe while doing it.” She laughed with no humor behind it. “That future…he’s the only one I want it with. Any other version and it isn’t worth it.” He heard the meaning behind her words. If this was her last mission, she would be going out exactly the way she wanted to. Cass was not meant to live without John. And she didn’t plan on doing so either. 

“As if I needed another reason to want Hitler dead. Now I have to add your love story to the list.” Nix rolled his eyes but there was nothing but love in them. 

“Oh, have you heard the tale of Princess Spook?” 

“Does she have a dashing advisor named Sir Nix?” 

“Not yet but she can.” 

Saying goodbye to him hurt in a way she couldn’t describe. The time spent with him shielding her from the pain and suffering that her reality had to offer her. It had felt good to talk to someone about John and not have to comfort them. Not have to recognize their pain in losing him as well. To share her thoughts and have him listen and provide solutions and not try to dissuade her from the path she was on. It was the first time she had been able to let her guard down in a long while. It would be her last chance to do so for many months.

Cass waved goodbye from the door of her train until it pulled away and Nixon was a speck on the horizon. She stayed there and looked in the same direction until the wind whipped too cold. And as she did everytime the breeze kissed her cheeks, she imagined it was John. And she kissed her fingertips and held them to the wind with a message in the hopes it would return her sentiments in kind.

I love you, John.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

[daengtokki]

𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹

© ᴄᴀɴꜱᴜᴀᴋɴᴅ

────────────────────✦

Kim Seungmin/noona reader

wc: 6.8k

rating: fluff/explicit/18+ ಇ (idiots to lovers)

contains: light angst, weight mention, medication mention, virgin!Minnie, unprotected sex

songs to listen to while reading: violents - awake and pretty much sober / orion sun - water

part one / part two // masterlist ☽

Every story I write is a work of love, and I enjoy spending my free time doing it, regardless of the attention is receives, but your reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! If you enjoy anything I write, please reblog! ❣️

────────────────♡───✦

There should be tension, but there isn’t. It’s dark—every light is off, and the curtains are closed to the city outside. All either of you can see is what your eyes allow in the pitch black.

Seungmin keeps to his side, respecting the empty space between you.

He’s tight under the covers, but his eyes are wide open and taking in as much as possible. You, however, are beginning to doze off. You’re exhausted, and he’s smiling as your eyes get heavier—they close longer each time you force yourself awake to look at him.

“Sleep”

It may be the start of a dream, but you think you hear him speak to you.

“Sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning”

-

The curtains are pulled back when your eyes open again, and it’s so bright in the room, you have no choice but to pull the blanket over your head. Seungmin isn’t where you can see him. The spot where he should have been is neat and doesn’t look slept in. Your heart sinks. Did your head bring him back after he left? You fell asleep thinking he was with you, speaking softly as you drifted off to sleep.

“Good morning”

You turn, and there he is, leaning against the doorway. He changed his clothes, probably into whatever he kept in his overnight bag, but his hair is evidence of how hard he slept.

“You’re here”

“I’m here. I made some coffee, if you’re ready to get up. But sleep more if you need to.”

“No, I’m good. I’ll be out in a few minutes.

Seungmin did stay. Or, you didn’t kick him out, at least. Last night is hazy, and drinking was a stupid mistake, so the only thing you can remember is that you acted like a fool. And only he knows just how much of a fool. You feel okay, though. You’re not as hungover as you should be, but you do feel the ghost of a headache pushing at the back of your eyes.

When you finally come out, he watches you from the same spot he sat in last night, on the far side of the coffee table. There’s a mug already poured for you, right next to his.

“Are you hungry? Some haejangguk might be good for both of us.”

Calm and sweet and soft as always. You know his other side, the brat…the comedian—the one who always has a sarcastic comment to give out. You love both of them. But you know there’s so much more.

He seems to realize you drank well beyond your limit, he just hasn’t said it yet.

You look at him over the rim of your mug as you sip. He’s staring hard at his coffee.

“We drank too much last night, I think”

“I drank too much, not you…you don’t have to go easy on me. I acted like an idiot.”

“What happened? Did you mean what you said last night?”

“More than an idiot”

“No,” he shakes his head. “You were so upset, it was scary. Tell me you’re okay.”

