#i LOVE dressing up to go and sit in an empty screening for two hours it's so much fun

[janitorhutcherson]

Bf!Futturman Headcanons (Future Man)

there is NOT enough future man content! allow @dollfacedalls and i to fix that :p these r some headcanons we came up with real quick. if there are typos, sorry guys lolz. its 3am and i just typed this up bc i felt like we needed some josh futturman content. enjoy the sweaty loser boyfriend vibes!

Bf!Futturman who tries to be flirty and sexy but is unsuccessful. You've been out all day, and you've just gotten home. The moment you walk through the door, Josh is in front of you in a pair of dinosaur boxers with a huge, cheesy smile. You know why, and you know what he's wanting. You can't help but grin like an idiot as you put your bags down, walking towards him to place your hands on his hips. Before you can do so, Josh attempts to lean against the coffee table in a sexy fashion. Of course, as expected, he loses his balance, his feet falling out from under you. He lets out a yelp as his elbow hits the coffee table, your eyes wide as you run to assist him. "Baby," you gasp as you kneel. "Are you okay?" you mumble as he repositions himself, now leaning on his hurt elbow on his side, the toothy grin back on his face. "Yeah.. fine now that you're here, sexy," he says, wiggling his eyebrows as you roll your eyes, hitting his shoulder.

Bf!Futturman who is so clingy that he misses you so much, making him even want to be you. You two live together, Josh finally having moved out of his childhood home to get an apartment with you. You were at work, and Josh was upset. He felt like his other half was missing. It wasn't fair that he was off and you weren't. So.. naturally, he did what any man who was missing his partner would do -- he tried on your clothes, sprayed himself in your perfume, listened to your favorite songs, and watched your favorite TV show. When you walked into your apartment to him sitting on the couch in your dress, the apparent scent of your cherry-scented perfume in the air, Dance Moms on the TV, you gasped. The moment his eyes locked with yours, Josh froze, his eyes wide, not really sure what to say. Your eyes darted to the empty bottle on the table; your lonely boyfriend had drained your expensive perfume. Josh's eyes followed yours to the bottle as he shot up, walking over to you with raised eyebrows. "I swear, baby, I- I'll buy you a new bottle," he awkwardly muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. 

Bf!Futturman who wants an ugly cat with you. No, not just a cat, but an ugly one. He wanted to find the most hideous, rattiest, mangy-looking cat the two of you could find. At first, you were somewhat frustrated with how adamant he was about the situation. You would've been much happier with a fluffy kitten with pretty blue eyes and soft fur. But no, you loved your boyfriend so much you'd given in. Josh convinced you he wanted one because 'nobody wants the ugly ones.' He claimed it was an action from the goodness of his heart, an action to save a poor kitty. He never would've said it out loud, but the reality was he didn't think the name Barthalomeow fit a pretty kitten. You ended up with a fluffy cat with huge brown eyes bulging from its skull. Its bottom teeth hung out of its mouth, and its brown fur stuck up in every which way... Yeah... it was hideous for sure, but Bathalomeow loved you and his kitty dad so that you couldn't be too mad.

Bf!Futturman gets so sucked into his game that he doesn't notice anything around him. When you weren't around, and he wasn't working, Josh did NOTHING but play Biotic Wars. He'd be so sucked into the game for hours, going to disgusting extremes to avoid having to press pause. When you were home, though, he'd only dedicate an hour or two a day to the game. This usually didn't bother you, but one particular day, you were feeling incredibly desperate for his attention, his eyes locked onto his TV screen as his fingers moved stealthily across his keyboard. You felt like you'd attempted everything. At first, you just tried his name. No luck. Then, you tried tapping his shoulder. Barely flinched. Your next action was more severe, seeing if your words would stir anything in him. "Baby," you called out, your annoyance apparent. "Hm?" he hummed with a half-assed response. "I'm going to my other man's house in a few. Is that cool?" you said from behind him, sprawled out on the bed with your eyebrows raised, your eyes throwing daggers toward the back of his head. "Yeah, whatever, babe, I'll see you later," he mumbled quickly as a loud groan left your lips. "Jesus christ," you mumbled. "Gonna jump off of a bridge, Joshy," you sang out jokingly, to which Josh responded, "Okay, baby." It felt hopeless, that was, until you had an idea. You threw your shirt off, your bare chest exposed as you pranced over to him, standing in front of him. Josh glanced over at you for a moment, his eyes widening slightly as he reached his hand up to grasp your boob before looking back to his screen. "Mm, give me another hour," he hummed, his attention once again back on Future Man. Nope, didn't work. You'd revisit in an hour when you were his girlfriend again, and it wasn't his controller getting all of the hand action.

Bf!Futturman that attempts to cook for you. Josh could not cook. This was a given considering in order to cook, you had to have good coordination and be able to somewhat follow directions. Unless in video game form, it was difficult for Josh to do both. You didn't mind, enjoying making dinner and snacks for the two of you. It wasn't until one night Josh wanted to surprise you. He'd watched a YouTube video online on how to make a baked chicken with broccoli, mashed potatoes, along with a few other things. He didn't think twice about the difficulty, already feeling like a chef as he turned off his phone. He was soon proven very wrong, as about an hour later, you walked into the door to the smell of burning meat and smoke filling your kitchen. Josh stood in the center of it all, surrounded by far too many pans for him to be making such a simple dish, many of them filled with what looked like pure charcoal. He looked at you with sad eyes, a pout on his lips. "I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean to make a mess. I really just wanted to do something nice for you like you do for me," he said softly as he walked over to you. You embraced him into your arms, pressing a kiss to his head. "Hey, 's okay baby, we can just order takeout," you giggled, deciding to turn the oven off and leave the mess for another time. 

Bf!Futturman who has no filter and lacks an understanding of time and place. The two of you were inside an art museum. You pulled out your phone to snap a cute selfie. The moment he saw the camera, he pulled you close, stiffening his entire body as he stared into the camera with a blank expression. You snapped the picture, reviewing it afterward as your smile dropped. "Seriously, Josh?" you asked as you raised your eyebrows, showing him the photo where he looked both uninterested and terrified all at once. He snickered with amusement, his nose scrunching up. "God, people are going to think I kidnapped you," you muttered under your breath. He nudged you with his shoulder, raising his eyebrows up and down. "That's because you did!" he exclaimed as he pretended to yank out of your grip. People began to stare, and Josh just snickered as you smacked his shoulder. "Shut up, Futturman!" you gritted through your teeth, rolling your eyes. God, you loved him, but oh, how he pissed you off sometimes.

[lovelaceisntdead]

Decided I will not get it cut she's just going to do my roots so that will make me feel better.

OKAY I'm supposed to be getting my haircut on monday but I'm thinking. I skip it.

[scary-grace]

the crying game - a shigaraki x f!reader oneshot

You gave up on love a long time ago, but you keep getting invited to weddings, and after eleven receptions spent at the single's table, you're almost at the end of your rope -- until first-time wedding guest Shigaraki Tomura asks you to show him how it's done. (5.7k words, modern AU, no quirks.)

This fic is for @arslansenkai, who saw my milestone post and requested the prompts ‘holding hands’ + ‘listening to the other’s heartbeat’ + ‘whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin’ from this list. Thank you so much for the prompt! I really enjoyed writing it and I swear all three of your prompts made it in here or there.

You hate weddings. You don’t remember when you started hating them, but you know why you started – right around the time when you realized that you’d never have another one of your own, that you’d always be attending someone else’s, and doing that all by yourself, too. Add in the cost of a new dress and new shoes (God forbid you wear the same thing twice in one year) and travel accommodations and a wedding present, and weddings become a big, expensive, depressing waste of a weekend. No matter how much you like the people who are getting married.

And you do like them, this time, even though they’re the twelfth couple from your department at Ultra, Inc. to get married in the last three years. Ochako and Himiko are the kind of couple who shouldn’t make sense, but somehow do – the kind of against-all-odds couple who’d make you believe in love if you didn’t know better. You were rooting for them, you’re glad they’re together, and getting their save-the-date still made you want to drown yourself in the toilet. You opted to drown in vodka instead. You need help.

You need help, and you’re going to get it. After this wedding. So you can figure out how to say no the next time you get an invite. Because out of all the indignities about going single to a wedding, getting stuck at the same table at the wedding reception as the other people who couldn’t snare a date is possibly the worst.

Most couples have at least a few single friends, but Himiko and Ochako are the last of their respective circles to couple up. Or almost-last. The singles table at their wedding included exactly five people at the start of the reception. You, an older woman named Magne, a guy your age whose place-card says Todoroki Touya but insisted that he goes by Dabi, another guy your age whose place-card says Takami Keigo but insisted you call him Hawks, and one more guy your age whose place-card says Shigaraki Tomura and who barely looked up when you introduced yourself.

It wasn’t the worst singles table you’d ever sat at, at the start. Then Magne bailed to sit with somebody she knew at a different table, and Dabi and Hawks hit it off and then snuck off to God knows where, and then it was just you and Shigaraki sitting at your table in the far back corner of the reception hall. That’s how it’s been for an hour, and the only interaction the two of you have had is when you’ve passed the table’s bottle of champagne back and forth, filling your glasses and then draining them out of sync. It’s depressing. After going to eleven weddings in two years, you can hang in there with the best of them, but you’re pretty sure you’re about to crack.

Your glass is empty, and when you reach for the bottle, you find that it’s empty, too. You want to get more, but you’re not going to look like a lush in front of your weird tablemate. “Hey,” you say, and Shigaraki looks up from the screen of his Switch. “This is empty. I’ll go get more if you want it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Shigaraki says. You raise your eyebrows. “This will suck just as bad whether I’m wasted or not.”

“Yeah,” you admit. “But then you’ll be able to pretend it sucks because you’re wasted, not because you’re stuck at the singles table yet again.”

“Yet again? Sounds like you’re projecting,” Shigaraki says. You shrug. It would hurt more if you hadn’t heard the same thing from at least one person at the last three weddings you went to – usually towards the end of the reception, usually when everybody’s getting weepy and ridiculous. You’re ahead of schedule this time. “Sure. I’ll take more.”

Two tables over, a group of happy couples have abandoned their champagne bucket in favor of the dance floor – or the photo booth, or something. You swap your empty bottle for their full one and come back over, hoping Shigaraki will have gone back to his game and forgotten you existed. No such luck. He’s sitting up, watching you, as you sit down, fill your glass, and slide the bottle back across the table to Shigaraki. “Yet again,” he repeats. You down half your glass in a single swallow. “I’m only halfway through the first one of these stupid things I’ve been to and I’m already done. How many times have you put yourself through it?”

“Eleven,” you say. Shigaraki’s red eyes widen. “No, that’s just people from work. If I count friends from school, it’s, uh – sixteen.”

“If you’re this miserable, stop going.”

“Is that what you do?” you challenge. “When your friends invite you to celebrate the happiest day of their lives, you just don’t go?”

“My friends know better than to invite me to shit like this.” Shigaraki copies you and drains half his glass in one go. “I wouldn’t have come to this one, except Toga critical-hit me with this guilt trip about how we’re her family and she needs her family to be here –”

You did notice a conspicuous lack of parents or relatives on Toga’s side of the aisle. “And I said I’d go if I didn’t have to go alone,” Shigaraki continues. “Dabi was supposed to be doing time with me. Figures he’d score a hookup and bolt.”

“I didn’t know you knew each other,” you say. They barely talked when Dabi was sitting here. “How do you know Himiko?”

“Juvie,” Shigaraki says, and you’re not sober enough to keep the surprise from showing all over your face. He snickers. “Not what you expected?”

You shake your head. “Is that where you know Dabi from?”

“And Spinner,” Shigaraki says, pointing out a purple-haired guy at a different table. “And Twice. Magne was a peer counselor or something. If I hadn’t met them I probably would have killed myself in there.”

You can’t stop your surprise from showing this time, either. Shigaraki grimaces. “Don’t read into that.”

“No promises,” you say. Shigaraki snorts and lifts his glass partway, then drains it. “So you’ve known each other for a while.”

“Yeah. I’m guessing you’re friends with the girlfriend. Wife.” Shigaraki refills his glass again, but leaves it alone for the time being. “How long have you known her?”

“Work,” you say, then facepalm. You’re lucky you manage to do it with the hand not holding your glass of champagne. “Two years or so. I already worked there when she was hired. I kind of watched the whole thing with Himiko from the sidelines.”

That’s how you always watch relationships play out at work, or anywhere, really. Pretending to be happy, really being happy, and still feeling like you’re pulling a tarp over the sinkhole in your chest. “So the wife invited you and you showed up even though you knew you’d hate it,” Shigaraki concludes. “You’re crazier than me. I’m never going to another one of these things again.”

“Not even your own?”

“Do I look like the kind of person somebody marries?” Shigaraki finishes his whole glass in a single swallow. You were thinking about trying to keep up with him, but if you try that, you’ll throw up all over the dress you had to buy, which is probably dry-clean only or something worse. “I don’t get why anyone goes to these things.”

“They’re supposed to be fun,” you say. You feel bad picking on Ochako’s wedding. It’s not Ochako’s fault that you’re single, bitter about it, and this close to drunk on alcohol she paid for. “But they’re usually only fun if you go with someone.”

“I went with somebody. He ditched me to hook up with a guy who named himself after a bird.”

You snicker at that. “I meant a date,” you clarify. “If your date ditches you to hook up, then you’ve got bigger problems than whether you’re having fun at a wedding.”

“He’s not my date. I’m not gay.” Shigaraki looks up. “Did you think I was gay?”

“I really didn’t – think,” you admit. You didn’t come to the wedding looking for a hookup. If you had, you’d have tried to put a move on Hawks before Dabi could. “The activities are more fun with a date.”

“Activities?” Shigaraki asks. “Like games?”

“Uh, sometimes,” you say. You know Ochako set up lawn games outside, and the sun won’t set for a while. “Sometimes there’s an art project you’re supposed to do for the couple, as a keepsake or something. I went to one last year where you were supposed to write a good wish, fold it into a paper crane, and then hang it off a branch of this tree they’d bought.”

“Too much work. What else?”

“Dancing,” you say, although you felt like that was pretty obvious. “And Himiko and Ochako have a photo booth.”

Shigaraki’s nose wrinkles. “Why?”

“As a keepsake for the guests, I guess,” you say. “Again. More of a couple thing.”

“Huh.” Shigaraki pours half a glass this time but still finishes it in one swallow. Then he stands up. “Let’s do it.”

You freeze in the act of pouring yourself another glass. “What?”

“I’m never coming to another wedding. You’re bored and drunk –”

“I’m not the one who’s been treating glasses like shots.”

“So let’s do it,” Shigaraki says, like you didn’t say a word. “If this is the last one I go to, I want to get my money’s worth. Do you have something better to do?”

You were this close to taking out your phone and opening up Tinder. You shake your head. “Finish that,” Shigaraki says, and you finish the half-glass you just poured and get to your feet. “Where’s the stupid photo booth?”

You lead the way. Even in heels, you’re faster than Shigaraki – he’s meandering a little bit, possibly due to all the champagne. You reach out and grab his hand to pull him back on course. He jumps, stumbles into an empty table, and glares at you. “What are you doing?”

“You wanted the wedding date experience. Holding hands is included.” At least you think it should be. If you had a real date you’d want to hold hands with them. Shigaraki follows you a little more closely than before as you make your way up to the photo booth. “It looks like they have props. Should we use them?”

Shigaraki hasn’t let go of your hand. He picks up a fake mustache on a stick. “Who would use this?”

“Me, maybe?” If you had a wedding date, you’d want to be spontaneous and fun. You lift it out of his hand and hold it up to your face. “What do you think?”

“No.” Shigaraki takes it away, puts it back, and picks up a flower crown. “Here.”

“No, that’s for you,” you say. Shigaraki argues, but you pluck it out of his hand and settle it on his head anyway. “See? It looks great.”

“If Dabi sees me wearing this stupid thing –”

“He’ll be jealous,” you say. The crown would look stupid on Dabi’s spiky black hair, but the pastel shades of the flowers look nice with Shigaraki’s blue-grey hair. “Okay. Now you can pick one for me. I’ll even do the mustache.”

“No,” Shigaraki says again. He sorts through the props and comes up with a headband with bunny ears. “This one.”

You two are going to look ridiculous. It’s hard not to laugh, and you haven’t even seen the full effect yet. You put on the headband, thankful that you went for a low-effort hairstyle that’s easy to fix, then pull the curtain on the photo booth and wedge yourself into it. Shigaraki follows you in.

It’s a really tight fit. You were pretty sure the photo booth was a couple activity, but now you’re sure – you love your friends, but you wouldn’t want to end up most of the way into any of their laps. You have to stop holding hands to try to get situated, and while you’re still trying to figure yourselves out, the photo booth takes the first picture. Shigaraki grimaces. “Wait. That probably looked stupid. Where –”

The booth takes the second picture while he’s talking, and you snort. There’s about a ten-second interval to get positioned correctly. You manage to face front in time, but your elbow lands on Shigaraki’s thigh as you’re trying to steady yourself, and he flinches away. You drop out of the frame as the booth snaps the third photo, and it occurs to you that the only part of you visible in the picture will be the bunny ears. Based on the location of the ears in relation to Shigaraki’s body, it’s going to look pretty compromising. You hope no one sees that picture. Ever.

Shigaraki’s snickering as you sit up. “Nice one. I want a copy of – hey!”

You’ve elbowed him on purpose this time, just in time for the fourth photo. The fifth photo’s probably going to be blurry. You’re both lightly shoving each other, trying to get each other out of your personal space without pushing either of you out of the photo booth itself. The sixth photo’s probably the only one that’s worth anything, and it won’t be very good, either – Shigaraki’s flower crown is off-kilter, and you’re pretty sure your headband’s falling off. The printer begins to whir, and the two of you sit in silence as the booth prints out two sets of photos. You pick one up. Shigaraki takes the other. A second later, you’re both laughing.

The photos look even worse than you thought, and somehow that makes them better. The photo where it’s just your ears in the frame features Shigaraki staring down into his lap, looking all kinds of startled, while the photo where you’re pushing each other is blurry enough to be a still from a found-footage horror movie. In your opinion, the first photo is the funniest. “We look like that meme with the cat,” you wheeze. “The one with the loading circle over its head.”

“The last one looks like a mug shot,” Shigaraki says, his laughter so raspy that it borders on a witch’s cackle. “After a bar fight –”

The idea of getting in a bar fight in your wedding outfit sets you off. You slump sideways at an angle and end up with your head against his chest for a few seconds, surprised that you can hear his heartbeat and surprised at how fast it’s beating. “Which of us won?”

“We both lost,” Shigaraki says, and you laugh harder. The two of you look disheveled as hell, and not from anything fun. “Number two is the worst one. You look good and I look like a dumbass.”

“You just had your mouth open,” you say, wiping your eyes. You’re probably smearing your makeup, but who gives a shit. You didn’t do that good of a job on it anyway. “Anyway, that’s the wedding photo booth experience. What do you think?”

“I want to go again,” Shigaraki says. This time, you manage to turn to stare at him without throwing any elbows. “For good ones. No way do people’s girlfriends let them leave with just the stupid ones.”

You would, but then again, there’s not a big enough difference between how you look in bad photos and how you look in good ones for it to matter. “We can do one more,” you agree. “Let’s lose the props.”

