#i almost started off a text to someone w this and was like no no thats too intimate and familiar

[badcountryofficial]

"Hey you" is so ridiculously sweet and intimate

[hischierhoney]

Just Friends

Jack Hughes x Best Friend!Reader

summary: You’ve been best friends with Jack for ages. He’s also been in love with you for ages, but he’s got that completely under control. Really, he does. Right? 5.2k words

warnings: alcohol/intoxication, non graphic mentions of surgery/blood/stitches, hospital stay, reference to Jack’s shoulder surgery :(

Jack finds you in his apartment kitchen, a black tie in his hand. He’s already dressed in his suit pants and shirt, and for once, he feels like hair looks almost presentable. You take the tie from him without a word, and you loop it around his neck, underneath the collar of his shirt. Meanwhile, he grabs your necklace off the counter and fiddles with the clasp.

You hum to yourself as you start to tie the tie. “Ready for the game today?”

He shrugs. “I’m always ready.”

Luke is there, too, shoveling cereal into his mouth and watching the two of you warily. As you loop the tie around your fingers, Jack slips the necklace around your neck, your skin soft under his fingers. He latches it, blindly, with expert precision, muscle memory. He’s done it a million times now.

You tug the tie into place and then smooth it out on his chest. He hasn’t put his jacket on yet, but you’ll fix the lapels of it, too. You take a half a step back and give him a once over. He stands, waiting for your approval with his breath held in his chest. It shouldn’t mean this much, you making sure he looks good, but it does. You reach up and tuck a lock of hair back into place atop his head, and he smiles happily.

“All good,” you say, dusting your hands together as if you’ve just finished a hard day’s work.

Jack squints at your face, spotting something, and he brings a finger up to brush against your cheekbone. “Eyelash,” he explains, and you hum, closing your eyes as he brushes it away. “Got it.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. “Come on, don’t wanna be late. And no cereal in the car, Luke.”

Jack rushes off to grab his jacket. When he comes back, Luke is dumping the last of his cereal into the sink, and Jack grimaces. You’re in the hallway, stepping into a pair of shoes. Luke turns to him with a smirk, and Jack shakes his head before his brother can even open his mouth.

“Don’t,” he whispers.

Luke rolls his eyes. “I just think you guys are-“

“You thinking is dangerous,” Jack says. “Save all that energy for the game.”

He walks away, down the hallway to find you. You reach up to fix his jacket for him, and then you reach for the car keys and hand them off to him. He grins and nudges his elbow against your side.

“You’re such a passenger princess,” he teases.

You shrug. “I’m very good at it!”

He’s not complaining, really. There’s nobody he’d rather see in his passenger seat than you. Your jersey hangs proudly from your shoulders, his name and number on the back, and it makes his chest feel warm. You’re his good luck charm. He just hasn’t told you that yet.

…..

Jack’s spent so much time convincing his brothers and his teammates and his parents that he’s not in love with you, that he can’t pinpoint when it actually happened. He’s not sure there was some big moment, some realization, some day where he looked at you and everything changed. You’ve just been so present in his life that maybe it was a sort of gradual thing. Maybe it’s always been there, and he’s been in denial since he was eleven and Quinn was teasing him on the playground near their house.

Now you’re in New York, closer than you have been in years, both distance wise and friendship wise. You have season tickets, because he’s playing in the NHL and he wants you at every game possible. You spend half your nights at his place when he’s home, and he ignores the funny looks Luke gives him about it. Honestly, he’s a bit tired of denying it all. He thinks maybe if someone just asked point blank he’d let it all spill out.

He reads the text from you and smiles- you’re on your way to the Rock, one of your friends in tow. He’d gotten you two seats for the season, so you wouldn’t have to sit alone. He sort of dreads the day you decide to bring a date, but then he wonders what guy would be stupid enough to go along with that. Jack’s cocky, he’ll admit it. He knows he’s good at hockey. He laughs at the thought of you dragging a date along to see him play.

Someone announces they’re ordering food before the game, from the deli down the street. Jack listens as his teammates put in their orders. Luke goes with his usual. Timo changes things up. When the assistant gets to him, he grins. He orders his go to, and then another, and asks for a can of Coke, too, for good measure. Luke gives a knowing roll of his eyes.

When the guy brings the food in, Jack takes his bag, fishes his sandwich out of it, and hands the other sandwich and the can of Coke back. “Can you get this to seat B322?” He asks, grinning widely. He knows your seat number by heart.

Luke sighs heavily next to him. The guy agrees, of course. Nico, who’s standing nearby, cocks his head in confusion.

“She’s coming straight from work,” Jack defends. The ribbing he gets from the guys will be worth it when he sees you after the game. “She’s gonna be hungry.”

“It’s a hockey arena,” Luke says drily. “There’s so much food here.”

“But she loves Krauszer’s,” Jack says, and Nico rolls his eyes. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t order her some?”

“Friend,” Nico says, drawing out the word. “Sure.”

Jack ignores him. He ignores Luke’s smirk, too. He eats his sandwich and finishes getting ready, and then he heads out onto the ice, knowing you’re there somewhere, probably sipping on a can of Coke.

…..

The issue, Jack finds, is that it’s getting harder to ignore the fact that he’s in love with you.

It was easier, before, when you were younger and he was more dumb and less aware of… everything. He could convince himself it was just puppy love, just absence making the heart grow fonder, when post high school saw the two of you split apart. But now you’re here, close, and yet not close enough. Jack wants more, and he can’t really ignore that feeling these days.

He’s out at a bar, team bonding, as Nico put it. Except that half the team is drunk, including Nico, and the only bonding Jack’s doing is the brotherly kind, trying to keep Luke from sneaking drinks, or worse, getting caught sneaking drinks. Sometimes he hates being an older brother. He’d wanted to come out, maybe talk to a girl, maybe take said girl home, or get her to take him back to her place so he wouldn’t have to worry about Luke overhearing. But it’s not really working, not with Nico hanging off his shoulder like a leech and Luke sneaking another shot, and god, Jack’s going to kill him. If you were here, you’d be keeping an eye on Luke, too. He wishes you were here.

He has a shot to take the edge of the annoyance off. Then he has another, and another, and then there’s a girl across the bar, smiling at him, and- she sort of looks like you, is the thing, but not quite. The sort of uncanny valley of it all is freaking him out. For a moment he wonders if hooking up with her would make it better- would get it out of his system, would scratch the itch. The sane, more sober part of him thinks it might just make it all worse. To have some girl under him and hear a voice that isn’t yours. Jack used to do this all the time. The thought of it makes him feel sick now. That’s new.

He downs another shot and passes his leech of a captain off on his problem of a brother, hoping the two of them will keep each other in line. Then he pulls his phone from his pocket and gets an Uber.

It’s only when he’s standing at your apartment door that he realizes he probably should’ve called first. You might already be asleep. You might be out. Maybe you have a guy over. His stomach does a somersault at the thought. He raises his hand to knock anyways- he’s come all this way.

You open the door with a smile on your face. “Nico called to ask if I knew where you went. Thought you might be headed here.”

Jack lets his shoulders drop. “They were annoying me.”

That’s not the real reason he left, but he can’t exactly tell you he saw the uncanny valley version of you and decided to leave. That would be… a lot. You seem to take his answer as the truth, because Luke is annoying on a night out, and Nico can be, too. Jack still probably should’ve told them he was leaving. He’ll get an earful about it. Oh well. The way you step aside to let him into your apartment makes it worth it.

He heads for the couch, and you laugh when he flops onto it, facedown. He likes your laugh. It sounds so much like you. He remembers the years when you were in college and he was far, far away from you, when he’d crack jokes on the phone calls just to hear you giggle. He presses his face into a pillow and hopes you don’t see the blush on his cheeks, or that you’ll attribute it to his drunkenness.

“Want food?” You call out, from the kitchen, he thinks. He groans loudly in response. “I have mozz sticks.”

He turns his head to the side and says, “fuck, I love you.”

He can say it here, in the comfort and privacy of your living room, in the relative safeness of the fact that he’s been drinking. You won’t think anything of it. You won’t realize how much he really means it.

The sound of your laugh is music to his ears. “Love you too, Rowdy.”

You don’t mean it the way he wants you to. That’s okay. He came to terms with that a while ago, listening to you say it over staticky phone calls. But you’ll make him mozzarella sticks, and you’re not upset that he’s here, so he’ll take it. He’ll take anything, really.

You come into the living room a few minutes later, plate full of food in hand, and make him roll over. He sits up slightly, leaning against the arm of the couch, and you lift his legs to sit under them. He doesn’t complain when you turn on some stupid reality tv show he hates- there are mozzarella sticks for him to eat, and the warmth of you under him, the weight of your arm where it’s draped across his calves. He can put up with the host’s annoying voice for this.

He falls asleep on your couch, half a mozz stick in his hand. When he wakes up, he’s tucked in with the quilt you’ve had for years now, a pillow under his head, and water waiting for him on the coffee table. You’re probably at work by now. He’ll send you a text to say thank you, later, unless he decides to just wait here until you come home. That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, really.

…..

It’s a Saturday, and Luke is out for lunch with some of the other younger players, so Jack’s fending for himself. Trevor, knowing this due to what he would call their cosmic connection, has seen it as an opportunity to talk Jack’s ear off over FaceTime. Jack has his phone propped on the kitchen counter, half listening as he cooks.

He loves Trevor- really, he does, but the guy could talk for hours upon hours and never run out of things to say. Jack lets him, because he knows Trevor likes talking, so he’s not going to be mean. He just chimes in with noises of agreement or disagreement at the right times. Then Trevor says your name, and he zones back in.

“I fucking knew you weren’t listening!” Trevor cackles, wide grin taking up most of the phone screen. “But the second I mention-“

“Shut up,” Jack groans, rolling his eyes. “I’m listening. I’m just also making lunch.”

“Right, right,” Trevor snarks. “Just for you?”

Jack knows what he’s insinuating. Honestly, as much as he hates to admit it, it’s not a bad idea. You’re not working today, and he could probably convince you to come hang out with him in exchange for free food. He’s bored enough to listen to Trevor go on and on. You could save him from it.

“Yeah,” he says, and immediately contradicts himself by picking up his phone and sending you a text.

He tries to listen this time, he really does. He cares about Trevor, he wants to hear what he has to say. He finishes cooking lunch, and then Trevor has to go, shouting something to someone in the background, and he hangs up. Jack sighs at the empty, quiet room. He thinks about texting Luke to see when he’ll be back, but that feels pathetic. Maybe Nico’s not busy.

His heart leaps when his phone buzzes with a text from you.

Lunch sounds good. I’ll be over soon.

He can’t wipe the grin off his face the whole rest of the day. You come over, and eat the rest of the food happily, sitting at the kitchen counter. He watches fondly and tells you all the drama Trevor just told him- screw you, Zegras, he was listening. You smile brightly up at him.

“Got plans for the rest of the day?” He asks, hoping desperately that you don’t.

You shrug. “Nope. I’m all yours.”

God, he wishes.

…..

Jack thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can’t really be blamed when it all comes crashing down on a Wednesday afternoon in April. It’s been coming for a while. He’s had time to prepare. It shouldn’t take him out the way it does, because he’s seen it coming from miles away. It shouldn’t, but it does anyways.

They pull him from the games and finally, finally, ship him off to Colorado to have surgery. He gets an email with the flight information, another with a hotel to stay in the night before, and instructions on how to book his flight back to Jersey after he’s released. They don’t want to book it now, for fear of something going wrong in surgery. Hockey teams are superstitious like that, even their travel management.

There’s another set of emails, too- ones from the surgeon, about his prep and things he needs to do and bring and what to expect from the healing process. He hasn’t bothered to open it. That’ll make it real. He just packs up some of his clothes, shuts himself in his room, and waits. He ignores Luke, then he ignores Nico, who he’s sure Luke has brought over. He ignores Quinn’s phone calls, too, and everyone else’s.

When you show up, though, knocking on his bedroom door and calling out his name, he can’t ignore it. He makes a noise that isn’t a go away, and you take it as an invitation in, which he supposes it was. You make a soft noise of disapproval when you see him, curled up in his bed, hood pulled up around his head to block out the world.

“Hey, J,” you murmur, padding your way across his bedroom. “What’s going on?”

He sniffles and presses his face into the mattress. “The surgery.”

You sigh and sit down on the edge of his bed. “Yeah.”

Jack’s not afraid of having surgery, really. He’s never been very squeamish, never one to shy away from blood draws or stitches or IVs. You know this. Everyone knows it, which is probably why they’re all so worried about his reaction to this. He doesn’t want to admit it really, but it’s you, so he finds the words slipping past his lips.

“Mom can’t come,” he says, voice raw and scraping. “Or dad. Too short notice. And- and Luke and Nico and Quinn are gonna be busy, obviously, and I just… all this talk about surgery all this time and I didn’t think I’d have to do it alone, you know? It couldn’t wait till after the season so I could-“

He breaks off into an embarrassing, breath stealing sob. You make a soothing little noise and lean down next to him, scooping him up into your arms. It sort of helps and sort of makes it worse. The tears flow freely now. It’s just you. All his walls are down.

“You won’t be by yourself, Jack,” you murmur, and he waits for the reassuring words, that you’ll all be with him in spirit, that he’ll be home in no time, that he’s never alone. Instead, you say, “I took some time off. I’m gonna fly out with you, be there for the surgery.”

He pries one eye open, waiting for the punch line. There isn’t one. Just you, watching him carefully, holding him close. He knows how hard it is for you to get time off right now. It’s your busy season at work. And yet, here you are. Tears start running again. The whole world goes blurry. You just brush them away, one by one.

“Oh, honey,” you soothe, voice low and soft. “You didn’t think I’d let you do it alone, did you?”

God, he loves you. And he thinks this might be the final straw, the last puzzle piece. There’s no denying it now. You brush stray hairs from his face and press warm kisses to his forehead while he admits that he’s scared, not of the surgery but of what comes after, of the healing and the rehab and everything involved in it. You draw soothing patterns on his skin and just listen, because you know him well enough to know he needs to get it off his chest. He thinks about telling you how much he loves you as he starts to drift off, but he thinks better of it. There’ll be a better time than this, tear stained and curled up in his bed like a little kid. For now, it’s enough to know you love him, in any way, shape, or form.

…..

Jack wakes up in a hospital bed in Vail, Colorado, utterly disoriented and freezing cold. The ceiling is this ugly grey color, just like the rest of the ceilings in the building have been. He’s spent a lot of time staring at them in the last 24 hours. He blinks, and the tiles blur and swirl, and he hears his name in your voice. He tries to hold on, but he’s so, so sleepy, so he closes his eyes.

He wakes up again with no idea how long he’s been out. He’s warmer now. There’s an extra blanket laid over him, and a hand holding his. Hm. It feels nice. He squeezes his fingers experimentally. He hears movement to his left. A plastic cup appears in his field of vision, and he suddenly realizes how thirsty he is. He turns, slightly, and finds you.

“You’re here,” he says, quietly.

Your face is a little out of focus, but he thinks you smile. “Yeah, of course I am. Told you I would be.”

He knows that. He knows you flew out here with him, eating snacks on the plane before he hit the 12 hours before surgery mark and he had to stop. You checked into the hotel with him, got all the supplies ready for after the surgery, got him here, promised you’d be waiting when he woke up. But now he’s here, post surgery, and you’re holding his hand, and his chest hurts in the best way.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” you murmur, lifting the cup to his lips. He takes a sip. “Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head gingerly. He’s a little achy, but nothing that would make him cry normally. He can’t help it, it’s probably the meds. He remembers crying when he got his wisdom teeth out, too. He tries to tell you as much, but it comes out garbled and teary and raw. You shush him, smoothing your hand over his forehead and pushing his hair out of his face. That feels nice. You’re warm.

“Okay. It’s okay,” you soothe. “Take a breath. It’s alright.”

He does his best. You help him take little sips of water, and eventually the tears dry up. He’s left sitting there, your hand running through his hair, and he suddenly feels so, so sleepy. He turns his head and blinks at you. You’re clear in his vision now, beautiful as ever.

“You’re pretty,” he mumbles.

He thinks it all the time, he may as well say it. Nothing’s holding him back now. You laugh, and your face gets blurry again. He sighs.

“You’re pretty,” you say back.

He rolls his eyes, but he smiles anyways. “Hmm.”

“Are you sleepy?” You ask, thumb brushing against his temple. He nods. “You can go to sleep, okay?”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He asks, feeling a little vulnerable, suddenly.

“Yeah, Jacky,” you murmur, and when he closes his eyes, he thinks he feels your lips against his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The third time he wakes up, you’re sitting next to him, eating ice cream out of a little plastic cup with one of the tiny wooden spoons. The tv in the room is playing that same stupid reality show. The host’s voice would piss him off if he wasn’t so focused on how adorable you look. He inches the fingers of his good hand towards you, towards where your knee is pressed against his bed. When he makes contact, you jump nearly a foot in the air. He can’t help but giggle.

“Jesus,” you mutter, shaking your head at him.

“Nah, just Jack,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “Someone’s feeling better.”

If he’s being honest, he still feels a little loopy. Your face is in focus, but everything feels a little softer around the edges. His fingers scramble against your knee, and you laugh, leaning close. You set down the ice cream and reach to tangle your hand up in his. That’s nice. He doesn’t get to do that a lot- hold your hand. Maybe he should have surgery more often. You smooth his hair out of his face again. It’s such a caring motion that it sends his heart stuttering.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, quietly.

You shrug. “What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn’t?”

And. That’s nice, but it’s not really what he wants to hear. He wants you to be here because you love him. He probably wouldn’t spend hours in a hospital waiting room for Nico, probably wouldn’t sit and wait for him to wake up. He’d bring him food after, when he got home, would help him however he needed. But to fly halfway across the country just to be here? He’d do that for you in a heartbeat, but he’s not sure there are many others he’d do the same for.

You seem to notice the way he’s staring, and you wave the wooden spoon at him. “You want some ice cream? The nurse said to call when you actually woke up. I’m sure she’ll give you one if you turn on the charm.”

He blinks slowly. “I love you, you know that?”

It’s past his lips before he can take it back. It should be terrifying. He should feel sick to his stomach. Maybe it’s the hospital drugs, or maybe it’s just that he’s been holding it in for so long, but it doesn’t feel scary. He sort of just feels relieved.

You smile brightly. “Yeah, I love you, too, Jack.”

He huffs. “No, you don’t get it-“

Before he can get another word out, the nurse comes in. He wonders if you pressed the button when he wasn’t paying attention, or if hospital staff just have comically bad timing. He lets out a groan. You give him an amused smile.

“Welcome back, Jack,” the nurse says. He reads her nametag- Nancy. “I’m just going to do a little checkup, alright?” She turns to you. “If you want, you can step out into the hall.”

By the time he’s squeezing your hand to keep you there, you’re holding onto him tightly, too. Huh. That’s interesting.

“She can stay,” Jack says.

You nod. So does Nancy, a knowing smile on her lips. Jack wonders if she sees this a lot. Guys with friends who sit by their bed, oblivious to the fact that said guy is hopelessly in love with them. Maybe it’s a common thing in hospitals. Maybe it’s not just Jack. That’s a nice thought.

He gets his blood pressure taken, and his pulse, and he gets asked to take a few deep breaths for what seems to be just the fun of it. She asks his pain level- a 3, at which point you break in and tell the nurse that his three is more like a five. She smiles at the two of you. When she goes to leave, Jack speaks up.

“Could I have some ice cream?” He asks, hoping the way his voice cracks on the words makes her sympathetic.

Ice cream does sound good. His throat feels raw, and his mouth is dry. And he’s starving.

Nurse Nancy smiles and looks at you. “What do you think? Has he been well behaved enough?”

Normally, Jack would take a little offense to it. But he turns to you, and you’re smiling bright, lighting up the whole room. His stomach does a somersault. He wonders if the way he feels about you is visible on the heart monitor, if his pulse picks up every time he looks at you.

“He’s the best,” you answer, and he melts. “Give him all the ice cream you’ve got.”

Ten minutes later, you sit there, holding a container of chocolate vanilla swirl. He’d been ready to eat it on his own until he remembered his arm, the surgery, the whole reason he’s here. He’d had to settle for letting you feed it to him. Maybe settle is the wrong word, really. It’s nice to be taken care of, even nicer when you’re the one who’s doing it for him.

He thinks maybe he’s still loopy, because in between bites, he pauses, looks at you, opens his mouth, and puts his foot directly in it. “I meant it, you know. I love you.”

You nod. “I know.”

He’s too far into this to stop now. “No, I-“

You interrupt, dropping the spoon in the cup to place your hand over his. “Jack, honey. Tell me later, when you’re not high off anesthesia, okay?”

Oh. He cocks his head, slightly. His mouth tastes like chocolate and vanilla. You smell like flowers. Like the lilacs in the backyard of his childhood home. There’s a light and warmth in your eyes that makes everything feel a little bit better.

“And if I tell you later,” he says, feeling braver than he ever has before, “are you gonna tell me something back?”

You laugh. It’s still music to his ears. You pick up the spoon again, scooping up a bit of ice cream. His gaze stays locked on you.

“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “That I mean it the same way you mean it.”

That’s enough for Jack, for now.

He tells you again the next day, waits a full 24 hours because a part of him is worried it was all some sort of drug induced dream. But you’re packing up the suitcases, that same stupid show on the TV, and he turns to you where he sits on the edge of the bed and says it.

“I love you. Like, really love you. As more than a friend.” His heart is in his throat.

You drop the hoodie you’d been holding into the bag, walk across the room to him, and come to stand between his legs. He’s holding his breath. You hook your finger under his chin and pull his face to yours. He thinks he recognizes the look on your face, from the kitchen when you helped him tie his tie, from the living room with a plate of mozzarella sticks in your hand, from every moment he was feeling all his feelings for you.

“Yeah,” you say, kissing his cheek. “I really love you too.”

When you kiss him on the lips, soft and sweet and everything he’s wanted for ages now, he thinks that maybe the whole mess has been worth it.

…..

He sits in a wooden chair on the back deck of the lake house. It’s mid summer, the week of the 4th of July. The heat is nearly unbearable, heavy and sticky and inescapable. Trevor and Luke are on the grass, throwing a football back and forth. Jack’s trying not to check the time obsessively.

Quinn, who’s sitting next to him, gives him a look when he picks up his phone again. “She’ll get here when she gets here.”

Jack rolls his eyes and sinks further into his seat. “You’re a dick.”

“Jesus, I know she’s your friend but…” Quinn is shaking his head. “You’re being obsessive.”

He hasn’t told any of them. Not about the hospital bed confession, or the kiss, or anything that came after it. The flight back to Jersey, his head on your shoulder. The way you took care of him before he flew to Michigan for the off season. The late night calls the two of you have shared since then. He’s itching to see you. It’s been far too long. He’s been scared to tell them because he’s scared you’ll get here and it won’t be real. He’s being ridiculous, he knows it, but he can’t help it. It’s you.

He hears it when your car pulls up in the driveway. He stands up, ignoring the look Quinn gives him. He’s not quick enough- you must’ve parked and ran inside immediately. You come racing out onto the back porch, eyes wide, smile even wider, and he could melt into a puddle right there in the hot summer sun. You’re brighter than all of it.

He pulls you into a kiss right there, in front of everyone, earning a series of surprised yelps and gasps and cheers. He doesn’t care about anything else. You’re here, and you’re kissing him back, and that’s more than enough.

“Fucking called it!” Trevor yells, and Jack laughs.

“We all did,” Quinn says. “Glad you two finally figured it out.”

You won’t be here forever. You have work, and a life in the city. But for now, for this little slice of time, he gets to have everything he’s always wanted. That’ll hold him over for the rest of the off season. Or, more likely, until he caves in and gets an early flight back to Jersey to spend more time with you. From the way you smile when you stare up at him, he thinks it probably won’t be long.

a/n: thanks for reading! have been wanting to write about Jack for a bit & he’s just so best friends to lovers coded. so here we go!

[suiana]

(yandere! doctor x gn! patient) (cw: nsfw, yandere stuff, drugging, bribery, dubcon?)

your doctor is a little weird, you think.

he's a nice guy, yeah. does his work well, always smiling and constantly reassuring you that nothing's wrong with you. sending you off with a nice pat on the back as he emails you your prescription yet again.

but he's nowhere near professional.

his hands linger on your body far longer than what would be considered appropriate. eyes dark and unreadable as you tell him about your lovely significant other that's waiting for you outside of his office. how he'd try and talk bout his own life in an attempt to get you to stay in his office more...

if anything, he acts more like a possessive boyfriend than your doctor.

though you suppose he's just a little eccentric like that. he's a reputable doctor. everyone loves him, and so do you! he's treated you numerous times and his checkups are always so thorough. surely you can just let his... odd behaviour slide.

today you're coming in for a body checkup. lately you've been feeling dizzy and warm despite it being the middle of winter. you wonder if it's because you've gotten ill or someone's poisioning you. after all, there's been some weird holes in your arm whenever you wake up lately.

your excellent doctor has scheduled you in at 4.30 in the afternoon. he was busy earlier today, he says. you understand, he's a busy doctor. your spouse hasn't ended their shift yet so you came in alone. they haven't been answering your texts since they left home earlier today. you can only hope that they've been busy, you'll ask them when they come home.

entering his office, you are met with his polite smile and his melodious voice.