“It’s so late, you must be busy today”

“I told the guys to call me in sick. I don’t have to be anywhere. Do you feel okay?” He cautiously inches his hand towards you, “do you feel like yourself?”

Sometimes you forget how much of yourself you’ve given to him over the months, and it seems like he knows you were out of it last night, literally…mentally. Not just drunk. But it’s been a while, and your tolerance has obviously diminished. Whatever adjustments you’ve had in your medication recently, it certainly doesn’t want any alcohol on top of it.

“Yeah, I think so. I can’t remember much of what happened. I thought I only dreamt that you stayed with me last night.”

“I was here,” his hand goes for your cheek, and runs his thumb across it. “And you slept soundly all morning.”

“Thank you for staying”

“Thank you for letting me”

“…but I understand if you don’t want to anymore”

Seungmin smiles and shakes his head, “how long have we known each other now?”

You do the math in your head as soon as you remember what day it is. “A year and…” when you look up at him again, he looks like he’s thinking along with you, “two months, three weeks...five days.”

“No hours?”

“Almost two hours, I think it was around noon when we met”

“You remember that?” His eyes light up when you nod at him, “well, in all that time, I have never not enjoyed your company, or wanted to cut our time short. I will stay for as long you’ll have me.”

“Seungmin, how long have you felt…like this? How I feel?”

“Let me think…” he sips his coffee, but his eyes don’t move from yours. And you can see the grin behind his mug. “Uhm, it was the day before Seotdal Geumeum, and you had just come back from a trip.”

The story already sounds familiar. You weren’t even sure he’d remember a certain day or conversation between the two of you, but knowing he kept this memory in his head—you suddenly need to get closer to him. Your eyes fall to the empty space on his crossed legs, and a memory from last night jumps up, but you shake it off and go back to his eyes.

“I saw you walking toward the cafeteria, and you stopped to say hi to me. I wasn’t sure you actually remembered who I was. Or if you knew my name. But you looked right at me, smiled and said, ‘good morning Seungmin, did you have breakfast already?’ And I thought for a moment that you were asking me to get breakfast, but…how silly, why would you want to get breakfast with me?”

The story is familiar. You remember this exact moment with him, and you laugh, but keep quiet until he finishes.

“I told you I did. You said ‘maybe next time’, and walked away. I watched you until you were gone. And every time I went down to eat, I hoped I would see you, so you could ask me again.”

“But you asked me”

Seungmin laughs and gets to his feet, “I’ll get us more coffee.”

“I was so upset that first time, when you told me you’d already eaten. It took so long to finally work up the courage to talk to you while you were alone. But I did that much, at least.”

More memories of him come to you as you watch him make your coffee; the first time you did eat with him, but not in the cafe at work. Seungmin asked if you’d go to the park and get hotteok with him because he was craving something sweet, and nobody else wanted to go. It was the first time he caught you alone, just as you were leaving. And of course you went—you cherished every moment of those two hours together because you weren’t sure if it would happen again.

Thinking back to that night makes you wonder how it took this long to get here.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone to look at me over Chan or Minho hyung…any of them, really. Especially wasn’t expecting it to be you.” Seungmin sits back down and looks at you, and he stares quietly for much longer than necessary. He blinks slowly, and you can tell something is going on behind his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I remember Chan hyung talking about you before that, before we started spending time together. I feel like he was interested in you, but never did anything. I’m sure he still is. Anyway…I think I was kind of in love from that moment on.”

The air catches in your throat, and your heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of your chest. When you look at him, he sips his coffee like he didn’t just say what he said, but the pink of his cheeks makes you think otherwise.

“You were?” Sounding casual is impossible. You barely get the words out in a whisper.

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. That was—“

“I don’t wanna disappoint you,” you stop and look toward the kitchen, toward the bedroom, then back at Seungmin. “Shit, I’m starting to remember last night.”

Bits and pieces pop up to the surface; the very moment your self conscious brain took over, when he lifted your shirt over your head, how concerned he was, how tight he held you. You remember him turning off the light to try to make you more comfortable, but nothing was going to fix what was already in motion.

“Too much? I can take that back, and save it for another time.”

And then he silently refused to leave. If you had ended up having your way, and if Seungmin had failed to see through you, you’d be having a very different morning.