Without the flower crown and bunny ears, the silliness factor drops significantly. Now you look less like a couple of drunk clowns pretending to be a couple and more like two people who could actually be together. It weirds you out, but you promised the whole wedding date experience. In the seconds before the first flash goes off, you tilt your head onto Shigaraki’s shoulder.

Shigaraki startles, and as soon as the flash goes off, he pushes you away – but only so he can tilt sideways. He’s taller than you, enough so his cheek rests against the top of your head. Four photos left. When you glances over at Shigaraki, you see that his tie’s crooked, so you fix it for him, burning another photo in the bargain. The fourth photo is Shigaraki shifting the neckline of your dress to cover your bra strap, which is weird but plausible for a couple’s photo booth experience. He has a birthmark just below the right corner of his mouth. You aim for it when you kiss his cheek quickly for the fifth photo.

Shigaraki startles again, and you sit back – but not too far. You’re still close enough that Shigaraki only has to lean forward a few inches for his lips to meet yours.

You weren’t planning to kiss him. It’s not much of a kiss, and it doesn’t last long, but your heart is still racing as the booth spits out your second sheet of photos. You’re almost scared to look. Shigaraki’s hesitant, too, and when you both flip the sheets over to check, he says exactly what you’re thinking. “Shit.”

The first set of photos were a joke. The second set – either you and Shigaraki are really good actors or you’re both really drunk, because they look way too plausible for comfort. The ones where you’re fussing over each other’s clothes are probably the worst offenders on that front, but you’re most alarmed by the last two. You’re smiling as you kiss his cheek. You can see the corner of your mouth turned up. And you didn’t see where Shigaraki’s hand was when he kissed you, but the photo’s preserved the evidence. It’s right by the side of your face, curved like he wants to cradle your jaw in his hand.

Exactly sixty seconds ago, the two of you were screwing around in here. Now it feels like there’s static running back and forth between you, and you scramble out of the booth in a hurry, almost tripping over your feet. Shigaraki gets out, too, leaning against the booth to steady himself. Without a word, he takes both of your sets of photos and tucks them into his suit jacket along with his sets, then fills your suddenly-empty hand with his own. “Now what?”

The static shock is between your hands now. “My hand is humming,” you say, like an idiot, and Shigaraki tightens his grip. “Um, I think there are some games outside.”

“Fine.”

It’s warm outside, but getting cooler as the sun begins to set. There are a lot of games, and most of them are being ignored in favor of a bunch of the goofiest guys from your office playing cornhole while their girlfriends/boyfriends watch. You determine instantly that you’re not coordinated enough for anything that involves throwing something, which leaves you exactly one option. “How about that one?”

“Jenga?”

“Jenga XL,” you say. Shigaraki snorts. “My hand-eye coordination’s too bad right now for a throwing game. This will be safer.”

Whoever was playing the oversized Jenga last left the blocks in a heap. You and Shigaraki can’t hold hands while you stack them up, and as you do, your assumption that Jenga would be safer than something else gets tested in the most embarrassing way possible – and of course Shigaraki points it out. “You’re short. If this thing falls on you it’ll flatten you.”

“It won’t fall,” you say with more confidence than you feel. “I’m good at this.”

“Go first, then, if you’re so good at it.”

You get a block out without trouble, but you have to rely on Shigaraki to re-stack it for you, which he does, wearing a really frustrating smirk. “You should have worn taller shoes.”

“I can’t walk in taller shoes,” you say. “Or dance. Are you going to want to dance?”

“If it’s part of the wedding date experience, yeah.” Shigaraki carefully extracts his block and sets it on top of the tower. He’s not all that much taller than you. If the game goes on long enough, he’ll have trouble re-stacking. “They don’t exactly teach dance classes in juvie.”

“It’s not that kind of dancing,” you say. Shigaraki looks relieved. “If it’s going to be that kind of dancing, they warn you on the invitation. A friend of mine who got married last year only played swing music at her reception. She sent out a certificate for free lessons with her save-the-date.”

“Control issues?”

“I think she just wanted stuff her way,” you say. You ease another block out of the tower and hand it over to Shigaraki. “Hers was nice. Everything ran on time, and she sent out thank-you notes six weeks after the wedding.”

Shigaraki stacks your block, then pulls out one of his own. You realize with a jolt that he’s missing the index and middle fingers from his left hand. “What’s the worst one you’ve ever been to?”

“Um.” You don’t want to say this. You really don’t – but you drank too much, and you should be honest. “Mine.”

“You’re married?”

“Divorced,” you say. “Three months after the wedding. I didn’t have the ring on long enough to get a tan line.”

Shigaraki doesn’t say anything. The tower is getting unstable, so you’re careful as you wiggle out one of the side blocks on a row about halfway up. You keep an eye on Shigaraki’s shadow as you do it, bracing yourself for him to walk away. Would you walk away if he told you he was divorced? No, but you’re divorced, so it matters less to you. “Three months,” Shigaraki repeats. “How’d that happen?”

“You’re lucky you aren’t asking me that six years ago,” you say. “With how much I drank tonight, I’d have gone off.”

“Go off. I want to hear it.” Shigaraki actually looks interested. “Anyone who fucks this up deserves it.”

He’s gestures at you. You don’t know what to make of that, and you’ve got a block halfway out of the tower. You go back to work on it. “How do you know it wasn’t me?”

“I know,” Shigaraki says. “How’d it happen?”

“This is pathetic,” you warn. Shigaraki gestures for you to go on. You sigh. “We were together since high school. Midway through college I got a bad feeling that we were drifting apart and I couldn’t take the suspense, so I tried to end it. And he popped the question. We got married six months later and three months after that he knocked up my cousin.”

“Damn,” Shigaraki remarks.

“They’re still together,” you say. “The kid’s in primary school this year. And every year around the holidays my aunt and my cousin pick a fight with me about how I need to be nicer to him, because we’re all a family now.”

You finally manage to extract the block, and Shigaraki takes it from you before you can offer it to him. You can’t read his expression, and just like when you sensed things with your ex were falling apart, you can’t take the suspense. “Pathetic?” you prompt.

“Your ex is a loser.”

“You haven’t seen what my cousin looks like.”

“He’s still a loser,” Shigaraki says. He pulls out a block. “I get it, though.”

Your stomach clenches. “What do you mean?”

“If my girlfriend was leaving me because I was dicking around, I might do something like that, too.” Shigaraki sets his block on top of the tower. Your options for blocks to pull are getting slimmer by the turn. “Popping the question. Not knocking up your cousin.”

“I have other cousins,” you say. Shigaraki snorts. “I thought you said you weren’t getting married.”

“I said nobody was going to marry me,” Shigaraki corrects. What’s the difference? “Your turn.”

You’re out of blocks at shoulder height. And chest height. And waist height. You crouch down instead, doing your best to balance in your heels, and start trying to wiggle a block loose on the fourth level up from the ground. Shigaraki’s voice follows you down. “If you were ready to ditch him, why did you say yes?”

Now you’re at a real risk of crying. Six years of intermittent only-when-you’ve-got-the-money counseling hasn’t made a dent in this one thing. You remind yourself that Shigaraki can’t see your face and work on keeping your voice steady. “I was the one who asked him out in the first place, back in high school. I always had this weird sense that we wouldn’t be together if I hadn’t. So when he proposed I thought it meant he was choosing me, like I chose him. Which was a stupid reason to say yes.”

You wanted to believe. You wanted to believe so badly that you were worth it, and now you’re divorced at twenty-eight, barely talking to the half of your family that took your cousin’s side, going on a grand total of one real date in the entire time since then that you got up and left partway through because you couldn’t fake hope or excitement for one second longer. The kiss you planted on Shigaraki in the photo both was the most action you’ve gotten in two years, and you’ve put more effort into the fake wedding-date experience than you have into even looking for a hookup. You’re pathetic. This is pathetic. You should be embarrassed, and you are.

But you got your stupid block out. You straighten up and hold it out to Shigaraki, who stacks it for you. You can’t read his expression, and you’re a little too dysregulated to be anything but blunt. “That’s my tragic backstory. What’s your damage?”

“What, going to juvie doesn’t count?” Shigaraki crouches down to pull a block from the opposite side of the same row you just weakened. He’s doing it right-handed; he’s waving his left with its missing fingers at you. “This doesn’t count? The fact that I don’t have eyebrows doesn’t count? Your problem is being a dumb kid with a shitty family and a shitty ex. My problem is that I exist. We’re not the same.”

He straightens up and drops his block on top of the tower. You can see that he’s tenser than before, and you can’t think of anything to say that won’t sound patronizing. “I didn’t notice about the eyebrows until you said something.”

“Great.” Shigaraki won’t look at you. “Your turn.”

You crouch down again. The row below the row Shigaraki just knocked down to one block seems like the safest bet. You start pulling at it, frustrated at the way it sticks. “Careful,” Shigaraki says after a second. “If you don’t watch out –”

The tower topples. You’re crouched down, with no chance of getting out of the way in time, and all you can do is sit there, stunned, while three dozen giant Jenga blocks crash down around your head. The corner of one catches your temple, digs in, and you flinch. But the blocks are light. You’re startled, and humiliated, and possibly bleeding a little bit, but you’re fine. “Are you okay?” Shigaraki asks. You give a thumbs-up, and he crouches down next to you. “I don’t believe you. You look – shit, your face is bleeding.”

“I’m good,” you say. “It’s a good thing we took pictures already. This is not part of the wedding-date experience.”

“I’m done with that,” Shigaraki says, and your heart sinks. Even though it shouldn’t. Even though none of this mattered to begin with, even though you know better, you hoped. You weren’t hoping for anything much – just to keep having fun, just to not spend the rest of the wedding alone. “You have a purse, right? Do you have napkins in there or something?”

“Your suit comes with a pocket square.” You pluck it out of his pocket and press it to your temple. “I’ll pay for cleaning it.”

“Don’t bother. It was my dad’s. He doesn’t have much use for it in solitary.”

Shigaraki helps you up while you’re still processing that one and tugs you away from the wreckage of the Jenga tower, onto a bench. The view of the sunset is really good from here. Further down the lawn, you can see Himiko and Ochako and their photographer doing a last round of pictures, and you slide your feet out of your shoes. It’s that point in the wedding. You’ll probably stay here for the rest of the night.

“Do you need ice?” Shigaraki asks. You shake your head. It doesn’t hurt, or maybe the fact that the sinkhole in your chest is eating the tarp you put over it just hurts more. “Do you still want to dance?”

“You said you were done with the wedding date thing.”

“Yeah. I’m done with the part where it’s fake.”

Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought you did. “What do you mean?”

“Seriously?” Shigaraki sounds annoyed. “I let you put a flower crown on me.”

“Is that some kind of mating ritual in juvie?” The instant you say it, you feel bad, but Shigaraki laughs. “If you’re trying to say something, say it. I don’t do very well with ambiguity on my best night and I’m still kind of drunk.”

“Same here. Otherwise I’d sit on this, and my friends would spend the rest of their lives listening to me bitch about how I didn’t ask out the girl from Toga’s wedding.” Shigaraki’s hand lifts from his lap, rises to his neck, then falls back. “I want to dance with you. Toga and her wife are having an after-party at their place, and I want you to come to it with me. And I want your number so we can hang out again sometime when we’re not wasted. Because I like you.”

You must have hit your head really hard. “We met three hours ago.”

“So? Toga said she knew she was going to marry the wife the first time they made eye contact,” Shigaraki says. That sounds like something Himiko would say. You’ve met her a few times at work parties and she’s always struck you as a little intense and a little off-the-wall. “Do you want to dance or not? Make up your mind.”

You want to say yes. What comes out is something really stupid, so stupid that you can’t look at him while you say it. “This is the kind of thing that happens to other people.”

“What, meeting somebody who asks you out?”

It sounds stupid when he says it like that. You keep his dad’s pocket square pressed to your temple and try to explain. “The whole thing where you meet somebody when you weren’t expecting to meet anybody and things click, at least on your end, and since you know it’s just on your end you try not to get your hopes up – but the other person tells you that it clicked for them, too –”

“That’s dumb.” Shigaraki doesn’t sound like he’s being mean. You could almost call it affectionate. “Forget who it happens to. I’m asking you out. Do you –”

Screw it. If this is some kind of hallucination, you want to enjoy it. If it’s real, you don’t want to miss out. You turn back to face Shigaraki. “Yes.”

He grins, and you notice a scar over his mouth, too. “Good. Now what?”

You think about kissing him. You decide to try hugging first, which involves getting at least as close to him as you did when you were in the photo booth, on purpose this time. Shigaraki isn’t particularly tall or bulky, but when you hug him, you’re surprised to notice that he’s hiding some muscle underneath his suit jacket. Kind of a lot of muscle. Huh. Shigaraki notices that you’re investigating a little bit. “What?” he asks, his mouth against your ear. “Did you think all I do is game?”

“I don’t know what you do all day,” you say. “We didn’t get to that part yet.”

“We will.” Shigaraki draws back from you, and you loosen your grip even as his hand rises to cradle your jaw. This time you see the kiss coming from a mile away, and this time, you lean in.

Everything’s different this time, except the thing that startles the two of you apart – the bright flash of a camera going off. “Tomura-kun!” Himiko squeals from somewhere nearby. “I told you you’d have fun at my wedding. Who is that? She’s so cute!”

For a second you’re worried Shigaraki doesn’t know your name, but he must have been paying more attention than you thought he was when you introduced yourself, because he introduces you to Toga without missing a beat. “She’s one of my coworkers,” Ochako explains, smiling at you. Even through the smile you can see the incredulity on her face, and you know you’ll be getting a lot of questions about this when she gets back from her honeymoon. “I’m so sorry we had to put you at that table. I wanted to put you with everybody from work, but they all had plus-ones –”

“It’s fine,” you say faintly. Himiko’s photographer takes another picture, this time of all four of you talking. “It worked out.”

“She’s coming to your party,” Shigaraki informs Himiko. “I invited her.”

“Oh, good!” Himiko turns her attention to you. “It’s going to be so fun! We have games and movies and we’re going to stay up all night.”

“You should come inside now,” Ochako says. “There are mosquitos out here, and we’re supposed to have cake soon –”

“And we’re going to do the Time Warp. I put that on the playlist for you special, Tomura-kun,” Himiko says. She glances at you. “It’s the only dance he knows.”

Shigaraki flushes, grimaces, but you tilt your head against his shoulder again, lacing his fingers with yours for the third time tonight. You don’t know what he does all day when he’s not at weddings he doesn’t want to go to. You don’t know if what he said about his dad being in solitary confinement was a joke or not. You don’t know what happened to his hand or where he got his scars, or even where his eyebrows went. But you know he likes you. You know you like him enough to give things a shot, at least for tonight, and that’s better than you’ve felt in a long time.

And you know he can dance, even if it’s only the Time Warp. For right now, you don’t need to know any more than that.

[sxfterhearts]

backstage visits

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ idol!jiung x non-idol!reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: fluff semi-inspired by love story, p1h (aka my fav p1h song!!) and a mini-continuation of neighbourly visits (but can be read as a standalone!)

♡ word count: 2,469 words

♡ summary: jiung's been acting weird and distant all week. but everything changes when you receive an mcountdown backstage pass in the mail...

♡ author’s note: hey guys! i've been thinking about this one for awhile. perhaps i should make it into a mini-series? pls let me know what you think (���◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

//

“She’s here, Jiung.”

“What?” Jiung gasped in shock. Turning to Jongseob, he asked urgently with firm hands grasping on his friends’ shoulders, “Where is she?”

“Dressing room 3, the one with the stage costumes.”

Jiung was about to run off, but turned around to quickly express his gratitude. “Thanks, man.”

Jongseob nodded with an understanding smile. “Don’t mess it up this time.”

Jiung shot him a nervous smile before disappearing into a blur of orange and white amongst the backstage hallways.

You were sitting on the couch in the middle of the quiet dressing room, eyes darting around nervously. You crossed, then uncrossed your legs a few times, uncertain.

You felt out of place. You’ve never attended a music show screening before, let alone been inside the building where the recordings took place. You were usually a self-assured, confident person, but striking, glittery costumes of all shapes, sizes and colours surrounded you, and you couldn’t help but to look down at your own clothes – just a normal t-shirt and jeans. Plain, like the rest of you.

Which is one of the reasons, if not the main reason, why you were so nervous right now. In the past few weeks since you visited Jiung in the hospital, you had undoubtedly gotten closer to your former-childhood neighbour-turned-popular K-Pop idol. You went over to their dorms a bunch of times to drop off food and side dishes that your mother sent for him, and took him out on gentle walks around the outskirts of Seoul. You even accompanied him and his mother for dinner when she came to visit him last weekend. 

But it was… for the lack of better words, getting a little bit confusing for you. On one hand, you knew that you two were clearly not together. Yet, on the other hand, it seemed to you like you were more than just friends. Which begs the question, what were you to him, exactly?

The past week since his mother’s visit had been odd. You understood that, as an idol, his schedule was hectic and unpredictable. However, when before he used to answer you within the hour, he started leaving more and more of your messages on read. It felt like you were talking to a wall. And the one time you did meet up for ice cream in the middle of the night after his dance practice, you could tell that his mind was elsewhere. It felt like he wasn’t even really there, and like he didn’t want to hang out with you, but was forced to.

That was on Wednesday. After gobbling up your ice cream, you made some stupid excuse about having to double-check something for work and left earlier than you anticipated. You initially thought that the two of you would take a stroll around the Han River, but given his state, you decided to just leave without another word.

Which was why, when you came home on Friday after work and found a ticket and backstage pass for MCountdown in your mailbox, you were stunned. You quickly searched up the show’s lineup, and sure enough, P1Harmony were performing on Sunday night. You weren’t entirely sure what it meant, and whether or not it was even a good idea to show up, but after talking to a few close friends about it, you made the decision to go. After all, what’s the worst that could happen, right? 

Which brings you to the current situation – phone lying idly by your side, teeth gnawing at your lips, and fingers fidgeting with the ends of a sequin dress hanging beside you. Why did he invite you here? Your mind began to spiral in the empty space, where only muffled instrumentals could be heard from the faraway performance stage. You felt like you were always lingering around the peripherals of Jiung’s life, never floating in the same orbit, let alone galaxy, as him. Because let’s be honest, until a few weeks ago when he let you slip in by the backdoor of his life, him, and his voice, were merely something you could only savour from behind a wall, or behind a screen. 

Was it, perhaps… Did he call me here to end it?

The door burst wide open at that moment, revealing a very out-of-breath, yet impeccably dressed and styled Jiung. 

Figures, you thought, as you scanned the boy in front of you from head to toe and rose to your feet. He had a blue knitted shawl thrown over a white long sleeve, and… what were those? Hand warmers? You never really understood fashion anyways.

Jiung took a few seconds to catch his breath and compose himself, not daring to meet your eyes lest they betray him for even a second. When he was rushing to see you before the performance, heck, even when he slipped the backstage passes into your mailbox, truthfully, he wasn’t really thinking. 

See, Jiung was new to this whole… feelings thing. He never used to acknowledge them, let alone think about, process, or talk about them to another person. Growing up, he learned that bottling things up was the quickest and most efficient way to deal with difficult emotions, and that it was the best way to ensure he got back into work. But for some reason, after you reappeared in his life, he started to realise that his default coping mechanisms weren’t that foolproof after all.