"please sit."

you obey, sitting down in the seat in front of him as you fiddle with your fingers. your doctor looks rather... distracted today. his usually tidy hair is a mess, his glasses wet as though they had just been cleaned.

"it seems that you are feeling warm and under the weather. do you have any other symptoms, my dear?"

"yes... i've been feeling rather..."

you pause, not knowing how to say it.

"aroused?"

you nod. your doctor seems to know you so well.

he hums, going back to his screen before putting on a pair of medical gloves and gesturing for you to lay down on the bed nearby. you oblige. hopefully he'll figure out what's going on with your body.

he starts off normally, prodding and pressing against certain areas of your body. you answer accordingly when he asks you whether they hurt, whether you feel weird or not. it's like any other medical examination.

"so how's your lover been?"

small talk. you realize he's always been a big fan of small talk. asking about your life, humming and smiling as he replies with answers about his own life too. sometimes he says something personal about your life, like how you go shopping on saturdays with your lover or how you sleep with the lights off. you wonder how he knows, is he stalking you? but you shake your head at the thought. you must've told him and forgot.

"they've been... fine. haven't texted me back yet unfortunately."

"mn, i see."

silence washes over the two of you as he continues prodding and touching you. his touches linger, soft and almost as though he was yearning to touch you even more. his tone of voice was nonchalant, like he didn't care.

you feel slightly uncomfortable.

"um..."

"hm?"

"i-i... i guess i'm worried about them. ever since they went out to work in the morning they haven't replied..."

"i am aware."

you remain quiet after that, pursing your lips as you ignore the way his touches have you growing progressively more turned on. you figure it must be a side effect of your condition.

"my dear, can you tell me what you feel what i touch you here?"

"huh? w- h-hey..."

you let out a soft moan as his gloved hands caress your clothed thighs. calm down, he says. it's just a part of the examination. you shudder slightly, squeezing your eyes shut. you feel the warmth in you grow as he continues to gently caress your thighs.

he's right, it's just a medical examination. he wouldn't touch you like that. plus, you have a significant other already. you shouldn't be feeling like this because of his touches. it's wrong.

you exhale shakily, fluttering your eyes open as you stare at him.

"i-it feels nice..? it makes the warmth worse, doc."

"i see... what about over here?"

you let out a gasp, eyes widening so wide you were sure they'd pop out of your skull. where... were his hands touching? surely you're dreaming?

but you weren't. when you looked down, you could clearly see his hands on your nether regions, gently groping and caressing the area.

"w-what are you-"

"i am merely testing to see which parts of your body react to my touch. please do not worry, my dear. this is all medical procedure."

"but it's my-"

"shh... i know. does it feel good? what do you feel?"

you shiver under his touch, whimpering softly as you try sitting up. were you overthinking it? he's just your doctor. this is part of the examination, it's fine.

yet you feel as though his touches have a deeper and more sinister meaning behind them.

"please don't-"

"why not? i've seen your significant other touch you like this multiple times. you've always reacted wonderfully under their touch."

"h-huh?"

your doctor pauses, eyes widening slightly before he lets out a chuckle. his hands continue palming and caressing your privates, almost as though he was... toying with you. with every touch you feel yourself getting more and more worked up, cheeks flushing even more.

"oh dear, i haven't told you have i? i've been keeping a close eye on you... i thought you'd have figured it out by now. your lover certainly has."

you squeeze your eyes shut as his touch, your mind growing fuzzy. what.. did he say? you can't quite understand... all you can feel is how bothered you're getting and how you want him to touch you even more.

"i am pleasantly surprised with how well you are reacting to my touch. i never expected you to react so positively to the drug."

"d-drug? ah... no... don't grope me like that..."

he continues palming at your clothed privates, a calm smile on his face. you can faintly make out the way his cheeks were turning red and the hardening of his pants.

"right, i did tell them not to tell you... my dear, your significant other has left you."

"no... what are you... talking about doc? hah... how would you know anyway..?"

"oh, because i told them to. i gave them some money a few months back and they've been working for me up until... today."

if you were a little more sober, you would've pushed him away and ran for your phone. unfortunately, the aphrodisiac you had been injected with last night has reduced you into a needy thing desperate for his touch.

"what did you do-"

"well my dear, didn't you notice the injection marks in your arm? your significant other had been administering you with tiny dosages of this particular drug i've given them. it's supposed to make you feel good."

"g-good..?"

you hear your doctor chuckle, his hands moving away from your sensitive parts. only to quickly undo the buckle of your pants and slip his hand down on your newly exposed skin.

your breath hitches, hips instictively bucking against his hand as you let out a low whine. you can't think anymore. your brain is so muddled with feeling good that you aren't even worried or disgusted by what he's saying. all you want is him, him, him. he makes you feel good.

"yes my love, good. aren't you feeling good right now?"

"mn mhm!"

you nod your head eagerly as his hands gently toy with your sex, rubbing and fondling you gently. he continues smiling down at you, pleasuring you with his fingers before pulling away. you whimper, face hot and red as you desperately try and pull him back. why would he do that? he was just making you feel so good...

"haha, you want me to continue touching you?"

you nod again. your doctor grins widely at your words, taking off his gloves before you hear the clink of his belt hit the floor.

"well, i suppose i'll get on with my second part of the medical examination now then."

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: after a week of silence following the events that spiraled from your fake relationship, there's a knock at your door in the night. the sequel to wishful thinking, read part 1 here!

★ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: sylus

★ 𝐜𝐰/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: some angst (happy ending), really sappy make up smut, soft sylus, kinda sub sylus if you squint, body worship, female reader

★ 𝐰𝐜: 3.1k

★ 𝐚/𝐧: woot woot part 2 is finally here, sorry for the wait!! i had envisioned this being a two-parter from the start, and i wanted to do a bit of sweet smut hehe. you'll have to pry soft and caring sylus out of my dead cold hands that man is needy and obsessed w mc :(

It had been a week.

A week of nothing, absolute silence. No calls, no texts. It slowly became as if Sylus never even existed.

It was hell at first. My feelings had come on so fast, and then just like that it was over in the blink of an eye. The game of it all, will they or won’t they find out, the lies, the fun. It was exciting, until I started to get hurt; and I wasn’t going to put my own feelings and misery aside at the expense of everyone else.

Slowly, but surely, the days got easier. I had a break from work where I could take the time to put myself back together, though the band aids didn’t heal the wounds. They just helped to ease the ache.

I started to move on. It had been a week; I was going to go back to work, and act as if none of this ever happened.

Then there was a knock at the door.

It came in the middle of the night, and I just assumed it was one of my neighbors telling me to turn my TV down, or Xavier dropping off a game he had borrowed.

When I opened it, outside in the complex's hallway stood a sopping wet Sylus, drenched from the storm outside. His silver hair was messy, sticking to his forehead, his clothes disheveled as if he had thrown them on in a rush. A look of desperation resided on his face, replacing his usual calm and smug demeanor.

Not seeing him for a week was not something out of the blue, but the big bad leader showing up at my doorstep shivering like a wet cat was. Especially after everything that happened.

My heart felt like it lurched out of my chest, and all the bandages I had tried wrapping around it came loose in one swift movement. All the healing I had done flew outside the door I had opened and stood beside Sylus, mocking me.

I almost slammed the door closed, angry at his audacity, showing up at my place in the heat of the night after not speaking to me. Angry at everything that happened. Angry, hurt.

A whisper of my name escaped his lips, and I froze. It wasn’t often he called me by my name, only addressing me with his usual pet names.

“What are you doing here?” I questioned, hesitant about this whole exchange.

He glared at me, “That’s no way to speak to someone in distress.”

Angry.

I went to shut the door in his face, pissed off and violent, but he stopped it with his hand.

“Wait, I’m sorry.” The apology felt foreign coming out of him, “Can I come in?”

The look on his face went soft, and it almost looked as if he was going to cry. Everything about this was so out of character for him, and if I wasn’t so angry, maybe I’d even feel sorry for him.

Without a word, I pulled the door back open, stepping aside for him to come in. He was obviously cold, and it seemed like was trying his hardest to keep himself together.

“Don’t sit on the couch, you’re wet.” Maybe I was being mean, maybe he was undeserving of my anger, maybe letting him in was a mistake. I sighed, “Sylus, why are you here?”

“You’ve been ignoring me.” His words were hard, and his stare was piercing. Normally I would feel uncomfortable under his gaze, but the exasperation I felt from his words outweighed that.

I scoffed, “I’ve been ignoring you? You haven’t reached out, what was there to ignore?”

“You’ve been ignoring me, you’ve been pulling back. I know you know I’m not stupid, kitten.”

He was right, he wasn’t stupid. When I started pulling away, he started pushing harder, and I could tell he knew I was almost done.

“Okay?” I crossed my arms, avoiding his eyes, “Then you started ignoring me. We’re even.”

“No.” He shot out, taking a step towards me, “That’s not how that works. I was waiting for anything from you, but it never came.”

“What did I do? What did I do wrong?” Sylus tilted his head forward, and I started to finally feel guilty. All of this was so different for him, when Sylus was upset he became mean, aggressive. He put up walls, started fights. For him to be so…pitiful, where was all of this coming from?

“I don’t understand what you mean-” He cut me off with a forced laugh, “You don’t understand? I don’t know how much more obvious I can be, sweetie.”

“Okay,” He paused, “I love you.”

My heart stopped. For a second, the world stopped spinning. It’s like everything, all at once, came to a halt with Sylus’ confession.

“You…love me?” The words tasted bitter on my tongue. This was not how this was supposed to go. I loved him, that’s why I had to stop all of this, so it didn’t continue. It couldn’t continue. He cannot love me back.

“Why else do you think I threw myself into all of that? Why do you think I didn’t want anybody else to do it? Because I was bored? I have plenty of other things to do in my spare time.” His voice was hoarse, almost pleading for me to understand.

“Sylus, I-”

“For a second, I thought you loved me too.” Sylus sounded desperate, “But then you pulled back. You disappeared.”

He grabbed my hands, “Tell me, sweetie, what did I do wrong?”

“You love me.” I whispered, “That’s what you did wrong.”

Sylus let go, taking a step back. He ran his hand through his hair, a sorry attempt to pull himself back together, “I apologize,” He said, “I misunderstood this then.”

I looked at him, his appearance disordered and disheartened. The once prideful and arrogant man was now broken down to nothing but a shell of himself, and I realized the cause of that was me. Sylus was never one to back down from a fight, yet here he was throwing up a white flag.

He went to leave, turning his back to me. Turning his back to whatever was happening, breaking the character I had come to know. Going down without a fight. This broken man wasn’t Sylus.

“I love you too.” The words came out rushed, in a hurry to stop him. Announcing my own declaration of love wasn’t something I had intended to do, planning to keep it inside for all of eternity, letting the poisonous feeling bubble inside until it ate me alive.

Sylus stopped in his tracks.

“Then why is this wrong?” He didn’t turn back around to face me, and I wasn’t sure I wanted him to. I’d crumble and fall if I saw his eyes.

“It would never work,” I let it all out, everything I had been holding in for so long, all the insecurities I had collected regarding any kind of relationship I could have with Sylus. “I’m a hunter, and you’re the head of Onychinus. We’re in two different worlds, living such different lives, it’s doomed. All of this is doomed.”

“Do you really think I care?”

His fingers suddenly gripped my chin with a possessive hold, as if he thought I might run off again. Trying to pull myself away, his grip tightened on my face, as well as the hold he had on my heart.

“It doesn’t matter if you care or not,” I gave him a weak glare, trying to scare him off, “don’t be selfish, Sylus. We’ll both just get hurt.”

Sylus lips twitched downwards, “I think you should allow yourself to be selfish for once.” His grasp left my face, “Do what you please.”

We stood in silence for a second, and I set my gaze upon the floor to avoid his stare, his red eyes penetrating my soul.

“What are you thinking?” He finally asked. I hesitated, not exactly sure what the right answer really was. I could continue to fight this feeling, or jump into the water.

“I’m scared.” I confessed, “I don’t want to get hurt. I can’t go through all of that, all of the heartache when things go wrong.”

“Now why do you think I would ever let that happen, sweetie?”

Sylus grabbed my hand, placing it against his heart, “This beats for you, I live for you.” I felt the quick, erratic rhythm of his heartbeat under my fingers, “I never stop missing you when you’re not around, every second you’re not beside me is misery.”

“I'll love you until my last breath, and even in the heavens too.” He pulls my hand up, placing a kiss against my palm, “I will never let anything happen to you, I could never live with myself if I hurt you.”

He kisses the back of my hand, my wrist, all the way up my arm to my collarbone, “I will do anything to make this work - if this falls apart, I’ll just put it back together. I need you by my side.”

I feel his soft breathing against the crook of my neck, and goosebumps rise on my skin. I want to fall into him, let myself become loose in his embrace and learn to trust his promises.

“But if you don’t want it, just say that.” Sylus presses one last kiss to the skin of my neck, “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll leave through that door, and I won’t bother you again.”

“Sylus…” I can only manage a whisper of his name. Everything else gets caught in my throat, my mind a tangled mess of emotions.

His face is inches from mine, and he quickly gives me an amused smile, “That's not a no.”

Before I can respond, even think of something to say, he captures my lips with his own. The strong smell of his cologne mixed with the taste of his mouth against mine makes me dizzy. The room and everything in it has suddenly become so warm, and my skin feels as if it’s been lit on fire.

Sylus pushes my body up against the wall behind us, hands trailing up my curves, grabbing at anything he can. His fingers embed themselves in my hips, waist, thighs, trying to pull me any closer.

“I’ll ask you again, sweetie,” He pulls away and I’m left standing there breathless with an unwavering grip on his (still) damp sweater, “do you want me to stop?”

I tangle my fingers in his wet hair, bringing his face back down to mine.

“No.” I whisper against Sylus’ lips, before crashing mine against his feverishly. Every feeling I had for him, everything I had suppressed, all of it was going into this kiss. He groaned into my mouth, his hold on me becoming tighter.

It all made perfect sense; The way our lips moved in sync, how our bodies fit perfectly together, our minds addicted to the thoughts of one another. We were, to put it simply, made for this. Our souls intertwined with ease as we found solace and safety in each other. All of the fear I had been plagued with dissipated with the consolation of Sylus’ body against mine. I was no longer scared of this not working, all I cared about was him.

After all, even a broken clock is right twice a day.

With one swift movement Sylus lifted me off my feet and cradled me with ease, maneuvering around my apartment as if it was his own.

Before I could even register I was in my bedroom, I was pinned against the mattress in the safe confine of his arms.

“Please,” His breathing was ragged, “let me show you how well I can treat you, let me touch you how you deserve.”

I lean up and kiss him between his furrowed brows, and he takes the opportunity to dive for my neck.

“Please.” Sylus repeats again. His eyes are practically begging. I give him a nod.

Stripping me of my shirt, he places gentle kisses down my torso down to the waistband of my shorts. Goosebumps rise on my skin from the cold air mixed with his gentle touch. His rough, calloused hands hold my hips like glass, a finger slowly pulling my shorts off my legs. A hiss of air leaves his lungs when Sylus sits back to take me in.

“Fuck.” He whispers, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for... Thought about having you like this.”

I give him a sheepish smile, “Is it worth the wait?”

His adams apple bobs in his throat as he swallows whatever words were going to leave his lips, running his hands up my thighs and waist. Sylus’ eyes travel up my figure, almost as if memorizing every dip and curve of my body.

“Every single second was worth it.” His voice was soft, “You’re perfect.”

Sylus leans down, pressing his lips to the bone where my hips and pelvis meet. He picks my leg up, lightly lifting it over his shoulder, resting his head on the inside of my thigh and looking up at me through his eyelashes.

He looks angelic, pure almost, glowing in the moonlight that spills through the window. His dominant, hard-bitten and arrogant exterior had disintegrated into nothing but his surrender as he lay open and bare for me in between my legs. All the walls I knew Sylus to have crumbled and fell, his only goal to show me that I’m loved; serving to please.

The tip of one of his fingers slides up my slit, and my breath catches in my throat. Sylus pauses, “Is this okay?”

“More than okay.” I confirm.

He quickly discards the cloth separating him from the heat in between my thighs, placing a gentle kiss to the place that craves him the most.

A moan escapes me as his lips latch onto my clit. My hands weave themselves through his hair, “Oh God, Sy- Do that again-”

Sylus groans into my core, worshiping the sex and heart that weeps for him, and only him. I twitch my hips towards his face, my mind reeling with the feeling that emits from his mouth.

“Yes-” He pushes a finger into me, easing the ache deep inside, “Be greedy, kitten, use me as you wish.”

I can only manage whimpers of his name, my brain incoherent and high on his mouth and touch as his tongue and fingers work magic. Tugging on the silver strands that grace his pretty head, the moan that leaves him vibrates against me, and I think for a second I might be done for.

“Mm, Sylus, wait-”

“That’s it, sweetie. Getting close?” His fingers curl up inside me and I shake my head, not wanting to finish so soon, “No, I-”

He pulls back and sits up as soon as the word leaves me, and I almost sob at the loss of contact. Sylus’ eyes scan my face with concern, and I pull him back down on top of me. His chest heaving against mine, he plants a kiss to the corner of my eye, “I thought I-”

“Not yet, fuck me.” Cutting him off, I push my body up against his.

“Of course, kitten,” Within seconds his pants and briefs were discarded somewhere in the room, my thighs instinctively wrapping around his hips, “who am I to deny you?”

His hard length pressed up against my entrance, the desperation making me crazy.

“Sylus, please-” I tried to push my hips forward, longing for more. He cupped my cheek, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, inching deeper agonizingly slow, “Patience, sweetie. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t!” Despite my reassurance, Sylus’ eyes were still filled with worry. Using my legs that were wrapped around him, I yanked his hips forward and with one fell swoop he was to the hilt inside.

Spasming around him at the sudden fullness, I sunk my teeth into his collarbone to stifle a scream. I could feel myself gripping him like a vice, his moaning and panting in my ear a sweet confirmation.

“I told you I could do it.” I lapped at the broken skin where I had bitten.

Sylus laughed lowly against my lips, “I didn’t mean to doubt you, kitten.”

The movement of his hips were rhythmic, every thrust sending me deeper into a spiral of love and pleasure. My thoughts were nothing but static, only focusing on the beautiful man in front of me and how good he was capable of making me feel.

His own moans were strangled, groaning praises and muttering sweet nothings into my ear. Sylus thrusted deeply into me, tightly holding my hand as if he thought I and this moment were going to disappear. His eyes would snap open and flutter closed with every movement, relishing in the feeling of our bodies together.

My skin was electric, fireworks setting off in every corner of my being. My mind spun with the addictive feeling and taste of Sylus’ sweet lips on mine, his fingers digging into my hips.

He and I together were not doomed, though us being apart was. We were magnetic, velcro, sworn to be together. We were aligned in ways I wasn’t sure was even possible.

“Tell me again that you love me,” Sylus trapped my head in between his arms, “tell me that this is okay and you want it.” His eyes were misty, his voice hoarse.

“I love you.” I mewled as his thrusts were getting faster, harder.

“I can be good for you, I’ll take care of you, please just let me be yours. Please be mine, let me have this.”

The familiar feeling rose inside, and I knew I was close, “Yes, Sy- I’m all yours.”

“I love you, I love you, I love- Fuck-” His hips snapped against mine at a pace that had me seeing stars, “My girl, you’re my girl. Mine-”

His girl.

I came undone with a loud moan of Sylus’ name, scratching my fingers sharply down his back, arching myself deep against him. His hips stuttered against mine, reaching his own high. Wrapping each other in our arms, trying to pull one another any impossibly closer. So close our souls could touch.

I didn’t just want Sylus, no, I needed him. It wasn’t until I found him that I discovered the large, empty sorrowful space that resided in my life. A space that I was always too scared to confront, a space that he fit into so perfectly.

Some force in this massive universe decided to pair me with him, to make me his, and I was tired of being scared and ignoring it.

“I love you, Sylus.”

(divider by cafekitsune)

tag list!! ty all for the support <3

@crowskitten22 @peacedreamer14 @phantom-101 @evilldentists @ionlypartiallyslay @fealy @sellelqvz @huachengnism @mandysfanfics @shiorihoshino @sinnamon-bunn @knifep-rty @l0bulariia @knifep-rty @yoyach @ononpetitecroissant @syluslittlecrows @beewilko @unbetirtlt @sylus-crow

[sonotpattismith]

ruin it all over

pairing: tattoo artist!sukuna x ballerina!reader word count: 12.9k content: angst, insecurity, feelings of worthlessness, reader low-key crashing out, hurt w/comfort, loss of virginity, there's a happy ending here somewhere pls bear w/ me, smut, 18+ a/n: continuation of where I first saw you

Ryomen was a guarded guy. Sure— he was getting a little better at the small talk he once thought was so pointless, but it was only because you always seemed genuinely enthralled to hear about what kind of cereal he ate that morning or what song he was listening to on the car ride to work (even though you had no clue who the artists were that he would name, but you were keeping a running playlist). He tried, but it certainly didn’t come naturally to him. 

No, because it was much more entertaining for him to listen to your sickeningly sweet voice ramble on and on about the exam you almost missed because you were trying to give a stray campus cat your leftover egg salad sandwich, or how you started keeping tins of actual cat food in your bag  just in case even though the critters never seemed to appear when you were actually prepared for them.

The silent man would go about whatever he was doing— closing up the shop with you perched on the counter awaiting him, cleaning his car as you sat in the passenger seat pretending not to stare at the way the sweat clung to his bulging arms as he wiped down the dashboard, shaving his face as your voice fluttered through his phone on the sink— he was taking in every word with as little as an occasional grunt that proved he was still listening. 

His favorite part though, was nearing the end of your drawn out stories, when your words would start to trail, and your face would begin to flush because you realized— god, you really have been talking for a long time. Whenever he’d notice those little queues, he’d always look up just in time to watch as you buried your burning face into your hands, muttering out an apology about talking his ear off, and he would smile, because something about that gentle timidness contrasted so deliciously with his brash and jagged edges. It lit a fire in his chest each time, one that had him reminding himself to reel it back in before he scared you one of these days.

So, he’d bite down the urge to pounce and opt to flick at your forehead, tutting softly as he urged you to not leave me in fuckin’ suspense as soon as you’d peek up at him through your fingers. 

His crass mouth was another aspect of him that didn’t seem to phase you as much as he thought it would. In your eyes, he could curse like a sailor and scowl all he wanted, because none of it ever took away from the way his typically rough hands handled you with the delicacy of fine china, and how he always seemed to remember the little bits of you you’d shared when you were sure he hadn’t been listening. It also didn’t hurt to have someone without any hair on his tongue around when the cafe got your order wrong, and you were too scared to say anything. 

So, maybe you weren’t sure exactly how to label whatever it was that had been going on between you two for the past couple weeks, but you knew you were actually excited for something other than your frequent dance practices for the first time in months. Shrugging on a sweater and a pair of sweatpants over your leotard and tights, you scooped up your bag before tossing a rushed goodbye out to your teammates and bursting through the doors. 

Your feet still ached from the extensive time spent awkwardly constricted in your pointe shoes, but Sukuna had texted you just before practice asking (demanding) to meet him at the shop afterward since his last appointment was ending early. He’d offered to come pick you up, but the last thing you wanted to do was become a burden on him after he’d been working all day. So, you trudged through the dull pain and walked as fast as your throbbing feet would take you through the campus. 

Chewing on your bottom lip, you busied yourself with checking the train schedule as the breeze messied your once neat bun. Glancing up after you narrowly avoided getting knocked into one too many times, you had to do a double take when you saw the familiar mop of pink hair in the distance. Biting down your tickled smile, you shook your head at his stubbornness. You picked up your pace a bit, but slowed down just as you were a few feet away from him. It had become a self-appointed challenge, your constant attempts to scare him as it seemed nothing swayed this man. 

With an unnecessary burst of adrenaline, you made a running start before pouncing on his hoodie-covered arm with an exaggerated shout, an eccastic grin lighting up your face at the sound of his abrupt yelp. 

“Hah! So much for— oh my god!” It was now your turn to yelp, because the startled face looking down at you was free of all the intricate tattoos that you’d grown so fond of, and the bicep in your grasp was most definitely a few inches smaller in circumference than you remember. Perhaps you should have known, because the hoodie you were clinging onto was a baby pink color, and you were positive you’d never seen that man in anything other than black.“I-I’m so sorry, I thought—” Your mortified apology died on your throat, because now that the jolt of fear had somewhat subsided, you noted that this was a damn near spitting image of Ryomen. “Oh my god!”

Stumbling back with a start, your foot twisted awkwardly on the rocky pavement below you, nearly sending your ass tumbling to the ground when the black haired man in front of him, whose eyes had since been shooting daggers into your skull, jolted forward to steady you. Stammered apologies continued spilling from your lips as you crouched against the sudden pain in your foot that had already seen better days before your tumble.

“I’m so sorry, it’s just that you look exactly like—”

“Ohhh,” The doppelganger cut you off, an amused smile of recognition finally lighting up his once startled expression. It wasn’t long after though that his face quickly scrunched up in disbelief once again as he took in the way you starkly contrasted his gruffer counterpart. “Wait, you’re the one seeing my brother?”