“No, I’ll take it now.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

A week goes by before you have a chance to see him again, but it feels like a month. As the days pass, and you lay in bed at night trying to sleep, the things you did and said to him that night slowly resurface. And you hate yourself for it. The intrusive thoughts and self-doubt aren’t new, but you can’t believe you unleashed it on him. Seungmin didn’t deserve that.

The worst part of all of it, is that he remembers even more than you. Seungmin remembers every word and look you gave him. But he still left that night and texted you to check up, and he kept texting you…

I’ll see you tonight! If that’s still the plan. It’s been a long week, so I’m looking forward to it. I don’t want you to feel bad if you aren’t up to it, though.

Just let me know. If so, maybe I can just call you. I hope you have a good day.

You don’t want to mess things up again, and you won’t. The two of you will have dinner, watch a movie, nothing crazy…and hopefully afterward, you can pick up where you left off before things went downhill. But if not, you’re just happy to have him here with you again.

─ ⋅⋅ ─

He arrives right on time. When you open the door to greet him, his hands are stuffed in his pockets, his backpack is slung over one shoulder. The smile on his face is a little reserved.

Last week, when he left, things weren’t tense or awkward, so you’re not worried about that. What you don’t know is that Seungmin has been busy dwelling on his own words—his accidental confession…telling you he’s been in love with you. Not just harboring a secret crush, a physical attraction, a desire for sex—actually in love with you. He feels stupid for saying it. He feels silly and vulnerable for feeling it.

“Get in here,” you grab one of the straps and pull him in enough to close the door, “it’s good to see your face again.”

“Is it? I haven’t slept much the last few nights. I feel so tired and puffy.” He rubs his hands down his face and groans.

“Why haven’t you slept?” As much as you want to yank him down and kiss him, you don’t. You need to be careful, because even without the alcohol messing things up, you’re nervous. You reach out for him, “I don’t mind if you fall asleep on the couch.”

He leans onto your hand as it cups his chin. “I want to make sure I didn’t make things weird last time.”

“You? Make things weird?”

“Yes, because I kinda…said…the “L” word”

“No Minnie, you didn’t say anything wrong. I’m more afraid of you not feeling that way.”

You don’t have to worry about kissing him—he goes for it first. His hands wrap softly around the sides of your neck as he works on your mouth, and he’s so good at it. Or maybe he’s not, and you just think he is. Maybe you’re both a little awkward. It doesn’t matter—his tongue sliding against yours, and his hands squeezing your neck is heaven.

Seungmin is desperately pulling you closer to his height. His arm grabs around your waist and lifts, and your stomach drops at the thought of him trying to pick you up and failing. You’re too heavy for this. He doesn’t try, though—just brings you closer to his mouth, touches all over your back. Then bites down hard on your lip.

You ouch and laugh into the kiss as he slowly lets go, and he brings some blood back with him.

“I…oh you’re bleeding,” he licks it from his lips and wipes at yours with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “I’m such an idiot, I’m sorry. Does it hurt?”

“No, I’m okay! It’s no big deal, it’s just a little scratch.”

He watches it for a moment to see if it starts again, and it does. “Let’s go put something on it.”

You won’t tell him, but your bottom lip is throbbing. Seungmin already feels bad enough, and you watch his worried face as he wets a washcloth, rings it out, and puts it on you. And the cold feels so nice.

“See, it did hurt,” he peeks at it again to see if he got anymore blood. “That feels good, yeah?”

“It does”

“I didn’t know my teeth were so sharp,” he says it mostly to himself, “maybe it was my braces.”

His tongue slides across his top teeth to check. Then his bottom teeth. And then he does the same thing with his thumb and index finger.

“It’s okay, Minnie. It’s not gonna discourage me from kissing you.”

“Mm, but it might hurt if we do that right now,” he frowns and runs his thumb over the mark he made, across your lips, then leans forward to kiss your forehead.

“I can be patient”

Seungmin stays there for a while, lips pressed firmly against you. Your mouth still throbs a little, but you push it out of your mind and go straight for his neck. So, not very patient. You can only reach him when he’s bent down like this, so he lets you go after him until you bite down.

“Oh, you’re just getting back at me!”