And now, he wants to take a big step towards working on this flaw of his. If he could just work up the nerve to look you in the eye…

You cleared your throat, somewhat uncomfortably.

His head shot up in alarm, like a deer caught in headlights. With wide eyes, he stared at you. You stared back at him. Both of you tried to remain expressionless, unsure of what the other was thinking. Both of you had so much to say, but neither had the guts to break the silence.

“I’m sorry I was an ass –”

“Do you hate me –?”

The two of you spoke in unison, overlapping voices filling the dressing room.

Jiung closed his eyes and took a deep breath upon hearing your words. “What I wanted to say was,” A heavy exhale. “I’m sorry. I was being an ass. And no, I don’t hate you.” He chuckled humorlessly. “In fact, it’s quite the opposite.” He muttered, more to himself than anything.

But you heard him. “Yeah,” You laughed softly, nodding. “Yeah, you kinda were an ass.”

“It’s just…” He was looking down at the ground, but his body unconsciously moved closer and closer, towards you, like there was a gravitational pull towards your entire being. “It’s… I didn’t know what to do.”

“About what?” You found yourself moving forward voluntarily, taking baby steps towards him.

“About…” He waved his hands in the air. “About all this. About us…”

Your face fell. You took a step back. “Oh.” You exhaled, feeling your heart sink into a bottomless chasm.

“It’s hard for me, you know? It’s confusing. I got confused.”

Your lips start to tremble. At first, you were so sure that nothing could be worse than absolute radio silence from Jiung. Turns out, this was worse, much worse. Actually hearing his voice utter these words to you were like daggers aimed at your poor soul. “Yeah, you know what? I should probably go.” You just wanted to get out as quickly as possible, and started to make a beeline for the door, but –

“Wait! Listen, please,” He pleaded, finally looking up at you just as you were about to walk past him and out of his life, again. He couldn’t let that happen. “Can you just… Hug me? Please? If that’s okay with you…”

You had so many questions swimming around in your mind but you chose to not think and just did as he said. “But you hate hugs,” You whispered, as your arms came around his waist and his wrapped around your shoulders. 

“Yeah, but, not really. I get less distracted this way.” Jiung muttered in response, and you could feel his chest vibrate against yours. It almost made you feel warm, almost. “Cos I have something important to tell you.” And the sinking feeling returned once more.

You hummed, indicating that you were listening and encouraging him to go on – even though a part of yourself knew what was coming and didn’t want this, whatever it was, to end.

“Y/N, you know me. You’ve known me for a long time. You know me, even before all of this. So trust me when I say, it is hard to deal with my feelings and my emotions. Like you said that time in the hospital, I am not good at dealing with these things. And it’s true, I do bottle them up. But…” He thought for a second, before continuing. “The reason I do it is because it was something that was modelled to me when I was younger, and it was all I knew, and that was how I coped. I avoid things – people, situations, messages, and I run away.”

You nodded. “I know.”

“The past few weeks have been really, really good. I really enjoyed it – all of it. The walks, the food we shared, and just, the time we spent together. I will cherish those memories forever. But…”

You gulped.

“But last weekend, when my mum saw me and asked me about it, I got scared. I don’t know why. She told me that it looked like I got my spark back again, like I was smiling how I used to before. And she asked, whether it was because of you, and what we were. And truthfully, I didn’t know how to answer her, because technically, we weren’t anything.”

You tried to struggle out of his grip at this point because it was too much. Listening to him was too much. But he only held you firmer; wrapped his arms around you a little tighter.

“And then I realised, I never really stop and think about these things. All my life, I just let all my feelings, the good, the bad, and everything in between – I just let them wash over me. And I never really process them, but I never really let them go either. And it wasn’t until the other day when I was walking along the river and I passed the fried chicken place that it hit me. Do you know what I was thinking about when I saw it?”

“What?” You grumbled into his shirt, feeling partially drained from the heavy emotions and anxiousness.

“I wasn’t even thinking about the chicken, or eating the chicken, or having the beer with the chicken. Or how good the rice cakes would taste. I thought, wow, wouldn’t it be perfect, if you were here with me, and we had chicken for supper together?”

“Hmm?” You were confused.

Jiung laughed. “God, I’m so bad at this. What I’m trying to say is,” He loosened his grip so he could face you, eye to eye this time, whilst still holding your body close to his. “It hit me then. I used to go about my life, thinking just about me, or my work, what I want to eat, or what I want to do. And ever since you came into my life, now, all I can think about is you. Everything reminds me of you. The chicken, the walks, a nice park, a good song I heard, a shirt that I saw… I see it, and I think – what would Y/N think of this? What would Y/N prefer? That’s what I want to know. And that’s what scared me. Because not only was it my feelings, but it was also you – your feelings and thoughts were outside of my control because… I can’t read your mind, and because it was heavily implied that if I ever broke your heart I would not be allowed back into my mother’s house, and, and…”

“And?” You asked gently, with a soft, encouraging smile painted on your lips. You understood, now.

“And it’s scary. Feelings are scary. They’re big, and they’re scary. But I want to be brave now, because I want to learn how to deal with them properly, and because I want to own up to them so I can treat you right.”

The pause brought about a silence which allowed his words to sink in. 

“Because,” Jiung pulled you impossibly close. You could feel his warm breath against your cheeks, and his thundering heart against his ribcage, mirroring yours. “Because in case it wasn’t super obvious, I really, really like you.” He said, letting out a shaky breath, lips turning upwards in a nervous smile.

You bit your bottom lip and giggled silently, meeting his vulnerable eyes with your cheeky crescent moons. 

“Why…” Jiung paused. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

You laughed in response, pulling slightly away from him but still firmly holding on. 

“What… Why?”

You shook your head before bursting into another fit of giggles. “You started it! You gave me the silent treatment. I’m just giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

“I… What? Y/N?”

You couldn’t help smiling at his shocked expression, staring at you in disbelief as the cogs in his brain turned ever so slowly. “Oh my god, Jiung, just shut up and kiss me already.”

“I –”

His eyes grew as wide as saucers as you pulled him by the collar, down to your height. Any words he had died in his mouth as your lips finally touched. His brain short circuited for a few seconds, trying and failing to register how soft your plump pillows felt against his, and the subtle sweetness of your strawberry lipbalm, and oh, oh, your tongue, and your hands threading through his orange hair (his stylist was going to give him an earful later), and oh – they’re moving down –

“Jiung!” A voice yelled from the other side of the door. “Ten minutes!”

“Shit,” He mumbled as you began to nibble on his bottom lip in fervour. Jiung let out a pained groan. “Y/N, Y/N, I have to… I have to go, I…”

“Hmm?” You pulled away, but not without a loud smooch and a thin string of saliva connecting both of your lips. You batted your eyelashes up at him, giving him the sweetest smile you could muster. 

“Five minutes.” Jiung looked at you sternly, but his wide smile betrayed him. “Five minutes, that’s all we get.”

“Plenty of time.” You reassured him before lacing your fingers with his and getting cosy on the couch. 

Needless to say, the stylists had their work cut out for them before he had to race on stage.

[aka-indulgence]

take my hand.

Thank you @skelliefanatic for the lovely commission! ^u^ Here’s a tasty tasty outcode stealing you story owo

(Nightmare!Sans x Reader)

Sans didn’t come. Again. After all you’ve prepared this time, the ambience, the dress, all the bells and whistles. You want to be understanding, but your feelings overwhelm you and you need a moment of peace for yourself.

… But don’t worry. If Sans wasn’t here, there was someone even better to take his place. He promises.

CW: Kidnapping, implied mind influences, minor angst

—————

“i don’t understand,”

Sans stares at the screen, ignoring all the other sounds and lights in his room, a warning indicator glowing on and off.

[WEAKENING DETECTED] were written in bold, big letters in the middle. The borders of this universe have been having issues like this for a while now, something he’s been trying to look into, but today it was the worst he’s ever seen it.

He can’t rest until he’s found the answer. Everyone is relying on him, whether they knew it or not.

In his frenzy, he fails to notice his phone lighting up, neglected on the workbench behind him.

[Missed Alarm]

[Missed Call 2 mins]

[Missed Call 10 mins]

[Missed Call 17 mins]...

*********

The ambience was perfect. The candlelit table. The open air balcony. The stars were starting to show as the sky turned from purple to navy, the sun having set moments ago. It was the perfect romantic dinner.

… If only your date showed up.

You move around the last piece of calamari on your plate, exhaling the well of sadness building in your chest in a long sigh. You felt silly, sitting here alone in your nice clothes and feeling sad. How long have you been sitting here now? Long enough for the waiter to come over and ask you if you had more to order?

You eat the last piece of squid. You were grateful it tasted as good as it was, because if it wasn’t you think you wouldn’tve been able to finish the whole plate. You meant to share it.

Did he forget again…?

It’s a strange feeling, being a little hungry while having no appetite. The small plate of appetizer didn’t fill you up, but… you really wanted to eat with him. You’ve even waited before you got this appetizer.

A minute turned to five, which turned to fifteen, then thirty… now it’s close to an hour. It’s upsetting, having an empty stomach, surrounded by good-smelling food and not feeling like you can eat.

You knew that logically, no one was really paying attention. Apart from your server that isn’t paid to judge you, you knew no one would really notice you. But still, you could feel your cheeks run hot with embarrassment, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that people were looking at you. You were wearing something nice- an asymmetrical white dress, accented by a small black belt around your waist, with shiny black heels- sitting in this balcony area with a table for two. You were surrounded by couples who had the same thought you did, that this was a lovely place to have dinner with someone special.

Eventually, you let out a shaky breath and put the fork down. You stand up, and make your way to the stairs down from the balcony.

“S-sorry, I’m coming back. I just need a moment to step outside,” you say to your server, trying to keep your voice from cracking. He nods and you give him a shaky smile, before hurriedly descending down the steps to the gardens.

It was quite dark. There were some ornamental streetlamps on the pathways, but they were sparse and spaced out from each other. Most of the lights were outdoor lights, lighting up the bushes, little pockets of light. It seemed no one else was in the garden.

Finally, privacy.

You make your way to a bench right under a lamppost and sit on it heavily, allowing yourself to sag.

You knew that Sans gets busy a lot. He had projects that he’d excitedly tell you about, and he’s gotten more work as a scientist lately, something he told you he thought he’d never get back into. It’s exciting. Sans told you he had a lot of things going on right now. You were happy for him, you were happy he was reigniting his long forgotten passion. You were just… looking so forward to this.

You feel silly too, you don’t want to be too upset about this- you want to be understanding! You’re not even an item with Sans yet. But you wanted to be. This would be a huge leap, it was a big date. It felt natural, knowing Sans for as long as you did. You fantasized sitting there with him, you’d be laughing at him making knock knock jokes at the table, he’d spill ketchup on his clothes and say he looks better that way, you’d be watching how the light danced over his face.

But he wasn’t here.

Your eyes stung, and you felt mist building. You quickly wipe them away with your fingers- you didn’t feel like crying right now.

Your phone opens with a click, and for a moment you have to shield your eyes. The screen was too bright for your now-sensitive eyes. You open your messages app to Sans’ contact, refreshing it to see if anything’s changed.

No response. You had the last message, and Sans hasn’t answered in the last two hours.

You frown, your heart feeling heavy.

I don’t think it’s happening today, you finally admitted to yourself. I guess we can just do something else some other time. Something smaller

You suck in a breath (and a tear for the matter,) and click away on your keyboard.

You: Hey, are you busy?

You: Tell me if you are ok? :)

Your fingers tap against the back of your phone as the messages load, three dots bouncing over your message. It sends.

You wait for a few seconds, expecting to see… something. A reply, a read sign. Neither happens.

You sputter and deflate, turning your phone off. You’ll have to talk to Sans some other day- for now you needed to gather yourself and come back to your table. Maybe you could just buy a meal for yourself; you were already here, might as well take advantage of the delicious food you’ve spent half your day fantasizing about.

You must’ve been very engrossed in your phone, because you hadn’t noticed that someone was nearby and you jolt when a voice suddenly speaks.

“good evening. may i ask why a beautiful woman like yourself is all alone out here in the garden? it seems quite the lonely place to be instead of the dining room,”

His voice was deep, yet soft, almost hypnotic. Like a voice you could imagine sending you off to sleep. Despite his sudden appearance, there was an inviting tone to his words that drew you in.

“O-oh,” you blushed, fixing your hair. You wondered how much of your emotional turmoil this stranger saw. “Yeah. I just needed a minute,”

“you look troubled. what’s the matter?”

You sigh, hiding your frown behind your fingers. There was no reason to lie, so you tell him, “my um… my date didn’t show up. It’s been an hour,”

He made a sound of pity. “you poor thing… that’s a shame, really. what sort of fool would pass up on a woman like you?”

“I… oh,” you giggle nervously. It’s a bit embarrassing how quickly your mood brightens from the pretty words this stranger was giving you. You find your cheeks turning warm and you couldn’t stop the smile growing on your face. Any other time, if you found yourself sitting alone in a dark place and a man approached you, you would’ve been frightened. But, there was something about him that made your walls crumble. Maybe it’s because your date missed you again and you just liked the attention this man was giving you.

You try to get a proper look of him, but you couldn’t quite make him out. He was standing in the shade, just out of reach of the lamppost’s light, standing beside a big bush. Even so, it was strange. He looks to be in complete darkness, the shadows that fell on him and surrounded him left him completely featureless… almost. The only thing that you could see was a vague silhouette that seemed to shift and swirl in shape whenever you tried to focus on it, a big grin, and a bright, glowing, cyan eye.

His grin reminded you of Sans. Maybe you just liked wide-grinning monsters?

“if i were him, i wouldn’t make you wait. i’d be there to pick you up and take you here. i would lavish you with all the things you wanted in life… i would treat you better than he does,” he avows. “it’s quite the tragedy that you’re taken by a lesser man,”

You could feel this man was trying to flatter you, and you didn’t want Sans to seem bad. But you still felt compelled. “Uh, actually, we’re not dating yet. This was supposed to be a step closer, haha…”

You could see his eye crinkle. He was both metaphorically and physically brightening upon hearing that.

“oh! is that so?... how would you like if i treated you to dinner?”

“Oh, um, you don’t have to…” you fidgeted with your hand. Besides, you felt guilty about going with someone else while Sans wasn’t here.

“why not? he isn’t here, and you don’t owe him anything. he can’t be upset with you if he missed his chance at claiming you to be his. besides, you could use a little bit of fun,”

You look away, instead having your eyes at the stone pathways, scratching your wrist. He… he isn’t wrong. If anything went wrong you didn’t even have to stay with him. It was ok to have a little fun… right? You deserved this much after he’s missed a meeting with you so many times already.

“I suppose you’re right,” You say uncertainly.

The figure smirks.

“smart girl… i could give you much more than a simple dinner date,” he claims. “i could give you everything you desire. hell, i could give you something better than all that you desired. i could become the man you’ve always dreamed of,”

You raised your eyebrows. He was talking about a lot of grandiose things, and honestly, he sounds like he came out straight from a movie. You were a mix of perplexed and a little intrigued.

“How can you be so sure of that? You don’t even know what I want,”

He chuckles, and takes a step towards the light… only to disappear into the floor.

You stand up, alert, wondering if he tripped or- or something, but then you squeak when you hear him on the other side of you, still cloaked in shadow.

“oh my dear… i am a man capable of many things.” He chuckles.

Oh. He could teleport like Sans?

“Ahah,” you laugh nervously. Were you just interested in people that were somewhat similar to Sans? Why was it alluring you?

The stranger taps on his chin like he’s trying to make a guess of you. “forgive me if i’m a bit presumptuous, but you seem like a lady up to my speed. would you like to travel? to see the world?”

Just as he speaks them, you could see them in your mind’s eye, more vivid than you’ve ever imagined them. You see the seaside. Fields of flower. A great mountain. Colorful architecture you’ve never seen before.

“I… do…”

“i don’t think you’re the type for a lavish life but… wouldn’t you like to live deliciously?” He offers. “you don’t need gold, jewelries, a mansion, i’m sure, but. i think you’d like to live in a way where you don’t have to worry about any material thing ever again?”

“O-of course, everyone wants that,” was he rich? Was he offering you his worldly possessions? “But you’re right, that’s not what I’m looking for, not right now.”

It’d be nice. It’s a dream everyone has, but right now you really just wanted someone to-

“of course. you want someone to love you? i can provide that.” He smiles. “i would never let an esteemed woman like yourself be neglected. i can be an excellent lover. i’ll give you all the affection you could ever want and more,”

You press your lips and pinch your dress. It sounds so good, too good even. Did you really want to go with this man you’ve never met before? You don’t know him. But you could feel you soul being tugged towards him, you want to experience all the things he’s saying to you…

It sounds like a dream you want to live in.

B-but, you thought, but Sans,

“we don’t have to think about him anymore,” the stranger interjects, as if he could hear your thoughts. “why stay with him when he isn’t giving you the time of day? you aren’t even with him and he’s already being inattentive,”

He scoffs.

“i could give you so much more than sans ever could,”

“I… what?” You felt a sudden chill run over your skin. “H-how… how do you know his name?”

The stranger smiles casually, warping to a different spot in the shadows. It feels like he was surrounding you.

“i’m simply a man that knows many things, my dear,” he chuckles.

“and why would you give that pathetic monster the time of day anyway? he’s slow, he’s lazy, he’s unrefined. when he isn’t face deep buried in his research, he’s telling uncreative jokes. he can’t even keep track of time. he gets snarky with humans, he- he doesn’t deserve you,” he speaks very fast, every word spilling out of his mouth laced with more malice and venom.

You feel frozen in your spot as he regains his composure. He closes his eyes and takes a breath, light flooding back into view, and something retracting into him.

After a few moments, his smile returns, and his gaze falls back on you. The fear you felt quickly gets chased away, like… just seeing that smile could comfort you. You don’t feel like running anymore.

“i’m so sorry for that. i simply just want the best for you, darling,” he purrs, “don’t worry. with me, it’ll be so easy. you want your dreams to come true, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you say, all dreamy-like.

“of course. all you have to do is take my hand,”

For the first time since he appeared, he extended his hand into the light. Even so, he was still the color of midnight. His sleeve, his… bones?

“i can be anything you like,”

His face emerged from the shadows, a skull.

Your heart stopped.

He looked exactly like Sans. His grin, his sockets, his round skull, his face-

You broke out of whatever sense of security you felt and took a hasty step back. Suddenly everything felt wrong, it felt like you just raised your head out of a sea of sludge, that you could finally see things clearly now. Your body was screaming now, that this stranger was far more dangerous than you could’ve imagined.

You walk backwards slowly, and with a shaky smile, you try to end things amicably with him.

“Th-thank you for the offer… sir. You have been very kind and it sounds so wonderful, b-but, I think I’ll have to decline for now. I need to get back to my table, I’ve made them wait too long…”

You turn around to escape to the restaurant, and you miss how his smile fades.

“... wrong answer.”

You scream when something wet cinches around your middle, and you would’ve tumbled if it hadn’t squeezed you so tightly. You pull against it, and you only have a moment to look at it- a slimy tendril, covered in what looked like tar- before you’re yanked away and forced to turn towards your assailant.