You blinked once, then twice, mouth hung open as the puzzle pieces began clicking together. Ryomen had mentioned that he and Choso have another brother, but he left out the arguably major details that for one, you two attended the same university, and two, that they were—

“Twins?”

Sukuna had already wrapped up his last appointment by the time you waltzed through the doors of the parlor, your eyes narrowed at the back of his head as he cleaned his station absentmindedly. Pausing your hunt to offer a warm smile to Choso as he greeted you, you quickly locked back in. It didn’t seem too busy in the shop today, only one other customer in the back getting the finishing touches of their ink. 

Taking advantage of his lack of attention, you quietly made your way over and took a seat in his tattoo chair, holding back a groan of relief at the weight being taken off your twisted ankle. As he turned back around, it didn’t surprise you that he didn’t jump in the slightest at your sudden appearance. Hiding the tiny smile tugging at his lips with a short scoff, he reached up to flick at your forehead before swooping in with an urging hand on your jaw to press a kiss to your temple, your cheeks mushing together under his grip.

“There you are, geez. What took you so damn long— got lost?” 

“No, funny story actually,” You began, watching with a tilted head as he began putting his supplies away. “I ran into this guy that looked just like you. Pink hair and everything!” 

This made his movements falter for a fraction of a second, and you could practically see the realization don on his face that he’d forgotten to tell you something. Playing it off as he always did though, he only hummed in response. Narrowing your eyes again, you finally thought of the one thing that might actually startle him for once. 

“Yeah, it was pretty embarrassing. I accidentally kissed him and—”

“You kissed my brother?” His baffled shout echoed through the shop, the bottle in his hand clattering to the ground abruptly. 

“You kissed one of his brothers and it wasn’t me?” Choso shouted incredulously from the front, face morphed in bitter betrayal. “Yuji doesn’t even like girls!”

Sukuna felt his eye twitch, and he wasn’t sure which one of his siblings’ necks to wring out first. Deciding that Choso was closest and therefore easier game, he quickly pivoted on his heels to make a beeline for his target before you squeaked at the predicament you’d caused, snatching him back by his wrist with poorly disguised laughter. 

“Wait! Wait! I surrender, I was kidding— spare him!” 

The pure mass of him had you tumbling from the chair, clinging onto him desperately to give his half-brother a running start to lock himself in the bathroom. A pained yelp fell from your lips as you stumbled after him. This had him abruptly whipping his head around, staring down at the way you limped back over to the chair. 

“The fuck happened to you?” He was kneeling down before you had the chance to answer, grasping at your calf as his other hand worked the fleece-lined boot from your foot. Leaning back on your hands, your scrunched face stared down at him as he carefully peeled your sock back to reveal the red skin that was paving the way for a gnarly bruise. Along with it though were the scars and blisters that your pointe shoes had graced you with over the years, and he tutted under his breath. 

“Well, it kinda freaked me out when I saw Yuji.” You explained sheepishly, wincing as he ran a thumb over the warm skin. “And my feet were already killing me from practice, so I tripped up a little.”

“Can’t blame you— punk’s got an ugly fucking mug.”

Despite the searing ache in your feet, you couldn’t help the airy laugh that bubbled up your chest at his ridiculous claim. A smirk slid onto his lips at the sound. From your peripheral, you saw Choso poke his head out of the bathroom to check if the coast was clear, and you offered a subtle thumbs up, biting back an amused smile as he carefully slipped out to quietly take his place back at the front. 

Sukuna ditched the plans he had to take you to lunch, opting to take you back to his place so you could get off your feet. You flushed initially at the idea, still never having stepped foot into his apartment since you two started… whatever this was that you two had started. Your unease was palpable as you sat stiffly on his couch, watching as he bustled around the kitchen after having told you to wait here. 

He almost looked too large for the space he was residing in, the appliances in his kitchen appearing ridiculously small next to him. You couldn’t help but wonder what he’d look like in his pajamas, hovering menacingly over that stove as he cooked you breakfast after—

You quickly cleared your throat, cheeks burning as you tore your gaze from him in search of anything that might distract you from your impure thoughts. With a wandering gaze, you landed on the picture frame sitting idly on his side table. Sukuna had his middle finger positioned at the camera, partially blocking his face as his other arm was slung around the neck of the boy that had startled you so badly just hours prior, his brother's finger hooked into his already beaming smile to pull at his lip. You smile softly at the picture, being able to detect the subtle softness in the brooding man’s eyes even with all the layers of stone he always seemed put up before him. 

“Alright, take them dogs out.” The man in question commanded as he trudged back into the living room with a bucket in tow. Your brows furrowed as he set it down on the floor in front of you. As if you had already been taking too long to comply, he kneeled down with a disapproving tsk to snatch your socks off himself and roll up your sweatpants before lowering your aching feet into the water. 

“Ah—” You hissed as the warm water enveloped your inflamed tendons and skin. A few short pants escaped you before morphing into a sigh of relief as you felt your feet throb as if thanking you for showing them mercy. Slumping back against the couch, your eyes shifted apprehensively between him and the bucket. “Um, Ryo, do you happen to have any—”

“Salt? I already put a shit ton in there.” 

“Oh.” You blinked in surprise, watching as he finally stood from his knelt position to trek back to the kitchen and procure a water bottle from the fridge. Finally sinking into the spot beside you, he passed over the bottle. “How’d you know to put it in there?” 

A small, questioning hum left him, and you tilted your head down to the bucket. 

“Punk’s been running track for years.” He explained as he slung an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his side. “If you think your toes are fucked up, you should see what I’ve had to soak off that bastard’s feet— shit’s not natural.”

A laugh attempted to leave you, but it came out closer to a groan than anything else, your head falling back against the cushion in agony over the state of your feet. Shifting your head to the side to look up at him, you found that he was already looking down at you. The intensity in his eyes seemed to suck you in, opening the smallest window to the inner thoughts that he seemed so protective of. 

You found yourself flushing at the way it never wavered, unabashedly trained on you as though he could possess you by will alone if only he tried just hard enough. His fingers caught your jaw as you tried to escape it in hopes of calming your racing heart, ruby eyes dragging down your face until they fell upon the lips that were smushed between his fingers.  

“You didn’t really kiss my brother, did you, doll?” He tested, his hot breath creating a mind-numbing humidity over your gently parted lips. The faintest of whimpers escaped you, and you quickly shook your head in hopes that he’d put you out of your misery already and kiss you as you’d been waiting for all day. Your response made him smirk, his nose brushing against your as he seemed to inhale each shaky breath that left your mouth. “Good, cause I woulda’ hated if I had to scrub him off of ya’.”  

Lord, if you’re up there, please spare me.

Your frantic inner prayer seemed to fall on deaf ears though, because Ryo was swiftly pulling you in for a nearly bruising kiss, barely giving you the time to relish it before releasing you all together. He always loved the look on your face— the tiniest of disappointed furrow in your brows paired with that glossed pout— it drove him to the brink of insanity each time. 

Gluing your eyes to your lap for the sake of having anything else to concentrate on, your fingers dug into your thighs for a moment as you thought of something to say. Hearing the sloshing of the water bucket as you shifted uncertainly, you were reminded of why you were in this position in the first place. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a twin?” You finally broke the tense silence, the one during which his gaze not once left your delicate side profile. A dainty smile pulled at your lips when you glanced back up at him. “Probably would have saved me the embarrassment— his boyfriend looked like he was going to kill me on the spot.”

“Why— think you’d like the other one better?” It was so like him to brush off your questions with a jab and a matching smirk, though you had a feeling there was some truth hiding in the depths of this one. 

“Is that what you thought?” You questioned, not matching his banter as you usually did. Instead, your voice was level, careful in how it broached this topic with him.“That I’d prefer your brother?”

The reaction he tried to disguise revealed itself within his fluttering blink, the way his smirk faltered for even just a millisecond before he scoffed. You caught it though— that rare sliver of vulnerability in his eyes just before he turned his head away from you under the guise of pushing his hair from his forehead. 

“Bullshit,” He quipped, that guarded smirk back on his face faster than it had left. Reaching down to scoop up the towel he’d left beside the bucket, he placed it in his lap before abruptly pulling your feet out of the now luke-warm water to dry them. “Brat might be nicer than me, but he sure ass hell don’t got my hands, huh?” 

Before you could even consider flushing at the implications of his words, said hands were kneading into the searing arch of your feet with more pressure than any of the myriad of foot rollers you’d come to know in all your years could ever manage. All thoughts of Yuji and his brother’s oddly stubborn defenses vanished from you as you fell back horizontally against the couch, a gutteral groan leaving you that Sukuna hadn’t even realized could come out of such a comparably small person. 

“Geez, doll,” He whistled lowly through the pure mirth etched onto his face as he drifted his focus down to your heels, rolling his knuckles over them tantalizingly. “Not what I imagined when I thought of you all spread out and moaning on my couch, but I’ll take it.”

With a burning flush, you dug the back of your head into the cusion below you to shield yourself from his teasing gaze. 

“Sorry,” You mumbled, covering your timid face behind your hands with a blissful sigh. “Just haven’t had much of a break lately.”

“Take it easy the next few days.” He grumbled as though he hated how his own concern sounded in his ears, fingers trailing up to gently massage into your calves. His neck nearly snapped with the abrupt turn it took at the sound of your quiet, incredulous laugh at his suggestion. “Did I say something fuckin’ funny?” 

“No!” You squeaked, though the amusement still lingered in your tone as you peaked at him through your fingers. He only raised his brows at you in challenge. “That’s just… not possible right now. Swan Lake is only like a week away, remember?” 

Of course he remembered— he had been reeling to see you perform again since that first night you took his breath away, though he’d never admit it. The air of nonchalance that waved from him when your ecstatic voice squealed through his phone weeks prior that you had been picked to portray Odette was carefully calculated. In truth though, he felt as though his chest might burst with a sense of pride he wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced before. 

Sure, he hadn’t the slightest clue who the fuck this Odette character was, but he wasn’t at all surprised after a quick google search that you would have been the only choice fit for the lead role— though perhaps he was a little biased.  The stoic man wasn’t upfront with his praises though, but you heard it loud and clear in his simple response of yeah, no shit you got picked, a hidden smile lingering in his otherwise gruff tone. 

“Yeah? How you gonna play Odyssey with no fuckin’ toes left?” He quipped, purposefully mistaking the name just to hear that saccharine laughter of yours as he paused his massage to creep between your legs. 

“It’s Odette, Ryo!” You giggled, pushing at his chest to no avail as he hovered over you to pepper wet kisses along your jaw. “And I can’t afford to slack off.” 

“You’re taking a day offa’ practice.” He grumbled against your ear before snagging the soft lobe between his teeth. Your breathless pants tickled his neck, and the hands that had since been haphazardly shoving at his broad shoulders curled into the neckline of his shirt. 

Those pretty, pink lips that took up so much space in his mind circled into the gentlest of oh’s as his hand wandered down your waist and grasped at your hip, pulling it up to press you against him. 

“I-I can’t—”

Slipping that same hand down, he cupped at the warmth between your legs purposefully, sending your back arching up from the plush cushions. 

“Hm?” He hummed tauntingly at your sudden loss for words, easing up the pressure on your center just enough to make you beg him for it. “You gonna stay home and rest those pretty little legs of yours tomorrow?” 

The heat radiating from your cheeks warmed his lips as he traced them up your face and nipped at your pouted lips. You nodded deleriously, tangling your hands into his hair to pull him in to properly kiss you. 

“I’ll take a break.” You barely got out against his curled up lips before he was consuming you once again. 

His once idle hand eagerly snuck up to dive down the front of your sweatpants, and he tsked in aggravation at the barrier that was the leotard and tights you had yet to change out of. Pulling away from you with a wet smack, he instead focused his efforts on snaking down your body, pressing kisses against your clothed chest, across your ribs and down your stomach. 

A faint rumble had him pausing his pursuit to glance up at you, that familiar glitter of amusement hidden in his ruby eyes. You quickly shook your head, mumbling that you were fine, and your eagerness had all but convinced him that you were, diving back down to slip his fingers into the waistband of your sweats. Your fingers danced up to tangle into his already mustled hair, lifting your hips ever so slightly so he could tug down your bottoms. They had only just barely grazed the swell of your ass before he heard it again— this time more vengeful than the last. 

“Okay, put your fuckin’ shoes on, we’re getting you a burger.” 

Much to your dismay, Ryo did convince you (stood over your shoulder until you texted your instructor that you were sick) to take the day off of practice the next day. In his defense, the foot that you had injured the day prior had begun to take on a faint purple hue along the bridge. Still, you couldn’t help but barely relax the entire day as you were meant to be doing— too caught up in the fear that the mere day you were taking would set you back tremendously. 

Truthfully, while you were completely over the moon to have been given such a coveted role, one you’d dreamt of since you were little no less, the years of buildup had paved the way for a blackhole of self doubt. Not only were you given the opportunity to perform your dream role, but you knew for a fact there would be recruiters for at least three professional dance companies in attendance for the show. Additionally and nearly as nerve-wrecking, Ryo would be there, and it would be the first performance he would see following that first night you two had spent together. 

With how matter of factly he always spoke of your dancing abilities, you couldn’t bear the humiliation of messing up under his watch. Aside from him, your identity as a dancer was all you had since moving here. Without it, you weren’t sure there was anything left to you at all. There was a gnawing fear sprouting roots in each of your bones that told you that Ryo wouldn’t find much else either. Perhaps it was unfair, unhealthy to be putting such pressure on yourself, but you’d much rather drown in your contradictions than bear the weight of swimming up to the surface to confront them. 

Maybe it was the fact that you had worried yourself into the early hours of the morning when you should have been sleeping to prepare for the hours of practice that would be awaiting you when you woke. Even more likely was the fact that it was the barely healed, blackening bruise lingering maliciously on your foot that assured that you just wouldn’t for the life of you land any of your grand jetés, your aching tendon simply dipping too far under the leaden weight of your drops. Your partner, who would be fulfilling the role of Prince Siegfried alongside you, really did try to help, his hands tightening in a barely noticeable fashion around your waist each time you came down from your leaps in hopes of easing your landing so that you may execute it with more grace— but not even his mercy seemed to save you. Whatever you could inevitably point the blame at though caused you instructor to finally snap about four hours into practice that day.

It took barely a sharp glare, a hushed critique, but it sliced through you like a knife. Over the years, you had of course learned to take and constructively use the feedback given by your instructors, though the weight of your role’s importance to the success of the show perhaps made her words cutting and her eyes despondent toward your previously blossoming potential. You could even feel your partner’s typically playfully smug expression boring into the side of your head with barely concealed sympathy, but not even Satoru’s usually life saving swoop-ins could pull you out of the hole you were throwing yourself down.

You could hardly think of a thing else when you left that evening, sun already prepared to retreat soon for the night. The score played resoundingly in your headphones speakers that sat snuggly against your ears, aiding in your wide-eyed, mental rundown of each number on your trek back to your dorm, every muscle in your body seemingly screaming with every dragged step.

Nothing would allow you to let up on yourself, it seemed. You stared blankly into your fridge for nearly ten minutes following your scalding shower before deciding your mind was far too preoccupied to conjure up any sort of appetite. And so you didn’t rest when you got home that day. With the increasingly taunting melodies of Tchaikovsky's compositions filling the already tense air of your dorm, you continued your trembling fouettés and pirouettes until each of your steps wavered and it became glaringly difficult to lift yourself from your rocky landings. 

There was barely a glimmer of sunlight left shining from your window, and you weren’t sure how long you’d been furiously torturing yourself for, each falter or misstep being met with blindly frenzied repetitions. A sharp rap on your door seemed to shake your resolve, almost drowned out by the volume of your music that had been steadily ticking up and up and up until the fact that you hadn’t received a noise complaint had to have been chalked up to a heavenly intervention. 

It startled you in the midst of your leap, reducing whatever semblance of grace you had prepared for your landing into a thudding heap on the floor. Your knee’s resounding smack against the wood floor along with your frustrated cry was only followed by a harsher pound at your door, and you were sure you saw the door frame rattle even if just by a hair. 

“I’m coming!” You tried to sound as though you weren't ready to open your window and scream your miseries out to the world, though you weren’t sure how well it translated. A shuddering breath shook your frame as you rose from the floor to make your way to the door one wincing step at a time. You had barely the chance to crack the door before it was being pushed open, and the spine-chilling scowl on the face of the man who invited himself in would have had you calling campus security in any other situation. “Ryo?”

“What the hell happened to you? I haven’t heard from you since this morning. Ain’t been answering any of my—” His exasperated interrogation died in his throat as he took in the state of your dorm— namely the main floor, where your modest couch had been pushed haphazardly against the far corner of the room, with your rug rolled up and slouched against the wall. The body mirror that typically hung on your bathroom door was ripped from its place and leaned against the wall to face the makeshift practice space. 

You watched with a waxing humiliation as his expression morphed into a startled disquietude he did little to mask. With a flickering gaze, the cool air of your space whipped against your burning cheeks as you shook your head, placing your hands desolately onto his shoulders in an attempt to push him back toward the door. 

“You should go, I—”

“Like hell I should go, what the fuck is going on?” Sukuna’s venomous tone contrasted the desperately gentle manner at which he reached out to grasp at your cheeks. In his frenzied inspection of you, he noted how your flushed face and damp skin paired painstakingly with the droop of your exhausted eyes. “Have you stopped at all today?”

“I—” Your weak stammer pitched until you could no longer hear it falling from your lips. The fat of your cheeks squished against his palms as you slumped defeatedly into his grasp, a traitorous tear slipping down your burning eyes. You tried to cast your gaze downward in search of any solace against the way you were breaking down so pathetically before him, but his insistent fingers prevented you from doing anything of the sort. 

His incredulous eyes widened as one tear turned into several, until no dam could possibly stop your abrupt onslaught onto the tightening grasp of his hands. And god, how he felt he was the worst person to have stumbled upon such a scene, because Sukuna had never in his life been sure what to do with tears. In all his years, he’d solved matters with his sharp tongue and barreling fists— though he’d never quite mastered the intricacies of handling anything with fragility or care. 

So, as comforting as he thought he could manage, he stiffly pulled your head against his chest, sighing in modest relief when you buried your nose in further. The motion gave him hope that just maybe whatever foreign moves he was making didn’t come off as horribly stiff and unnatural as they felt to him. 

“I kept messing up my choreography today, a-and I just— I can’t—” The choked sobs were rendering your frenzied explanation nearly incomprehensible as you began heaving out your breaths. Your shoulders were jostling with the sudden expended efforts of your erratic breathing, and he decided that perhaps a hug wasn’t going to cut it, because your skin was clammy and you were choking on your breaths and he was sure you’d pass out any second now. 

“Nah, c’mon, get it together f’me.” Ryo muttered with a crippling effort to not raise his voice and make the situation worse. With a firm hand on your nape, he began urging you toward the hall where he nearly tore your bathroom door off the hinges opening it. Twisting on the faucet of your ivory sink, his hand pushed you down until your frazzled face was a mere inches from the now running water. Cupping his hand under the stream, he ran the starkly cool water down your feverish face. You gasped softly at the way it seemed to shock your already strung-out nervous system. “Breathe, dammit.” 

But the much needed air was already crashing against your withering lungs like waves against an unsuspecting shore as his hand continued splashing at your face. 

“I’m sorry— I’m sorry.” You finally rasped out, feeling as though you were at last breaking through the surface tension that had been trapping you in your haze. The grip on your nape slowly loosened in tandem with your leveling breaths, and you leaned against the counter for support. 

Sukuna switched the faucet off before turning you to face him once again. There were stray droplets of water still rolling down your face and dripping into the divets of your collarbones, and he swiped at your dribbling jaw as he waited for you to collect yourself. It was silent as his intense gaze burned holes into your forehead, and it pushed the few stray tears lingering in your waterline out. 

“She told me that I—” You cut yourself off, face scrunching up in embarrassment, but he gently jostled you to urge your continuing. “That I-I’m not taking this seriously.”

“Fuck that—”

“No, she’s right, Ryo.” Your sudden insistence caught him off guard, his eyes searching yours incredulously because he couldn’t think of one person who could’ve grasped at their goals as tightly as you had between your delicate fingers. “I skipped practice yesterday, and I haven’t been putting in as much time as I can— I’m gonna mess everything up.” 

“Hey, no that’s bullshit, you hear me?” His fingers squished at your cheeks in order to urge your wet gaze onto his grave eyes. “You ain’t a damn machine— how the hell do you expect to put in a hundred percent when you’re grinding yourself stupid? Huh?” 

You didn’t answer him, instead opting to squeeze your eyes shut, chewing on your bottom lip. 

“You need a break. You need to fucking relax, alright?”

“I can’t— I don’t know how.” You admitted meekly as your own trembling hands came up to grip desperately at his wrists. The scent of his cologne helped marginally to ground you as he leaned down to press ardent kisses against your temple and forehead. “I feel like I’m possessed or something. I can’t sit still, I can’t—”

“You gotta try for me, baby.” The way his gruff voice reverberated in his chest had you pulling yourself closer to him, desperate to drown in the intoxicating distraction that had been laid before you. Because Ryomen— he smelled like a forest, his hands were so sure in their pursuit of you, his voice flowing like the most expensive of wines, and he had never called you that before, and you thought there was nowhere you’d rather plummet into insanity than his fortifying embrace. 

“Can you…” Your soft whisper drifted in apprehension, a deep scarlet painting your still drying cheeks. He hummed in question, already terrifyingly resolute in his decision that he’d burn cities down to complete whatever request it was that would fall from your lips if it meant that painstaking little crease of worry between your brows would leave you alone. “Can you help me? You know… r-relax?” 

And oh how his chest filled with pride, because the tears and the speeches were lost on him but this? This he could do, he determined as he sank to his knees before you. He’d felt utterly hopeless at the hands of your tender nature and gentle touches, because he knew that anyone else would be able to reciprocate them to you far better than he could ever hope to, though he knew one thing for certain as he tugged your bottoms down, chin propped on your navel to look up at you in that sweltering manner he was so good at— there was no one alive or dead that would be able to take care of you like he intended to. 

Your hands found purchase on the counter behind you in desperate pursuit of support as he nudged your legs further apart and buried his head between them. His tongue was warm as it lapped mercilessly at your center, urging hands gripping at the back of your thigh to wrangle one of your legs over his shoulder. He moaned against you as you arched into him, his grip around your thigh tightening as if to encourage your movements, and you found yourself crying out along with him. Your chords meshed together and danced harmoniously off the thin walls of your dingy, dorm bathroom. 

The mystery raced through your mind of what planet this man had come from, as he was managing to pull at threads you hadn’t known existed in you with each skilled thrust of his tongue. Your balance wavered on the leg that remained standing, trembling on its tiptoes as it attempted desperately to keep up with him to no avail. Just as you slipped forward, Sukuna’s bicep was hooking under the wavering limb before hoisting himself up along with you. 

Your back fell against the mirror once he dropped you onto the counter, and his fingers were soon replacing his tongue just as all your crippling thoughts of self doubt were soon replaced by him. Him as he lurched forward over the sink to capture your lips, allowing you to taste yourself lingering on his tongue before leaning back to watch the way you began to desperately grind yourself against his fingers. 

“What are you thinking about right now?” He all but growled out as his fingers found a blistering rhythm within you, the continuous, wet smacks of his palm against your heat making it difficult for you to think of anything at all though. So, you only whined out in response, your feet craning up to gain any kind of leverage on the counter’s edge. At once, his free hand was grasping at your nape to angle your gaze to look up at him, his incandescent eyes demanding to be met. “I asked you a question.”

“You!” You gasped out, the searing pleasure making way for the tears that gathered in the corner of your eyes. He smiled wolfishly at your response, and you moaned softly at the sight. “Just you, I’m thinking about you, Ryo.”

“Yeah?” Sukuna muttered smugly, grasping at your leg as it continued to slip against the counter in search of support. 

His heated touch ran down your calf teasingly until it curled around your ankle that was still partially covered by the ties of your pointe shoes. Ever so slowly, as if testing the spellbinding flexibility that had had the perverse wheels turning in his head since he first witnessed it on stage all those weeks ago, he inched your leg up and up and up until the bridge of your foot brushed against the mirror only a mere inches away from your rapturous face. For once, the wind felt as though it had been knocked from his lungs at the sight, but he worked to quickly compose himself lest you bear witness to the slip in his resolve. 

So, he instead leaned in closer to you, the back of your thigh now flush against his chest as his hand kept your leg pinned up. A shuddering moan slipped from you at the feeling of his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“And what am I doing in those thoughts of yours, doll?” The whisper sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but turn your face away from him bashfully. Tutting softly in mocking disapproval, he nudged your face forward once again with a push of his nose against your chin. “Hm? Speak up now, I can’t hear you.”

But your climax was nearing closer and closer, evident in the way your warmth squeezed around his relentless fingers and your breaths grew choppy. Perhaps that was the only reason you had the nerve to actually answer him.

“Y-You’re— ah!” A sharp gasp shook you as he angled his palm to brush against your clit with each stroke, but he quickly ground out for you to keep talking. “You’re making love to me, Ryo.”