“That wasn’t the plan, but I took the opportunity”

“Do it again,” he grabs you and lifts until you can nuzzle against his neck.

“Okay, just one more”

You kiss the same spot and suck, sink your teeth in a little, just until you hear him sigh. Seungmin likes getting bit, and maybe doesn’t mind you leaving marks. You move down a little near his collar bone, and suck again.

“That’s two,” he laughs and groans when you bite down.

“Stop me if you want”

The mm mm in your ear tickles and tingles down your spine, and you’re lifted again, but this time your feet leave the floor and you have no choice but to grab him around the neck, “Seungmin!”

“Yeah?” He holds you securely around your hips, and he’s smiling, very satisfied with himself. “What?” He smiles even wider, “you don’t like being held?”

“No, I just wasn’t sure you could lift me”

“I wasn’t worried,” he squeezes even tighter and licks his lips. “Besides, I’m stronger than I look.”

“I see that…” the pain in your lip still hasn’t quit, thanks to your biting, so you go for another soft kiss on his lips, “strong legs.”

“Strong core.” Seungmin returns the kiss, just as softly.

The thought of him and his core sends your stomach swirling, and it dips down slowly and makes your thighs shake. Seungmin feels you tighten around him, and his fingers dig into your back.

“Are you gonna take me somewhere?”

“Hm? Oh…yes, but this is also nice,” he takes a few steps out of the kitchen, toward the couch, gaze stuck on yours.

It’s a smooth walk, and you’re still a little surprised at how easy it seems to be for him—but you think too soon, because it feels like you’re going to fall, but you don’t, because Seungmin catches himself before you both end up the floor. He still holds tight and looks at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry, uh…”

“Coffee table”

“Yeah, forgot about the coffee table. You good?”

Just as you nod, he bends down and very carefully sets you on the couch. But he doesn’t sit with you, or climb over you like you want him to. Seungmin stands and looms, pushes his hair back and away from his eyes. He just looks at you for a moment, then his stare very obviously moves down your body, then back up.

“Be right back”

He turns and walks off before you can protest. Off toward the bathroom, you think, or you assume. Where else could he possibly be going? You lie there for a while and wonder if the room is too quiet, too awkward, considering what might be about to happen. Dinner is still in the oven staying warm, and as much as you want to get up and check on it, you don’t want him to come back out and see you some where he didn’t put you.

What you can do is reach for your phone on the coffee table, connect to your speakers, and get rid of the silence. You do, and you fight with yourself for far too long about what to put on, about what would even be appropriate for right now.

Then you look down at yourself—the outfit you threw on is a little short of date night, but you knew you were staying in, and you wanted to be comfortable. Seungmin always is…he came in his usual sweatpants and t-shirt tonight. You loosen the string on your shorts and tie it in a bow just as he comes back out.

“Are you comfy?” He bends down and kisses your forehead again, then looks around. “I like the mood music.”

“Yeah, you okay? You were gone for a while.”

“I’m okay,” his voice softens as he looks at your hand hanging from his pocket. “I’m good.”

Seungmin doesn’t stop you when you slide it closer and touch him. He’s still soft, but not completely—he’s growing, and he twitches against your fingertips. It feels like last time, though, and you don’t want to recreate that, even if you are okay tonight. But Seungmin whines when you pull your hand away.

“I can turn some lights down,” he whispers, “gimme a second.”

He starts with the lamp right above you, then heads toward one of the windows and clicks off another one as he pulls the blinds shut. Now the only light is what’s spilling in from the kitchen. It’s much better.

Seungmin stands over you again, mostly a silhouette, and the light lays softly on one side of him, “is that better?”

His voice is warm, and he looks warm—he is warm, you know that—and your need for him is pulsing through every vein and muscle and limb . It feels like your heart could explode, and keeping your breathing steady is much more work than it should be. You sit up a little and reach for him again, his waistband this time, and tuck your fingers into it. Your knuckles run across his sharp hip, you pull, and Seungmin pulls on his other side.

There’s no teasing this time. You pull down, he follows, and you take his cock in your hand once he’s free. Still not fully hard, but considering his size, you’re not surprised.

“Seungmin?” When you look up at his face, mostly hidden by the dark, you can see his lust drunk eyes getting heavy.