The stranger walks fully out of the shadows this time, revealing that he was completely covered in the same black sludge that dripped down from his tendril. It wasn’t just his face that looked like Sans. From head to toe he was a spitting image of him: wearing a jacket and shorts just like your favorite skeleton but wrong, corrupted. You watched in horror as three more identical tentacles snake out of his back, flailing in the air, droplets of ooze falling and fading on the pathway. He looks disappointed.

“it’s a shame, really,” he laments, his voice sounding richer and more otherworldly than before. “i wanted to make this a dream for you. i would’ve gone against my very nature to make you happy. but you just had to make this difficult for yourself…”

He smiled pityingly at you.

“i apologize for the nightmare to come,”

He starts to sink into the puddle forming under him. Nothing but blind, hot white panic filled your very being as the rest of his tendrils snatched you around your wrists and ankles, screaming as you’re dragged in along with him. The sounds of his wicked laughter ring all around you, his eye alight with twisted delight. You turn around and fall against the floor, trying to claw your way away from him, whining when your fingers can’t find purchase. You feel his phalanges wrap around your leg, and you scream as you’re pulled down into the darkness.

The garden falls silent.

…

Sans rushes into the restaurant in his labcoat, phone clutched in his fingers. He’s sweating, rushing towards the balcony area the receptionist told him you’d be.

“w-wait (y/n), i’m here!”

He… stops. Your table is empty. There is a cheque on top of it, stained with black ink in the corners.

It’s been paid.

[puck-luck]

Ooh omg congrats on the 1K!!

I would like to request 5 of clubs with Jack Hughes please. (Maybe with an exhibition kink 🙈)

This isn't quite as clubs-like or exhibitionist, but I've been feeling slightly out of the mood today (I think because I had to make a lesson about the American relationship with Native Americans during colonization... not the most uplifting topic). Hoping for something better tomorrow!

Also I'm watching a 2.5 hour video essay about One Direction's history right now. I love that people can make whatever content they want, and they usually give it their all :)

after typing that i'm realizing that statement is really meta since i'm writing nhl fanfic. sigh. ok fine i guess i enjoy my own content whatever

Warnings: fingering, exhibition, Paul Mescal in Gladiator II WC: 592

You’ve never been one to keep trivial secrets from Jack. He’s your boyfriend and you are thoroughly against miscommunication. Your openness has resulted in plenty of fun jokes for Jack, the latest of which has landed you in your current predicament. You’re in the bougie movie theater that Jack always splurges on, sitting in a plush recliner and watching Gladiator II. Jack thought this would be a fun date night, because– well– you love Paul Mescal. 

It’s something about his nose. It’s very Roman, which you find sexy. Jack knows this, and knows that you’ve particularly enjoyed the costume design of the film, even joking with you about dressing up like a gladiator for Halloween. 

He hadn’t mentioned it again until this morning, which is when he told you that he’d bought some tickets for the film. It had actually been out for a while now, so the theater is relatively empty, but you’d never had the time to see the movie. Jack, after all, had wanted to see it with you… probably because he wanted to pull something like this.

He knows that Paul Mescal is your celebrity crush. You’ve been repeating that to yourself since you realized that it’s the motivation behind Jack’s movements. His touch had been casual at first, just tapping his fingers against your thigh. He’d convinced you to wear a skirt by claiming you’d be going to dinner afterward. You expect that his real reason is that he wanted easy access.

His fingers are inside of you now, petting over your walls. He’s teasing you, moving slowly when Paul Mescal isn’t on screen and thrusting into you at a quicker pace when your crush graces your vision with his presence. Jack also particularly likes drawing circles over your clit as he moves inside you, constantly keeping you on the edge.

“Jack,” you hiss, ready to try and convince him to stop, even though you only half-want his movements to cease. You’re flushing a bit, eyes darting around the theater to make sure no one is watching you. There are only a few other groups in the theater: another couple two rows ahead, a group of university-aged girls near the middle of the theater, two middle aged women in the front row. All in all, there are less than fifteen people in this theater. 

“Be quiet, baby. I can’t have everyone hearing you,” Jack murmurs. He shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth, continuing his movements. He’s acting completely normal, even as your cunt squeezes him tight. 

You bring your hand down and clutch his wrist, trying to halt his movements. 

Jack turns to you. “Do you really want me to stop?” He asks quietly. Paul Mescal starts speaking on the screen and Jack’s eyes flicker away from you to check the screen. His thumb increases its pace against your clit and his fingers flex rapidly inside of you. 

You whimper a bit, clenching down involuntarily. Your knuckles turn white while your fingers grip his arm. Your hips jolt.

Jack quirks an eyebrow. 

“No,” you admit, loosening your grip and allowing him to continue. 

“Just pay attention to Paul,” Jack encourages, smirking at you and brushing a kiss against your cheek. “I’m just here to help you along, baby.”

You scoff quietly, cringing a bit at his words. 

Jack clocks your reaction, his face breaking out in a tiny smile. He giggles to himself, tracing the line of your jaw before mouthing against your throat. “Don’t laugh. We’re having fun. You, me, and your other boyfriend.”

[hubbvrd]

Hey can I request #18 with joe burrow 😊 Thankyou

summary — Joe takes you out on a date to the drive-in movie theater, where you get a little closer

pairing — joe burrow x reader

words — 1758 words

THE SUN WAS slowly setting on the horizon as Joe skillfully parked his car in one of the empty parking spaces.

About an hour and a half ago, Joe had spontaneously texted you that he would pick you up for a date.

You had tried to get a little dressed up because you didn't want to go on a date with Joe in your cozy outfit, which consisted of pajama pants and a loose shirt that was way too big for you.

In fact, you had just managed to swap your outfit for a pair of comfortable jeans and a T-shirt before Joe collected you.

And now you were in a large parking lot in the middle of nowhere, with the drive-in movie theater opening in less than an hour.

"Come on, I've got everything ready." Joe grabbed your hand after you got out and led you around the car to the trunk, which he opened, leaving you in awe.

The back seat was folded down so that you had more space inside, while countless cushions and cozy blankets were spread out.

There were even a few fairy lights to keep you cozy for the next few hours while the movie was playing.

"Wow, Joe. This is incredible," you exclaimed almost enthusiastically with a broad grin on your lips.

"I knew you would like it" Joe replied with a grin and looked over at you.

A soft giggle left your lips. "You're great!"

You gently pulled Joe over to you to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. Joe's cheeks turned slightly red within a few seconds and he began to scratch his neck nervously.

"Uhm, I'll get some snacks and drinks then."

Without waiting for an answer from you, the older man had already made his way through the parked cars towards the snack bar.

With a contented sigh, you dropped onto the edge of the trunk and began to untie your Convers and slip them off your feet before sinking into the large, cosy cushions and covering yourself with one of the blankets.

From the seat in the trunk, you had an incredible view of the big screen that was a few meters from Joe's car.

Around you, other couples or friends were sitting next to each other on the roofs of their cars or in their trunks. A few soft voices wafted over to you, otherwise it was pretty quiet.

And in this silence, you began to feel the butterflies in your stomach slowly picking themselves up and starting to fly little laps.

Joe and you had already been on one date or another, but none of these dates had ever involved an intimate moment. But you were more than sure that this would come to an end today.

Because the two of you in a cramped room with countless pillows and blankets would probably end in physical contact. And that's what you desperately wanted.

You loved to cuddle, so you wanted closeness and affection quite often and let others feel it too.

Until now, you had only ever dreamed about what it would be like to cuddle up in Joe's arms and how it might feel. But today, today you would finally take the step and find out what it would be like to lie in Joe's arms.

"I see you've already made yourself comfortable," Joe's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. In his hand he held two Coca Cola bottles and a huge popcorn bucket.

"Yup," you grinned, "and I see you bought the biggest popcorn bucket on the stall?"

"Yes, so that we can still have some during the movie. I know how quickly the popcorn always runs out."

Joe handed you the two bottles of Coke and the huge bucket of popcorn, which you held securely, while Joe took off his shoes and then lay down next to you at a distance.

His aftershave immediately caught your nose and your heart began to beat a little faster within a few seconds.

Joe's proximity made you slightly nervous, so you began to wonder if the movie would distract you so much from Joe's proximity that your heart wouldn't race incessantly and you would almost go crazy.

"What...what are we actually watching?" you started some kind of topic, trying to keep your physical reactions to Joe's closeness under control as best you could.

While Joe told you a movie title you'd never heard before, you kept reaching into the bucket of popcorn to keep yourself occupied.

A short time later, the screen was switched on and three commercials appeared until the movie finally started and you began to hope you could distract yourself with the movie.

But this seemed to be more difficult than you thought, because in the middle of the movie Joe slid so close to you that your knees touched slightly and the butterflies in your stomach did somersaults.

"Are you okay?" Joe whispered softly to you as you began to play nervously with your fingers under the blanket.

A glance to your left in the dim light of the fairy lights and the screen showed you that Joe's eyes were looking at you curiously, not too far from your face.

"Um, yeah," you mumbled softly before pulling your hand out from under the blanket and reaching into the popcorn, then shoving the handful of popcorn into your mouth and chewing with relish.

As you kept shoveling a load of popcorn into your mouth and began to notice that the butterflies in your stomach were slowly calming down, you automatically became more relaxed.

But this only lasted until you suddenly felt Joe's arm around your waist, gently pulling you towards him.

"What... what are you doing?" Your voice sounded rather nervous, while the spot on your hip where Joe's hand was resting immediately began to tingle.

"You're sitting too far away," he realized and wrapped his right arm, which had been resting on your hip, around you.

Joe's warmth immediately enveloped you and your head automatically found its way towards Joe's chest, where your head rested.

Joe's fingers kept gently stroking your arm, on which goose bumps were slowly spreading. And while you tried to concentrate a little more on the movie, in which you didn't even know what had happened, you felt Joe put a blanket over you and he pulled you a little closer to him.

A smile formed on your lips as you savored the closeness to Joe and absorbed his touch, hoping that this moment wouldn't end too soon.

- - -

A soft yawn left your lips as you sauntered over to the trashcan to put the empty popcorn bucket in the trash.

The movie had ended a few minutes ago and by now it was getting pretty late. Every now and then you had already dozed off, as Joe's closeness and warmth had surrounded and enveloped you so much that your eyes had automatically closed.

The bucket landed in the garbage can with a thud and as you strolled between the parked cars back to Joe's car, you pulled Joe's warm hoodie over your head.

It had gotten pretty chilly, so you grabbed Joe's hoodie without thinking twice.

You immediately stopped shivering as the warm fabric and Joe's smell surrounded you.

You buried your nose in the fabric for a few seconds, taking in Joe's scent completely, before slowly walking back to the car to wait for Joe.

The older one had left about five minutes ago, saying that he had to go to the toilet.

Another loud yawn escaped you as you began to shake out the remaining popcorn crumbs from the blankets and another smile crept onto your lips as you began to think back to the last step and a half that Joe and you had spent cuddled up together.

It wasn't just you who had enjoyed that time to the full, but Joe too. At some point, Joe had wrapped his arms around you quite protectively and rested his head on yours, occasionally stroking your arm, lost in thought.

When you thought back to the last hour and a half, the butterflies in your stomach, which apparently didn't even finish work today, started to fly again.

A yawn next to you made you flinch, so you clutched one of the pillows tightly, possibly having to chase the person who had approached you away with the pillow, which was probably not the best defense.

"Hey. It's just me!" Joe almost shouted, throwing his hands up in the air as you swung the pillow ready to strike.

"God, Joe! Don't ever scare me like that again!" you grumbled quietly and lowered the pillow.

"I'm sorry, y/n. I didn't mean to scare you," he began to apologize to you guiltily and then took the pillow from your hand, which he carelessly threw into the trunk and then closed it.

"Let me take you home."

- - -

Fifteen minutes later, when Joe turned into the street where you lived, it took a lot of effort to even begin to keep your eyes open.

During the drive, you had both enjoyed the silence that had surrounded you except for the radio, which Joe had turned down quite a bit.

"So, here we are." Joe stopped in front of your house and looked over at you. "This really has been a lovely evening."

"It was," you agreed, hoping you wouldn't blush as the fond memories began to play out before your eyes.  "Thank you for the date."

Your lips gently touched Joe's soft cheek before you undid your seatbelt and just before you were about to get out, you remembered something else.

"Oh, I still have your hoodie on." 

Your hand reached for the waistband of the hoodie, but before you could even begin to pull it over your head, Joe's words stopped you.

"Keep it. It looks better on you anyway." He gave you a warm, honest smile, which the blood slowly start to rush to your cheeks.

"Thank you, Joe. For everything," you almost whispered before you kissed him on the cheek again and got out of the car.

Joe waited until you had disappeared inside your home before he drove home too.

With the door slamming shut, you leaned back against the door as your nose buried itself in the fabric of the hoodie again and you closed your eyes, heart pounding, and reviewed the day. And you could hardly wait for Joe to pick you up for your next date.

[chrisevansleftpeck]

Word Count: 800

Content Warnings: Just wine :)

my man looks so good in this gif holy hell

You’d waited all week for Spencer’s case to wrap up. It’d been four days and you two had called every single night just so you could sleep. That was sufficient for you in the past, but since your relationship had become more “hands-on”, sometimes you and Spencer wanted more on calls. You guys had sort of begun lounging around on call shirtless or in your undergarments and just for the fun of it, that sufficed. But it was Valentine's Day and you were promised dinner, wine and movie night. All of that began to seem impossible though as Spencer was still in Kentucky and you were living in his DC apartment. 

You were sort of deflated, just moping around the apartment for most of the night, making some hot tea and having yourself a Marvel movie marathon. It wasn’t until your phone buzzed that you smiled for the first time in hours, reading Spencer’s name in your phone. 

Hey, call in fifteen? I’ll be wearing something nice. I’m also really really sorry. I love you, talk soon. 

You practically jumped up from the couch, running to Spencer’s bedroom to sift through his closet for the red heart dress you’d bought just for Valentine’s Day, as well as the black lingerie set you bought.You strategically threw your hair up, clipping it with a black claw clip. To tie it together, you added a red lip and gelled your eyebrows with an eyebrow brush as well as lightly applying some cream blush and mascara. Lastly, as stupid as it was, you also spritzed yourself with some perfume. It was Spencer’s favorite on you and even though he couldn’t smell it, it made the night feel more real to you.

You were all prepped, waiting for his call, snuggled into the couch with a bottle of wine and an empty glass. Your phone was prepped against an unlit candle on the coffee table, facing your direction. You felt a thrill run through you as your phone buzzed against the table, Spencer’s name appearing on your screen. You answered with a smile then practically stuck your jaw to the floor. 

Spencer was wearing nice black work pants as well as his white long sleeve undershirt which was unbuttoned halfway down. “I selfishly hope you didn’t wear that to work.” 

“I did, but I saved the unbuttoned look for you, baby.” Spencer said, shifting to sit criss-cross on the floor. He settled into his spot, then reached for a bottle of wine and an empty glass off of a counter. You watched Spencer open his bottle of wine, you doing the same with yours. “You look beautiful, for what it’s worth. Really pretty. I’m sorry I can’t be there.”

You began to fluster from his compliment until he reminded you of his looming absence. The apartment was really quiet without him. “It’s nobody’s fault.” You nodded, pouring your red into the glass.

“Yes, it is. It’s my fault. I’m sorry. There’s always going to be another unsub-” He apologized again, but in a sharper tone. Spencer was so guilt-ridden.

You cut Spencer off, “Stop it. You look too pretty to be so worried right now. I know you’ll make it up to me, you do every time, baby.” You attempted to soothe Spencer, assuring him it was okay, even if it left you a little empty inside. 

“Well I don’t like having to make it up to you all the time. Which is why I have good news for you.” Spencer’s frown turned into a smile. “‘I’ll be attending cases every once in a while, but the BAU gave me a part-time offer to teach at a university in DC and consult virtually or from the office on cases. I’m going to take it.” You began to laugh. Out of joy out of happiness out of something- but you were really excited. “I have one more surprise too.” 

“Spencer this is so great! But I don’t have anything for you, you know-” You were promptly cut off by the sound of Spencer’s phone disconnecting and one of his neighbor’s doors unlatching. What came next was a knock on Spencer’s door.

You stood up quickly, deciding you’d peek through the door’s peeping hole first, just to be safe. Through the hole you saw those familiar hands holding a big bouquet of assorted flowers. You wasted no time unlatching the door and throwing your arms around Spencer.

You jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you in, locking the door behind you two. Once Spencer had placed the bouquet on his kitchen counter, he let you down, allowing his hands to settle on your velvety dress’s waist. 

He stepped backward slightly, taking in all of you. “I can’t believe you did that.” You playfully hit Spencer’s shoulder, pulling him into a hug.

“You really think I’d miss Valentine's Day?” Spencer asked, holding your cheeks and giving you your first of many kisses that night.

"How about we get started on some Valentine's Day festivities?" You suggested, grasping the back of his fluffy hair as you began to kiss him. It was going to be a good, long Valentine's Day.

[winchesterwild78]

Unexpected Hunter Pt 4

Chapter Warnings: fluff, SMUT, mention of weapons, Dean being an ass, safe sex, violence, drug use, alcohol, mention of infertility and pregnancy.

a/n: Sorry got a little carried away with this one. Also, I apologize but what I did with Dean is something I really feel he would do. Especially after losing so much in his life. I cried a little writing this. Sorry in advance. I promise it’ll get better.

18+ Minors DNI

*********************************************

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed. The door to the adjoining room was open. You got up went to the bathroom and got dressed. Once dressed you walked to Sam and Dean’s room. Sam was sitting at the table on his laptop but Dean and Lexi were gone. “Morning Sam. Where’s Dean and Lexi” you asked him. “Hey, good morning y/n. Dean went to grab breakfast and he took Lexi with him.” Sam said without really looking up. “Whatcha doing Sammy” you asked him. “Just some research into the local area and the victims.” He said. “Can I help with anything. I’d like to learn how to at least research” you said kinda pouting. Sam chuckled and explained how they did their research and how they map things out before they head into any fight. “We try to have as much information as we can so we don’t go in blind” he said showing you the screen.

Just then the door swung open and Lexi came bounding in. She ran up to you and licked you. “Hey girl. How are you. Did you sleep good in that big bed all by yourself” you asked petting her. You looked up at Dean but as soon as you looked at him he looked away. What the hell, you thought to yourself. “Hey Dean I’m showing y/n how to research so she can help us out on cases. Figured you’d want to keep her around” Sam said with a smirk. “Shut it Sammy” Dean said with a growl in his voice. Sam spun his head around and looked at Dean “what the hell man, what pissed in your coffee this morning” Sam said and looked over at you.

Tears were pricking your eyes and your heart was breaking. What happened between last night and this morning. Everything was perfect as you drifted off to sleep. That’s when you realized you told him you loved him. Of fuck, way to screw it up. I probably scared him off. It was way too soon to say it. You looked up at Dean and when you made eye contact with him he grabbed his jacket and said “I’m going to the police station and see what I can find out” and he stormed out of the room. You looked at Sam and he got up and took off after him.