Your high came crashing down onto you just as your words seemed to shatter his mind, his mouth falling open in tandem with your pitched cries as you peaked. His brows drew fiercely together, his teeth gritting together as he worked you through the waves of your release, and he no longer cared if you saw the way his thusfar fierce front had fallen, because Ryomen couldn’t possibly want anything more in that moment than for you to allow him to bring your lust-clouded thoughts to fruition as he leaned forward to swallow your moans.

“Can’t talk like that, doll.” He groaned despondently against your lips, foreheads brushing together while your lower half jolted against him.

“Why?” In your delirium, you could have cried at his disapproval. 

“Cause I might just fucking do it, that’s why.” 

It fell silent in the already small bathroom that seemed all the more cramped with Sukuna’s Herculean figure occupying the majority of it. Your soft pants puffed against his mouth, eyes fluttering out a stray tear as you reached up to grasp at his nape. The sensation of your nails dragging down the blunt hairs of his undercut made his fingers curl deeper around your ankle, scrambling for any semblance of restraint. It would never come though, because you had the gall to pout against his parted lips, your grip like a vice on his neck as you whispered to him.

“Please, Ryo.” 

He certainly didn’t feel as though he deserved such a privilege, but it was also far from him to make you beg for a part of him that was already wholeheartedly yours. So, his grip fell from your leg in favor of scooping you up by your thighs, your dripping core soaking against his shirt as he moved through your dorm like a man possessed, kicking at your bedroom door impatiently. 

You barely had the chance to recover from the abrupt manner in which you bounced back against your mattress before he was wrangling your sweater from over your head. Sighing wantonly at the sight of his tattoo marked proudly against your heaving sternum, he leaned down to sink his teeth into it. Any semblance of rationality seemed so far from you as your jaw hung open, and you blindly reached down to tug at the back of his shirt until he disconnected from you to pull it off. 

In a lust-filled haze, you reached out to trace the black ink that ran down his chest, making him hum appreciatively, his own hands capturing yours to hold them against him even if for just a moment longer. Slowly though, those sinful hands were drifting down your bare sides until his fingers dug into the swell of your hips to yank you down until your ass was just barely kissing the edge of the bed. 

“These legs drive me fucking ballistic.” His sultry confession would have made you blush had you not already been spread open so vulnerably before him. Laden fingers dragged down your legs as he gathered them up to rest against his chest, turning his head to press salacious, open mouthed kisses along your calves. With a feather-light touch, he drifted up toward your ankle before tugging at the tie of your pointe shoes hungrily. That fervid, side-long glance he tossed your way as he worked the stiff shoes off you was nearly too intense to take head on, but there was a glint in his eyes that told you that you should know better than to look away. 

The offending shoes fell against the floor with a soft thud. The keen gaze he kept on you should have sent you sprinting, akin to an apex predator scouting its next meal. As you assured yourself just moments prior though, you knew better. So, you stayed perfectly still, save your heaving breaths, as he dug a small, gold foiled packet from his wallet, holding it between his teeth before working his belt off and allowing his pants to pool at his feet. 

There was the slightest hint of a pause as Ryo allowed the scene to settle in— to give you a chance to turn back at the very moment you’d left off on the last time your fates brushed this closely. That resistance never came though, and your ankles dug into his shoulders in anticipation. Your eyes fell on their own volition as he pushed his boxers down to join the rest of his clothes, and you thought you might swallow your own tongue in the midst of your shock. 

His erection sprang from its cotton prison, ever so gently brushing against your core in its escape. You shuddered at the sensation, but for once your tremors rooted not in fear but instead in an aching anticipation. Much like the rest of him, as you had assumed, he was intimidatingly… above average— not that you had much by way of comparison. Gulping down the saliva that seemed to pool dramatically on your tongue, you took note of the black rings that circled his upper thighs, and you couldn’t help but let your lips curl up at the sight. 

“What’re you smilin’ at, huh?” Ryomen teased through clenched teeth, the condom still hanging between his lips. An adoring smirk was splitting across his own face as he took the opportunity to pump leisurely as his leaking cock, using his free hand to smooth up your navel. 

“You just… match everywhere.” Your timid giggle had his length twitching in his grip, his intense gaze softening just a bit. Abandoning his caress against your lower half, he reached up to tear open the foil between his teeth.

“What— don’t like ‘em?” His husky question was followed by the teasing plap of his heavy cockhead on your sensitive bud. The amused smile on your lips quickly fell into a sharp gasp at the sensation. Sukuna hummed as he rolled the condom over his aching length before guiding it through your folds. 

“I love them.” Your sincere, breathless confession caught him off guard. “You look like�� a piece of art, Ryo.”

For the first time since knowing him, you watched a genuine flush fall over his face at your words. Wide eyes were staring down at you as though he’d never received a compliment a day in his life, but, truthfully, he wasn’t sure anyone had ever bothered showing him such tenderness, always preferring to veer off his path lest they get caught in his crossfires. There was a barely noticeable tremble in his breath as he sighed out. 

“Art, huh? Nah.” He murmured, pushing forward until his tip dipped into your straining entrance. 

You cried out softly at the abrupt stretch, and he quickly hushed you with a soothing hand up your thigh. It felt so incredibly cathartic, enduring the dull pain at the hands of Ryomen. No matter how much you felt you might split in two as he gradually introduced each inch of himself into your honied heat, you would have done it all over again if it meant you’d be able to see that look on his face as he bottomed out. Eyes rolled back, fingers clutching at your thighs as they rested against his chest with a bruising grip, with a gaping mouth that curled up at the corners in a lingering, intoxicated smirk. 

He fell forward until your knees pushed up against your breasts, moving one hand to fist the sheets beside your head to pace himself as he licked at the tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“This is art.” Sukuna corrected as he dipped down to capture each, pained whimper that fell past your lips until it was your moans would soon compete against his favorite of artists, because if he was art then you must be a masterpiece. 

You slept with a serenity that rivaled a corpse that night, your dreams floating through clouds as your mind was utterly consumed by him. For the first time in weeks, something had rivaled the searing ache in your feet, and it was the dull reminder of Ryomen between your thighs— though you couldn��t possibly bring yourself to deem that particular pain unwelcomed as you stirred from your slumber. 

The frigid air bit at your bare skin, sending a tremor through your shoulders. Cracking your eyes open, you were greeted by the sight of the man so many seemed to fear, his lips gently pouted as half his face molded against your pink pillow sheet. You wondered if it was his perpetually defensive nature that made him sleep on his stomach, the idea putting an amused grin on your tired features as you observed how his arms clutched onto the pillow under his head. 

His legs were tangled into yours under the covers, giving you the vital information that he seemed to be putting out far more body heat than you could hope to at this hour. Shuffling closer to him, you carefully placed a hand under his arm in an attempt to lift it just enough to slip into his warm embrace for solace against the cold. 

“What’re you doin’, brat?” His gravelly voice cut through the morning silence, catching you red handed without ever having opened his eyes. 

Biting back the disappointment upon realizing that you weren’t nearly as stealthy as you thought, you smiled sheepishly despite his closed eyes. 

“I’m cold.” You whispered softly.

“No one told you to get this thin ass blanket.” He grumbled, and you let out a quiet huff of disappointment before turning over and pulling the covers tighter over yourself. It only took a mere few seconds though to hear the rustling of sheets behind you, and you were soon being enveloped in a bear-like embrace nonetheless. His arm dipped under your head to cross over your chest, and you smiled against the warmth of his forearm. “What’re you smiling for? Too fuckin’ early.” 

The fervent kisses he began pressing against your shoulder contradicted his grumpy rambling though, and he was soon nosing at your jaw for you to expose your neck to him. His teeth sank into the new area bared to him, and you arched against him just as his tongue began circling the attacked skin. 

“Hmm,” He hummed in a deep baritone, his hand running up your thigh before dipping down to where you still ached of him. “Better cancel whatever fuckin’ plans you had today.” 

Just as you nearly allowed yourself to succumb to him once more, his words sunk into your still barely functioning mind. 

“Oh my god!” You shrieked, shooting up from his grip and nearly tumbling off the bed as you reached for your phone. 

“Woah, woah, settle down. What the hell are you tweaking about?” Ryo groaned, rubbing at his now ringing ear as he propped himself up to watch you. 

“I’m late! Oh my god, I’m so late.” You rambled through trembling breaths. It was like watching a tornado ripping through your tiny room, clothes flying as you wrangled on whatever was closest to you. He quickly sat up at your frenzied movements. “I’m supposed to be at practice!”

“Hey, take a fucking breather, you’re gonna pass out.” 

“I can’t take a fucking breather, Ryomen!” His eyes widened at your uncharacteristic tone, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard such… unsavory language falling from your lips. Tears of frustration blurred your vision as you began shoving your abandoned pointe shoes haphazardly into your bag. “I keep messing everything up, I’m such a—”

“Nothing’s messed up—”

“Everything’s messed up!” You cried, grunting in frustration as you shoved your aching feet into your boots. “My foot is still messed up, my routine is messed up, my instructor thinks I’m a joke, and I’m about to screw everything up because I keep letting myself get distracted, and I—”

“Distracted?” Sukuna scoffed, pulling on his boxers as he stood up to follow you out of your bedroom. “Is that what I was fucking doing last night? Distracting you?” 

“I don’t have time for this right now, Ryo.” 

“Well you better find some fucking time before you mess this up too.” He regretted them as soon as the words left his mouth, but his entire nervous system had switched onto the defense at your ruthless undermining of what had transpired between you two last night.

 The wounded expression on your delicate face told him he should drop to his knees to beg your forgiveness, but the wounded pride of the rejected child in him refused to submit so easily. So, he simply stared back at you with that callous expression you hadn’t ever seen him dare direct your way. Wiping furiously at your traitorous tears, you slung your bag over your shoulder and left, slamming the front door behind you. 

That door had shut in his face five days ago, and you had yet to hear from him since. In hindsight, you knew that what you said was out of line, and it was clear that you had hurt him in a way that he would refuse to outwardly display. Sukuna would always bare his teeth before showing his belly— you knew that whole heartedly even after knowing him a mere few months. Still, his words stung, and you were too afraid of how the things he’d left unsaid might feel if you should reach out to him first in the midst of his anger. 

You tried to use his absence to your advantage, throwing yourself wholeheartedly into your now daily practices that went hours on end. Your grief, anger, and betrayal fueled each twist and turn, each leap you aimed to perfect until you could convince yourself it was worth what you had damaged in the name of your passion. Even when you finally received that pathetically anticipated approval from your instructor, it no longer felt as sweet. 

There was hardly time for you to wallow over Roy’s radio silence though, because Swan Lake was in a day, and you weren’t even sure that he’d still show up. The thought clutched at your chest, but you were quick to dismiss Satoru when he’d whispered his concerns into your ear during your final dress rehearsal. It felt as though you were back in that desperate solitude that had inadvertently veered you on his path in the first place. 

Sukuna had been pretending that it wasn’t eating him alive that you had yet to crack first, but he sure as hell wouldn’t do it. Everyone around him could tell though. He was quiet— even more so than usual, and the fuse that they were sure couldn’t get any shorter was blowing easier than ever. Choso was met with a biting snap when he dared to ask why he hadn’t seen you around lately, so he figured you must have something to do with it, and he’d be damned if he sat back and simply watched his brother fuck this up. 

“Hey,” Despite his determination, his tone was still careful as he approached the pink-haired man who was still hunched over his client, brows furrowed as he concentrated on the cat he was coloring in on the woman’s thigh. It so obnoxiously reminded him of you and the soft spot you held in your heart for the damned feral animals. Sukuna grunted in question at his half-brother. “You still coming to the show tonight?”

He paused his careful strokes for a fraction of a second before blinking away his frustration. 

“Why the hell wouldn’t I be?” 

His gruff response made Choso’s eyes roll in annoyance. It was so like him to pretend as though no one could tell that something was going on with him. 

“Well she just texted me to ask, so I figured there was a reason.”

It took every bit of restraint in him not to jolt in surprise and completely fuck up this client’s day. Why didn’t she text him? Why the hell did she feel more comfortable going to his damn brother than him? His jaw clicked as it clenched in indignation. An aggravated huff escaped him as he wiped at the woman’s tattoo and prepared to wrap it up. 

“You can tell her that if she wants to know that she can ask me her fucking self.” The dark-haired man’s brows rose at his brother’s tone, pursing his lips as he turned on his heels with a shake of his head, a motion that certainly didn't go over Sukuna’s head. “You got something to say?” 

“Other than you’re going to regret whatever the hell it is you’re sulking over in a few days? Nah, it’s all good. I’ll let her know that Yuji and I are still coming.” 

He didn’t give him a chance for a rebuttal before he made his way back up to the front. A grumbled tut left him as he cleaned the tattoo before him and began wrapping it. 

“That sketch is gorgeous.” The client commented as he busied himself with her wrap. He glanced up at her in question before following her gaze to the sketch that he’d created for you that night and inevitably inked on you. The original was still taped to his station, always having been his favorite reminder of you to get him through his shifts. “You the artist? I have a friend who would probably love to get that inked.” 

Faster than he could even fully process her request, he was adamantly shaking his head with a fierce defensiveness. Even through the haze of his hurt, he knew that that drawing would never grace the skin of anyone else— no one else would be worthy of a piece inspired by you, no one had the right. He couldn’t bear the thought of tainting its sanctity with the likes of some of the scum that came through here. 

“Out of commission.” He gruffed plainly, not bothering to grace the notion with an explanation. Ripping off his gloves, his eager fingers dug his phone from his back pocket, but he was only met with further disappointment at the realization that— no, you still hadn’t reached out. 

As he walked his client to the front, he could see his brother typing away adamantly on his phone, and it pissed him off to think of you on the other end of it with the reassurance that his damn brothers would be coming to support you tonight. 

Sukuna couldn’t drag himself outside fast enough, hiding under the guise of needing some air when, truthfully, he was tempted to rip the stupid fucking buns right off Choso’s head if he heard his phone ping one more time. It was his rage, that’s what he’d blame it on as his thumbs furiously pounded at the poor, unsuspecting screen of his phone before hitting send.

I’ll be there.

You were sure you would throw up if there had been anything in your stomach to begin with that day. With your nerves so overwhelmingly shot, you could barely stomach a few saltine crackers before even they were making you nauseous. 

Staring back at you in the mirror was the woman you had been fighting tooth and nail for for so long. The white, feathered headpieces sat snuggly against your temples and into the sides of your slicked-back bun. You almost didn’t recognize yourself in the dramatically winged, dark shadow that shrouded your eyes. 

You couldn’t be sure if the reassurance that Ryo would be coming despite your near week of radio silence comforted or intimidated you even more. 

From the closed door of your dressing room, you could hear the orchestra performing each intricate number as act one got the ball rolling. There were dancers in and out of the room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move, stuck idly in your chair as you awaited act two to begin with your entrance. 

No matter how much you had soaked it, iced it, rolled it— goddamn it, prayed over it, your foot still throbbed under the constraints of your pointe shoes. It only needed to get through the next hour and a half— that’s the mantra that played like a broken record in your head in hopes of calming your very real fears of it failing you mid-performance. 

The minor piece of solace you had apart from that was that your sudden change in behavior had urged you and Satoru to get a bit more comfortable with each other as you had to begrudgingly explain to him why you had been a bit off your game. You were shocked when the man, who you were sure hadn’t a sincere bone in his body, reassured you that he’d be more cautious with you with each lift and land the two of you had ahead of you tonight given your injury. 

You watched with bated breath from the side stage as Satoru aimed the prop crossbow before turning to prance toward his stage left to mimic his hunt, the long awaited queue for your entrance. The peripherals of your vision blurred as you allowed your muscle memory to take over, and you were soon landing your grand jeté before dipping into your first bow as Odette. 

Ryomen felt each last puff of air in his lungs abandon him at the sight of you with your breathtakingly intricate, snow-white costume, truly embodying a princess. He had admittedly been growing restless throughout the first half hour of the production without so much as a glimpse of you. Now though, as the glimmering crown tucked into your hair shimmered under the stage lights, he was sure he’d wait it tenfold to relive the magnetic way you commanded the stage upon your first arabesque. 

The grip he had around the base of the bouquet he’d brought you tightened as he watched you and your partner float about the stage, twisting and turning against and around each other with a synchronicity that embodied just how much dedication you two had put into your performative chemistry— at least that’s what he hoped as your noses brushed in an almost kiss. 

Not even in his wildest dreams would he have thought he’d ever find himself sitting through a two-hour ballet, but you had him completely enraptured. He recalled what you had mentioned about the recruiters that would be coming to this performance, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was your night. The recruiters had to be captivated by you— just as every soul that was surrounding him seemed to be. 

As the show progressed, it was clear how you lost yourself inch by inch to Odette, and you soon weren’t sure where you ended and she began. You had just been starting to convince yourself that you’d make it. There was but a half hour left, and though you could feel your injured foot growing angrier and angrier with each pointed formation, you were pushing it to the back of your mind, something to be dealt with later. 

But somewhere after the fourteenth of the iconic thirty-two fouettes in a row you had to execute as your darker counterpart, Odile, was perhaps the beginning of the end for your optimism. As fate would have it, each gruelling fouette was meant to be spun off of that fucking foot, and by the end of them you were sure your face was tinted red from the way you held back your cries of pain. 

Ryomen could see it too, despite how well you disguised it as an expression of passion. His fingers dug deeper and deeper into his thighs with each spin during the sequence, because he could practically feel that bruised foot crumbling under such pressure. Despite it all— you did it, and, not only that, you made it appear damn near effortless. 

It was nearing the final number now, and he had been watching your eyes morph with each second that passed. Perhaps it wasn’t clear to anyone else, but he knew that glassy look wasn’t just your impeccable dedication to the scene. You had been changed back into your white swan costume, taking the stage with both Prince Seigfried and Rothbart as you gracefully dashed yourself between the arms of each man. It wasn’t until the final leap that Satoru would catch you from that you felt it.

Just as your pointed foot hit the stage floor, you could all but hear the tiniest of cracks. Your breath hitched, a nearly muted choke catching in your throat that luckily the audience couldn’t hear over the orchestra. Satoru did though, his hands on your waist tightening as he attempted to subtly lift you ever so slightly to take some of the weight off your foot. A whimper lingered in the back of your throat as the pain radiated up your leg. 

“It’s okay.” Your white-haired partner whispered subtly so as not to break the illusion of the performance. “You just have to make it to the lake.” 

His near silent reassurance into your ear was fleeting as you spun away from him. Make it to the lake. The words were chanting like a mantra in your head. 

Ryomen thought the armrest of his seat would snap under the pressure of his grip, watching in horror as a single tear slipped down your cheek upon that fateful landing, and he knew something had gone wrong. Judging by the way your partner seemed to subtly lean in to whisper in your ear, he knew he was right.

Still, your remaining bourrees across the stage were flawlessly executed despite you feeling the likely fracture in your foot arguably worsening with each step, and Odette was finally taken up into the arms of Rothbart, lifted high above his head to take her behind the veil of the lake to die— and that’s certainly what it felt like you were doing. 

Sukuna was out of his seat before Prince Seigfried could even properly fall to his knees to mourn the loss of his love, practically hopping over seats to get to the back. It was proven difficult, what with all the attendees rising to their feet to offer a standing ovation as the show concluded. Finally making it out of the row, he shouldered into attendants and workers until he found the backstage entrance sign. 

A worker placed a hand on his shoulder to inform him that he wasn’t authorized to go back there, but he knew the man wasn’t about to be stupid enough to fight him if he pushed his way through those doors anyway. There were troves of ballet dancers moving like ants through the hallways, all looking up at him in bewilderment as he pounded toward the dressing room at the end of the hall. 

“Oi, you all had better be fucking decent cause I’m coming in!” It was the only warning he gave along with the three cautionary pounds against the door before he burst in. There in the far back surrounded by a myriad of frazzled dancers was you, still hauntingly enchanting in your Swan Queen costume as you heaved out cries against the cold floor. The pointe shoe on your injured foot had already been wrangled off, and Satoru was frantically tearing your tights between his fingers from the ankle down to observe the damage. 

You looked up at the sudden commotion. The dramatic, black makeup that had been so intricately painted onto your face was now streaming down your cheeks in ugly, noir waves as your face scrunched up heartbreakingly at the sight of him standing before you. 

“Ryo.” You choked out helplessly between your heaving sobs of pain, and he felt his heart shatter all at once. Parting through the sea of dancers, he shoved at the white-haired man’s shoulder. 

“Move the fuck outta my way.” Sukuna bit out, probably much harsher than necessary for someone who seemed to be trying to help, but he did just watch this dude grabbing at your waist and thighs and caressing your face for damn near two hours straight. And sure, he knew it was all part of the performance, but fuck you didn’t warn him that you’d actually be kissing the dude. In spite of it all, Satoru didn’t need to be told twice before he was standing to let him take over. 

“I-I think it’s broken. I can’t m-move it—” 

“It’s okay, I’m right here.” He urged, his fingers just barely ghosting over your calf as he took in the sight of your mangled foot. It had swollen considerably within the confines of your pointe shoe over the past few hours, and the nearly black skin was hot to the touch. 

“The recruiters, Ryo— I screwed it up, I—” 

“Fuck the recruiters, I’m taking you to the fucking hospital.” You didn’t get much of a word in edgewise as he scooped you up, darting through the parted crowd and out the back exit. 

Though he wasn’t quite sure what he would say if given the chance, your frenzied sobs filled the air around you two the entire drive. He tried to calm you, but it was proven difficult with his split attention on the road. It also wasn’t clear if your cries were mainly attributed to the pain or the mental anguish. Still, with sweat beginning to bead at his temples, he grasped at your hand and placed it over his chest in a desperate attempt to get you to match his breathing. Although it seemed like you were truly trying, you continued choking up with each throb of your foot. 

Sukuna’s perpetual feeling of being absolutely worthless continued as you sat silently in the hospital bed, only your occasional sniffles breaking through the white noise of the room as you awaited the okay from the doctor to be discharged. The xray they performed confirmed your suspicions, and you had been suffering from a stress fracture. He sat in the stiff chair beside your bed, hunched over with his elbows resting on his thighs as you stared blankly at the stark white cast now covering your foot and ankle. 

Neither of you were quite sure what to say to one another. Your current state was… delicate, and he wasn’t sure that bringing up the fight would be the best idea for you right now. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he straightened his posture, eyes fluttering over you apprehensively before he cast his line out. 

“I don’t know how you do it.” He confessed sincerely, watching as your eyes cast a sidelong glance at him. 

“What, manage to fracture my foot during one of the most important performances of my life?” 

“How you let yourself feel so much for everyone to see.” His response made you flush, your brows furrowinf as you looked away from him once again. 

“I couldn’t really help it, my bone was kind of split—”

“I’m not talking about your damn foot, doll.” Ryomen sighed in exasperation. It was already difficult enough for him to be so sincere in his appreciation, and your making him spell it out was twisting the knife in his already wounded pride. “The show. I… I ain’t ever seen anything like that before. You’re just not fucking scared of yourself.” 

Twisting your arms around yourself, you gulped down whatever emotions his words seemed to ignite in you. 

“Yeah, well it doesn’t matter now. I screwed it all up.” 

“Bullshit, you had everyone hanging off their fucking seats.” 

“And they all watched me ruin it with that— that stupid landing.”

Sukuna blinked harshly in disbelief at your self-critictism. With an incredulous laugh, he leaned forward to look you in the eyes. 

“You played that shit off like nothing happened. No one noticed.” 

“You noticed.”

“Yeah, cause I fucking love you.” It tumbled out his mouth faster than he could have reeled it back in. For the second time that night, he was struck by the gruelling confusion of how the fuck it came so easily to you to pour your heart out, because it felt like he was chewing on glass right now as he awaited your response. Your glassy eyes finally looked up at him, face stained by makeup and disbelief. It all showed so clearly on your face, so bravely and unabashedly. It made him want to stand resolute for something for once in his pathetic life. “I love you.”

Soon, your lip was trembling once again as a fresh stream of tears stung at your already burning eyes. Burying your face into your hands, you shook your head. 

“I said such awful things to you, Ryo.” You cried into your palms, the guilt that had been festering over the gruelling week finally coming to fruition without the distraction of your performance to keep your mind from dwelling on it. “Y-You were just trying to help me—”

“Hey, I say mean shit all the time,” He reassured, moving from his chair to squeeze beside you in the bed. “You should’ve beat the shit outta me if we’re really trying to get equal.”

Your back shook, and he knew this time it was finally from your laughter instead of those gut-wrenching sobs that had been frequenting his ears. Desperate to catch a glimpse of your smile after so long of being met with your frown, he gently pried your hands away from your face. Ryo sighed wistfully at the sight of your wobbly grin, reaching up to wipe at the smudged makeup under your eyes. 

“You look more like a fucking racoon than a swan right now.” Your teary-eyed gaze didn’t seem to help his lack of brain-to-mouth filter at all, and he smirked at his own pathetically weak restraint. “See? I should’ve gotten my teeth knocked out for that one.”

But, of course, you only smiled at him— that glimmering eyed smile that even after all this time he felt so undeserving of. 

“Well, you’re lucky I love you then, huh?” 

His heart pounded embarrassingly against his chest, blanketed with the safety of your reciprocity. 

“The luckiest bastard I know.” He whispered before pressing a kiss gentler than he was accustomed to against your awaiting lips. 