“Mm?”

He falls to one knee on the couch and puts all of his weight on it, and grabs for you. The feeling of your strokes has him a little dizzy, so when you use your mouth, it feels like he might collapse into you. He stays up, though. One hand grips the back of your neck, the other uses the couch for balance. Watching you is making him delirious.

You slow down, but your lips don’t leave him. They graze lightly over his length, and your tongue comes out to lap up the pre-cum. When you look up at him, you wonder if he realizes how out of it he looks. You’re surprised his legs haven’t given out on him. “Sit.”

He listens and pulls at his sweats on his way down. It’s a relief to be relaxing, melting into the couch as you swallow him again. Now his hands can touch you more, slide across your neck and back, move down until his fingers slip under your shorts and squeeze. Seungmin has been quiet, but he finally moans, and it sends you over the edge.

As soon as you stop, he whines again—just a barely audible no as his hips writhe beneath the loose grip of your hand.

“Minnie,” you start again, and your strokes are slow and careful, and just enough to keep him where he’s at. A change of position wakes him up a little. “Look at me.”

“I’m looking,” he smiles and grabs your hip. “I’m here.”

“You sure?”

He’s as here as he’s going to be. Soon, he’ll be even more lost, but Seungmin nods seriously as he watches you.

“Min…hey can I ask you something?”

He doesn’t answer. His eyes are too busy following the up and down of your hand on his cock. The sound, the way you squeeze so gently and move your thumb across his head.

“Minnie?” This time you stop completely, and it breaks the trance he’s in. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

A quick, dazed nod, then he patiently waits as you put his dick away and fix his sweatpants. Now he holds you tight. He’s not sure how well he’ll stand with his legs so unstable, and with this painfully hard erection sucking the blood from his limbs, but he’s going to try.

“Hold onto me,” he scoots up and plants his feet firmly on the floor, and then he’s up with nothing but a tiny grunt. Seungmin sighs as he gets his bearings, and starts to move.

“I could’ve walked,” but you like this…you like the smile on his face when he hitches you up and holds you securely against him. This view almost makes you forget all of the things you remembered from before—the thoughts, and doubts that still float into your mind when you have too much time to think. Looking at him makes them less powerful each time.

“Bedroooom,” he sings it, and it empties your head and gives you butterflies. “I won’t trip this time.”

The only thing on your mind is him.

“What were you gonna ask me?”

What were you going to ask? It’ll come back to you eventually, but for now, it’s not important.

“I’ll let you know when I remember.”

The trip to the far side of the bed is long. Seungmin takes his time, walking slowly, watching you but peeking over your shoulder to make sure he isn’t running into anything. He pulls you close before setting you down, kisses your shoulder and neck.

“You are a surprise…”

He tilts his head, “why am I a surprise?”

The head tilt, the soft biting on his bottom lip…there’s something so strangely confident about him as he stands over you. Now you remember what you wanted to ask him.

“You’re a little romantic”

Seungmin pulls his shirt off and shakes his hair flat again, “I am? Is that not what you expected?”

“No, I guess it isn’t.”

He’s on you before you can finish your thought, first just hovering, looking at you. He waits for you to touch him, because as soon as your hands slide up his sides, he comes down and kisses again. Ear, neck, all along your shoulder.

“Why not?”

Because you’ve only ever, until very recently, seen his unserious side. Sweet, yes…and always there when you need him. But never, even in your countless daydreams and musings, did you think him one to carry you to your bed, and kiss you so lovingly wherever he could find a spot. At least not so quickly. He’s still doing it right now. Seungmin’s lips are tracing a line down your arm, of all places, and he keeps going until he gets to your fingers.

“Maybe I don’t know you as well I think I do. We’re both bad with our feelings, right?”

“Mm, but not right now”

No, not right now. Seungmin seems to have no trouble showing you his feelings right at this moment. His mouth moves to your hip, and you can feel his fingers tug at the string on your shorts. Your heart pounds, and you’re afraid of him noticing how fucked up your breathing is. It’s taking a lot of effort to keep calm. You want this, you want him. You absolutely want him. So why can’t you let yourself have him?

“It’s alright,” he looks up at you from your hip and smiles. “Take a nice big breath.”