You stood up and walked into your room, called Lexi and closed and locked the door. You needed to be alone. You made love to Dean, gave him all of you, fell in love with him and now he can’t look at you. You couldn’t hold the tears back anymore. You cried into your pillow and felt the hole in your chest get bigger with every tear that fell. Sam was at the car before Dean could leave. “What the hell Dean. Why are you acting like such a dick this morning. I thought you liked her. Hell you guys have screwed more times in two days than you usually do in a month.” Sam said as he blocked Dean from leaving. “Stay out of it Sammy. My personal life is not your concern. I’ll screw who I want when I want. I don’t need you or her telling me what I can and can’t do. Now move so I can leave.” Dean said through gritted teeth. “No, Dean. I’m coming with you. I have no clue what happened but I’m going with you to the police station. We are still on a case.” Sam climbed in the car and Dean took off towards the station.

After all your tears were done you had a horrible headache. You took some medicine and curled up on the bed with Lexi. You pulled the pillow Dean slept on close to you. You could still smell him on it. Even though he was rejecting you it still brought you comfort. Maybe he’ll talk to me later. You thought as you drifted off to sleep. A few hours later you heard Sam and Dean back in their room. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but you just laid in bed. You couldn’t bear to see him right now.

Then there was a knock on the door. “Please go away. I’m not feeling well” you said trying to control your shaking voice. The knocking continued. You just laid there. “Y/n please open up. Dean’s gone. It’s just me.” Sam pleaded through the door. You walked over and unlocked it. As soon as Sam saw you he wrapped his arms around you and you lost it again. “Sammy what did I do.” You said to him. “Everything was perfect. I let him in. He was so sweet and gentle. I love him. I didn’t mean to tell him. It just came out last night after we made love. Oh Sam, I don’t know how to fix this” you said sobbing into his chest. “Shhh, it’s okay y/n. I’m sure we can fix this. Dean just has so many walls up and when he’s confronted with real feelings he gets scared and reacts. I’ll talk to him.” Sam said while rubbing your back. He placed a soft kiss on your head and told you he’d be back.

Sam left and headed toward the local bar. He knew he’d find Dean in there. Sure enough Dean was sitting at the bar with a whiskey in one hand and a blonde in his other. Sam walked up and made eye contact with Dean and saw he already had finished off three drinks. “Don’t start Sam. I mean it.” Dean said. “Dean, come on man. She’s really upset. You’ve got to talk to her” Sam pleaded with his brother. “Not gonna happen Sam. She should have known it was just a good time. She’s the one who caught feelings” Dean said as he stood up. He grabbed the blonde’s hand pulling her towards the door. “Gotta go baby brother. I’ve got more important things to do” He said with a smirk on his face as the woman giggled.

He headed back to the room with her. He knew you were there but he didn’t care. When he got back to the room he saw the door was open. Lexi came bounding into the room and started licking Dean. You ran in after her and stopped dead in your tracks. There Dean was smelling like whiskey with a woman on his arm. You looked at Dean and your heart broke. Tears started streaming down your face. For a second you thought he was going to say something but he just stood there. Fucking coward, you thought. “Come on Lexi. Let’s leave Dean alone with his latest conquest.” You said as you stormed out of the room slamming the door and locking it.

A few minutes later you heard Dean and the blonde going at it. Your heart broke more and then you felt sick. How could three words do so much damage. You know he felt it. He said he felt something. Was it all a lie. Ugh. The blonde was getting louder with every passing minute. You couldn’t take it anymore. You got up got dressed and went to the bar. You didn’t care who or what came after you. You had to get away from him and his conquest.

When you arrived at the bar Sam was sitting at a table. You walked over to him and sat down. “Hey y/n I guess he took her back to the room “ he said. “Yeah he and the blonde are getting to know each other. I couldn’t listen to it for another minute. I had to leave.” You said. The waitress came over and you ordered a double shot of whiskey. When she brought it you tossed it back and ordered another. Again tossed it back as soon as she brought it. Three double shots later and you were on the dance floor grinding on any guy that would let you. Sam tried to get you to sit down and eat something and sober up but you told him no. There was a tall dark haired man with piercing blue eyes dancing with you and letting you rub all over his body. You decided you were taking him back to your room tonight. Consequences be damned.

You waited for Sam to be distracted and you and blue eyes took off towards your room. You didn’t know if Dean was still in his room but you didn’t care. Blue eyes was on you the minute you closed the door. Clothes were flying around and he was kissing you all over your body. He felt good but nothing like Dean. No, stop it! Don’t think about Dean. You thought to yourself. He threw you on the bed and you landed with a yelp. Before you could say anything he slid a condom on and slid right in. He was rough and not in a good way. Moans filled your room and then he flipped you over on your knees. The new angle was deeper. You started yelling and moaning louder. Not realizing how loud you were.

Blue eyes was grunting loudly and slapping your ass. You heard a loud banging on the door and yelling. At first you couldn’t make it out because your face was in the pillow. You picked your head up and heard “who the fuck do you have in there y/n”. It was Dean banging on the door. Blue eyes stopped and you bucked your hips and yelled “oh fuck, yeah, don’t stop. Fuck me”. You knew Dean could hear you and it pissed him off. He started banging louder. Blue eyes started to stop and you shot him a don’t you dare look. He kept going until he came. Once he did he went to the bathroom and removed the condom and got dressed. “Who the fuck is banging on your door” he asked. “Just some jackass. Ignore him” you said. “Hey babe I’m not getting in the middle of drama. Thanks for the fuck. I’m leaving” he said as he walked out.

Once he was gone you grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around you and went to open the door. Dean was still banging on it. You opened the door and said “what the fuck do you want Dean”. He looked at you and saw you were naked and for a second you thought he looked hurt. “Who the hell did you have in here y/n” he asked as he stormed in your room. “What the hell do you care, Dean. What about your blonde bimbo” you snapped back. He just stared at you. “Dean I want you to leave. I’m not in the mood to fight with you. I know where I stand with you. Once we get back to the bunker I’m leaving. So please leave my room. I’m exhausted and I want to go to bed.” You said not able to look at him. Dean stood there for a minute. His whole world spiraling and he didn’t know what to do. He hurt you bad and he knew it. All he wanted to do was to kiss you and tell you he loved you too but he couldn’t. He looked at you and said “okay, y/n I’m sorry” and he walked away shutting the door behind him. You collapsed on the floor sobbing. God this man frustrated you. Why wouldn’t he fight for you. Did you really mean so little to him. You dragged yourself to the bathroom, got dressed and crawled into bed. You fell asleep after about an hour of crying.

The next morning you woke up with a massive headache. You grabbed water and Tylenol. After about 30 minutes you got in the shower. You got dressed and prepared yourself to see Dean. You unlocked the door and knocked. Sam answered and offered you a hug. “I’m sorry y/n. Dean told me everything. You don’t have to leave. You’re more than welcome to stay.” Sam said. “I appreciate it Sam, but I don’t think I can. It hurts too much. Now let’s dive into this case so you boys can protect this town.” You said sitting at the table. The door opened and Dean walked in with 3 coffees and some breakfast. You looked at him and for the first time since yesterday morning he looked in your eyes. His eyes were puffy and sad. You knew he had been crying and your heart clenched. You wanted nothing more than to hug him, but you stayed put. “I got coffee and breakfast sandwiches for everyone” Dean said in a very quiet voice. “Thank you, Dean” was all you said. He felt his heart clench when you said his name.

After you ate and drank your coffee you dove into the research. You could feel Dean staring at you and when Sam would notice he’d clear his throat. A few hours later you realized a connection between all the missing and the victims. “Oh my goodness guys, look. All the victims are women between the ages of 20-35. Unmarried and of child bearing age. The ones that turned up dead all had noticeable scarring to their uterus which would cause fertility issues. The vamps are targeting women who can have children. They are trying to breed instead of turn. Holy shit guys.” You said breaking the silence in the room. Sam said “so that means they have to be near a hospital or doctor’s office”. He pulled out a map and found the nearest hospital. Right beside it was an abandoned building. He pulled up the deed information and it belonged to a doctor. “Got it. I think this is where they are. Dean let’s go do some surveillance before we head in.” Sam said. Dean stood up and looked at you in awe. You made eye contact with him and almost said something but stopped. You looked away and told them both to be careful. You stood and Sam pulled you in to a big hug and kissed your head. “You’re amazing y/n” he said as he pulled away. Dean just stood there looking a little frustrated and sad. The guys headed out the door and climbed in the car. You sat back down at the table.

Dean got in the car and looked at Sam but didn’t say anything. He wanted to tell him he screwed up and ask his brother how to fix it but he kept quiet. A few minutes later they pulled into a lot near the building. They crept up to it and looked inside. Sure enough there were the missing women and they counted 4 vamps. There was another woman on a bed who wasn’t part of the missing reports they had. She was about 30 and looked very pregnant. Dean looked at Sam shocked. You were right. They were breeding vampires. The brothers headed back to the car to make a plan.

“Okay so I counted 4 vamps and at least 6 women, including the pregnant one.” Dean said. “There has to be another vamp. One that is calling the shots. I think we should wait and see who else shows up. We need to make sure we get all of them.” Sam said as he climbed in the car. Dean wanted to get this over with but he knew Sam was right.

While the guys were gone you started looking for a new place to stay. You had a degree so getting a job wouldn’t be hard, but where would you go. You couldn’t stay near the bunker because it would hurt too much to see Dean, but you loved the area. You decided you would move just outside the area and get a hotel room until you found a permanent place. You sighed because your whole word has been turned upside down since you were attacked. You really thought you found home and found the one. You felt so stupid to have fallen so fast.

You decided to take Lexi for a walk and hopefully clear your head. Grabbing your shoes and the leash you left a note for the guys in case they came back before you. Walking outside the sunlight and fresh air hit you. It washed over your body and it felt amazing. Lexi was excited to be outside and was jumping around. You laughed at her. At least you still have her you thought.

You found a little park and decided to let her run a bit. The part as pretty empty and she really needed to stretch her legs. You sat on a bench and watched her run around you and play. Lexi was a good dog. She always stayed close to you even off her leash. As you were watching her a man sat down on the bench beside you. He was a little older. Maybe early 50s with gray hair and deep brown eyes. He definitely was good looking. You two exchanged some polite small talk while you kept an eye on Lexi. “So you don’t look like you’re from around here” the man said with a voice that sent a chill down your spine. “No, just passing through. I’m gonna be leaving soon” you said. “That’s a shame. I’d like to get some coffee or something with you” the man said. You blushed and for some reason you said you’d like that too.

You took Lexi back to the room and met the mystery man at the local diner.

He was already there when you arrived. You offered him a soft smile and sat down. “I hope you don’t mind but I went ahead and ordered you a coffee” he said as he motioned to the cup in front of you. “Oh thank you” you said as you poured creamer and sugar in the cup. You learned he was a local doctor who grew up here and after med school came back as his way to give back to the place that made him who he was. He told you he had four siblings but no special person or children in his life. He was so easy to talk to. He touched your hand and gave you a smile that made your hair stand on end. Your heart rate picked up. Oh god, was he a vamp? You thought to yourself. “Um, I’ll be back. I’m going to head to the restroom” you said. As you stood up you felt a little dizzy. You made it to the bathroom and tried to call Dean. He picked up and all you could say was “Dean” before you hit the floor.

“Sweetheart, you okay. Talk to me.” Then he heard a thud and the line went dead. “Sam it’s y/n she said my name and I think she passed out. We have to go now!” He said as he threw the car in reverse and took off.

Mystery man had collected you from the bathroom and put you in his car. Nobody questioned him when he carried you out because of course he’s a doctor.

Dean was in a panic trying to get back to the hotel. When they arrived they found Lexi but not you. “Damn where is she Sammy?!” Dean yelled as he punched the wall. “We will find her Dean. Let’s start asking around town. She couldn’t have gone far” Sam said trying to reassure his brother. They got in the car and drove to the stores and restaurants in town. Each place they went to turned up nothing. The last place was the diner. They walked in and the waitress told them to sit wherever. Dean walked up to the counter and said they were looking for their friend. He described you and the woman said “I think she was in here not long ago. She was with Dr Lincoln. He’s so dreamy”. Dean rolled his eyes. “Did you see where they went” he asked full of frustration. “Oh yeah, the poor dear collapsed in the bathroom. Dr Lincoln took her out. I’m sure he took her to his clinic. He’s such a good man. Always taking care of the people in this town.” The waitress said. Dean gave Sam a look. “Where is his clinic” they both asked. The waitress gave them directions and the colored drained from their faces. His clinic is inside the hospital. They thanked her and ran towards the car. “It’s okay Dean we will save her.” Sam said to Dean. “Sammy I can’t lose her. I should have told her. I love her. I’m just scared Sam. Everything I love leaves.” He said choking back tears.

Dr Lincoln arrived at the building and three of the vamps helped him get you inside. “She smells delightful. She’ll make a great addition to our family” one of the men said. Dr Lincoln growled “hands off. This one is mine.” They tied you to the chair and you started to come to. Your head was pounding and you were still groggy. “What, where am I” you asked as your eyes adjusted. You realized you were tied up. Dr Lincoln walked closer to you and smiled. Showing you his fangs. You gasped. “Don’t worry darlin, I’m going to take real good care of you.” He said as his brushed his hands over your neck. He inhaled deeply taking in your scent. Your heart was pounding and all you could think about was Dean. A single tear slid down your face. You didn’t want to die without telling him one last time you loved him.

Dean was driving as fast as he could. When they got to the hospital they took off towards the clinic. The office was closed but Dean kicked the door in. He and Sam searched every room. You weren’t there. “Sammy where the hell are they” Dean asked frustrated. “I don’t know. We will find them” Sam tried to reassure him.

One of the other vamps came over and took a long smell of you. He leaned down and smelled all the way up your body. He jumped back and look startled at mid level. “What the fuck” he said. “Uh boss, we’ve got a problem with this one” All you could think about was the girls who ended up dead because they couldn’t have a baby. This is it you thought. I’m going to die. You closed your eyes and all you saw was Dean’s beautiful green eyes and his smile. “I love you Dean” you whispered. Dr Lincoln came over and the other guy started whispering. “Fuck!” Was all Dr Lincoln said. I should have checked before I took her. I’ll figure out what to do with her.” He said and you opened your eyes. His dark eyes looking at you. “I should have smelled it as soon as I met you. Now you’re useless to me right now.” He hissed at you. “What, what should you have smelled” you asked with a tremble in your voice. “You’re already spoiled. You’re pregnant” he said.

“What, I’m pregnant” you whispered out. Oh my god. I’m pregnant with Dean’s baby. Joy and sorrow filled your heart. You loved him and would want to have his baby, but you aren’t going to live long enough to have it. Oh Dean, I’m so sorry” you thought before everything went dark.

Part 5

Forever tags: @nescaveckdaily @nescaveckwriter @kr804573 @jensengirl83 @k-slla @jackles010378

[outro-jo]

i don’t understand but i luv u

pairing: hoshi (soonyoung) x reader

type: imagine

warnings: crying, mentions of food, korean language

song inspo: here

a/n: please read info before requesting!

masterlist | info

some said it was weird, your relationship but it made perfect sense to both of you. from the minute you and soonyoung laid eyes on each other everything just stopped and started anew. colors were suddenly brighter and more vivid—well, at least it felt like it. the language barrier did make things harder but soonyoung assured you that it never mattered. he worked harder to communicate with you the best he could and you learned korean as often as you can. it was the distance that hurt the worst at times but despite the hour or day, you always found time for each other. 

luckily, you were able to work it out to see soonyoung before things got crazy with another album release and preparation for another tour. soonyoung was elated to see you again and hold you in his arms. the first day was filled with all the spots in korea he wanted to take you to. all the shops and restaurants that you just had to visit. the following day, surprisingly, he wanted to take you to his parents house to meet them. thankfully, joshua agreed to go to help smooth the language barrier challenges. his parents were to kind and welcoming to you. his mother prepared all of his favorite dishes and insisted you tried them all. you recognized the same warmth in her that soonyoung inherited. his father was more quiet but a sweet presence, opting to observe more than he spoke but he left you with words of approval.

“he thinks you will make a wonderful addition to their family. he wants to make sure you stay well.” joshua translated.

the two weeks went by far too quickly and sadness started to settle in your heart, but soonyoung had one more thing he needed to do before you returned home. with one more full day in south korea, you awoke that morning to a text: “please meet me in our studio.” with directions to the building. you quickly dressed and rushed down the busy streets. after getting lost a few times, you finally found the purple lights that led you right to woozi’s studio. soonyoung greeted you with a hug and ushered you to sit in the seat woozi gave up for you to sit in. the studio that once held woozi, vernon, minghao, and wonwoo emptied until it was just you and your boyfriend. across from you, soonyoung pulled up another chair, holding a note pad in one of his hands.

“baby, i want to play you this song. you inspired it.” he told you. 

“나는 기다릴 수 없어” (i can’t wait) you said showing him you had been practicing just as much as he was.

soonyoung gave a shy smile and looked down to the floor. he cleared his throat and set the computer screen up to play. the notebook he had was handed to you and you could see all the writing, what you assumed to be lyrics and your boyfriend filled the studio with his song.

a guitar riff slowly faded in followed by a steady beat. five seconds in and you could already tell it was a beautiful song. you recognized your boyfriend’s soft voice leading the first verse and read along with him. 

“When I saw you, on frozen space, heightened senses. When I only see you, my heart gets jealous of, even my eyes…” 

it was perfect. a song that of course was how he was feeling but something that articulated your feelings just as well. soon you noticed tears staining the lyric sheet below you, not even realizing you were crying. your heart swelled along with the music and you found yourself singing along with the catchy chorus. how did you manage to find someone so different from you with hurdles that would divide some couples, but it was the person you knew you were meant for. as the song ended, you noticed you were sobbing and finally looked up to soonyoung who was crying too.

“it’s so good, baby. i love it.” you cried before he pulled you into his arms. 

soonyoung pressed kisses to your temple and held you close to him. “i love you.”

“나도 사랑해요” (i love you too) you echoed his sentiments.

soonyoung did everything in his power to make the rest of the day special for you and the two of you shared a tearful good bye the next day. after you boarded the plane, you noticed there was an email in your inbox. 

“i’m always with you.” 🐯

you put in your earbuds and clicked on the audio file. the song soonyoung had written started playing in your ears. it played on repeat until you saw him again. 

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 1

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes

Synopsis:  When falling in love is the easy part where does the difficulty lie? In a society where we're defined by our job, it's those little details as a relationship goes on that ends up setting a course for whether or not a couple can make it in the long run.

Also available on Ao3

Alright, check it! Here we go, everybody!

The current rating of the fic is Teen and Up. I'm going to be going ham on a chapter by chapter rating/tagging basis because I don't want this baby to sit in Explicit until it is, if that makes sense. It will definitely become so in the future, but until then I'm going to rate it as is. Speaking of, when that switch does happen, please look for the notes before each chapter that will signal that. If you're reading on Ao3 you'll find more handy tagging notes.

Reader will be as gender neutral as possible until/unless otherwise stated. For my outline so far, this will involve sex and fem-coded activities such as make-up application and dress. I'll mark before each chapter if something is going to lean towards more of a fem!reader.

Otherwise, please enjoy! This is going to be a long ride so let's go!

Oh, please, not today.

Maneuvering around a corner, you doubled back to duck your boss. You could almost cry; not that you ever would over something so ridiculous at work. Looking back towards where you had just come, you felt the anxious sweat form on the back of your neck. This hallway only went in one direction and if your boss was already heading this way then surely he was about to run into you.