There was a soft knock at the door that had him sighing in frustration against your face, but he pulled away from you nonetheless. When the door cracked open, it wasn’t the doctor as the both of you had been hoping so you could get the hell out of here. Instead, Choso and Yuji both filed in hesitantly as though they weren’t sure what kind of energy they’d be met with. When you smiled brightly at the sight of the various flowers in their arms, the pair felt more at ease as they stepped fully into the room. 

“That was the most metal shit I’ve ever seen in my life.” Choso was the first to gush excitedly, setting down both his and Sukuna’s abandoned bouquet in your lap. 

“So sick— I can’t believe you just walked that shit off!” Yuji was rushing to the far wall of the room to snatch the marker off the whiteboard containing the nurse’s information on it. He continued to ramble enthusiastically as he sat himself at the foot of your bed to doodle on your cast. Your eyes fluttered between him and his twin, and it was a bit disorienting seeing them side by side for the first time. “You’re a total badass.” 

“Oi, easy with her fucking foot, brat.” Ryomen grumbled as he flicked his brother in the forehead, already annoyed at both his brothers for butting into you two’s moment. 

It was clear that his bright-eyed counterpart was used to his brash nature as he completely brushed it off, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on his drawing of what you could only assume was supposed to be a swan. It was clear his twin got all the artistic ability while Yuji was left with all the sunshine. As if his drawing triggered his memory, he quickly perked up. 

“The casting was crazy too! That girl playing the black swan seriously looked just like you.”

A quiet disbelief fell over the three of you as the boy continued marking up your cast. 

“Yuji—”

“Don’t bother,” Ryo quickly stopped you from correcting him with what could only be described as a fierce look of exhaustion on his face. “He’s a little slow— it’ll come to him.”

All the artistry and the brains— got it.

gojo and itafushi crumbs because your girl is starving

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[stonerfromlesbos]

✦ all mine. | billie eilish

✦ warnings: strap usage (r!receving), breeding kink, cheating (r! has a boyfriend), !fuckboy billie, hair pulling, rough sex, !brat reader, !brat tamer billie, choking, spanking…

✦ summary: you had an new cute bf, he was awesome… but what you could do when you’re horny and all you can think about is how you miss the roughness of your ex fling?

✦ heavily inspired by ‘if you’re gonna lie, do it in my bed’ by @drunkinyourbenz

it was known that billie was no good for you, all your friends hated her… but you couldn’t help but come back everytime. she was a bitch? yes, but she fucked you like no one else.

you would always come back to her, until she started lying, you fucking hated it. she could fuck millions of girls, but you would rather hear the truth then her bullshit lies. what she thought of you? she’s really that sure that you will believe that shit? that you are that dumb?

well, you got tired of it, and you moved on. you’re dating an awesome man, who would always put you in first place and treated you like an princess… too much to be honest.

you would touch yourself remembering all the things billie used to do with you, the way she fucked you like you were her fucking toy, she was the type of rough you always needed. her voice calling you an ‘needy slut’ would soak your underwear by itself.

he was incredible, but not the way you needed him to be. he was always afraid of hurting you, literally the opposite of billie. she would spank you for hours just to slam her fake cock on your walls after.

you didn’t wanted to admit how much you missed her, and how you missed the way she fucked you.

your boyfriend wasn’t in your apartment tonight and it was 10pm, so you decided to stalk billie’s snapchat because why not? well, you were seeing each story until you saw one picture of her in the mirror.. she was wearing an tank top and some baggy jeans, you could clearly see the bulge of her strap in her pants. you clicked accidentally in ‘reply’

your heart started racing as you dropped your phone with your shaky hands… when you grabbed it off the ground you stare the message on your screen ‘reply sent.’

you tried to delete it because you literally texted her ‘w 29:!2@’

but she had seen it, maybe she was staring at her chats? because it was damn too fast. You could feel your heart racing as she started typing…

“stalkin’ me, huh? ru missing me babe?”

you could see her damn cocky smirk across the screen, you were truly fucked.

“no, i have a boyfriend, stop that.”

she had seen your message, after more than 15 minutes you stopped waiting for a reply, until she sent you a video.

she had recorded a tiktok with the same outfit she was wearing in the picture, but now showing her face… and what a fucking beautiful face.

you started to pay attention to the lyrics of the song she was lip syncing and it made you blush heavily.

“You like the way I fuck 'cause I get rough”

“You told me your new man don't make you nut”

“that's a damn shame.”

“You come here, I'll knock your pussy out the damn frame”

“come over.” thats all you could type, she quickly replied “omw.”

you could help but feel guilty for your poor boyfriend, but you needed to fuck, needed to fuck with someone who knew how to fuck you.

You heard her knocking on your door, as you quickly rush to open it for her. You were wearing an baby tee that you knew she loved, with some baggy sweatpants. you opened the door for her, eyeing her up and down.

“hey” she says entering your apartment, and looking at the new things you and your boyfriend had bought.

“hi…” you speak almost quietly as she turns around to stare at you with her hungry blue eyes.

“i still don’t get why you ghosted me just to call me back months after.” she says in a cocky tone, smirking as she stared at you.

“because you’re a fuckin’ liar, i hate that” her gaze on you was more than intense, as she softly giggled.

“you really do? why you asked me to come over then?” she said smirking and getting closer to you.

“to fuck me, thats all you can do apparently.” you say with a raspy tone, slightly teasing her but keeping your composure.

“are you sure? because i think all you can do is beg for me to fuck you… don’t you feel bad about your boyfriend?” she says with the same smirk in her face

“wow, you’re still the same bitch.” you start to lose control, trying to not think about your boyfriend.

“and you’re still the same needy slut.” she said with her smirk even bigger this time, you just grab her arm and lead her to your bedroom, tired of her bullshit

“shut the fuck up and do what you came here to do.” you say closing your bedroom door as she justs stares at you

“who tf you think you’re talkin’ to?” she always got pissed off when you told her to shut up, and you knew that damn well.

“should i be scared of you? you’re pathetic billie, you came to my house in less then 5 minutes after i ghosted you for months and im the needy slut?” you say with an cocky smirk on your face, giggling sarcastically

“stop actin’ like a fuckin’ brat.” she says taking a deep breath, she loved when you teased her, it just gave her an excuse to destroy you even more.

“or what?” you tease her more, wanting her to lose control and do what she does best, you could feel her getting closer to you and grabbing your neck with one hand while she stared at you with her half lided blue eyes, it honestly made your body shiver.

“shut the fuck up or i will make sure your cute boyfriend sees all the bruises im gonna let on you.” she wasn’t smirking anymore, she was being so fucking serious, you couldn’t help but do what she deeply wanted you to do.

“bet you can’t do that even if you wanted to.” as you says that billie’s eyes darkened, she slapped your face as her other hand was squeezing your neck even tighter. searching permission in your face, as you smirked and made her even more excited to ruin you.

“stop being a fuckin’ brat. on the bed, now.” she says letting go of your neck as you obediently sit on the corner of the bed. as she got in front of you, and you unbuckled her belt seeing the bulge of her strap as she stared at you. your eyes widened in fear as her pants were on the ground, it was an new one, much bigger than the one she had before.

“are you scared now babydoll?” she says chuckling with the same smirk on her face

“billie im not used to this big...” you said pathetically looking up at her with your dolly big eyes, knowing that after what you did, she would make sure to pound the shit out of you.

“you’re going to fuckin’ take what i give you, understand?” she says looking down at you. she lowered herself to grab an little pot with an white substance in it, quickly she holded her on strap putting it inside a hole on the tip of her cock… you quickly realized that it wasn’t an normal strap, it was the kind of that could cum.

“gon’ make such a mess of that pretty face of yours.” she says grabbing your hands and making an messy ponytail with her own hands, your hands started to go up to her hips as you looked at her with your puppy eyes.

“open up for me baby.. good girl” she says as you open your mouth for her faux cock. she starts quickly to pound your throat as your both hands are on her hips, trying to push her away as you just gag on it.

“fuckin’ take it, i dont care if its too big.” her pace even speeds as you’re almost throwing up, she slow down, letting you do the job instead.. she was gently caressing your hair as you were sucking her cock… she suddenly take it out your mouth, you just stare at her with an confused face.

“put your tongue out and look at me.” she says grabbing her faux cock and pressing an little button on the bottom of the strap.. quickly her strap started to gush loads of cum on your face, you couldn’t help but smile still with your tongue out, staring deeply at her eyes.

“such a slut, do you enjoy having my cum all over you huh?” you nod your head as she gaves you another slap on the cheek “swallow it and answer me.” you quickly swallow all of her liquid that was on your mouth.

“i do..” you look up at her, wiping the sticky liquid off your face with your own mattress getting up from the corner of the bed as she looks at you confused. you took her belt that was on the floor, with it on your hands you go towards her again.

“what you’re doing?” she says with an smirk as her hands go down on both of your sides grabbing your hips tightly, pulling you closer to her.

“let me have some fun rn, okay?” you say grabbing both of her wrists, tying it up on her back as you pushed her to lay on the bed.

“god i missed you so much.” billie says as you start striping your clothes off, you were left only in panties as you crawl towards her, straddling her sides and feeling the pressure of her strap against your clothed dripping clothed cunt.

“i missed you more.” you say starting to grind on her cock, rubbing it against your throbbing clit.

“fuckin’ sit on it.” she demands but you laugh on her face.

“needy are we?” you say in a mocking tone, you knew she was fucking pissed with you and it was a damn privilege that she let you take control for even an minute after all you said. billie was experienced in this, and she untied herself with no effort.

“i was going to let you fuckin’ ride me, but you need to be a brat all the time… so you will be fucked like a brat.” she switched your places quickly, she got off the bed adjusting her strap.

“face down, ass up.” that was her favorite position, and you fucking loved it too. you quickly obey her, grabbing the sheets in antecipation.

“what an fucking pathetic slut, minutes ago you were teasing me now you’re afraid?” she giggles mocking you as billie put your underwear to the side, slamming her cock inside of you without any warning, you were left with your mouth open and your eyes rolling back as she started to pound your poor pussy.

your face is buried in the sheets by now, as your moans turns almost into screams of pleasure. she pounded you roughly as she played with your clit… and with the other hand, she would spank the shit out of your ass.

“can’t tease me now, huh? pathetic slut.”

she said as the hand who was smacking your ass goes up to grab a fistful of hair, pulling your head back.

“fucking tell me what you’re.” her pace speeded up even more, she wanted to make even more hard to you to answer.

“i-im’ a pa- mhm.. pathetic s-slut mh~” her hand goes down to your neck as she starts to pound you even deeper, her fingers on your chin as you try to suck in it, but you couldn’t let your mouth closed when she was fucking you that good.

you were getting close, and she could feel your walls tightening around her cock.

“cum.” she says with an raspy demanding voice, as you reached the edge. your legs were shaking as she pounded you in a slow pace, letting you ride through your orgasm.

“lay on the bed babe.” she says with an more soft voice, contrasting with the way she was treating you before. you lay on the bed with your stomach up as she climbs on top of you, putting your leg on her shoulder.. and after that you knew that this night was going to be long. she was going deep and slow low, taking her time to hit your g spot.

“gonna’ cum inside of you and make you a fuckin’ mama.” she says looking deeply at your eyes as you push her into an kiss, the kiss was needy and slow. while her tongue was exploring your mouth, her pace speeded up making you moan in the middle of the kiss.

“mhm fuckin’ f-fill me up… p-please.” it was all she needed to hear, she pounded into you roughly and deep, as one of her hands were on your neck, choking you.

she quickly decided to give some attention to your poor tits, billie sucked on your nipples while she was still pounding your pussy.

“gonna fill you up until your tits spill milk, mamas’” she says getting breathless, pouding you in an pace that you thought was impossible to achieve.

“bet your boyfriend can’t get you like this mamas’… gonna fuckin’ steal you from him and make you my baby mama.” she says looking at your eyes and seeing them rolling back as she continues to hit your g spot with no mercy.

“u’ close mamas?” she asked you grabbing your tits and pounding you even faster.

“mh- c-c-close mhm~” you couldn’t even think, she was fucking your brains out.

“you get so dumb on my cock” she said smirking as your walls tightened against her faux cock, her pace slowed down as you rided though your orgasm.

her hand gone down your tits to her own strap, pressing the same button before. and quickly gushing her cum inside of you, she pounded on you a few more times before pulling it out. billie took a moment to stare at your cunt dripping her cum from inside, she smirked proudly.

“you’re so pretty when i fuck your brains out of u.” she says caressing your left cheek and laying on your side on the bed.

you instantly lay on her chest waiting for her to wrap her arms around you.. but she doesn’t do that, she gets off the bed instead. you stared at her with confusion.

“break up with him and after that we can cuddle.” she says taking her pants and belt, putting it on again as she brushes her hair with her fingers, she puts her shoes on and starts to make her way out your room.

“if he asks about all these bruises, tell him who fuck you like you deserve.” she winked at you smirking cockily as she leaves your bedroom, making her way out your apartment. you quickly realized that you were literally all bruised.

“fuck.”

HOPE YALL LIKE THIS..

yes i couldn’t decide and did both of them

[traveler-at-heart]

The Doctor's In - Part 5

Wanda Maximoff x Doctor!R

Summary: The evolution of your relationship with Wanda. Includes some smut.

Always late. You’ve learned the lesson, so you don’t even bother with the coffee, because it’s cold by the time you leave the house.

Of course, you didn’t have time to do groceries either so you’re stuck with an almost rotten banana.

As you leave the house, Wanda opens up the door of her own home, calling for the twins.

You smile, while she signals for you to walk over.

“Hey, beautiful” you say, admiring her outfit. You know she has a meeting with her editor. “All ready for today?”

“Yeah, it’s just the kids are late. Boys, come on” she turns back to you, smiling. “Here. I packed you lunch”

“How did you know I have nothing edible?” you swoon, taking the brown paper bag, and leaning to kiss her. She hums against your lips and you feel her little smile. “You’re out of this world, Miss Maximoff”

Wanda wants to prolong the contact, but hears the kids stomping down the stairs and you break apart. Yes, you’ve spent more time with them, basically whenever you’re off work. But there hasn’t been the awkward “what are we” talk and the subsequent chat of how to tell Billy and Tommy. If there’s anything to tell, that is.

“Hey, Y/N” Billy says, throwing his bagpack in the trunk of the car.

“Are you coming for dinner tonight? We just defeated Rypto!” Tommy says excitedly.

“I have to work for the next day and a half, but after that, sure”

The boys nod, disappointed and Wanda rolls her eyes.

“I’m a little jealous of how much they like you. Seems like I’m their second favorite person now” she says in a low voice, your eyes traveling to her lips.

“You are my favorite person, in case that helps” you admit, making her blush.

“Have a good day” Wanda says, and you nod, wanting nothing more than to kiss her.

“Text you later” you promise, squeezing her hand and walking to your own car, hoping your shift goes by soon, eager to have Wanda in your arms again.

The day starts normal enough. It’s more paperwork than consults or any emergency, but you still make your rounds and review the pending discharged patients.

For once, you get to have lunch at a decent time, eager to eat whatever it is Wanda made for you.

There’s a chicken sandwich, from yesterday’s leftovers of that heavenly paprikash dish she made, a couple of cookies and a note.

“Have a nice day. XOXO - W”

“Where’d you get those cookies?” Darcy says, approaching you. Holding the container close to your chest, you growl at her. “No, bad Cujo!”

In spite of your best efforts, she snatches one of the cookies.

“These are fantastic cookies”

“Wanda made them”

“Oh, did Mommy pack you lunch?” Darcy says in a fake baby voice and you glare.

“Keep that up and I’m not sharing any more cookies, Lewis”

“I was kidding. I love you, friend” she bats her eyelashes, sitting next to you. “So, is the sex better than the baked goods?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t done it yet” you admit, avoiding her eyes.

“Because…”

“Because the kids are always around or I’m too tired… I don’t know. We’re just spending time together and seeing where it goes”

“And how does that make you feel?” Darcy says, reaching for another cookie.

“It’s fine… but I guess it’s all new to me. I dated in college, but ever since I started working here all I do is be at the hospital… and be with people from the hospital”

“And now you’re in this potential relationship, where she has two kids. Talk about going from 0 to 100” Darcy pats your back and you nod. “It’s gonna be fine, Y/N. All you have to do is talk it out”

“Thanks, Darcy. Here, you earned half of the last cookie”

“Half? That was solid advice” she mumbles, chewing on it.

You laugh, promising you’ll share more cookies the next time Wanda makes some. She leaves to supervise a resident doing an appy, and you go back to the ER.

“Help! Someone!” you see a paramedic with blood all over his shirt.

“Drax, what’s wrong?”

“Peter was turning around the corner, after dropping someone off and a car crashed against the ambulance”

“Ok, let’s go. Bishop, you’re with me. Page Chief Fury” you ask a nurse, the young resident following you closely.

As soon as you turn around the block, you spot the ambulance and make out Quill’s body, hanging upside down.

“Bring stretchers for the other driver and his passenger” you tell Kate. With a sigh, you kneel next to the ambulance, crawling between broken glass. You notice a sharp pain in your elbow, but lean forward until you’re touching Quill’s neck, looking for a pulse.

As soon as you touch him, he jolts awake, screaming.

“Ah, Jesus, Quill” you curse, hitting your head against the dashboard.

“What happened?” he looks around, disoriented.

“Someone crashed into you. Do you feel anything strange?”

“I can’t feel my legs” he says, looking at you. You gulp, not knowing what to say.

Peter is your friend, even if you only see each other at work. He’s the guy that shares his snacks, that cracks a joke when you’re down just to make you laugh. A man that you’ve known for three years, and now you have to tell him he might not make it.

“What do we got?” Fury shows up on the other side.

“Just hanging” Quill jokes, but you can’t bring yourself to even smile. “I can’t breath, there’s pressure in my chest”

“Hold on tight, the firemen are on their way to get you out” Fury asks, signaling for you to meet him around the ambulance while Kate takes his vitals.

“What do you think?”

“It’s not good” you admit in a low voice. “He can’t feel his legs, but I also can’t see anything below his chest. I don’t know what will happen if we move him, Chief”

“But if we don’t…”

“He’s going to die”

“Let’s take care of the pressure on his chest first”

“Should we page cardio?”

“If you can handle it, go ahead. Quill works with you, he trusts you”

You nod, running back to the hospital to get everything you need to treat Quill’s cardiac tamponade. By the time you’re back, Kate is trying to keep him awake.

“He has low blood pressure”

“Come on, Quill, stay with me” you ask, preparing everything. You unbutton his shirt, gloved fingers trying to sense the exact spot to extract the liquid on his chest. It takes you a moment because he is upside down, but you get it and pull the syringe, filling up with dark fluid.

You and Kate sigh with relief as Quill gasps for air, opening his eyes.

“Did I die for a second?” he says, coughing. “Doc, I need you to tell something to Gamora”

“Quill, tell her yourself when you’re out of here” you try to ignore the request, avoiding the conversation.

“Just tell her to look on my old cassettes, please. She needs to know I did get a ring”

A ring. Fuck. You lock eyes and nod.

“Firemen are here” Kate says, waving at the men.

“Clint Barton” the man introduces himself, assessing the mess around Quill. “We’ll do everything we can to help him” he promises, and you nod.

As they begin to work, you go back next to Quill, trying to distract him.

“Got any music?”

“Sure” you pull out your phone, handing it over so he can play whatever he wants.

Come and get your love starts playing and you both sing. Three more songs pass before Barton lets you know they are ready to release him.

“Bishop and Drax, ready with the stretcher” you say, the other paramedic getting ready to drag Peter’s body out as soon as he can.

"Hold on. Promise me you'll tell her" Quill says again and you nod.

“3… 2…”

There’s a loud, metallic bang and then Quill’s body falls forward. It all happens in seconds and by the time you walk around the ambulance, Drax is wheeling him to the ER.

For a split second, you think he’s going to be fine because he’s consciouss, looking around.

And then his mouth is full of blood, choking sounds mixing with the noises of the hospital.

“Crash cart” you ask, starting CPR.

“Charge to 200” Fury asks, and you step aside when it’s time.

“I need a round of Epi” you say, urgency in your voice.

Charge, clear, another round.

You’re at it for ten minutes, and you can’t feel your arms, or hear anything else other than the continuous beep of the monitor. A bead of sweat rolls down your forehead, but you keep doing CPR.

Just five more minutes.

“That’s enough” Fury says, pushing you aside. “Call it”

“No, Sir”

“Doctor Y/L/N, step away from the patient” he says, his voice booming across the room. You shake your head no, and then turn to the monitor, hoping something changes.

“He was going to propose to his girlfriend. He has to make it. Come on, come on, come on” you mutter.

Fury stands next to you, a soft look on his face.

“He’s gone, Y/N. I’m sorry”

You break down, tears rolling down your face and mixing with the sweat.

Sitting on the hallway, you catch your breath, unaware of the blood dripping from your elbow until Darcy rushes to your side.

“Hey, let’s clean that up, ok?” she says, helping you up.

“What can I do?” Carol approaches, noticing how your eyes are unfocused.

“I think we should call Wanda” Darcy suggests.

“Her phone number should be on Billy’s record, I’ll go get it” Carol nods.

You don’t even react to Darcy as she cleans up the wound, or when she mentions you’ll need a few stitches. She could have done it without the anesthesia and you wouldn’t have noticed.

“Thanks” you say when she’s cleaning up, and the woman leans forward, squeezing your hand.

“Don’t mention it”

—

Wanda recognises the hospital’s number and picks up, expecting everything except Carol’s voice.

“Hello, Doctor Danvers” she says, trying to figure out what’s going on.

“Hi, Wanda. It’s about Y/N”

Carol didn’t have to tell her twice. Wanda drives from her editor’s office to the hospital in record time. She notices an ambulance and a fire truck; her heart beats faster at the sight of blood, hoping it’s not yours.

“Wanda?” a short brunette with glasses greets the woman. “Darcy Lewis, come with me”

“Is she hurt?” Wanda asks, getting more worried as Darcy leads her through the staff door.

“Only a cut in her arm. She’s just… shaken” Darcy stops at the door. “One of the paramedics died”

“I’m sorry to hear that”

“Chief Fury said she should go home, we just didn’t want her to be alone”

Darcy finally opens the door, Wanda’s heart breaking at the sight before her.

You’re sitting on the floor, head hanging in defeat between your hands. She can see your fingers threading through the loose hairs of your ponytail, something you do when you’re anxious.

“Y/N” she kneels slowly, and you look up, wiping your tears. “It’s ok. I’m here”

“I’m sorry” you say, and you’re not sure what is it you’re apologizing for.

“None of that, my love. Come on” she takes your hand, helping you up.

Before leaving the room, you take Darcy’s hand, smiling.

“Thank you, Darcy”

“Get some rest, pal” she says, as Wanda leads you back to her car.

“Let’s go home” Wanda says against your temple, kissing the spot softly.

You don’t say a word during the entire drive, looking out the window. Wanda’s car stops and with it, the radio. The silence finally snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry for the trouble, I hope I didn’t interrupt your meeting”

“It’s fine. Do you…”

“Thanks for the ride” you say, exiting the car. You’re about to walk to your house when Wanda goes after you.

“You can come over. It’s ok”

“I need to shower” you notice how dirty you feel, blood staining parts of your arms and pants.

“Take a shower in my bathroom, and I’ll lend you some clothes”

“You sure?”

“Yes, darling. Now, come on”

You allow her to guide you upstairs, stepping foot in her room for the first time. Wanda leads you to the ensuite bathroom, handing you a towel.

“I’ll leave some clothes on the bed, ok?”

All you do is nod, and she wishes there was more she could do, but she just silently retreats, giving you space.

The pressure of the water is nice and you feel infinitely better when you step out of the shower, noticing the stitches on your arm with a frown.

“Everything good?” Wanda says as you go down the steps. You nod and she tries to smile. “Did you eat anything? I could prepare something…”

Her words are interrupted by your lips. It’s a short kiss, but you hope it can speak for itself.

“Thank you” you lean your forehead against hers, eyes closed. Allowing her scent to ground you, you breathe.

“What can I do?” Wanda asks, her hands over yours.

“Can we watch tv?”

“Come here” she smiles, taking your hand. She sits on the couch, motioning for you to lay your head on her lap. You’re not really paying attention to the show, but the way she runs her fingers through your hair relaxes you, and you drift off, fast asleep.

By the time you wake up, Wanda is on top of you, her head tucked in the crook of your neck. You smile, appreciating how peaceful she looks. She must sense you staring, because she stirrs awake, yawning.

“Hi” she says, looking around. You smile, your hands going to her lower back, and something shifts inside you. You’re not thinking at all, just acting on your feelings as you take her lips in yours, your tongue asking for permission. Wanda moans and you pull her closer, one of your hands holding her in place while you kiss down her neck, unbuttoning her blouse until her bra is exposed.

“Y/N” she stutters, and you hum against her neck. Wanda forgets what she was about to say when she feels you sucking on the skin, sure that you will leave a mark. When you place your leg between hers, creating friction she gets lost again, until you speed up.

“What’s wrong?” you say, when she stands up, fixing her hair.

“The kids… uh, I should…”

“Wanda” you plead, looking sadly at her. “Did I do something?”

“No, it’s not you, I…”

“Please talk to me”

Wanda breaths, hoping what she’s about to say won’t push you away.