He can tell—he knows. Just like last time, only last time you told him you were nervous when you were actually terrified. Now it’s just nerves, and you can get yourself through it. You do what he says, and you take a deep breath. Exhale slowly.

“Maybe if you tell me. Why am I making you nervous? And don’t tell me I’m perfect.”

“I’m just…out of practice." It's kind of a lie, but you stick with it. You can't give him the same stupid answers again.

“Me too, maybe we’re a little even”

He moves slowly, lifting your shirt just enough to find more skin to kiss.

“You are? So you’re not…you have had sex?”

His eyes seem to grow twice as big as he looks at you, “no…no I guess I said that wrong. This is my first time.”

“Good to know”

“I’m sorry”

“I’m not”

You feel his fingers hook beneath your shorts, but he doesn’t pull yet, “is this okay?”

They’re off as soon as you lift your hips for him—your heart somehow beats even faster, and the dark of the room presses so hard against your eyes, you feel like you’re blind. But you feel him, so close, not the least bit shy as he moves his lips across more new skin. So close that you think he might close his mouth around your cunt. You want him to because you readied yourself for anything the night might bring, and you’re aching for his touch. Any part of him.

His lips press softly against your clit, and he opens up just enough to lick before continuing upward. You hear his faint giggle when you can’t hold back a moan, and when you peek again, he’s getting out of his sweats and back between your legs. Dick in hand, slow, lazy strokes as he stares down, and his free hand pushes your thighs further apart.

Everything from this point on happens so fast.

Seungmin is there again, kissing, eyes open and watching you, maybe for some sort of protest or hesitation. He’s used to getting stopped now, but you’re not doing that again. You’re well past that point. It’s the furthest thing from your mind.

The heat of his cock is on you, sliding down, and then up across your clit. Seungmin still watches, but lowers himself until his forehead touches yours. And then the pressure of him pushing in sends you further up into the pillow.

“Sorry…sorry” he pulls back and lifts himself up. “I’ll slow down.”

“You’re okay, Min. We might need some extra help.” You’re wet, you can feel it, and you can feel yourself continue to get more and more hungry for him. “Try it from up there.”

He nods and pulls you down by your hips until your thighs lay over his, “do you like this position? On your back?”

“Yeah, it’s a good start…considering”

Seungmin’s sigh is a little dramatic, very cute, and manages to relax you a little. He’s looking down at himself, but his hand is exploring you. His finger slides over your clit and moves down, slowly, feeling how wet you are.

“What’s that sigh for?” You catch his eyes as your legs squeeze him a little, and it seems to get him back in the moment. He’s pressing into you again, and this time, he slides in a little.

“I was afraid…” he stops and waits a few seconds before pushing in further, “we’d have trouble.”

“We’ll be okay”

“Aah…yeah,” his breath hitches as he goes, and he slides in with such ease he has to stop himself.

“Fuck…Minnie”

“Too much?”

“No no it’s good.” Your breathing steadies, and you savor the feeling of him finally inside of you—the stretch, almost too much, but not. The pain dulls a little as he pulls out, and all of the slick arousal clinging to him helps him slide back in so smoothly. It’s so much softer, and more mind numbingly good than you thought it would be. “Didn’t need extra help”

Seungmin’s face relaxes, but his eyes look down at you like they’ve never looked at you before.

“Is it good, Minnie?”

No, he has looked at you like this before—when you pulled away from your first kiss. It feels the same. Warm and comfortable. In, then out, and in so slowly you know it has to be driving him crazy. Still, he’s quiet.

“Tell me”

He nods and comes down on his palms. Finally, his face gives you an answer, and you can reach up to touch his cheek.

“Mm, yes yes,” he nods again, moans, and moves his face against your palm, “you’re so…“ another moan escapes mid-thought, and he’s lost again, but still careful as he pumps in and out of you. Careful for you, or careful for himself, you’re not sure, but it’s good—his speed and depth aren’t hurting you, not yet.

“More,” you take his hips in your hands and guide him in deeper, “faster…a little faster.”

He follows your touch and slowly speeds up, but taking all of him hurts, so you push your palms against his stomach to hold him back.

“Good?” His eyes move along your lips and neck, and he comes down to kiss the skin on your chest he can get to.