That was not something you could handle right now.

Clutching your bag tighter to your chest, you pushed off the wall to make a run for it when you heard a coworker call out.

“Oh! Perfect timing, sir. Do you have a second to look at something?”

You heard your boss stutter and your eyes went wide. Who was this prince that stepped in and saved your lunch hour? You wanted to bestow them with a thousand gifts, but you hadn’t heard enough of their voice to identify them. Shoving down the urge to peek, you listened until the two’s conversation slunk away. It meant the coast was clear and you speed walked your way down that now empty hall. In mere moments you were at the elevator landing and jammed the button with repeated anxiety. The display for which floor the accursed machine was on had been broken for about as long as you could remember. You glared at the black screen. It would only been busted on your level. Another tick to the record of your inefficient boss. You were so lost in your glaring that you scarcely heard two more co-workers walk up until the elevator chimed its arrival.

“Tell me something!”

Standing right in front of the silver doors, you surged forward as soon as they parted. There was an elderly suited man in the back and you tucked yourself right against the panel to hit ground floor.

“What’s up with these women wearing hot pants at the gym like it isn’t 45 degrees outside and then they get fucking mad when you look at them!?”  

Unable to hide the disgust on your face, you grimaced into the corner.

“I don’t know man…”

These two weren’t colleagues you considered often, but they had rapidly shot down to the bottom of your care’s list.

“Seems inappropriate!”

You soured further as you heard the old man chirp out a response. Three was far more than a crowd it seemed.

“What about you? You gotta have some idea, right?”

You felt a tap on your shoulder.

They were not trying to pull you into this bullshit.

Seriously, this was not the day.

You prepared a barbed response and turned to sick it on them when the elevator signaled a premature stop. You lifted your head and watched as a immaculately done up woman in a skin tight dress clicked her way into the elevator on daggered heels. She not only towered over you, but everyone else in the square. The tension was so palpable you imagined pricking it with a needle. You wondered if the woman could sense it considering she didn’t have the inane context. Either way, you worshipped her as the goddess she was for even unknowingly averting a confrontation for you.

When the elevator hit the bottom floor, you were the first to scurry off. You heard your two idiot co-workers start petty conversation with the woman and you marched straight to the many glass doors that granted exit to your high-rise. It wasn’t a breath of fresh air when it came to New York City, but it was certainly a reprieve. Still clutching your bag close, you strode down several sets of steps and onto a busy sidewalk. Hundreds of suits bustled and knocked shoulders with you as you settled into the traffic. It was a necessary evil that didn’t grate on your nerves any less. Parting the clouded thoughts as best you could, you looked forward into the ray of sunshine that sat on a lone sandwich shop. After several turns, that same storefront appeared tangible in the real world.

Your heart leapt at the sight. Somewhere in your bag you pictured your online pick-up order confirmation. You didn’t need it, but its receipt meant that no further fouls could come into play. Reaching for the handle, you watched through the glass as a gentleman did the same except his head was turned back to his companion within the shop. You reeled to dodge, but it was too late. The door flew open and clipped your shoulder as your failed to completely move away. You hissed into the sting and his sudden flurry of apologies took a bit of the edge off. You gave him a passing hands up gesture to pardon his transgression and he thankfully pivoted to hold the door for you. You heard a snippet of his companion berating him as the door returned to its stationary position.

Sighing, you fell into the shop’s embrace. The smell of freshly baked bread filled your nostrils and the thrum of patrons caressed your ears. You had eaten here a few times, with its proximity to your work, but this was the first time since they’d set up their online system. It meant you could skip the line and move right over to the pick-up counter. Straightening and finally letting your bag fall away from its defensive position, you headed to said post. There was no awaiting bag and you gave a little frown. This was exactly why you had your email at the ready. Reluctantly pulling up your bag, you rifled through it for your phone. Unlocking it, you watched in dismay as the email appeared only for the UI to refresh. Squashing a whine in your throat, you waited as the mobile data couldn’t seem to catch up with the page. Shifting a thumb to see if the shop had maybe set up free Wi-Fi along with ordering system, you heard an authoritative voice call out.

“Online pick-up! Club, hold the ham, roasted tomato, add oil!”

All the petty joy in your body surged straight to your head. That was your exact order.

Now this you needed.

You closed the gap between you and the counter with a near hop as the employee set down the bag. Your hand reached out as if an angel were serving penance and you watched in slow motion as another hand did the same. Confusion twisted on your features as you both clutched the paper in tandem. Your dopamine spike skittered to a halt, leaving you at a flattened emotional midpoint.

Not now.

It had finally gone right!

“Huh?!” The pitch was far deeper and had way more gravel than you ever remembered your voice having before. You nearly growled as your shoulders bunched up and you went into full on defense mode over your lunch. You turned your irritation on your would be sandwich thief and found yourself caught at the sight. Towering over you was clearly a mutant. You blinked out of your glare and stared openly. Instead of looking at you, the man instead gazed straight through you. You saw a bit of brow sat neutral against a wash of purple. He seemed encompassed in layers as a hint of green skin peeked out from between the purple and a black mask. It made the angular glasses perched upon them all the more apparent. There was a faint tint to them that you couldn’t quite make out from this distance. From there you skirted the edges of his black ball cap and down to his black wool coat. It framed the tight black turtleneck that clung to every crevice of his seemingly chiseled torso.

You came back to yourself all at once and found that barely a second had passed.

“I’m pretty sure that’s mine.” Thankfully your mouth still knew justice and held none of the awe that had passed through your brain.

Something about your curt response seemed to catch his attention and you watched in real time as his focus seemed to adjust to your form. With the mask you couldn’t be sure, but he seemed prepared to respond.

“Online pick…!”

You watched as the man turned away from you and to the confused employee who had choked on his announcement.

“Weird! This is… the exact same order?”

Reluctantly, you finally dragged your gaze away to the staff member. “What?”

“Some kind of glitch in the new system?” The employee posited, pulling the first bag away from both of your still outstretched hands.

In your periphery you saw the mutant move and pull out his phone.

“The order numbers and names are different…” The employee struggled and juggled both sacks.

“Simply a coincidence.”

Both you and the employee jolted at the mutant’s voice.

“I’d like my lunch now if you’re done manhandling it.”

The employee nodded dumbly and before placing both bags on the counter. He then made a scared show of pushing one in each of your directions. You caught your bags at the same time and you turned to see the mutant still scrolling his device with what you supposed was purpose.

“Some coincidence, huh?” You remarked, clutching your lunch.

The mutant gave a curt nod and you heard the employee retreat.

You were about to do the same when he seemed to find what he was looking for. In a flash of movement, his device fell in a slack arm and he leaned forward. You had no time to move away as he entered your personal space. You heart hitched as he reached out to your bag. Basal instinct told you to pull away, but curiosity kept you in place. You watched as a tridactyl hand passed the sack itself and moved to lift the receipt attached to it. From this distance you could finally see the color of his glasses; it was a barely there shading of blue in one and red in the other.

“You have my order.”

One of your brows descended while the other shot sky high. “So?”

You watched for the second time as his gaze seemed to struggle to focus on you like a malfunctioning camera lens.

“Just like the guy said: the orders are the same.”

You could only glean information from his eyes and they were set sternly to stoic. He bypassed responding and instead lifted his device. The screen was turned toward you and proudly displayed his own receipt.

So, that’s what had kept him.

“You had trouble with the internet too!”

In the first show of emotion you had seen, you watched one of his brows incrementally raise. A full centimeter seemed like quite the hurdle for him.

“I’m to assume you won’t give me my sandwich.”

He straightened and your heart sank the tiniest bit.

That was strange.

You knew nothing about this man other than he was apathetic and apparently a stickler for order numbers.

Still, he was the most interesting thing that had happened to you all day.

Hell, maybe even all year.

When was the last time you had gotten to interact with a someone in banal terms?

It didn’t have to be a long lunch to be fulfilling.

“How about…” You tilted your head to the side and did your best to peered into his eyes. “I give it back to you if you sit down and have lunch with me?”

His stare was completely flat.

“If… you have time that is?” You shoved the afterthought in quickly.

He rolled his shoulders and adjusted his sandwich into the crook of his arm. You watched as he then placed his device into his pocket and pinched one of his lapels. You continued to wait with ever growing curiosity as he then swiveled his neck to look out over the dining room. You followed his gaze for a moment trying to spy exactly what he was looking at. Whatever it was, he seemed to find it and his head crawled back to you before he gave a little sigh.

“You have terrible taste.” He said simply and made a slight movement with his neck for you to follow.

“I literally ordered the exact same meal as you.” You bounced in line with him as he lead you both over to a table tucked into a windowed corner.

He waited for you to sit before he delicately took the one across from you. His posture was so perfect it was almost laughable as he set his order on the table. In contrast, you heaved yours down and struggled to take your bag off. When you’d finally slipped it to your side, you rose up to find him still holding his meal as if it were a valuable item in a criminal handoff.

“Not what you meant, got it.” You noted, grabbing your order in a similar manner to indulge him.

His head tipped down incrementally and you both made the switch. He seemed to examine the contents while you, in contrast, shoved your hand down the paper bag to retrieve your parchment wrapped sandwich. You wanted to gripe about how he had eyes on the meal from the employee until now, but he hadn’t spoken past insulting you.

Oh, yeah. You should probably be more upset about that.

Your stomach grumbled as you dismissed the thought to instead languish in his curious company. Instead of fully unwrapping your sandwich, you peeled back the wrapper to keep your hands clean before taking a big bite. As you chewed you watched as he made work of flawlessly folding his parchment until his own meal was fully exposed. He then procured napkins from his bag and set his shoulders to finally eat.

“At least you’re aware.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up at that. He certainly liked to take his time to respond.

“Why this sandwich?” You took another hearty bite and relished the way the tomatoes burst with flavor.

“A club could be considered a base standard for a sandwich shop.”

You slowed your bites as he reached both his hands up. It was only then that you realized he’d have to remove his mask to eat. It seemed like a delicious cherry on top of your silly little scheme. You watched curiously as you noted that he had no ears for the straps to attach to. Instead you took notice of the poignantly sewed on buttons to his ball cap that were keeping the elastic in place. His head came down as he removed the mask and his green snout came into view. He then tucked the mask into his coat as if it were a pocket book and brought his hands back to his sandwich.

“Enjoying the show?” He kept his eyes down on his meal and seemed to be calculating the best way to tackle it.

“Yes, actually.” You hummed, swallowing your bite. You watched with tepid joy as your stark response caused him to flick his gaze at your momentarily.

He hadn’t needed to adjust that time.

“Do you have a mutant kink?”

What a return lob.

“No, it’s just been awhile since I’ve been able to have a civil conversation with someone.”

He finally picked up his sandwich and though you could see his mouth now, its tight line read the same as his eyes, giving nothing away. He seemed to digest your words as he brought his purchase up. You felt your hands squeeze a little too hard as his lips parted. Maybe it was your imagination, but it seemed to open a little wider than necessary and you got a good luck at the pricks of his canines as he bit down into the relenting bread. A tomato falling into your lap brought you back to your senses.

You cursed and switched to palm your sandwich with one hand to retrieve the red offender. A napkin slid across the table in your periphery and you grumbled out a thank you as you took it. Wiping your slacks and frowning at the oil that had already seeped in there, you huffed.

“Very convincing.”

It was almost impressive how much sarcasm he could inject into his flat tone.

You snapped your gaze to him and scooted closer to the table to prevent another spill. “It’s not an obsession! I mean you must know…”

He didn’t bother to look up and instead inspected the crescent carved out of his meal.

You gave him a few more moments, but it seemed apparent he wasn’t going to answer so you continued on. “What you look like.”

“And what is that?” Dropping his sandwich back to the folded parchment, he peeled back the top bread to examine the ingredients.

Though his question had appeared devoid of emotion, your cheeks flushed at the thought. You didn’t mind saying it as you had long grown past that kind of fearful shyness, but it still struck you how he was able to conjure up those sort of nervous butterflies when he didn’t seem particularly interested in you in the slightest. If that aloof attitude was why, then maybe it had been far longer that you’d previously thought since you’d had a decent conversation. You could consider the ramifications of it later. For now, it was a nice reprieve to be able to indulge in the sensation of a crush, even if it felt like the meeting would only last through lunch.

“You’re attractive.” You hid the little flip your stomach made by taking another bite.

You heard a little hum and chanced peeking at him through your lashes. He wasn’t looking at you, but his attention had finally been split away from his sandwich as he considered your statement. You continued to eat until, after a certain amount of time, he joined you. You smiled to yourself through a bite of turkey. He’d deemed it another non-response, but something about that was almost endearing. If he were anyone else you probably would be labeling him rude, but there was something about his aura that you found intoxicating in a mysterious way. His looks certainly helped, but you tried to see past the superficial.

No harm in being the reacher if only for a bit of fun.

“Earlier you mentioned something about a standard?”

There was a slight hitch as he brought his sandwich up to his lips. “That’s correct.”

“Are you like a food reviewer?”

You could have sworn you heard another hum, but this time the concurrent sounds of the shop made it impossible to be sure. You waited nonetheless and prepared a few other questions just in case this one also didn’t take.

“I’m looking for a new lunch spot.”

“Oh?” You gave him a once over and watched as he dabbed his face with a napkin.

“I’d been going to one shop for years, but despite my best efforts it closed down.” He passed you another look and your heart clenched at the sight of his eye line.

“You would be a creature of comfort.” Maybe another tease would bring his gaze back to you.

Unfortunately, you weren’t so lucky.

“Presumptuous.” He said in a manner that seemed for his ears only.

“Am I wrong?” You tilted your head curiously.

He retracted ever so slightly and it brought your elbows to the table as you leaned in. He stood strong against the move before finally, instead of only a flitting glance, he looked straight at you. If you hadn’t  already craned yourself to the table, you might have collapsed.

“It was meant as a negative. A note about how you venture to guess my habits based on so little data.”

This guy was something else. He suddenly reminded you of a computer. He was the embodiment of an analytic assault. If it wasn’t the way he picked apart his food and his talk creating a sandwich baseline, then it was how he seemed to be tallying up some sort of report on you.

Gosh, you just wanted to tease him.

“But am I wrong?”

If it were possible his level gaze became even more sardonic.

You couldn’t keep the widening smile off your cheeks.

He went back to his sandwich and you were starting to get a feel for when a subject had been dropped. Maybe a little data was just enough.

“I get it.” You dropped a new line in amity. “Everyone has a favorite place and it sucks when it closes.”

You didn’t get a sense that he was ignoring you this time, but rather had little to comment on the kindness you extended. It made you all the more curious.

“Why the club? Was it your favorite?”

One of his brows arched incrementally and the fact that you noticed surely meant you were just flat out staring at him. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to care or if he did, his face continued to betray nothing.

“No.” The rounded shape his lips made around the word lingered past when it left his vocal cords.

You wondered which of the two questions he had answered or if he had tidied both up in one go. You could almost curse yourself for not spreading them out.

“Almost every shop has a club sandwich.”

You perked up slightly, putting together what he meant. He had answered the questions in reverse order. You wondered what about them had confused his processors.

“Then why modify it?” Remembering your own sandwich preferences brought attention to the fact your lunch was being sorely neglected. It was still in hand, but you still couldn’t touch it as you found him giving his first emotion of the day: the slightest downturn of his lips.

Who knew a frown could do so much for the chemicals in your brain?

“It’s frustrating that something so basic doesn’t have a clear consensus.”

“Wha-?”

“It isn’t supposed to have ham on it and yet an infuriating amount of establishments default to the product. Plus that isn’t even mentioning construction which can be slapdash at best and I’ve even been to a shop that had the audacity to put an egg into the stack!”

You blinked wide as you realized it wasn’t just a frown, but something akin to anger. The way he bit down on the end of the sentence and then shifted in an almost imperceptible way to recompose himself made your heart rate spike. What a hang up! Your mind went into a flurry. You wanted to ask if he disliked eggs in general or just on a club. You didn’t even know his name, but you wanted to know all about his culinary preferences. Imagination running wild with the list, you imagined making his favorite breakfast after a night of-

Infatuation was a hell of a drug.

You squashed any further excitement with a tepid and, hopefully, understanding smile. “And the tomato?”

The way his chin tipped up seemed to say something, but you weren’t sure what. He opted to fold his arms and you found yourself unconsciously leaning ever more forward as you awaited his response.

“The cooking process concentrates what little flavor industrially-grown tomatoes have.”

You nodded, this time genuinely knowing what he meant.  

“And the oil to add fat?”

His tightened grip on his arms laxed as he moved from looking at you to a full on survey. Feeling very seen, you dropped your gaze and picked at what was left of your sandwich.

“Yes, it also enhances mouth feel and can combat dryness.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up. Though his own tone could use a little of that seasoning, you swore you caught the tiniest note of appreciation for the catch.

It was also entirely possible you just willed it to be that way.

“Salt Fat Acid Heat…”

There was that hum again. This time you were sure you heard it.

You brought your gaze up to find his squarely on your face.

“Quite the read.” He gave a single approving nod and you could feel cupid’s arrow shoot straight through your heart. If nothing else this lunch would serve as an emotional meal for at least a week.

You really needed a new job.

“I’ll take that as you changed your mind about my tastes.” You gave a satisfied smirk and moved with the the intention of finishing your meal off.

“Absolutely not.” 

His instant reply halted your hands mid journey.

“But you just…?” You trailed off weakly.

“Something can be said about your gastronomic choices, but that wasn’t what I was referring to.”

Did he mean earlier?

Was he talking about himself?

Your head tipped to one side curiously.

You watched him stare at you long enough to blink a single time before he returned to his sandwich. Remembering you had been trying to do the same, you followed suit. You were able to get through one more bite before another question chomped at the bit.

“How many shops have you evaluated so far?”

Under the guise of popping the final corner of your lunch into your mouth, you watched him through your lashes.

His cheeks paused in chewing before he swallowed. 

“This will be the 12th one.”

You gave a snort as you stole one his napkins to wipe your hands. He responded by reaching into your forgotten bag and replenishing his supply.

“You’ll just keep going until you find a suitable replacement?”

He gave a single nod and you balled up your dirty parchment. 

“How does this one rank? I’ve been here a few times before.”

He finished off his own sandwich and took to a careful process of folding his parchment further before depositing it into his bag.

“Mid, the turkey was nothing more than watery deli slices and the bread is particularly unremarkable.”

“Yeah, I can see that. The tomato was pretty good considering it’s out of season though.”

“Quite.” After thoroughly scrubbing his hands, he wiped any errant crumbs off the table and gathered up the trash into the bag as well. “You work nearby?”

You had been in the midst of following his table manners when you faltered and ripped your bag in the process of depositing a used napkin. Your lips parted and you almost wanted to ask him if you had heard him correctly. He had actually asked you a question.

“Yeah… How did you know?” You tried to salvage the bag as your mind ran rampant again.

Had he seen you before?

Were you really about to live out some kind of romantic comedy scenario?

“Why else would you chose the mediocre if not for proximity’s sake.”

Crushing your bag along with the ridiculous thoughts, you smiled at him a little too brightly. “You got me there.”

His chin tipped again, but this time it was down. You really wanted to map out all his little tendencies, but you’d need a notepad for that. You had the perfect one in your office, but that would mean heading out.

Your heart sank.

“My lunch break.”