“I can’t… I feel too much, Y/N. If we do this, if we sleep together, there’s no turning back. Because everyday, I fall in love with you even more. And I’m scared that you’re not going to feel the same”

It’s so stupid of her, to fall in love. You never spoke about the future or expectations. She doesn’t even know if you want kids or marriage, and she comes with two children who are wonderful, but a huge committment.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, please” she starts to ramble again, misinterpreting your silence. “Maybe we should…”

You lean forward, stopping her with a kiss.

“I love you” you say against her lips. As soon as she hears the words, her eyes open.  “Everything about you, everything about the boys you raised and who are so kind and wonderful because they’re like you, Wanda”

“You… I love you too” she laughs, a tear rolling down her cheek. She feels relief, happiness, amazement. You kiss the spot where the tear is, leaning your forehead against her temple.

“All these years I’ve been alone and I didn’t realise how lonely it felt until you. I should have told you sooner, I’m sorry”

“It’s ok. I love you” she repeats over and over again, her lips against yours. You smile into the kiss, happy that she feels the same.

After a few minutes of kissing and hugging, she pulls apart, sighing.

“We need to tell the kids” she says. Well, that’s certainly not your area of expertise.

“How do you want to do it?”

“Let’s take them out for pizza and just explain everything? They’ll get distracted with the food” Wanda laughs and you nod.

“Alright. That’s a plan” you kiss her again, but your eyes drift down, her blouse still undone.

“Behave” she warns, sitting up.

“Can you blame me?” you sigh, admiring how beautiful she looks.

“Come on, let’s get the boys from soccer practice” she offers her hand and you take it, smiling.

When you leave the house, the sight of your empty driveway reminds you your car is still in the hospital. You have a promise to keep about a certain ring.

“Everything ok?” Wanda says when you stay silent.

“Yeah, I just gotta do some stuff later”

“Ok”

The boys are ecstatic when they see you climb out of the car, running towards you.

“Mom, we have a match next Friday, can Y/N come?” Tommy says as they put their bags in the trunk.

“If she doesn’t have work, sure” Wanda smiles, taking a breath. Understanding that it’s time, you stand next to her, fidgeting with your hands. “Boys, there’s something we want to tell you. Y/N and I are… together”

“How is that?” Billy tilts his head. “Like a girlfriend?”

“Yes, that would be it” Wanda nods, not knowing what else to say. You step in, kneeling so you can look at Tommy and Billy.

“Hey, kiddos. I just want you to know I love you both very much and I love your mom as well. All I want is to take care of you and make her happy. But if you feel weird about it, or you have questions just tell us, ok? Your Mom’s priority will always be you two”

The boys take a second to think and then nod, laughing when you ruffle their hair. Wanda takes your hand, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

“Are we going to have a new baby, then?”

“What?” you turn so fast you almost lose your footing.

“Sally said that’s how babies are made and you’re holding hands right now” Tommy explains.

“Oh, that’s not how babies are made” you laugh it off, in spite of Wanda’s warning glare.

“How are babies made, then?” Billy says and you go pale.

Yeap, walked right into that one. Wanda seems to be unwilling to help, as she tried to stop you.

“Who wants pizza?” you say, the kids forgetting about their question and running to the car. “That was the most stressful moment of my life and I’m a trauma surgeon”

You collapse in Wanda’s arms, breathing out.

“Come on, drama queen” she laughs, kissing your temple. “Let’s get some food, and maybe later you can show me how babies are made?”

“Mmhm” you nod, your brain turning to mush. “Tease”

—

“Are you going to the game tomorrow?” Wanda speaks and you’re half listening, as if her words are from a distant dream.

“Sure” you say against her skin, kissing and licking the column of her neck. She holds on to your shoulders as you go down, and you feel her shake in your lap.

“Wait. I’m asking for a reason”

“Ok” you nod, breaking apart.

“Would you like to do something after the game?” Wanda says and you wonder why she’s so nervous.

“Yeah, like take them to the movies?”

“No, the boys will be at a sleepover. I meant you and me”

“Oh” you say, heart beating faster at the implication. You’ll have the house to yourselves for the first time since you started dating.

“I can make dinner and we’ll stay in” Wanda offers.

“You’re always making dinner, baby”

“It’s just pasta, the easiest thing in the world”

“I wouldn’t know, I’m a terrible cook” you smile against her lips. “My offer for a dinner date somewhere nice stands”

“You can bring a fancy bottle of wine and dessert” she offers.

“I can think of a few things for dessert” you blurt out, eyes going down her body.

The way her eyes darken tells you she got the hint, so you change positions, you on top of her as she giggles.

“I love you” you kiss her, but your pager interrupts you. “And I have to go”

“You sure you have to go?” she asks, her legs around your waist. You’re questioning your choices when the pager goes off again. “Ok, never mind”

“Sorry, love” you kiss her before standing up, admiring how beautiful she looks with those kiss swollen lips.

As soon as you arrive at the hospital, you’re running around between patients and emergencies.

“Hey, pal. No lunch today?” Darcy says when you meet at the cafeteria.

“No, had to leave in a rush” you carry your tray to a nearby table, sitting with your friend.

“Did you tell Peter’s girlfriend?” she asks.

“At the funeral, yeah. Figured it might be better if she had her friends and sister around for support” you sigh, still shaken about what happened earlier in the week.

It was the worst feeling, being in the ER and seeing an ambulance arrive, thinking Quill might come down and tell you a joke or ask about your day, only to remember he was gone.

“Thank you for calling Wanda, by the way”

“Carol did” Darcy says and you choke on your soda, making her laugh. “Don’t worry, they were both playing nice”

“Right, well, I’ll thank her later”

“We want cookies, and by we, I mean me” she demands.

“I’ll see what I can do” you say, eating your burger with a smile. The minute Wanda knows Darcy loves her baked goods she’ll never stop sending her some, that’s how amazing she is.

After eating, Darcy and you find an on-call room to chill, each one in a bed.

Wanda: I’m at the mall.

Y/N: What are you getting, baby?

Wanda: Stuff

Wanda: Which one is better? Red or white?

You frown, not knowing if she’s refering to something in particular. And then she sends two pictures of lingerie sets, making you drop your phone in your face.

“Ew, are you sexting?” Darcy says, laughing as you rub the spot where your phone hit you.

“No. Gotta prep for surgery” you say, leaving in a hurry.

“Freak!” she shouts as you close the door.

Y/N: Both are… wow.

Y/N: But red. Definitely red.

You’re eager to get a reply, but you have a surgery to do.

While in the OR, you briefly forget about your conversation, teaching Kate how to do the procedure.

“Whose phone is ringing?” you say, after several notifications.

“That’s yours, Doc”

“Oh, sorry everyone” you laugh. “Kate, can you check what it is?”

The woman nods, reading from the previews in the lock screen.

“It says “Just got it”, a couple of pictures, and can’t wait for you to…”

“Aaah, that’s enough. Thank you, Doctor Bishop” you say, blushing. “Come back so you can watch the next part of the procedure”

When you finally get to see the photos she sent you’re about to call a crash cart for yourself.

You keep staring at the pictures revealing just a little bit of the top of the set on Wanda’s body.

This is the best day of your life.

You’re even tempted to just meet her at the soccer game and take her back to your car.

But, when the time comes, you behave, parking around the field and waving at the boys, who are warming up.

“Hey, you made it…” Wanda greets, looking adorable with a baseball cap and her hair lose. You don’t let her finish, crashing your lips against hers, hands on her waist.

“Tease” you say with a smile and she laughs.

“Come on, let’s sit over here”

She points to a bench that is under the shade of a tree. Most of the crowd in the field are other moms, cheering for their children.

“Wow, Tommy’s really fast” you say, watching as the kid sprints to get the ball. “Come on!”

You lift Wanda in the air as he scores a goal, yelling like he just won the World Cup.

“Did you see that? He was amazing! Two kids were after him and he managed to get past their defense” you say, standing up and approaching the edge of the field. Wanda laughs at how invested you become in the game, shouting your suggestions to the kids or cheering them on when they get the ball.

Coach Hill notices the new face among the crowd, appreciating the level of committment. Unlike other parents, you seem to know a thing or two about the sport.

As the game is about to end, one kid kicks the ball a little too hard, bouncing on another boy’s head. Everyone gasps and you run to the field.

“Hey, it’s ok” you calm him down as he touches the place where the ball hit him. “What’s your name?”

“Will”

“Will, hi. I’m Y/N”

“Excuse me” a woman kneels next to you. “That’s my son”

“Can I check him? I’m a doctor” you say, trying to ease her nerves.

“Ok”

You nod, helping him up and walking to the bleachers. Kneeling to be at eye level, you check his pupils, and ask him to follow your finger.

“Will, what day is today?”

“Friday”

“Can you repeat after me? Today is a sunny day”

“Today is a sunny day” he says without difficulty.

“And what are you gonna ask your mom for dinner? Because I’m pretty sure she’ll get you anything you want right now”

“McDonald’s!”

You laugh, standing up and turning to his mother.

“He’s fine, just ice the place where he got hit. If he’s nauseous or dizzy, take him to the doctor as soon as possible”

“Thank you so much…”

“Y/N” you offer your hand, and she takes it, making the contact last a little longer.

“Y/N. Could I have your phone number? Just in case I have questions” she says, hand going to squeeze your forearm.

“Sharon, I’m so happy Will is ok” Wanda comes to the rescue, her hand around your arm. “Lucky for you my girlfriend was here”

You smile at the word girlfriend, feeling like a teenager.

“Oh, you two?” Sharon says, gaping. Wanda smiles, but there’s a dangerous glint in her eyes. “Right! I should take Will home, he needs to rest”

“Ok, you do that. Feel better, sweetheart” Wanda waves at the boy, and then turns to you. “I hate Sharon”

“Don’t be jealous”

“I’m not!” she says too quickly for your liking. You smile and she rolls her eyes. “I have to find the boys, don’t get into more trouble”

“I won’t” you promise, smiling because Wanda is in fact, very jealous. You’re watching her walk away -and admiring how good she looks in a pair of jeans- when someone speaks behind you.

“Very impressive. I’m Coach Hill” the woman introduces herself and you give her your name. “Nice to see some new faces here. Especially people who know the game”

“Oh, I just watch the Women’s World Cup, that’s all”

“It’s better than the men’s” Maria says and you laugh, agreeing. “Would you be interested in helping out? Most parents just want to bring food to fundraising events, but it would be nice to have an assistant coach who also knows first aid”

You blink a few times, watching as Wanda approaches, walking behind Maria.

“Oh, well…”

“We could talk it over dinner”

Too late. Wanda tilts her head in that way that makes her look so dangerous (and hot)

“Y/N works so many hours, I’m not sure she has the bandwith. I can barely get her to myself most days, right baby?” she kisses your cheek, making you blush.

“Yeah, long hours at the hospital”

“My offer stands” the coach says, not backing out from a challenge. You wait until she’s away to turn to Wanda.

“Babe, I didn’t do anything! I promise I was just standing here…”

“There’s something you should know about me” Wanda interrupts, whispering hotly against your ear. “I don’t like to share”

“I…” you stutter when she looks into your eyes. Wanda holds your chin with her thumb and index finger.

“Is that understood?”

“Y-yes”

“Good girl” she smiles, kissing you, her tongue swiping across your bottom lip.

You have a dumb expression as she walks to her car.

“See you at home” she says, making sure everyone in the parking lot hears her.

You blush as Sharon eyes you with a smirk, and you sprint to your car before anyone else gets any crazy ideas. 

When you get home, Wanda is helping the kids set up their overnight bags while they shower.

“Can you drive them to their friend’s house? I have to do a couple of things here. You can take my car”

“Sure. I’ll shower and come back”

To your surprise, they’re both excited about the sleepover. You vividly remember hating those and your mom had to pick you up in the middle of the night more than once.

“Be good, ok? I’ll come get you tomorrow” Wanda asks. You check your phone for the address, noticing it’s a short distance.

“Are you and mom having a sleepover too?” Billy says and you smile.

“Yeah, we’ll probably watch movies and eat lots of candy” you joke, trying not to think about Wanda in lingerie. Not while you’re driving her children and your brain can malfunction in the middle of the road.

“I hope she doesn’t get sad because we’re gone” Tommy says as you wait for their friend to open up the door.

“I’ll take care of her for you. You just worry about having fun”

“Ok” they both nod, and you raise your hands for a high five.

On the way back, you get the wine and some tiramisu from a nice bakery downtown, thinking Wanda might appreciate the time alone to finish her errands.

After stopping at the gas station to fill up her tank, you head back, parking in her driveway and taking the stuff you bought inside.

“I’m back” you say, but are met with silence as you close the door. “Wanda?”

Slightly worried, you go up the stairs, making sure she knows you’re coming.

“Go ahead” she says as you knock on her door.

“Hey, you ok?” you say, stopping as soon as you take in the view before you.

Wanda, sitting at the edge of her bed, wearing the lingerie set she showed you before. The bed has rose petals scattered, and there are some candles lighting up the room.

“Is this too much? I just wanted it to be special” she says, standing up. You take a step forward, and the only thing you can do is kneel, admiring every inch of skin on display.

Wanda gasps, anticipation building up as she watches you run your hands up and down her thighs.

“I knew I was gonna have the best meal of my life tonight” you say, kissing her legs. She holds your shoulders as her knees shake, squeezing harder when your nose nudges her center, eager to taste her.

“Bed” is her only command and you nod, lifting her up in your arms and carrying her the short distance. You try to set her down gently, but she pulls you roughly as soon as her back hits the mattress.

When Wanda moves further down, she groans.

“Ouch, ouch, my ass”

“Your ass is great, baby”

“No” she protests, and you don’t know if she’s laughing or crying. “I have a thorn in my butt. I guess I didn’t remove all of them from the roses”

“Turn around” you ask, inspecting every inch of her delicious behind. “Ah, here it is. This will hurt a bit”

“Son of a bitch” Wanda says as you pull it out. You hold back a laugh, but can’t help yourself when she screams into a pillow. Annoyed at your mood, she throws it blindly behind her, completely missing.

“Babe, it’s ok. Just lay on your stomach for a bit and the pain will pass soon”

“I wanted this to be romantic. There’s nothing romantic about a thorny butt”

“Well, I don’t mind the view” you admit, enjoying how the position is accentuating the curve of her lower back, and the skimpy underwear allows you to admire her ass.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better” she mumbles against the duvet.

“Is that such a bad thing?” you ask, hovering over her, kissing behind her ear, down her neck and the space between her shoulders.

“I suppose not” she admits, holding back a moan.

“Let me take care of you, baby” you say, kissing and licking your way down her body. As you go further down, you kiss the inside of her thighs, around her center and anywhere but the place she needs the most.

Wanda enjoys a little too much the anticipation, her position keeping her from watching your next move. She grabs another pillow, hoping to squeeze it hard enough to keep her from screaming.

“Don’t hold back” you tsk, pushing her underwear aside and moaning at the view in front of you. She’s so wet and ready and how you wished you had some of the toys you enjoy using so much, just to stretch her. But for now, all you need is to taste her, so you dart your tongue out, small licks flicking the bundle of nerves until Wanda whimpers, moving her hips against your face, begging for more.

You hold her hips in place, and give in to her silent request, going deeper and licking up and down, enjoying how erratic her movements get when she’s close to the edge.

“Don’t stop” she pleads when you crawl back up, kissing her back, leaving some of her juices glistening on her beautiful skin.

“Baby, I want to ask you something” you whisper in her ear. “Do you ever touch yourself?”

“I…” she tries to create some friction with her legs.

“Answer me”

“Yes”

“Do you use any toys?” you ask, one of your hands traveling to her center, rubbing gently.

“Yes” she says, this time a little out of breath.

“Want to use one right now?”

“I just want you” she pleads, burying her face between her arms, flushed and taken aback by her own desire.

“You’re doing so good for me. If it’s too much just tell me, promise?”

“Mhm” she nods, her breathing getting faster as she feels your hands pulling down her underwear, the cold air hitting her pussy.

“God, you’re so hot” you say, your thumb going down to gently tease her clit, suspecting Wanda was too sensitive.

After a few minutes of massaging her clit, she begins to sigh and moan, moving her hips. It doesn’t take long for her to ask exactly what she wants.

“More, please”

“Is this ok?” you say, teasing her entrance with one of your fingers. Wanda doesn’t answer, moaning and panting instead. “Lift your legs a little bit for me, can you do that?”

Wanda nods, spreading her legs and leaning on her knees so her ass is slightly elevated. You lay on your back, allowing her to straddle your face and leaving enough room to finger her.

“You taste amazing” you say, pulling her down so she’s almost sitting on your face. You hear Wanda moan, but you’re too focused on the slick that’s dripping down her cunt and all over your chin.

When you feel like she’s ready, you begin to massage her clit, while two of your fingers are swallowed by her pussy. She’s tight, but seems to enjoy it, moaning loudly when you move inside of her.

“Yes, fuck, please keep going” Wanda says, moving her hips faster.

“Look at you, so full and ready. Can’t wait to fuck you with my dick” you say, getting wet at the idea.

“I’m so close” she mumbles, and you feel her pussy clenching around your fingers, making it hard for you to move.

Wanda switches positions when she moves, making you go deeper and you know you’re hitting the right spot when she cries, holding on to the duvet and crying out as she comes around your fingers and your mouth.

You keep her in place, enjoying the feeling of her cunt pulsing around your fingers. Waiting until she relaxes, you pull out, smiling as she complains.

You climb back up, laying next to her. Wanda’s eyes are closed, her breathing erratic as she comes down from her high. Once she opens her eyes, you smile.

“Hey, gorgeous”

“That was…”

“Mhm” you nod, kissing her so she can taste herself. “Told you, just let me take care of you”

“Give me a second and I can… we can do it again. You haven’t come…”

“I’m fine” you shake your head. “That was extremely hot and your pleasure is mine. Just take your time”

“I love you” she says, kissing you once again, her mind still foggy from the orgasm.

“I love you too” you smile against her lips, eager to worship every inch of her body and show her how much more she can feel.

—

Light seeps through curtains and you open your eyes, looking around. Wanda’s scent is in the sheets, the pillows and the air around you.

Sadly, she’s missing from the bed and you stretch, ready to look for her and talk her into coming back.

Your button up shirt is nowhere to be found, so you take the tank top that was discared the night before and go down the stairs.

The sight that greets you is heavenly.

Wanda is humming along a Sinatra song, pouring some pancake mix in a pan. What makes it so special is how she’s wearing your shirt, that is obviously too big on her.

You’re not sure if she’s wearing panties underneath that, but you’re eager to find out.

“You scared me” she laughs when she feels you against her back.

“And you weren’t in bed when I woke up” you say, kissing her neck.

“I wanted to surprise you with breakfast”

“I am hungry” you mutter against her skin, moving her hair aside to get better access.

“Oh” she says, leaning against you. You make her walk back all the way to the kitchen counter, switching your bodies so she’s in front of you.

As you kiss her lips, your hand goes down her body, checking that she is in fact wearing underwear.

“Mmm, you’re overdressed” you say, pulling them down.

“What are you doing?” Wanda stutters, feeling your fingers teasing softly against her entrance.

“Want me to stop?”

“No. I just don’t want the pancakes to burn” she moans and stutters as you gather some of her slick in your digits.

“I better hurry, then” you say, kneeling before her.

Not wasting any time, you start eating her out like it’s your last meal, tongue flattening against her pussy. Wanda pulls your hair, riding your face and reaching back to hold herself steady against the counter.

“You’re just so fucking delicious” you say, desperate to feel more, placing one of her legs over your shoulder to get better access.  As you dive in again, Wanda holds on to your shoulders and pulls your hair, too lost in her pleasure. Your tongue moves in circles around her clit, and you let her ride your face as her orgasm approaches, until Wanda is moaning and panting, finishing with a whine.

“So good for me” you say, standing up and holding her in your arms as she leans against you, her legs unsteady after coming so hard. “All good, baby?”

“More than good” she says, her head lifting to look into your eyes, and you share a lazy kiss, Wanda moaning as she tastes herself. “I love you”

“Love you too” you say, kissing her nose.

“Still hungry?”

“I could definitely have some of those delicious pancakes”

“Coming right up” she says, walking back to the stove. You look at the sway of her hips and spank her, unable to help yourself.

“Amazing” you sigh after the first bite.

“Did you sleep ok?”

“Yeah, I can sleep anywhere and nothing will wake me up, except the sound of my pager. It’s like a Pavlovian response”

“Glad to hear that” she smiles, and you decide to tease her a little bit.

“Yeah, I guess it’s a good thing because you snore”

“I do not”

“Babe, you do” you laugh, and Wanda glares at you. “It’s ok, I think it’s adorable”

She rolls her eyes, and changes the subject. After breakfast, you both go to pick up the twins, and they’re telling you everything they did.

“I hope you didn’t stay up too late” Wanda says.

“We didn’t. But Adam was so loud, he snores. Like you do, Mama” Billy says and you have to hold back your laughter.

“See? I told you you snore” you say when she pinches your arm.

“How do you know my mom snores?” Tommy says, and you blush, the smug gring leaving your face.

“Yeah, Y/N, how do you know?” Wanda says, giggling when you look back at the twins, eager to change the subject.

“We should go to the movies today!”

“Yeah” they agree.

“Well played” Wanda nods, finally getting back home. “Hey, get your bags” she says as the kids try to sneak back home. “That’s more like it”

Billy plops dow on the couch while Tommy greets every piece of furniture. Wanda leans against the doorframe, enjoying the bit and you join her, kissing her temple.

“It’s nice to be home” he says, laying next to his brother.

“Yeah. It is” you agree, looking at Wanda with complete adoration.

You’re both home.

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 6

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts

Johnny and Simon argue.

CW: mentions of dub con/non con; domestic abuse; ableist slurs

-

Just when you settle in at your job he starts showing up at the diner to terrorize you, like an illness you cannot shake or a cloud you cannot outrun. Maybe he knows that that’s where you’re hiding your phone.

Maybe he knows that you have almost two thousand dollars stashed in your locker in the break room.

Either way, there is no rhyme or reason to his visits. He sets a pattern (once a week) and then breaks it, coming two days in a row, and then doesn’t visit for a whole month, until you are constantly off balance, always dreading the sound of the bell over the door.

Today when he comes, he seats himself at the bar where you are required to talk to him. He watches you work, delighting in the way your hands shake while you pour his coffee. You’ve never met someone who feeds off of fear like this, who gorges themselves on your flinches and trembling.

You think about shattering the coffee pot and taking one of the shards to his throat. You long to slit open his bloated belly and steal back all the feeling he has stolen from you. But you are useless, neutered by the fear that still remains, the fear yet to be eaten. One day…

“This one’s new,” he says, nodding to the new girl: young, with hair in a glossy, gleaming braid over her shoulder.

You tell him her name. How long she’s been working there now. That she’s nice. He hums, filing all the knowledge away in his head and dubbing it all useless by remarking, “Pretty.”

Your hand clenches into a tight fist around the rag you are using to wash down the bar. You don’t know why that bothers you. He hasn’t called you pretty since the early days when he was still trying to win you out from under your family’s thumb—like you wouldn’t have gone anywhere with anyone to be free of them, at the time (You’d had no idea that there were worse creatures out there than the ones who raised you). Maybe there’s some sick part of you that still wants to be wanted by him, that still wants to be pretty.

“Where’s Jackie?” he asks. Then, just to make your head spin: “You’ve been texting her more lately.”

Your skin flushes hot and then cold. You want to ask how he knows that, how he knows at all about the contact in your phone you named JACKIE when you keep your phone in your storage locker at work at all times, charging it in the breakroom, never to bring it home.

You hadn’t been stupid enough to save Simon’s number under his own name. No, God might not have given you enough sense to fill a teacup, but He gave you enough to fill a thimble. You just had to hope that would be enough. You had to hope that you could pull Jackie aside the next time you were both working together and that she would be willing to cover for you, should your boyfriend ask her about your ‘texts’. You hated bringing anyone else into the network of your own lies, but wrote it off as a necessary pain.

“It’s her day off,” you tell him.

He hums, doubtful.

The bell over the door rings.

Johnny looks thin and tired, arm crutch in place as Simon holds the door open for him. He’s dressed for the warm weather in a t-shirt and shorts which show the surgical scars at his knee, vivid purple lines in the fluorescent lights of the diner.

Simon spots you first, and a peculiar look comes over his face, one that you hope your boyfriend doesn’t see because you would have no way to explain it. You wouldn’t call it fondness, but it’s one of recognition certainly, a deeper understanding than you can just pass off as having run into each other a few times in the building.

Johnny sees you next and his face brightens. The strangest thought comes to you: I have made a friend. Then his eyes naturally flicker to your boyfriend, and his entire demeanor transforms—into one of such strange, dark, poignant delight, as if he and your boyfriend are old pals who have run into each other after years apart.

It makes your stomach turn over, and you don’t know why.

You’ve been silent too long. Your boyfriend has noticed, his head turning to take in the new patrons. He asks, voice mild and amused: “You know them?”

“They’re our neighbors. 5C.”

He sits up straighter. “No shit? That’s the cripple you almost killed?”

“He’s not a cripple,” you mutter.

“Sure looks like one from here.” Your boyfriend gives a little salute in greeting.