The shallow, shaky breaths hitting you as he moves back up makes you think he might be getting close.

“Slow”

“Slow,” he whispers and kisses your ear.

The smooth, delicate roll of his hips as he finds his new pace; the tickle of his lips on your ear; his low, relaxed groan. Everything is perfect. And it’s him—it’s Minnie. Tonight is not a forgettable date you won’t talk to again. It’s not a shitty one night stand you put up with because you needed to come, and you needed to scream his name in your head while you did it. You finally have him in your arms.

“Hey, look at me”

He’s busy kissing along your jaw, but eventually, he listens. “Hi, hi…I’m looking.”

“That’s better”

The pace picks up, just enough. This closeness is all that matters for you, and the feeling of him gives you plenty of pleasure—this is all for him, though.

There’s a heady look in his eyes, he licks his lips, his breath stutters. His fingers clench the sheets and his elbow hits the bed as he tries to keep himself steady.

“Good…come for me Minnie.”

Seungmin isn’t being too shy about making noises, thank god. He’s not loud, but you can hear how good he feels, and that’s all you need. But when he comes, you know it. His eyes get glassy and big, his mouth hangs open. The moan trickling out of him rises until it turns into a satisfied cry. His orgasm is intense, and you can feel his cock twitch and pulse as he empties himself inside of you, bites his lip and smiles, and somehow, manages to keep his eyes on yours the entire time.

Then it's quiet. Just out of sync, shakey breaths—yours and his, and the ghostly sound of the music sneaking in from the living room.

“Oh…oh,” he can’t hold back his giddy, post-orgasm giggle.

“Yeah?” you pull him down for a kiss, and hope he does that every time.

“That was fast, I’m sorry”

You have to grab his face to keep his eyes from wandering now, “but how was it?”

Very gently, he brings himself down on top of you. “…you feel so good, so warm and,” tucks his arms around you and holds tight, “perfect.”

The satisfaction in his voice, and the sweet, dizzy way he says it warms you all over, gives you butterflies. It makes you feel stupid and in love. Right now you think you might be able to deal with whatever gets in the way of you and Minnie, including yourself. Especially yourself. You're high on him again, and you don't think you could go without anymore.

“That’s all that matters right now, then.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

The steady sounds of his breathing make you believe he’s asleep, and he should be. Seungmin said he hasn’t been sleeping very well lately, and now he’s worked hard getting you through this first time, for both of you. You’re still a little taken back by his gentle nature and patience, but that’s probably because most of the men you sleep with are nothing like that—not even close.

Seungmin didn’t like the idea of you not coming, but you eventually got him to relax, and now you’re here. And he’s fast asleep. And everything feels okay for the moment.

You lie down and face him; admire him again. This is the first time you’ve been able to really look at his face with no interruption—no food being stuffed in his mouth, no talking a mile an hour. This time you’re completely sober, and wide awake. His hair is still a little damp from sweat and clinging to his brow, lips are soft and pouty, cheeks are so round, and you long to run a finger across them, but you don’t want to wake him.

And very slowly, his eyes flutter open. He stares at you for a long moment while his lips turn up into a smile. “Hi.”

You suspect he wasn’t sleeping at all.

“Go back to sleep.” Now you take the opportunity to run your thumb across his cheek, then his chin, and you can feel the faintest scratch of stubble.

“I felt you staring at me”

“Sorry”

In place of a reply, you get a kiss.

“It’s hard not to look at you”

Seungmin shakes his head and wrinkles his nose, “no, I’m a sweaty mess right now.”

“I like your little afterglow.”

“I have an afterglow?”

Yes, ruddy cheeks and a smile that he can’t put down, eyes bigger and darker than usual, “you do.” And there’s the shape of his naked body underneath your sheet. The stretch of his shoulder blades, the delicate dip of his lower back rises just slightly over a tiny curve of ass. Not much, but enough to grab. He notices your eyes taking in every inch of him, and when you clench the sheet to pull, Seungmin suddenly gets very shy.

"Heeey," he giggles, but rolls until it wraps around him. Now he's trapped in there. "It feels different when you're not blinded by the...horniness." Seungmin sets his head back down on the pillow and looks at you.

"I understand. You were probably running off half of your blood supply with that erection."