The statement hung in the air as you left your trash abandoned in exchanged for your bag. Within a few flurried motions you pulled out your phone and stared in anguish as it awakened with the time.

“I am so late…!” Your voice waned and you looked to the mutant with desperation.

He seemed immune to your plight and moved to stand. Though you had long resigned yourself to satisfaction of the little time you’d gotten with him, the closing window didn’t sting any less. Squinting weakly at your trash, you dropped your phone into your bag and heaved yourself up. Gathering your things, you couldn’t help the surprise that passed over your features as you found him standing beside his pushed in chair and the mask back on his face, waiting.

“Thanks.” You mumbled off and he brushed by it as he headed for the door.

You followed him and waited your turn as he dumped his bag at the receptacle.  

You had so many questions once.

Where had they all gone?

You waited sullenly as he seemed to take an extra moment before he stepped aside and you hucked your garbage ball into the appropriate hole.

“And thank you for indulging me. Works been…” You trailed off with a grimace and a wave of your hand.

He reached for the door handle, but kept his even gaze on you.

“Let’s just say this long lunch is not going to help the matter!” You sighed and wondered if that angelic coworker could distract your boss with even more edits.

That would probably be asking too much.

“It’s just a shame I won’t be able to hear the rest of your reviews.” A bit of dry laughter found its way out of you.

Finding a grip on the door, he opened it and slipped out first.

You chased after him having a feeling he wouldn’t hold it.

“I’ll just be stuck eating the same old meh meal!” Twisting your bag into both hands, you prepared for the parting.

You found him staring down at you with that ever-present aloof nature.

You opened your mouth to say your goodbye when you saw his hand come up with a clean napkin.

You tensed and forced your awareness to your face in attempt to feel if something had been left dried up there.

“I’m going about my search in an orderly block by block manner.”

Twisting your neck, he pulled your attention with his sudden speech.

“I’ll be in this vicinity for the next few days. Your options might not be so limited.”

Finding nothing in his eyes, you let your gaze trail down to his hand. Between green fingers you saw the telltale scrawl of numbers.

Your heart skipped such a beat you thought you might go into cardiac arrest.

“Though I’m going to the next shop tomorrow, so do find a way to appease your superior.”

You watched in horror as both your hands came up to take the slip as if it were some precious artifact.

You wondered if he found it funny.

Or endearing.

Or maybe he already regretted his decision entirely.

“Don’t worry. Sometimes I think he keeps me on just to bitch at me.” He let go of the napkin and it came fully into your possession.

Even though it acted as a record, you tried to commit the writing to memory.

Donatello

XXX-XXX-XXXX

Curt and to the point.

Just like him.

“Also, I don’t care for idle banter. Only message me when completely necessary.”

“Sure.” Pulling the napkin close, you looked up to find him already moving away. You jolted at his retreating form before planting your feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

He surely heard your shout, but continued on unperturbed.       

NEXT

[shares-a-vest]

@steddie-week Day Five: Together/Established Relationship/Hold the Line by Toto

Steve and Eddie being in a relationship might be the worst thing that has ever happened to Dustin.

Demagorgons, evil Russians, Vecna, undead bats and dogs, government conspiracies and his cat being eaten have all been bliss compared to the sickly sweet, ooey-gooey, puppy-love, lovesick, utter grossness bullshit of Steve and Eddie actually being together.

Of course, he is okay with it in terms of them being two dudes. His mother taught him never to judge people like that.

Nope, that isn't the problem.

It's awful and just plain annoying because they are inseparable.

Attached at the hip. Practically living together in Steve's parentless house. Going everywhere together... Making everything about the other all the damn time... Talking on the phone when they can't be in the same vicinity... Eddie being granted a lifetime riding shotgun pass in the Beemer... Steve declaring that Eddie is his best friend...

And it is all impacting Dustin's life a little too much at this point.

He barges into Steve's house, not bothering to wait at the door after his knocking remains unanswered. As were his phone calls hours ago It's 11am on a goddamn Saturday morning and neither of the guys has work.

They were supposed to meet him at the arcade two hours ago.

Inseparable. But also selfish and forgetful.

He walks into the living room to find Steve and Eddie cuddled up on the couch (barf) and tucked under a blanket. Both are still dressed in pyjamas, a disgusting matching set Eddie had bought at the beginning of last Winter as a joke that they now wear unironically all the goddamn time.

Eddie (as usual) has his hands in Steve's hair, petting him like he's an overly furry house cat. And Steve (as usual) is on the precipice of sleep.

"You were supposed to meet me at the arcade!" he blurts out.

He probably should have thought of something better to announce his presence - something that would make them feel oh so very bad for abandoning him. But he is too distracted by the realisation that this relationship has also turned his best friends into senior citizen-homebody-couch potatoes. If only Steve was wearing the dorky old man spectacles he needs for the computer at work...

The pair startle a little but barely move. If anything, they look annoyed that he is even in their presence. They don't even look guilty or caught out! Have some sort of reaction - assholes!

"We're watching TV," Steve mumbles through a yawn, completely blowing over the plans they had made and now missed.

"Yeah," Eddie drawls, eyes glued to the screen, "MTV time, go away."

He punctuates his lame explanation with a hiss that makes Steve (now the chief of egging him on) snicker into his chest.

Yuck.

Dustin groans at the sounds of Toto crooning from the TV, whining when he catches Eddie of all people, mouthing along to the words.

Maybe he should just get it over and done with and call Hellfire for an emergency talk about their (decidedly no longer 'metal') Dungeon Master. They were already talking about it. Even Gareth, Jeff and George were willing to overthrow Eddie and replace him with Will if it meant some consistent campaigns without a fawning Steve lingering around asking silly questions - all an excuse to lamely flirt and grab Eddie's already-waning attention.

Although, it might be more effective at this point to simply disable Steve's cable access...

"What!" he screeches at the sight of Robin shuffling in from the kitchen, slurping away at some cereal.

She stops mid-spoonful, gawking. A Cheerio slops onto her chin before dripping down onto her sweater without her noticing.

"Hey," she mumbles through a mouthful nonchalantly.

She squishes past the lovebirds to sit in the empty spot next to Steve - which is basically three-quarters of the couch considering his proximity to Eddie.

"Why are you here?"

Robin shrugs, "Kid, this is the only way I can spend time with Steve that doesn't involve being at work."

"Are you fucking kidding me!"

Steve grumbles, "I'm not going with you, dude."

"But we made these plans a week ago."

"No, I don't wanna."

"Henderson," Eddie pipes up, overly stern alongside Steve's baby-whining ass, "We just want some peace and quiet."

"Can't we just chill out, Dustin?" Steve begs as if they aren't like this all the time these days.

Before Dustin can express his utter disappointment, Steve retreats into Eddie's chest and pulls their blanket up to cover himself completely. Eddie just continues petting the mass glued to his side as Dustin scrubs a hand over his own face, resigning himself to an arcade session alone.

Robin whines, likely annoyed that their communal blanket is now being hogged by a total traitor of a friend. She reaches forward to deposit her cereal bowl on the coffee table with a pointed thud. Clearly 'spending time with Steve' just means being a rickety third wheel that eventually topples off the proverbial clown car entirely.

"I'll come with you to the arcade," she says, jumping up and rushing towards him.

She rolls her eyes in the direction of the cocooned duo on the couch.

"Really?" he can't help but beam and as Robin nods, a toothy, even guilty smile creeps across her face.

"But I don't have any money," she admits, chewing her bottom lip.

Fuck it, he'll take it.

Dustin grabs her arm and begins leading them to the door, grumbling as Robin's socks slip on Mrs Harrington's shiny floorboards.

He calls over his shoulder, "Don't worry, I'll just find a new older friend. I hate you two."

"Fine," Eddie chimes, matching his mocking singsong tone.

Steve just grunts something Dustin doesn't catch, he's too busy listening to Robin launching into a series of complaints about the prospect of walking back to the town centre from Loch Nora.

Robin stops mid-rant as she tries to spin at the same time she hops into one of her boots, almost falling straight into the coat rack.

She frowns, "Did you just imply we weren't friends, Little Dude?"

Dustin pinches his nose, "Are you coming, or not?"

Eddie watches, craning his neck to peek over to the front door. When he hears it click shut, he flicks the blanket away and begins pulling on Steve's pyjama sleeve.

"Now that Rob is gone, you wanna get back in bed, Stevie-Bear?"

He is practically on his feet before he finishes talking, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Steve leaps up and wraps his arms around his middle, already setting about waddling them as one cozy blob towards the stairs.

"Duh."

[justplainwhump]

at work from the smut asks: i'm thinking of dany or peyton visiting the other at work during their fling 😏😉

Of course, Vic! Gosh, I love them during their fling. Their dynamic is just. Good.

[Just A Fling Masterlist]

(Peyton is Vic's character; this is just all build up for later whump)

Content: pure spicy flirting and (fade to black) consensual sex.

Montgomery Capital resides on the top floors of a skyscraper downtown, all sleek glass and steel.

It wouldn't be a challenge for Dany to get an invitation; one text would do - but it's more thrilling to get in without one. And these days, Dany is all in for the thrill.

A few well-placed soft smiles, nervous swirls of her locks and randomly dropped names is all it takes to get her a visitor's badge for the conference floor, where some real estate workshop is being held. Then, it's time for another demeanor - arrogant, confident and obviously annoyed at things not going her way, and the stressed out guy in the elevator doesn't only swipe his badge for her but even holds open the security door to the executive wing. She walks in, as if the building belongs to her, gaze skimming the names on the doors, until she finds the one she came for. The desk in front of it is empty; lunch break for the CFO's assistant she assumes, and just because she can, she sits down on their chair and checks the computer. It isn't even locked. Some strokes on the keyboard, and Peyton Montgomery's calendar opens.

Dany rolls her eyes. Horrible OpSec.

She puts in a do not disturb blocker for the next two hours, spins on the chair once, before she gets up and strolls into his office.

Peyton is sitting behind a huge desk, focused on reading something on his screen, and he doesn't even look up when she walks in. "Thanks, sweetheart," he says, "Leave in on the sideboard."

She presses the button next to his door that obscure the glass walls.

"Not your sweetheart," she says, and at least he gives her the satisfaction to flinch for a second, before his lips twitch into an appreciative grin. "Your OpSec is sub par. I could get all the way up here with just a visitor's badge and a pinch of acting."

"Oh yeah?" He murmurs, his gaze running her up and down. "I guess our security system isn't calibrated against femmes fatales."

"Seems so." She reaches behind her head with one hand and loosens her updo. "Now, what if I came with sinister intentions?"

He lifts his hands and rolls back in his chair. "True. You've got me, unarmed and alone."

Dany smirks. "And with a two hour blocker in your calendar, saying 'getting fucked over my own desk'."

Peyton's hand twitches to his mouse with a rare nervosity that makes her grin grow wider.

His shoulders loosen up a tiny bit when he sees the actual entry - xoxo, D - but the way his eyes narrow, when he turns back at her, both appreciative and hungry, lets her shiver in anticipation.

Dany stalks toward him, until she's right in front of his chair and leans in, hands on his armrests.

He breathes in the smell of her hair, before he meets her gaze with a grin. "Over my own desk, huh?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Don't tell me it'd be a first."

"First time with a trespasser." Peyton's hands rest on her thighs, thumbs playing with the hem of her neat business dress, slowly pushing upward. She's obsessed with his hands, somehow, with the way his hold of her is firm, resolute, confident, but never relentless. His touch alone makes her dizzy.

"For a seasoned criminal, your legs are sure shaking a lot," he remarks. She can't hold back a small gasp, when his fingers shove up her dress, cupping her hips and guiding her backwards until she's pinned between himself and his desk. "Seems like we better start off with you on that desk, huh?"

He lifts her up onto the edge, reaches over her for something, and she gasps when cold metal meets the skin between her thighs and her panties are swiftly cut off.

A letter opener, she realises dimly, when he tosses it back onto the desk, a silver letter opener with his family crest as the handle.

Like she's his.

Then his face dips between her legs, his tongue teasing just the right spot, and suddenly, just for now, she doesn't mind being his at all.

[devox2564]

In Your Heart: Chapter 5

Jake Kizka x fem reader

Warnings: tw for a slight narcissistic ex, other than that it’s a super cute fluffy Jake chapter

Chapter 5: Friends for Now

It's a little after 11am when you leave the relative comfort of your bed. Through the gap in your curtains, rain tap tap taps against the glass of the window. You dress quickly, throwing on jeans and a loose top. You pull on your boots and glance at yourself in the mirror. Should you put on makeup? You feel oddly self conscious, viewing yourself reluctantly through Jake's eyes. After last night you aren't sure how to feel. You've always liked Jake in a friendly way, and he's objectively attractive, but you've known him for years. The two of you have been closer now for a few months, but that doesn't mean that he's attracted to you.

You've never had to deal with this before. All the men you've seen or dated in adulthood have been explicitly romantically interested. There was no friendship there. No silly flirting, no tension, no prior knowledge of one another. This is uncharted territory for you. As you study your appearance, you decide that there's no reason to make a special effort over a crush. You've been to the studio looking normal loads of times. Your hair falls around your shoulders in its natural wave, and although your eyes are ringed with dark circles they are a bit brighter than they've been in a while. It's a bit startling to realize that you've been dead behind the eyes for weeks.

Making your way to the front door, you grab your guitar case and head out. The air is chilly, but the rain has ebbed just enough for you to make the walk down to your favorite cafe. A few minutes later with two steaming coffees in hand, you slide into the drivers seat of your car and pull away. The car was a recent purchase. A purchase made necessary by the now frequent trips back and forth to the studio that couldn't be made on foot.

....

You set the coffee cups down on a table in the corner of the room and settle onto the bench in front of the large grand piano. No one else is here yet. You pull your phone out and shoot a quick text.

Y/n: I'm at the studio, no rush :)

You find yourself eager for a reply, but you put your phone down on the bench next to you deliberately screen down. Raising your hands and resting them on the keys, you softly begin to play a few chords. It's been a while since you had the opportunity to play. Your mother paid for years of lessons before you'd ever picked up a guitar. She'd loved the sound of you practicing. Just before she'd died, you would sit in her living room and play for hours. For about a year afterwards, you hadn't touched the keys. Playing again had been an effort, but it roused happy memories of her. While the guitar roiled your blood and made you feel alive, the piano had informed your love of music and allowed you to channel your grief. The keys brought you immense comfort almost four years later.

Her favorite song had been "Merry Go Round of Life" by Joe Hisaishi. Of all the grand traditional classical pieces you'd learned, it had prevailed. You'd first learned it for your 6th grade recital, and she always said it reminded her of when you were still little. It was silly, but every time you sat down at a piano it was the song that you played.  Now, your hands softly move across the keys. The sound floats into the empty room and a soft smile plays across your lips. Your breath settles into a rhythm with the keys. You become so entranced in your playing that you don't hear Jake enter. Behind you, he leans against the doorframe to listen.

"That was beautiful." he says from behind you as you finish the song and you jump.

"Jesus Christ, don't fucking sneak up on me like that." you laugh a little and clutch your chest.

He just laughs and crosses over to the piano. "I'm serious, I didn't even know you played. You'll give Sam a run for his money."

"I have since I was a kid. That was my mother's favorite song." you reply

"She's got good taste." he takes a seat next to you on the bench.

"She did. She passed about 4 years ago, I played it for her nearly every day." You reply with a sad smile

"Ahh I'm sorry, I didn't know.." he trails off a bit.

"What did you need to show me?" you ask, changing the subject and offering up a smile that said 'it's alright'.

"Right, right." he says and reaches into his pocket. He fumbles around for a moment and pulls out a plain looking car key attached to an enamel guitar key chain.

You pause for a moment, trying to figure out what he's up to before you ask, "and what is this for?"

"It's a key."

"Yeah I deduced that thanks, what does the key open?"

"It's your very own tour bus key." he replies and you look at him confused.

"What do you mean Jake?"

"Well, you already know that we set the dates for our next tour.." he speaks slowly now, as if he's nervous?

"Yeah?"

"And we all decided that we want Wolfsbane to tour with us. Open for a few months and see how it goes." he's looking at you with a big smile.

The both of you are still sitting on the piano's bench when what he's saying hits you and you fling your arms around his neck without thinking, pulling him into a hug that almost tips the bench. His arms wrap around you in response and he says "So I guess you have no problem with that?"

"Holy shit are you kidding?" you're smiling as you pull away from him.

"I'm glad you're amenable to it." he replies and pushes the key into your hand.

Like last night, when you touch you can feel your heart jump in your chest. The air around you seems to thicken and it's like you can't breathe. Just as he pulls his hand away, his eyes flick to yours and you sense that maybe, just maybe he's also experiencing the same thing. You don't know what to say. You hold his gaze for just a moment, his eyes seemingly looking straight through to the deepest part of you. He casually (as if this is a totally natural) reaches forward and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, lingering a bit in the movement.

You smile nervously, and feeling a little bit awkward, you scooch off the bench and scoop up a coffee cup. "So have you told the others yet?" you ask, breaking the silence.

He runs his hand through his hair, the grin still plastered on his face. "The guys told them last night after you left. I wanted to tell you myself."

"Awww how sweet." you tease.

"You know, I thought that maybe, if you wanted-" he starts and is sharply interrupted by your phone.

The ringtone blares as the phone vibrates on the bench. He hands it to you and you see a number you don't recognize lights up the screen. "Give me just a second, I don't know this number." you say.

You plop down in a chair and hit the answer button. "Hello?"

"Y/n?" you hear a familiar voice.

"David." you say, no question in your voice. You give Jake a 'wtf' look, and his expression is curious.

"Look, can we please meet up and talk?" he asks.

"I made it pretty clear that I didn't want to hear from you." your tone is pure ice.

"I know that, but I love you and I know we can make it through this. Me and Jen are through for good. I just want to talk." his voice is soft and soothing. The way he always sounded after a fight.

"No David. We're done. I don't owe you anything."

"I've been through alot, I've been working on being a better person. I think you do owe me a chance to explain myself." you can feel the tension in his voice growing under the guise.

"You cheated on me. I'm not having a discourse about this." a proper stonewall.

"Fuck you!" the act drops and he's shouting now "I fucking love you, and you know that. I can't believe you won't even hear me out!"

"Don't call me again David." you say and hang up.

You look up at Jake, drained of all feeling. He moves toward you and you rise. You allow his arms to wrap you up and you lean your head against his chest. Neither of you say a word.

.....

Shortly after that lovely phone call, the rest of the girls had arrived and the excitement about the tour had cheered you up. Jake hadn't said much, just sitting by as you rehearsed and hashed out the details of a new set. Now, you were on your way back to your apartment. The rain had started up again, bashing against your windshield. You dash back into your building and across the lobby.

Reaching your front door, you pull out your phone and text Jake.

Y/n: Come over? I'm ordering pizza.

You barely get your door open before he replies.

Jake: Don't worry about it, I'll pick one up on the way :P

You toss your phone onto the couch and trudge to your bedroom to change. After a shower and a pair of sweatpants, you've cemented a spot on the couch. You're frustrated with yourself for wanting to cry. You're frustrated with yourself for not being able to power through on your own. The tears fall, hot and angry. They burn rivers on your cheeks as you sit in silence. You feel guilty for dragging Jake into this mess. You miss your mother and you wish she were here. She would know the right things to say and do.