Johnny makes a beeline for the bar, crutch thudding rhythmically against the tiled floor with every purposeful step. He sits in the seat beside your boyfriend, removing his arm crutch and shifting it to rest on his other side against the edge of the bar. Simon reaches out and adjusts it to keep it from sliding over.

Simon slips into the seat beside him, quiet and solemn, looking like a man braced for bad news.

“Hey there, neighbor. Sorry about all that mess in the parking lot the other day,” your boyfriend says. He jerks a thumb toward you. “She never should have been behind the wheel if we’re being honest.”

“Then why the hell was she?” Johnny wonders, accent thicker than usual, rough. His tone is mild, but the grin pinned on his face is like a wolf’s: hungry for blood. Dangerous. It is so at odds with his happy demeanor that it makes goosebumps rise on your arms. For the first time since you’ve met him, Johnny frightens you.

Your boyfriend is no idiot. He senses the thinly veiled malevolence beneath Johnny’s words but doesn’t understand it (and neither do you). Maybe Johnny really is still upset about almost getting squished like a bug beneath your car, but in that case, his anger at your boyfriend is misplaced. You turn away, grabbing two empty mugs, shoulders tensing. Waiting for all that anger to find somewhere to go.

Your boyfriend shifts on his seat, sighing through his nose a little. He doesn’t like to admit this. “I had some trouble a while back. Got my license revoked.”

Johnny coos, condescending and mean: “Bad luck.”

“Johnny,” Simon says, voice flat with a warning. You place the mugs down in front of him and Johnny, your hands shaking. Reaching for the coffee pot, you fill both their cups to the hallway mark, leaving room for sugar and cream. Some sloshes over the edge of Johnny’s cup.

“Stupid. Stupid,” you mutter, reaching for your rag to wipe it away. The three of them pay you no mind.

“We should have you over. I get a couple of close friends together on Saturdays and we play poker. You’re welcome to join us,” your boyfriend says, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

You blanch, rag dropping uselessly to the counter from your lax hand. The idea of Johnny and Simon being in your personal space, in the place where Bad Things Happen is a nightmare. Though you know they wouldn’t, (good people. They are good people), the thought of them taking place in Saturday poker rituals makes you feel sick. Fresh in your mind is your dream from the other night when you had ridden Simon until your boyfriend passed you on to someone new, and the thought of it becoming a reality is—it’s too much.

You leave your body.

“What do you think, baby?” he asks you, smiling. “Would you like to have them over? Would that be fun?”

“Yes,” your mouth answers numbly, because it has to.

“Then it’s settled. First deal is at noon and we play through the evening.”

“We’ll fucking be there,” Johnny says, words sounding adjacent to a threat.

Your boyfriend doesn’t stay long after that. Perhaps a part of him feels threatened by the presence of Simon, or perhaps he’s grown bored with tormenting you, but eventually he places money (your money. It’s your money. It’s your fucking money—) on the bar top and leaves, the bell ringing at his exit.

Johnny turns his blue eyes onto you. The wolf-like quality that had frightened you so much has fled, receded back into the man, no longer needed. But you know it is there. It’s in every man.

His voice is remarkably gentle when he asks you: “Lass, are you alright?”

“Yes,” your mouth says.

“You’re crying,” says Simon simply, reaching for a napkin to hand you. Your hand reaches for it numbly and uses it to pat at your face.

“It’s just something in my eye.” Your hands stuff the napkin in your apron and pull out your pad and pen, hand poised to write, eyes empty and unseeing. “What can I get for you?”

-

“He’s beatin’ her,'' Johnny says mildly. He waits until they are inside Simon’s car, stuck in traffic on the way back to the apartment. The heat is stifling, the AC not yet working after the time the car spent baking in the sunlight of the diner’s parking lot.

Simon reaches out and adjusts the knobs, turning them more toward himself. Johnny doesn’t like the cold much anymore, making Simon dread the thought of winter coming to the city, of snow. He can’t imagine what it will be like to be Johnny then, surrounded by ice all over again. Clearing his throat, he says: “I know.”

Johnny’s head snaps over to look at Simon, and the expression on his face is one akin to absolute betrayal. It’s the deepest of hurts, like Simon has reached out across the center console and slapped him. Johnny’s never given him that look in his entire life, and Simon could have gone the rest of his life without seeing it.

“You know. You know. And just what have you done to help her?”

“Help her?” Simon asks, bracing one elbow against the driver’s side door and massaging at his temples where a headache has been growing for the last two days. “How the hell do you want me to do that?”

“I can think of a few ways,” Johnny says darkly. “A few accidents that could happen to that cunt next door—”

“No,” Simon snaps. “Don’t even think about it, Johnny. Not only are you in no condition, but it’s fucking illegal.”

“So was half the shite we did in the name of Queen and Country,” Johnny hisses.

“We were following orders,” Simon says, hackles rising. “There’s a difference.”

“The difference is that now you’d have to use your own mind instead of letting someone else do the thinking fer you,” Johnny says, anger making him cruel.

Simon grits his teeth together. The car inches forward in traffic, and it takes all of his self control not to slam on the gas and rear end the car in front of him just to end this fucking conversation with Johnny.

He takes a deep breath through his nose, aiming for calm. He tries more sense, even if it feels like pushing a boulder uphill: “We have no resources to help her, and no idea that she even wants help.”

“Of course she wants help!” Johnny cries. “Why the fuck wouldn’t she?”

“Lots of reasons,” Simon says, thinking of his mother. What had been her reason for staying with his father for so long, for always being willing to open the door to him when he came knocking? Children. Money. Her religion. “You’re thinking of it in black and white but it isn’t. Nothing is.”

“Some things are. Some things are just wrong.” And then, voice laden with disappointment: “Yer a coward, Simon Riley.”

Simon feels these words in his chest, like Johnny has shaped them into a knife and jammed them between his ribs. Simon stares at the license plate in front of them until the numbers and letters blur together, until his eyes burn. His jaw aches from biting back so many hurtful things that he knows he could say, that he wants to say, just to hurt Johnny the way Johnny has hurt him.

But that’s just the imprint of his father on him, like a smudged thumbprint on the glass of his DNA. He’s a better man than that.

He knows it, even if Johnny doesn’t anymore.

[spinninhavs]

ꨄ ⌒ ⋆｡ ˚ BABY ⟢

│⊹ warnings ⋆ ;; SMUT, p in v, pet names (slut, baby, angel, and whore), degrading, praise if u squint, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it!), hair pulling, spanking, face down ass up, oral (f!receiving) lowercase intended, established relationship, mentions of aftercare

│⊹ pairing ⋆ ;; dom!matt sturniolo x fem!reader

│⊹ haven’s notes ⋆ ;; bare w me if its a little bad, working on this for a while nd im currently fighting sleep to finish this

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

i look too good to be in this bedroom

without someone to touch me like you do

you pout, watching the time on the digital clock slowly go by as you wait for matt to finish filming a car video before heading to your apartment. you were surprised that it was taking him so long. you roll back over on your back and pick up your phone from the other side of the bed. no texts or anything from him. you sigh out of annoyance while sitting up to send him a text. “matt, where are you??” sent. you wait a few more minutes and he just read the message. your curiosity gets to the best of you and your mind decides to send him a picture of you from your laptop photobooth. you set it all up and then take a few photos of yourself with your tits just barely slipping out of the skimpy tank top you were wearing. you smirk lightly before sending the pictures, them being followed with a little; “how much longer i gotta wait for this?”

matt saw the photos and message and replied with a simple, “i’ll be there in 5 minutes.” you giggled softly, happy with the response. you sit in bed impatiently while you waited though, you were waiting the whole day to see him since he had to go to meetings and run errands. and now filming a video was the cherry on top of your impatientness. matt, of course, lied about how many minutes he was gonna take. 10 minutes went by since he said 5 minutes. before you knew it, he swung your bedroom door open. “baby h—“ your giggle was cut off. “are you crazy? sending me photos with your tits almost out when i was filming with chris and nick?” he said firmly while grabbing your laptop, shutting it before putting it on your desk. “‘m sorry! i just miss—“ again, you were cut off. “don’t wanna hear it.” he said while roughly starting to leave wet kisses on your neck. you giggle a little bit but that turns into a small moan. “such a slut.” he says under his breath. the brunette boy trailed kisses down to your pelvis, stopping at the waistband of your panties. he runs the tip of his tongue along the top of them.

his gaze remains on your eyes as he slowly peels your panties off. your hips buck up slightly to his face but he pins them down against the bed. “matt” you whine while he ran his tongue through your glistening folds. “shh.” he whispers gently before he finally attached his mouth to your clit. you let out a broken moan as he slowly starts to flick his tongue inside of your wet cunt. his nose nudged your bundle of nerves just right, and he was doing this all while looking at you through hooded eyes. out of pleasure, you threw your head back which caused him to stop. “w-what?” you whine dumbly. “keep your eyes on mine, or i’ll stop, got it angel?” he notes while hooking your shoulders over his shoulders. you nod eagerly and he goes back to let his tongue taste you. your fingers intertwine with his loose curls and you tug on them lightly. he groans into your pussy and that just sends another wave of pleasure over you. honestly you were struggling to keep your head up. the last thing you expected was for him to start thrusting his slender fingers inside of you, pressing up against your g-spot. matt sucked on your clit harshly as his digits continued to get sucked in by your cunt. your jaw goes slack as the knot in your stomach started to tighten. he says your the most sweet. “f-fuck! ‘m gonna cum!” you moan out, your back barely arching off of the bed. matt slowly pulled away, making you groan frustratedly. “don’t wanna cum you just yet.” he whispered while gripping your hips and flipping you over.

you’re now keeping yourself up with your knees and hands. you hear matt unbuckle his belt from behind, and you cant help but peek. he started to slowly palm himself while looking at you with a little smirk. “maaattt.” you whine as he leans over you. with one hand, he pulled down his calvien klien boxers and let his tip run through your cunt. “what is it baby?” he hummed quietly. “please.” “please what?” you blush out of embarrassment. you didn’t exactly wanna tell matt what you wanted. his hand lifted up and landed on your ass, a loud slap was heard. you moan in reply. “say it.” he said firmly while he let the head of his cock slip in and out of you slowly. “please fuck me.” you whisper, loud enough for him to hear. he gives your ass another slap. “i know you can say it louder.” he stated. “pl-please fuck me matt.” the words came out of your mouth stuttered but firm. “atta girl.” matt whispers before letting your pussy suction his cock in. you let out a broken moan, expected for his thrusts to be slow and steady at first, but no, they were a bit more rapid and firm. his hips snap against the plush of your ass as his grip around your hips are tight. “yeah this what you wanted, isn’t that right ya’ little slut?” he chuckled dryly while restlessly plunging inside of you.

you squeeze your gummy walls around his cock which was digged deep in them. “mmh! f-feels so good!” you mewl loudly. matt grabbed the back of your neck not firm enough to hurt you and shoved your face in one of your many pillows. “let’s keep that pretty mouth shut.” he grunted in between thrusts. the sound of your guys’ skin slapping against each other filled the room. your moans were muffled but they still sounded loud, despite the pillow being pressed against your face. matt snaked his arm down and slowly started to toy with your bundle of nerves. his hand leaves the back of your neck then rested on your ass before giving it another slap.

you squirmed your hips beneath him nd you clamped around him tightly, earning a little groan from him. “why you running from me baby?” she taunted with a little playful pout while his hands went up to your hips nd held them tightly. you were attempting to say something but your face was still snug in his pillows. “what was that?” matt mumbled, his hips snapping against your ass more rapidly. after another muffled babble he grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail nd pulled your head up. “wanna hear what ‘m working on.” he whispered into your ear roughly. “ahh! ‘m so so close matt” you cried out of pleasure, your back arching to the point your stomach lightly grazed the bed. this angle just made him hit that sticky patch inside of you that made you crumble. “is that so angel?” he hummed as your velvety walls fit snug around his cock like a glove. “yes! fuck—“ you pant out, your jaw going slack nd your eyes closing shut.

he let go of your mane of hair nd let that hand go down onto the small of your back. “gonna be a good girl nd cum f’me?” he groaned as he could even feel himself getting close. you just barely nod your head. his hand raising in the air nd landing on your ass with a slap. “yes! yes please” you choke out, needing to release immediately. a cocky smile spread on matt’s face nd both of his hands went back to your hips. you felt his tip kiss your sweet spot which just sent you over the edge. “cum for me baby.” he grunted, you immediately doing so to his words. he didn’t take long to finish after you did. his hips slowed down as he fucked you both through each other’s high. you wince softly from the sensitivity as he slowly pulled out of you. “are you okay there?” he whispered gently, helping you sit up. you nod weakly with a little smile. the brunette boy smiles as well nd pecks your forehead with a small kiss. he guided you to the bathroom where he then cleaned you up. “i didn’t go too rough, did i?” his eyebrows furrowing a little bit with worry. you shake your head quickly. “call me crazy but i like it when your rough like that” you giggle, watching him in awe as he wiped your thighs clean. he laughed quietly, nodding slightly. “i’ll remember that” he says with a smile before giving you a little kiss on your lips.

│⊹ taglist ⋆ ;; @deftonesmatt @mattsluttywaist @luverboychris @mxqdii @sweetstars-posts @xoxo4chrisss @mattscoquette @conspiracy-ash @submattenthusiast @bambi-slxt @strnzzvsp

[simpingsavant]

Late Night

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader

Summary: You are the person always working when Spencer stops by to get his fix of Mountain Dew Kickstart.

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, slow-burn. A gross man flirts w you for plot purposes. Promise it's very non-major but just in case.

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: First time posting for smosh, but not the first time posting fanfic. I made a whole side blog for this lol I'm thinking I want to post more so feel free to send me smosh requests and give lots of love so I stay motivated to write more hehe <3

Working the graveyard shift at a 24-hour convenience store is generally not a good idea. Except this one is in a nice area of LA, you’re almost always working with someone, and it’s slow enough that you can get your grad school work done.

Four months ago, when you were first looking at the help wanted sign in the window, you decided you would give it a week to see if it was actually worth it. Now, you were contently typing away on your computer as a group of middle-aged people grabbed alcohol and snacks. They were fancily dressed but the expressions on their faces were reminiscent of college students who were partying through the night like they owned it. When they came up with a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and enough snacks to last them weeks, you happily scanned the items.

The silver fox dressed in a deep, blue suit dropped a twenty in the tip jar.

“Thank you,” You said, handing him a receipt as his cohorts grabbed the food.

The bell jingled as they left. Your coworker was in the back taking inventory. You looked down at your laptop, rereading the last couple of sentences as you found your place in the research essay you’d been taking notes from.

You loved your job. You worked from 11 pm to 8 am and although it took you time to adjust to a new sleep schedule, it was worth it. You were paid slightly more since you were working such an atrocious shift and you never interacted with your boss. Occasionally, he would message you that he was coming in early to talk, but he often just texted about what he wanted you to get done.

Until 1 am, you were working with Michael, a young man who was in his senior year of college. At 4 am, Marie would come in, an older Latina woman who had been working this shift for over ten years now. She’d relieve you for your break and you’d come back just in time for the morning rush.

You liked the morning rush. Although you couldn’t get much homework done at the time, it was when you had your most regulars. You would see moms buying their children lunch before school, office workers buying cheap coffee, and students buying energy drinks.

Marie would man the register, and you would come to help if needed. During rests, you would be restocking shelves or cleaning.

From 1 am to 4 am, you would usually see only a few faces. You would see students who stay up extremely late or workers having to go in much too early. Since it was a nice neighborhood, they were all pleasant people and you never worried about your own safety or well-being. 

Only one regular came in consistently during these hours. He looked to be about your age with chocolate hair that curled at the nape of his neck. He came in just after 1 am and always sported dark eye circles. He purchased anywhere from 4 to 8 cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and occasionally a bag of chips. 

Sometimes, you’d see him in the morning again before you were off. He’d buy a cheap coffee and some fruit.

For the first month, you were too concerned with doing your job well to start any conversations besides pleasantries. He was, however, the first customer you recognized as a regular. You couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would need so many energy drinks. In particular, why in God's name did he love Mountain Dew Kickstart?

Maybe you were so intrigued because he caught your eye from day one. He was dressed in combat boots and a worn jacket. You soon learned those two items were part of his daily attire. You liked the way his hair looked or the way his downturned eyes crinkled as he smiled.

In your second month of working there, you spent way too much time trying to think of a way to start a conversation.

So far, you only got:

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How’s your night going?”

“Good, and you?”

“Fine. Do you want a bag?”

“No, I have my backpack.”

“Okay. Your total is $12.53, go ahead and swipe, insert, or tap your card. Would you like your receipt?”

Sometimes he said yes, sometimes he said no. A few times, your hands would brush. He was always so warm, your cold hands lingering as he bashfully smiled and looked away.

“Have a good one.”

“You too.”

His hair was getting longer and you thought it suited him well. You wanted nothing more than a reason to hold a genuine conversation with him.

During your third month, that reason finally came.

He walked in, luscious locks replaced with a buzz cut and you couldn’t help but go “Oh wow.”

“Is it that bad?” He joked, rubbing the top of his head.

“No, no,” You immediately said, hands moving rapidly. “It just surprised me.” A beat of silence followed before you added, “You pull it off.” He really did, but you also took that as a sign you liked him a little too much. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Thanks, it was for work,” He adds, voice monotone despite the little grin he sported at your compliment. He walks farther into the store, toward the opposite wall with the display of drinks.

“For work? Are you joining the army?” You question, stumbling over your words slightly as you realize that it’s finally happening—you are finally holding a conversation with him.

“No,” He laughs. “I work for this online entertainment company.” He fills his arms with five cans. “It was for a special.”

“Oh,” You reply, rolling on the balls of your feet as you try to think of ways to keep the conversation going. “Are you an actor?”

“More behind the scenes,” He replies, coming up to the counter and placing his drinks down. He grabs a bag of chips from the front display.

“That’s cool,” You say, picking up the first can as you begin scanning.

He shrugs, “I’m sure half the city does stuff online.”

“I doubt that,” You scoff. “Maybe half does entertainment, but definitely not exclusively online content.” Feeling a little bad for shutting him down, you look up at him for a moment, expecting to see disappointment or annoyance.

Instead, he’s smiling. It’s not a large smile, but it quells your anxiety.

“You’re probably right,” He answers, fishing out his card.

“I usually am,” You joke, giving him a quick look before clicking away on your screen. “Your total is $10.54.”

He lets out a short laugh that makes your insides flip with satisfaction. “I’m Spencer by the way,” He offers, putting away his card after the reader beeps.

“Y/N,” You say, tapping your name tag. “Do you want your receipt, Spencer?”

“Sure, Y/N,” He answers, putting his drinks into his backpack.

You rip it from the printer and hold it out. The way he said your name makes you shiver. He takes the receipt and bids you farewell.

You see him in the morning and you’re eighty percent sure he times it to check out with you instead of Marie. Today he opted for an iced coffee with lots of cream and a plastic container of chopped mango.

“Good morning, Spencer. How’d you sleep?”

“Good, but not long enough. What about you?”

You see a flash of realization on his face as soon as he says it, but you’re speaking before he can correct himself.

“Haven’t slept yet, but I get off in ten minutes and will be able to sleep till five today so that’s nice.”

“What’s at five?”

“Class. They’re in the evening since so many grad students work day jobs.” You tap away on the screen. “Would you like your receipt?”

“Nah, just toss it.” He picks up the drink and fruit. “See ya later, Y/N.”

“See you,” You reply, crumpling the receipt and throwing it in the small trash bin under your register before waving to the next customer.

~~

Since then, Spencer has come in every night without fail and sparked a conversation with you. You learn that the company he works for is called Smosh and you think the name is vaguely familiar. He asks you what you’re studying and why you’re always on your laptop.

The next month and a half goes by quickly. You come to expect him, anticipating his nightly visits. He has recently started staying longer, leaning over the counter and smiling at you as he talks about something that happened the other day. If another person comes in, he usually takes that as his sign to leave, wishing you well and exiting before the new customer is ready to check out.

You’re unfortunately not getting as much homework done because of this, but you don’t mind one bit. You either work during your break or just take some time before class to do more. You wonder if he’s not getting as much sleep because of this, worried you’re burdening him. Despite this, you know that you’ll selfishly never be able to turn him away. Even if it is for his own benefit.

Once, he came in before Michael had left. Your conversation was curt and he left right after you gave him the receipt. Michael stared you down the whole time and Spencer was clearly thrown off by another person being there.

“Who was that?” Your coworker asked, moving toward you from his spot behind the hot food.

“Just a regular,” You answer, trying to keep your cool. You pull out a cloth and begin wiping down the counter, wanting to occupy your hands. “He usually comes later.”

“Ah,” Michael says, nodding slowly and giving you a look. “That’s it?”

“Yeah?”

“Interesting.”

The comment piques your interest and you can’t help but ask, “How so?”

Michael smirks at you, “Why do you care?”

“Bro, shut up,” You hiss, pushing him out of your face and walking over to your stash of food. Your face felt hot as you walked past, and you attempted to hide it in the collar of your shirt. It was never fun to be caught with a crush, but you wanted to know Michael’s thoughts. So far, you and Spencer always talked in privacy, with no onlookers to comment on if your feelings seemed mutual.

“Fine, fine,” He relents, holding his hands up. “It’s just that I saw him through the window before he came in and he was smiling way too big for someone coming in the pick up energy drinks.”

“You’d be surprised. He gets those every night,” You defensively argue, “He probably has a shrine at home.”

“Oh, come on,” Michael says, rolling his eyes as you pop a chip into your mouth. “That smile dropped as soon as he saw me. I bet he wishes it was just you.”

“Don’t say that stuff.”

“Why not? Don’t you like him? You definitely lit up when you saw him.”

You gawk at your coworker, absolutely astonished at how easy it was for him to notice. This was the first time anyone witnessed the two of you interact and now you were questioning every interaction. Did he like you? Or did he just like that you gave him a confidence boost because your infatuation was so obvious?

“W-what’s your major again? Investigation?” You accuse, stuttering out of pure frustration.

“Yes, actually—”

You roll your eyes, but the sound of the door brings your back to attention. You steel your expression but are grateful the conversation ended. It was a wake-up call for you and you spent the rest of your shift trying to understand your feelings more.

Could it still be called a crush? You felt like you knew so much and yet so little about him. When did you cross the line from strangers to acquaintances? How do you go from acquaintances to friends? Did you even want to be friends?

After that, Spencer always came in after Michael left, his disposition more friendly when it was just the two of you. You didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign, but it was hard to think about when only a counter separated the two of you and he was radiating warmth and cracking jokes.

~~

“Okay,” You hear Michael say and all of a sudden you are back to reality, no farther in your reading than you were 10 minutes ago.

The door to the back shuts and you look at your coworker with wide eyes.

“I finally finished with inventory.”

He looks down at his phone, prompting you to look at the time showing on your laptop.

12:56

“Sweet,” He says, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Need anything from me before I go?” 

“No,” You answer. “Enjoy your night.”

“Thanks, I’m gonna go grab my stuff before I clock out.”

“For sure. See you tomorrow.”

“Later,” Michael says.

He opens the door to the back and you turn to your computer. The break room was through those doors as was the back entrance which almost all employees used when coming and going.

You focused on your computer, reading the most important parts of the study and taking down notes. In the back of your mind, you knew Spencer would be arriving soon. It makes you nervous, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you await his arrival.

You have been thinking lately about how to advance your relationship. Maybe get more personal with the information or invite him to hang out outside of your job. The idea makes you queasy because you worry about ruining everything by trying to get more.

You finished the reading and moved on to another class assignment. Spencer came in soon after, his lips quirked up and no jacket on. The weather was getting warmer and it was rather dry. You could absolutely walk around with only a T-shirt and jeans on despite the time.

This, however, drew your eyes to his arms immediately. They weren’t as hairy as you were expecting, his beard and how quickly his hair grew back making you think they would be. He wasn’t very muscley in any way, but your eyes shamelessly lingered on his biceps longer than you wanted.

His skin was littered with freckles and tattoos, black ink that started at his forearm and rose past his t-shirt. You could spend hours looking at them, a couple of them immediately garnering your interest.

“Hey,” You greeted, your eyes snapping up to his face. You were pretty sure he caught you, but he thankfully said nothing. Maybe he was used to his tattoos being looked at, an easy cover considering you weren’t just looking at his tattoos.

“Hey, how’s your night?” He makes his way across the store with ease, eyes staying on you.

“Fine, it’s extra slow tonight.”

“That’s nice,” He’s speaking loud enough that you can hear him from far away. “Are you getting a lot of homework done?”

“Yeah,” You replied. “Finals are coming up and I’m working on all the trivial homework now so I can study and work on the final essays in the library.”

“Is this your final year?”

“Sort of. I’ll be getting my masters after this, but I’m on an automated track for my PhD.”

There’s silence as he grabs a final can and walks up to the front. It’s almost awkward, but you aren’t sure why. It seems like he wants to ask you something, but is struggling to say it.

You start scanning his items, letting him think instead of trying to fill the space with meaningless talk.

“Are you still working here over the summer?”

“I am,” You light up, realizing why he was nervous. It sent a spark through your body to think about him missing you.

God, you wanted him so bad.

“I’m also doing some research work for a professor though,” You add. “I’m honestly too busy to have a job and it will only get worse in the upcoming year, but I need the money and this is the best option for pay and the ability to do homework.”