"I’m not that big!" His face is shoved into the pillow, so it's just a mumble, but you understand what he says. "I mean, you were okay, right?" One eye peeks out.

You nod at him, because you're not going to tell him right now that he's going to take some getting used to.

"That's why I ran off to the bathroom earlier."

"Checking your size?"

"No!" He pushes himself up on his elbows, and his stupid grin and narrowed eyes are so animated and distinctly him. His laugh is enough to recharge you. "I was nervous. I just went in there to calm myself, and see what was going on...down there, I guess. It doesn't always cooperate when I want it to."

"I see. I'm glad everything worked tonight. I'm pretty sure it's worked everytime you've come over, though."

"Oh, you noticed?"

"Yeah yeah, it was really hard to stop at your thigh the first night you came over. But you can't hide that."

“That doesn’t usually happen, but, ya know…”

“Was I really your first?”

He nods, but thinks for a few moments. There’s nothing he needs to explain to you—it doesn’t matter that much—but you are interested in anything he has to tell you about himself.

“Going that far? Yes. I’ve had a few other encounters that didn’t go anywhere, or if they did they were kind of awkward. But this was not like that.”

“Good”

His eyes very obviously look you up and down, and he stops right at your core. “So can we keep going?”

“What would you like to do, Minnie?”

“I just wanna touch you, make you feel good.” Seungmin doesn’t wait for an answer before he moves close and wraps an arm around you. “Can I do that?”

The soft squeeze of his hand on your hip gets you going again—a warm throb in your stomach, your clit. “Yes, please.” Between your legs is still the mess the two of you made. You can feel his come dripping out of you, and when his finger slides down and gently pushes into your entrance, you feel yourself gush even more. Seungmin groans and sucks at the skin of your neck, then his thumb pushes up and slides right over your clit.

“Did I get it?” he asks when you whine in his ear, laughs. He does it again; rubs in soft little circles; pushes in and out, finding a good spot with his nimble fingers. “Tell me what you like.”

“I like—”

Seungmin looks at you so sharply. He needs to know exactly what you want, and he doesn’t need much direction, but you still slide your hand down and place it over his.

“I like you touching me”

He pulls out and slides two wet fingers between your folds, so slowly until he gets to your clit again. Your hips jump, and he smiles.

“You like this, right here…” he moves his fingers carefully, watching your face and listening to every little sound you make. “Nice and slow and light,” he sings. Seungmin isn’t asking, he’s just figuring it out as he goes.

It’s cute and it’s sexy; the way he is, and the way he talks to you. The combination is so deadly, and it’s one of the reason why he makes you feel the way he does.

Before everything, even the very first time you met him, you could tell he was special—not just the most beautiful face in a room full of beautiful faces. The way he looked at you, and the way he listened when you spoke. When you’d talk on the phone, go out for lunch, he always found a way to put you first and make you feel like the only person in the world.

“Yeah,” it comes out on your breath, “right there.”

You grip his forearm, but he doesn’t change a thing. Same speed, same pressure. And he adjusts as your hips roll into his hand. You’re going to come fast, too, just like he did. It’s already rising as you look at him, and looking at him is making it so much more. You’re not using a picture on your phone, or the photos pinned to the wall, and you're not listening to the cute voice messages he's left for you in the past—he’s right here, warm breath moving across your face, the sweet, sharp smell of his sweat, and just as you feel like you’re going to explode, his lips are on yours and your moan fills him up.

Your grip moves from his arm to his shoulder, then to his neck as he deepens the kiss. At the same time, a perfect, intense orgasm shakes you. His fingers move until you relax and let your hips fall back on the bed. Only then does he slow down, then stop.

“Seungmin”

You’re out of breath, and he’s still kissing.

“Minnie…Minnie, I need to catch my breath.”

He pulls back, looks at you, “sorry,” then kisses everywhere except your mouth. “How’s your lip?”

The pain in your lip eventually faded, and you forgot about it. It’s back now, throbbing away. “It’s okay…how does it look?”

“It’s a little swollen. More ice should help, I can get you some.”

“No, stay here with me”

“How about a bath, to clean up?” He looks down at the space between your legs. “We made a mess.”

“Only if you join me”

“Okay, I like my baths very hot, though”

“Yeah, me too”