Jake's knock sounds through the apartment. You swipe at your eyes, knowing your face is splotchy and red. Opening the door, you see him see you in all your fucked up glory. He moves inside to set the pizza box on the kitchen counter and then returns to you. He folds you up and strokes your hair softly.

"You know.." he begins

"What?" You say, devoid of any real feeling. Your face is smushed against his shoulder.

"I was going to ask you out today. Like on a real date. But I don't think that's appropriate timing. Might make me look like an ass while you're all sad." He pulls away and smiles down at you, his eyes soft and understanding.

This comment makes you laugh, a real laugh. Not a cynical one like you're used to emitting when he picks at you.

"Hey what's so funny? I'm serious." He pulls an exaggerated frown.

"Just shut up and bring the pizza in the living room." you're still giggling, and your voice is stuffy from crying.

.....

A few hours later after some pizza and a lot of garbage tv (you're working your way through the latest season of the bachelor) you're feeling a bit better. You're annoyed that the excitement for the tour is being overshadowed by an ex that isn't even worth a thought, but hey you're working through it.

You're both laughing at a clip of a blonde getting sprayed by a bottle of champagne when he turns the volume down and turns to you again.

"Not that I want to interrupt this very important viewing right now-"

"But you are so go ahead." You say still laughing.

He rolls his eyes, stifling another bout of laughter "I was serious earlier. About us going out I mean."

"Look Jake, I'm not saying no, but can we just wait a while?" you ask him, looking into his eyes for any hint of anger or frustration.

"Like a while as in a few hours or a while as in a few years?" His continued teasing reassures you.

"Let's just make it through this tour and see where we stand. I don't want to put any pressure on us. I like the way we are now. Friends." you say, hoping he understands where you're coming from.

You'd like to be much more than friends, but you can't risk losing him right now. You're still unsure about how the dynamic might change between you.

"I can wait till then I suppose, it's only a few months." He grins mischievously "but do you mind if I test out a theory first?"

You pause for a second, processing the question. Before you can reply, he's pulled you in. Your face is cradled in his hands and he kisses you. Softly at first, as if testing to see how far he can go. The kiss deepens. His lips move against yours, tongue barely swiping the curve of your bottom lip. His thumb brushes across your cheekbone and he pulls away. It's over well before you're ready as much as you hate to admit it.

"I knew that was going to be good." He's smiling.

You give his chest a soft push and you laugh "Asshole."

"Friends for now?" He asks.

"Friends for now." You say and lean into him on the couch, pressing the button to turn the television volume back up.

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We finally got a kiss guys 😮‍💨. This was a fun one to put together. Let me know what you think in the comments.

Tune in next Friday for the new chapter! If you’re interested in being added to a tag list, message me and I’ll get one started! Thanks for reading!

-E

[nursemimosa]

a preview of the first chapter of my fic series; Cadence Melody- which intends to be a retelling of the Scarlet/Violet story through the eyes of two librarians of Naranja-Uva Academy...

A sway of teal colored hair stirred on the pillow until the head it belonged to rose, groggily sitting upright. A croaky yawn and stretch, and the girl got out of bed, hoping her heavy eyelids wouldn't give in to the temptation of just a little more sleep. It was another day at her internship, and she couldn't afford to skip a day, or even arrive late. As she rubbed her eyes and headed to the restroom of her small apartment, she sighed. "I had that dream about the dress again…"

A moderate breakfast consisting of a sweet round concha bun and mocha coffee, sweetened slightly to her tastes was prepared by the young woman. She was rummaging through her workbag, a woven handbag in a splash of multicolored stripes gifted to her by her grandmother; her abuela when she noticed something was off. Just then, through the doorway, a Raichu waddled over carrying in its rounded paws, an inhaler. There it was! It must have been in her room before her orange-furred companion found it.

The woman took the inhaler from the mouse Pokemon and put it in her bag. She pat the Raichu on the head and it began to rub its face into the palm of her hand, nuzzling. She took great care to avoid its electric cheek sacs. "Thank you Maribelle, I would have forgotten this if you hadn't found it."

A Rotom phone began to ring with dulcet chirping tones. The woman answered the phone and it floated its way up to face her, the screen widening, signaling to her that this was about to be a video call. Good thing she had already made herself tidy and presentable. The screen blipped until the face of an older man appeared on the screen. "Raine. Am I coming through the screen okay?" the man's voice beamed through the screen with echo-y sound quality. She nodded and the man took a sigh of relief. "Raine, have you been staying up late again?" Upon being asked that question, the woman faltered a bit, then chuckled accusingly. "A little bit.. I have been having the weirdest dreams lately and when I wake up from them I find that I can't sleep. So to answer your question-yes and no. I go to bed early but can't seem to fall asleep.."

Their conversation continued, and Raine Cadencia; the newest intern of Naranja-Uva Academy's library made her way to work. The trek through the city of Mesagoza was brisk, with the morning air lingering on, even as the thick fog began to evaporate away. It would usually take Raine a half hour to get to the center of the city when it was as empty and quiet as it was now. The long, arduous (to her) trek up the giant stairway to the school took the wind out of her, and she found herself wishing there could be an alternate way to get up there. She contemplated on using her inhaler, but after giving herself a rest on a bench on the school's front yard, she got back up and went inside.

Raine was to meet up with her supervisor. During the first week of her internship, she was paired up to work with an older woman, and while she was assured that her new supervisor was friendly, she still didn't know what to think of her. As she was told by some of her other supervisors; the librarian known as Fabiana Melodía was a peculiarity. They had spoken several times, and Raine was sometimes rendered bashful by the woman's sunshiny, outgoing disposition. From what she had discussed with Fabiana so far, Raine had learned that she was a huge fan of comics and animated media. She was somewhere in her forties. She wore her make-up in a particular way, and always seemed to have her nails done. She also loved history books and Paldea's weekly Occulture magazine.

Funny that Raine should remember Occulture…

The older woman and her wavy pink hair, stray hairs by the plenty were bouncing along with her as she was situated in front of the Occulture collection with clown-like poise. She had been poring down the pages of one of the volumes with rapt attention, a serious expression on her face. She often muttered utterances of "Hmm"s and "I see.."s. Her cartoonish seriousness was so outlandish to other outsiders, with students and staff passing by her exchanging giggles and Raine couldn't help but give up holding in her own. Was she trying to bemuse the people around her? Nobody could really tell. In truth, this was the kind of person Fabiana carried herself out to be, on the regular.

"Rainey!" the older woman beamed upon noticing the younger woman's prescence. "You found me. I 'spose it wasn't that hard; these magazines attract me to them like flies to a Vileplume." She posed, turning around briskly, hands on her hips and looked towards Raine, who was now in front of her. She asked, "What's got ya gigglin' this early?"

Raine blinked, her face mottled with a faint pink. "N-nothing really. You must really like this magazine huh?" She could hear her voice crack when she asked.

"I love me some Occulture!" Fabiana responded. "And some manga. But that's only when I can go on break during my second gig." That's right, Raine recalled. Fabiana worked two jobs. When she wasn't carrying out her duties at the library, Fabiana was at her post at the cafeteria's register. It was curious to Raine that her supervisor took two jobs, but she wasn't one to pry. A brief silent spell followed, which was soon broken by her supervisor.

Fabiana blinked, then smiled, her face inching closer to Raine's and curioisty followed her. "Oh?" Her signature red heart earrings spun as she moved. It was hard to believe they were as light and hollow as Raine was told, they sure looked heavy.

Raine blinked even more then blushed. "W-what!? What's wrong? Is there something on my face?"

Fabiana giggled. "Pardon me for starin'. It's just. You're really pretty."

Raine couldn't bring herself to words. Were they going to get to even doing their job at this point or what? "Excuse me? Miss Fabiana… um…" she asked in her characteristically soft voice.

"It kinda just occurred to me all of a sudden." Fabiana remarked. "Your skin's really clear and it looks like you take care of yourself. That's important." She said this very matter of factly. It was very apparent that Fabiana seemed to run to the beat of her own drum, bouncing off one topic to the next.

Raine was taken aback somewhat. She had always considered herself very plain, somewhat average, always blending in. Fabiana did not seem the type to take notice of girls like her. Women like her, worldly, pretty, likely to have lots of lived experience; seemed like people from another planet. Her smile beamed with bright intensity, and it took all it could for Raine not to fold by how small and meek it made her feel. "Um.."

Fabiana chuckled."It's no worries! Sorry, I tend to get distracted a lot. Ol' Feef runs to the rhythm of her own drum. The archives room needs some help since they've been re organizin' it. Why don't we pay 'em a visit?" and the two of them went off, downstairs into a concealed entranceway where students and guests wouldn't be able to see. They hauled boxes upon boxes of manila folders and old artifacts that no doubt had some significance to the academy's long storied history.

The two of them were only asked to take care of the transportation of boxes from the archives to a storage room, so when that was said and done, Fabiana gave her goodbyes to her co-workers and Raine. No doubt, she was likely heading off to "organize" the Occulture section again, or so Raine assumed.

Raine was completely unaware of how many hours had passed since the morning began. It was now well past noon and the sun was beginning to show signs of cooling down. Her shifts were considerably shorter than that of her supervisors, so she wondered if she should spend the rest of it putting back check ins, as she had grown accustomed to, or seeing if the reference desk needed anyone to cover for them while they could use a well needed break.

Just as she was about to take a step forward out to the main library corridor, a voice from below where she had stood stopped her. "You're the intern right? Could you come here for a bit?"

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

Evening and a golden sunset now blanketed the city of Mesagoza with its gilded shimmer. Fabiana took a yawn, stretched her arms, and rubbed her hands and forearms, they were sore from the repeated motions of shelving ad nauseum. Her curiosity got the better of a greedy her, and she wanted to know if anything of interest was unearthed in the archive room. She went down the secret stairway to the concealed hall and found that Raine was on her knees, scrubbing the floors with a wet washcloth.

"Where is everyone else?" Fabiana asked. Her entrance was so sudden to Raine, that the teal haired woman nearly stumbled backwards into the bucket of soapy water she used to dip the wash cloth in. "Miss Fabiana! I didn't hear you come in!"

"Why are you still here?" Fabiana asked. "It's past 6:30. Doesn't your day end at 4:30?" She noted the bucket, washcloth, and a mop situated in the corner of the room.

"They're having me wax the floors, but its taking me longer than I expected to clean them up to prep them." Raine took a break from scrubbing and wiped her wrist against her forehead. Fabiana crouched down to meet her; both women heard an audible crack come from the pink haired woman's lower back as she took the washcloth and scrubbed in Raine's stead.

"You're fine with this?" Fabiana asked of her younger contemporary. "It seems like they're making you do extra work you didn't ask to do."

"It's fine…" Raine said with her soft voice. "I figured that picking up some extra grunt work would do me good… I want to make a good impression." Then, with uncertainty in her stomach, "I want to make it clear to everyone that I want this job.. that I want to be a full timer when I graduate." Her mouth trembled as she stood to stretch and Fabiana stopped scrubbing.

"I don't think this- this making you wax the floor of the room has much to do with that." Her tone was unusually serious. "I know the ladies who asked you to do this, because I've seen them ask you to take out the trash and file things past your work hours. Those aren't your duties when you clock out. They're just using you."

Raine blinked, unsure of what to say next. Something about her co-worker seemed off, like she dropped a facade. Fabiana continued, "At the end of the day, a job is a job. You should be able to go home when you clock out. You owe it to yourself to voice your feelings and concerns. It's okay to say 'no' to things."

"You're being picked on for being the new kid."

Was she really? Raine had gained a new perspective she wasn't conscious of. Fabiana had her put away the cleaning supplies, and reassured her that the archival team that was originally meant to clean the room would do it.

At home, Raine went to bed, the usually cheerful woman's stern words re-playing in her mind like a tape recording. It was true. Raine had spent most of her life as a doormat. It took the realization of the quirky beauty of the library to snap Raine to reality.

But what did it matter? Her own Pokemon didn't seem to mind, but they also didn't really see her when she was at work. Unsure of what to do the next day now that Fabiana unofficially relinquished her from floor waxing duty, she grabbed hold of her Raichu Maribelle, who was already dozing off, and joined her in deep slumber…

[wwooyology]

Left Alone | L.HS

「prompt」 : abandoned 「pairing」 : bf!heeseung x fem!reader 「word count」 : 1.5k

「synopsis」 : you and heeseung had been together for three years, but little by little, heeseung started to show signs of not being interested until it led to you being abandoned at the restaurant you had booked for your anniversary.

「genre」 : angst, fluff if you squint

「warnings」 : crying, cussing, arguments, breakup, reader gets stood up, mentions of alcohol, lmk if I missed anything!!!

masterlist ─ navi. ─ angstober list

“Are you ready to order yet, Miss?” The waiter walked over to your table for what seemed like the hundredth time, a look of pity gleaming in her eyes as she held out the little notepad in her hand.

Turning your attention away from the window where you hope by some miracle that Heeseung would show up in front of you. You offered her a sweet smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes before glancing down at the empty wine glass in your hand.

“Just another glass of wine,” you told her, your voice sounded defeated. She nodded before turning to walk away.

You tapped the dark screen of your phone until the time showed up. It had been about an hour and a half since he was supposed to be here. There had been not a single text or call, but as sad as you may be, you weren’t surprised. This was just the straw that broke the camel's back.

For the past two months, he has slowly started showing signs of disinterest in your relationship. It started out with his calls becoming shorter and his texts more dry. You had brushed it off as him just being tired from work, but it never got better, if anything it only got worse. Then it turned into him not putting a lot of effort in seeing you when he used to always want to see you any chance that he got before it went to him ignoring your calls and texts, even going as far as avoiding you entirely when you hung out with shared friends.

At first, it hurt you deeply, leaving you to cry into your pillows for hours on end at night. You wanted to confront him about his actions, but at the same time, you were scared to lose what you had because your mother had always told you that if you love someone, you can work through anything. So that’s what you were going to do, use this reservation you had booked for your four-year anniversary to ask him what was going on.

But just like the little voice in the back of your head told you, he stood you up.

When the waiter came back with your glass of wine, you thanked her before asking for the bill. She gave you a sympathetic smile and told you that she would bring it right out.

After finishing your glass of wine you settled your bill and made your way out of the restaurant. Just then, you felt your phone buzz in your hand, and a small flicker of hope bloomed in your chest that it might be Heeseung telling you that he had forgotten and he was sorry. But that spark was rudely dimmed when you saw that it was a message from Jake, your and Heeseung’s mutual friend.

You waved down a taxi and called the male. He picked up the phone just as you shut the car door behind you. Moving the device away from your ear for a moment, you told the driver your address before sitting back in your seat.

“Hey, y/n, where are you?” Jake asked. The music in the background was clearly audible, easily telling you that he was at a party.

“On my way home from the restaurant.” Your voice was void of any emotion, and Jake could tell that something was wrong.

“Restaurant?” His tone was confused, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. You found it just a tad amusing that Heeseung didn’t even bother telling his buddies about your date when he wouldn’t waste a second telling them in the past.

“Yeah. Restaurant. I was supposed to be having a date.” You told him, your free hand twiddling with the hem of your dress and eyes focused on the passing buildings outside.

“What do you mean date?” Jake was beyond confused because Heeseung was with him at the party, so who would you have been with? Then the other part of your sentence clicked in his head, “Wait, supposed to have a date?”

Scoffing, you held back tears the further you got from the restaurant. "Why don’t you ask your best friend?”

Jake felt his heart drop, and he told you to give him a second before you heard shuffling on the other side, followed by the sounds of a door. The music grew louder, and you guessed that he had walked back into the house. You then heard him saying something to someone, but you couldn’t make out what was said due to the music. Then you heard another door close before the music became muffled once more.

“Jake, dude, what the fuck? I was in the middle of a game.” Heeseung’s voice echoed through the phone and your heart squeezed tightly in your chest. He had chosen to go to a party instead of meeting you at the restaurant for your anniversary.

“No, Hee, why the hell did you stand y/n up?” Jake’s tone was harsh as he laid into the older male, “you could have easily told me that you had a date I would have understood. Y/n matters more than some damn party you need–”

 “Oh my god, can you stop? The last damn thing I wanna hear about is y/n. Y/n this, y/n that. I don’t give a fuck!” Heeseung blew up, and his words left a gaping wound in your heart, tears rolling down your eyes. “I am sick and tired of hearing about her and how I should be doing this or that; guess what? She’s not worth my time anymore.”

Your hand covered your mouth to muffle the sound of your cries. You wanted to hang up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The other line fell silent for a moment before Jake’s voice came through again, anger lacing his words.

“So you waste hers?” Jake tried to control his volume, but it was getting increasingly more difficult as he took in Heeseung’s indifferent expression. “You could have easily just ended things, but you want to be an asshole and just lead her on?”

“Jake…” Your voice trailed on, trying to gain the male’s attention, but he couldn’t hear you.

“Not to mention it is low as fuck to just leave her hanging at a restaurant, not only that it’s late and she’s in the city alone.” Jake really laid into Heeseung, who just stood there, his expression becoming unreadable.

“Jake.” You called out louder, catching both of the male’s attention, and Jake quickly brought the phone back up to his ear, ignoring the shocked look on the older’s face. “Just forget it; he’s not worth it.”

Jake wanted to object, but you quickly reassured him that it was fine. He then turned and glared at Heeseung once more. Then he turned the phone on speaker, wanting Heeseung to hear whatever you were about to say.

“He’s not worth it anymore, Jake. Just tell him that we’re done, and I’ll leave all his stuff outside so he can pick it up. But I do not want to see him anymore.” Your voice shook as you tried to stop crying, but the tears were endless.

“Y/n–” Heeseung called out to you, but Jake moved the phone away from him.

Your breath caught in your throat at his voice, but you quickly swallowed it down before speaking, “What you did really hurt me, Heeseung; like Jake said, you could have just ended things, but you decided to make me suffer while you led me on. So we’re done.”

Heeseung took a step forward to say something, but Jake moved away once more and took you off the speakerphone. “You’ve fucked up, Heeseung, and I can’t and won’t stand for it.”

Then, without another word, Jake walked out of the room, putting the phone up to his ear so he could talk to you. He didn’t miss the quiet sounds of you crying making his heart hurt, a sigh pulling from his lips.

“Are you almost home?” he asked, and you told him that the driver had just pulled in. "Okay, I’m heading over, and we can watch a movie or something, and I’ll make you something to eat.”

His words pulled a small laugh from you as you shut the car door behind you once more, “No offense, Jake, but I don’t think I’mma let you cook anything.” You joked, wiping the tears from your face as you walked up to your front door, “plus, haven’t you been drinking?”

“No, Jay and I were the DDs tonight, and I’m sure Jay can handle them,” Jake reassured you. You knew that arguing with him would be pointless, so you just said okay.

Once the phone had been hung up you dropped your hands to your sides, eyes taking in the area around you. Pictures of you and Heeseung lined the halls making your chest tight with grief. Trying your best to ignore them, you got to your room so you could change out of the uncomfortable dress you were wearing.

Then, just like Jake had said, he showed up, offering a bag of fast food and some ice cream. You both then spent the entirety of the night watching movies until you both passed out on the couch. The thoughts of throwing your four-year-long relationship out the window were saved for another time, but for now, you just wanted to forget.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.