“Damn,” Spencer sighs. “I’m sorry about that.”

His voice is soft and sincere. It throws you off for a moment, not used to this kind of sympathy. Your social circle consists of Michael, Marie, and other students who were also going through their own shit.

“Oh, it's nothing,” You shyly reply, eyes falling to the counter and lips forming a tight line as your mind races.

“No, seriously,” Spencer insists. “It must be so difficult and yet you never seem like you’re struggling.”

With a large breath, you finally accept his compliment. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you.” You look up to see that his gaze is already on you and you hold eye contact for an absurd amount of time. You’re sure any onlookers would consider the scene intense.

The pressure of the moment builds, compressing your lungs.

“Um, anyways, your total is $9.54,” You say, breaking the silence and eye contact.

“Oh, right.”

Spencer shoves his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet and you once again admire his arms as he’s busy.

“How was work today?” You ask, wanting to dissipate the intensity of the moment.

“Long.” He answers. “This week is a filming week so I’ve been busy as hell working behind the camera and being in a few videos too. Tomorrow is Friday though and I don’t have to be in till 11 am.”

You hum in acknowledgment, “That sucks.” 

Long ago, when curiosity finally got to you, you looked up Smosh. You realized quickly that the name was familiar because it was quite popular back in OG YouTube. You spent an hour exploring their channels before growing bored and looking up videos with Spencer specifically. It was weird and you could only watch in short increments of time before needing a break. You felt like you were violating his privacy, but struggled to stop when you realized just how funny he was, his humor translating perfectly on camera. He held your attention in so many videos, quick quips making you burst out laughing.

You also note the differences in how he talks to you and how he talks to the camera. Although quiet, he cracks jokes almost every time he speaks. His coworkers seem like friends and you’re sure that helps to comfort any nerves he would have on screen. However, they were obviously trained on-camera talent whereas he simply fell into it because of how much the audience liked him. Around you, he made jokes, but he also seemed to shed the demeanor he developed for videos. Not every sentence was about entertaining.

They were real. Real discussions with real problems no matter how mundane.

“Yeah, but at least we are getting it done. Next week is all at my computer or in meetings,” He adds, tucking away his card and putting his drinks into his backpack. “Anyways, so, when is your finals week?”

“In two weeks technically, but I have a couple of major things going on next week,” You answer, taking a seat on the stool next to you.

“Like what?” Spencer inquires, a light in his eyes that sends a shiver up your spine.

“Well, I’m taking four classes. Two of them have an exam and a final essay. One has a final essay and matching presentation, and then last is a group assignment that also has a presentation and essay.”

“Oh no, not a group assignment,” Spencer interjects, empathy on the tip of his tongue.

“I know,” You agree, nerves falling away as you ease into familiar territory. “People in masters programs are not as bad but they can still be pretty clueless and unhelpful.” You shake your head in frustration, “Like this one guy in my group, he thinks he is so edgy and smart. He takes no criticism but also doesn’t put in enough work. He’s basically made me his personal target and I literally have a group chat with two other members just to rant when he says the stupidest shit.”

“Damn, sounds like an ass.”

“He is,” You groan, closing your eyes. “But we are almost done. We have the essay due next week and then presentations during the finals period.” You grin in relief, “After that, I have two weeks of break before starting my internship with the professor.”

“Are you getting paid for that?” Spencer asks.

The conversation was flowing easily, his interest in your life more evident than ever. It isn’t lost on you that he’s exhibiting every sign of attentive listening and it makes your insides twist. He’s leaning forward, fingers tapping away on the counter as he nods periodically.

“Only in experience,” You sigh. “Money would be great, but I’d rather learn from this and not get paid than not do it at all. I only have to dedicate 12 hours a week to it anyway and that’s not much considering my usual schedule is jam-packed.”

“What’s the study about?” He asks, holding your gaze more often than usual. You find it hard to reciprocate, too nervous to engage in whatever he is doing. You aren’t sure if you could call it flirting because he definitely wasn’t complimenting you, but he was acting differently enough that it was noticeable.

Before you can answer, a customer walks in, the bell ringing in your ears as you look at the brunette in front of you. You expect him to leave like every time before, but he doesn’t move. Although thrown off slightly, you recover quickly and answer his question. When the customer is ready to check out, Spencer simply steps to the side but lingers near. As soon as the man leaves, Spencer is right back where he was and asking you another question that keeps you talking.

He leaves twenty minutes later, eyes half-lidded and tired. You don’t see him that morning, likely because he doesn’t have to go into the office as early as usual. Despite logic, you still miss him.

~~

When Spencer comes in that night, he’s later than usual. Not by much, it’s not even 2 am when he walks through the door. And yet, he’s apologetic.

“Hey, sorry,” He mumbles, coming right up to the counter.

Taken aback, your hands slip from your keyboard and you stand up straight. Fridays were always the busiest weekday and although you did wonder where Spencer was, you didn’t have much time to think about it.

“I was playing a game and totally lost track of time,” He continued, a touch more out of breath than usual. He runs a hand through his short, recently bleached hair.

“No worries,” You say, not quite sure why he’s apologizing. It’s not like you had a set time to hang out or do something together. “Need to come get a drink so you can keep going?” You ask, trying to dissipate the awkward feeling that was bubbling up. You didn’t want to let yourself assume more than was reality.

“No, no, I mean,” He stumbles, “I probably will go back to playing, I just—never mind.” He looks down, staring at the counter, specifically the display of scratchers in the built-in glass case.

God, this felt so weird. You shouldn’t have said that, maybe he actually wanted to see you but then you ruined it by making it about the drinks and not you.

“So, what game were you playing?” You ask, the air feeling stuffy.

After a relieved sigh, Spencer goes into the details. You listen intently because not only is he a good storyteller, but you also genuinely care about his interests.

As he rants about some game mechanic, your mind begins to wander. More precisely, you wonder if your affection for him is obvious. Even from the short interaction you had in front of Michael, he could tell there was something more going on. To a stranger would it be obvious? To your friends would it be obvious? Would they say you two would make a cute couple? Or would they not see the chemistry?

“Oh, that’s frustrating,” You say, picking up on the pause in his monologue.

“Eh,” He shrugs, “It’s life.” He leans over the counter, shoulders more relaxed than when he first entered. “I needed a break anyway. So, how’s your night been?”

“Well,” You begin. “I felt rather lost without you.” Sarcasm is dripping off your tongue and Spencer immediately smiles. “My internal clock is all screwed up.”

“You poor thing,” He says, playing along.

“You, sir, need to take your responsibility more seriously,” You laugh, sitting back down in your chair and leaning over to grab your water. “More than half an hour late, I’m sure your body is screaming for a Mountain Dew.”

“Not just a Mountain Dew,” He protests, “A Mountain Dew Kickstart.”

You giggle, just about to add something before the bell rings and your eyes immediately shift to the front door. The patron, dressed in black jeans, a blue hoodie, and a leather jacket, comes up to you immediately. In the fifteen-foot walk between you and the door, you notice he is at least twenty years older than you, skin wrinkling and sagging with age. His clothes are worn, fraying at the seams. When he pushes forward, Spencer immediately slinks away, stepping over to look at the opposite wall of food. The stranger places his hands on the counter and you see dirt under his nails.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse.

“Two packs of the Marlboro Red,” He commands, his eyes dragging up and down your body. Just as you turn to grab the cigarettes, you can see a smirk forming on his lips.

You sigh, taking a moment to harden your exterior before turning around to scan the packs. These kinds of customers were uncommon for the area, but still came in enough for you to pick them out of a crowd immediately. Usually, they leave easily enough.

“Anything else?” You ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

“Two of those beef taquitos, hun,” He says, a dirty finger pressing against the warm glass.

You feel a wave of cold at the name but move aside to grab the hot food without any fuss. The sooner he leaves the better. When you hand them over to him, he purposefully moves his hand far enough forward that it touches yours. You are vaguely aware of Spencer in the background, but force your eyes off him.

You can deal with this on your own just fine.

The stranger's eyes linger on your hand and you snatch it away, typing on the tablet to add the taquitos to his total.

“Anything else?” You echo, voice more curt than before.

“Hmm,” He hums contemplatively, putting his finger to his chin like he’s performing. “I suppose I’ll take your number too.”

You fake a laugh, looking into his eyes for only a moment before going back to your screen. “Although I’m flattered, I don’t give my number to strangers.” A few more taps to the device, “Your total is $22.37.”

“Well,” He leans forward and reads off your name from the tag. It sounds sickly coming from his lips. “My name is Mark. Give me your number and then we won’t be strangers.” He pulls out his card to pay, shoving the cigarettes into his pockets.

You give him a forced smile, resting your hand on your heart while you try to let him down gently. “Nice to meet you, Mark, but still. I am not interested.”

“Why?” He questions, “You got a boyfriend?”

You debate telling him you’re in a relationship. Maybe it will get him to leave, maybe he’ll just suggest you cheat. It’s always difficult to tell.

“Dude,” You hear a voice speak up. “You’re holding up the line.”

Mark turns around to see Spencer a few feet behind. You have to crane your neck to see him, the brunette lining up down an aisle. He’s holding some random items, clearly having wandered around the store, paying attention but trying to look like he was merely shopping.

Just before Mark can say anything, Spencer is pushing forward and shouldering past. “Just take the L and move on,” He deadpans, his voice low and foreboding. He stares down the stranger, putting his items onto the counter without even looking away. He’s half a head shorter than the guy, but his presence alone makes up for that tenfold.

“Here’s your receipt,” You quietly interject, holding it out. Half of you was thankful for the interruption, but the other half of you was annoyed. Despite that, you choose to use this opportunity to end the conversation.

With a huff, Mark snatches the receipt from your hand.

“Whatever,” He mumbles to himself, “Bitch.”

The bell dings as he exits, leaving you and Spencer in a loud silence. You let out a shaky breath.

“Oh my god,” Spencer begins. His words draw your gaze away from the door and to him. You can see the concern on his face and the disgust in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You have a moment to say before he’s talking again.

“What an ass. Do you not have a panic button?”

“I do,” You answer, “But that’s for robberies.”

“Or this!” He protests, gesturing at the door where the man had exited. “You need to stay safe.”

“I was staying safe,” You defend.

“I can’t believe they have you alone at this time of night,” Spencer continues, seemingly not registering your words. “Like, anyone can just come in here!”

“Spencer,” You say, trying to grab his attention.

“You should never have to deal with that kind of–”

“Spencer,” You repeat, finally getting him to shut up.

“What?”

“It’s fine, I can deal with this on my own. You didn’t need to help,” You explain, wishing the moment would simply pass so you could move on.

“Just because you can deal with it on your own doesn’t mean you have to,” He argues, his voice softer than before.

His words leave you at a loss, unsure how to respond. He breaks the silence before you can.

“How often does this happen?”

“Not often,” You say, struggling to make any eye contact. “This is a nice area and usually they just give up after a couple of tries.”

Spencer sighs, running a hand through his hair with an exasperated expression. “Sorry,” He mumbles, the word being pulled from him. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” You can see the regret in his eyes. “I got so heated and I should have just made sure you were okay.”

“Oh,” You say, “Thanks.” His apology was unexpected but very appreciated. “I am fine.”

Spencer nods, the moment feeling slightly awkward as the resolution comes. “When does the next person get here?” He asks.

“Four,” You answer, taking a chance to grab your phone and check the time.

2:21

“Damn, that’s a long time.”

“It’s whatever,” You shrug. “It goes pretty quickly since I’m basically just talking to you and then doing homework.”

When the words register for him, there’s a glint in his eyes and a small smile forming on his face. “That’s good,” He replies. There’s a pause before he speaks again, “But damn, that’s like an hour and a half away.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, resting back on your stool.

“Can I stay?” He asks, surprising you. “For peace of mine, I mean. I’m just thinking about me leaving and that guy coming right back in. I don’t know, it’s dumb, but I just can’t imagine leaving you right now.”

“Sure,” You reply, interrupting his word vomit once you’ve regained your barrings.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” You shrug, a closed-lip grin forming. “I would love for you to keep me company.”

“Cool,” He says, a smile forming for him.

The moment is awkward and foreign. From an outside perspective, you probably both look like grinning idiots.

“Well,” Spencer begins, breaking the silence, “I’m definitely going to need an energy drink to stay awake.” He looks down at the pile of snacks he brought up. “You keep working, I’m gonna put these away and come back up with stuff I actually want to buy.”

“Roger that,” You reply, giving him a look before turning back to your computer. You don’t get much work done as you wait for him to come back up. You can’t see him in the aisles, but as he moves between aisles, he always looks at you. The security camera screen is just to your right and you can’t help but watch him as he puts away the random collection of items.

You’re nervous, too distracted by his presence to focus on anything. You were somewhat excited to spend such a prolonged period of time with him. However, you were also absolutely terrified that you would make a fool of yourself or simply seem too boring.

“Okay,” You hear him say, already aware that he was making his way back to the front. “All done.” He is now holding three cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and a chocolatey protein bar. “Can I also get a couple of taquitos?”

“What kind?” You ask, reaching forward to start scanning his items.

“Your pick, I guess."

You smile at him and see he’s already grinning at you. You can’t help it, everything he does seems to make you happy beyond logic. “I’ll give you one chicken and one fiesta. The beef is fine and the cheese is not good.”

“Sounds like a plan,” He laughs, pulling out his card to pay and then opening a can and taking a big swig.

“Did that guy getting some make you crave them?” You ask, a joking glint in your eyes as you look up at him.

“Am I a misogynist if I say yes?” He replies, making you let out a laugh that was just a little too loud.

When you hand him the taquitos, he leans back onto the counter, head turned so you can see his side profile. He has the drink in one hand and the paper bag of taquitos in another. He takes a bite, a comfortable silence falling over you both. You occupy your time by looking down at your computer and mindlessly clicking around while you try to think of things to talk about. 

“How was work?” You say, deciding on that as the least risky option.

“Good,” He shrugs. “We finished a little late and traffic meant I didn’t get home till almost 7 pm.”

“Oh jeez,” You groan. “My commute is pretty easy in the morning because I go opposite the traffic.”

“I’m jealous,” He replies, smiling at you. “Do you live far from here?”

A shock of electricity shoots through your body. “Somewhat. This isn’t my local convenience store, but I’m not that far.”

Spencer nods, “This isn’t mine either.”

“What?”

He turns to look at you, eyebrows perked up like he didn’t just say something ridiculous.

“This isn’t your nearest convenience store,” You repeat slowly. When he nods, you ask, “So why do you come here?”

Spencer laughs, realizing his mistake. “The one nearest me is literally down the street, but they don’t always have these,” He answers, holding up the pineapple orange mango-flavored drink. “This store is only a few more minutes away and it always has them.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s because you buy our stock,” You joke. “I’ve literally had my boss ask about why we are selling so many more.”

“Really?” He gasps, leaning in closer. “I used to only make the walk here if the closer one was out, but four months ago I just stopped bothering.”

The fact that four months is when you started working is not lost on you. Feeling confident, you add, “What about when you get coffee? I’m sure the other one has coffee.”

“True.” He looks slightly caught off guard, eyes scanning the store before speaking, “I only come to get coffee here if I’m too lazy to make it at home and running early enough to…” He pauses for a second, the sentence closing as if it wasn’t the planned ending. Finally, he adds, “To see you.”

You hum, looking down because your face is warm and you’re at a loss for words. Luckily, he’s too nervous to look at you either. You feel tingly, knowing full well that this is a special moment that you’ll look back on if you end up dating.

“Anyways,” Spencer breaks the silence. Before he can say anything else, he yawns, mouth opening wide.

“You know you can go home, right?” You laugh. When you look down at your computer, you see it’s about half an hour later. “No one has come in and I doubt anyone will before Marie gets here.”

“No, no,” He protests. “And anyway, aren’t I making time fly?”

“I suppose,” You grin. “You are quite great company.”

Spencer flashes you a smile that makes your insides twist. You wonder if he is picking up on all this. If he can tell that you’re interested in him.

“I’m honored.”

“You should be.” You sarcastically quip. “I have high standards for the company I keep close to me.”

“Is this close?” He contemplates aloud. “I’ve never even seen you without your black polo, black pants, and nonslip shoes.”

You laugh, looking down at your clothes. “Don’t you like this fit?”

“I mean, I love it,” Spencer starts, “But I don’t know how much you’re serving day to day.”

“I serve even when I’m only going to class,” You protest. “Maybe when I’m done with finals, I’ll grace you with my out-of-work personality.”

Spencer grins, “I’d be honored.”

You’re on high alert, knowing exactly what was happening.

“You should be,” You echo, unsure of what else to say. It doesn’t matter though. You could say anything and Spencer would find you charming.

“Maybe we can go to competing stores and graffiti them,” He suggests, long since turned around so he can look at you fully.

“Pft,” You laugh. “I don’t want to get arrested with you the first time we hang out.”

“You don’t? That’s usually my go-to!”

“Well, my go-to is food. Or the arcade.”

“The arcade?” He questions. “All this time I’ve been talking about games and you’ve never mentioned that you’re also a gamer?”

“I am not!” You protest. “Definitely not compared to you. You’re a savant and I’m the fool.”

“I doubt that,” He replies, a grin never leaving his face as he leans in closer. “I say arcade so I can check out your skills.”

“Deal,” You say, leaning onto the counter so you are only a few feet away. “The arcade it is.”

[milliumizoomi]

armando headcanons w his gf that is the total opposite of him? kind of like grumpy x sunshine? 😫

𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒

☆彡SUMMARY.; In which Armando doesn’t understand why for the love of god he fell in love with such a hyperactive woman.

☆彡FEATURED.; ARMANDO ARETAS x FEM!READER

☆彡TROPE.; ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP || GRUMPY x SUNSHINE

☆彡FORMAT.; HEADCANONS

☆彡GENRE.; FLUFF + CRACK + ANGST [if you squint]

☆彡WARNINGS.; Mature Language, mentions of violence, mentions of guns, mentions of possessiveness,

☆彡NOTES.; no cause I saw this request and immediately knew this was gon be tewwww funny😭,, thank u soooo much for the request love and I hope you all enjoy!!🩵

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED🎉.

★ firstly, I’d like to preface this by saying that you both met through his dad.. in a roundabout type of way

★ He was working a case with his dad, got shot at, the usual, shooter missed and you, an innocent bystander, almost got a hole put in your body had he not snatched you out of the way

★ and after that, he just became interested in you

★ his dad even game him a phone just so he can call and text you

★ and to be honest he wonders why.. because you’re “strange” he says

★ maybe it’s the fact that you didn’t even flinch when you almost got shot at, opting to thank him with a bright and warm smile

★ or maybe it’s the fact that as your relationship progressed, you found out who he was and what he does for a living and simply shrugged it off

★ he genuinely doesn’t get it.. at all

★ but you barely give him enough time to keep him thinking about that when every second you’re with him you’re practically bouncing off the walls

★ the both of you couldn’t be any different

★ you were practically a ball of hot radioactive energy, always laughing or smiling about anything at all

★ while he liked staying quiet, and when he does open his mouth it’s straight disrespect to anyone he’s taking to

★ so naturally, he finds you hard to deal with at times

★ not in the sense that he’s irritated with you, but in the sense that he wants to knock you out just so you can calm down

★ and if someone irritates him, you’d have to step in and excuse him before he can say anything that would get a gun pointed in his face or a fight breaks out

★ and when he’s around, you get fully dependent of him

★ seeming that he’s not around a lot having been in jail, whenever he does come out, whether it be a couple weeks or even months, whenever you get to see him it’s like you turn your brain off and let him make all the decisions

★ and as much as he hates to admit it, he actually doesn’t mind when you act like that (he loves it)

★ you act so wise eyed and elated everytime you’re with him

★ which throws off a lot of people in his circle of “associates” as he likes to call them

★ because how the hell did this happy go lucky woman get this is cold blooded murderer

★ and then you’ll just tell them “he’s hot and I love him so it works out”

★ and with you being so hyper and energetic, he’d definitely be reeling you in some of the time

★ he’d wouldn’t be rude with it though, but he’s very firm with you

★ like if he thinks you’re getting too loud when you’re in a group and having a conversation he’d be pull you into him by your waist so your back is on his chest

★ then he’d whisper in your, “calma tu trasero mamá” (Calm down your ass, mama)

★ and you ofc listened cause like.. who wouldn’t???

★ because of your personality, people tend to flock around you a lot, loving the energy you give off

★ he however, doesn’t play that shit and will tell people to back the fuck up

★ especially when he realizes that you’re starting to get uncomfortable

★ he’s possessive as shit so anybody he doesn’t know he doesn’t want crowding you or being in your space

★ you’d also bite him a lot and he’d let you

★ simply because your bites barely feel like anything since his pain tolerance is so high from all the fights and shoot outs he’s been in

★ and eventually, whenever you do manage to wear yourself out, he’ll carry you, whether it’s on his back or he picks you up by your thighs and wraps your legs around his waist

★ you definitely made him softer, to the people he knows like his dad and stuff, but that’s about it

★ and whenever he does get mad at you, he can’t even say he’s actually angry because you’d be smiling in his face

★ and when he is in jail and you go visit him, you carry his favorite foods and stuff and put little sticky notes with smiley faces and I love you messages that he can only crack a little smile and shake his head at

★ and seeming that your always so happy, you smile doing anything at all, and he loves that cause he thinks your smile is so pretty

★ that doubled with the fact that he finds your lips extremely sexy for some reason

★ and he’s actually very protective over you

★ type of boyfriend to say “wear what you want, I can fight”

★ you definitely soften up his image while with him

★ usually he’s the silent, intense type when he’s alone, but when you’re standing next to him, smiling up and him and pulling at him to go somewhere with you then the intensity goes down somewhat

★ that’s only cause he’s looking at you tho, when he has to look away from you that intensity comes right back

★ firmly believe also if and when he comes to you with injuries, you take care of them until you’re sure they’re all cleaned and wrapped properly

★ in private, he loves when you wash his hair or doing hair for him while you’re yapping away about something that happened while you were out that day

★ so in conclusion, you stress him out in the best way possible and he makes you put all you social abilities to good use to get his ass out of trouble

{TAGLIST} :: @loakswifesworld @ghettogirly @tinys0ftie @shurisgf || if you’d like to be added to the taglist just let me know in comments or dms😉💕.

[cellophanejpeg]

i know you want my touch for life | s. hanta

s: After confessing his feelings for you and running away, Sero finally comes back to you.

w: blood, injuries, bathroom sex

n: my deepest and most sincere apologies for taking so long! my brain was throwing a tantrum ): thank you to everyone who commented, liked and reblogged this series! hope you stick around for more Sero thoughts in the future! beta read by my queen @jemifis | read on ao3

previous | start here

Please, call me back.

Hanta, let’s talk about it. Please.

Don’t push me away.

I miss you.

You stare at the text messages you’ve been sending Sero for the past week as you walk down the street on your way back from the grocery store. He hasn’t read the last one yet, though. His last words said to you still echo in your mind, even a week later. You haven’t seen him at work, so you suspect he’s changed his patrol shifts on purpose just so he can avoid you.

You don’t understand why he ran away after confessing. If he had stayed, he would’ve heard you say you loved him back, but he decided to literally jump out the window, leaving you in shock. You remember it had taken a few minutes for you to come to your senses, processing what just happened. Then, you had grabbed your phone to call him, but he has been ignoring you ever since.

The door to your apartment beeps once you type the password to it and you step in, taking off your shoes before closing it behind you. Immediately, you know something is wrong. The air is colder, an icy draft is coming from the window you didn't leave open when you left. Carefully leaving your bags of groceries on the floor, you activate your quirk and walk carefully through your home.

A sound comes from your bathroom, something dropping to the floor and someone swearing. You immediately recognize their voice.

“Hanta?” You say, from the bathroom door.

He's still in his hero costume, sitting on the floor, back turned to you. The supplies from the emergency kit you keep in the cabinet are all scattered on the floor, some bloody gauze and cotton balls staining the white tiled floor. Sero jumps when he hears your voice, looking over his shoulder to you.

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” You rush towards him, kneeling on the floor to see blood everywhere. He presses some clean gauze on an ugly wound on the right side of his stomach.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles, trying to hide his wounds from you, cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“What happened?!” You look for his eyes, but he avoids you. Your hands touch his, gently prying them apart from his wound. When you see it's a gash, not a stab wound, you almost sigh in relief. At least, you wouldn't have to take him to the hospital, “Here, let me help you.”

You grab some scissors from the sink cabinet to cut around his uniform so you can clean the cut. The silence fills the gap as you carefully cut through the fabric; you feel his eyes on you now that you’re concentrated on the wound. You open an antiseptic bottle and dab a gauze on it.

“Are you going to tell me what happened, or you’re just gonna stare at me the whole time?” You say, carefully dabbing the wet gauze on his cut.

“Villain…” He says after hissing from the sting, “got away… I don't know why I came here…”

A small smile curves your lips. “I'm glad you did. I missed watching Gossip Girl with you.”

Sero looks into your eyes for a moment before you resume your ministrations on him. A comfortable silence falls over you both; he watches as you take your time, enjoying the sensation of your fingers gently grazing on his skin. Then, you walk over to your bedroom and pull a shirt and a pair of sweats for him to wear.

“I think you should shower before I patch you up.”

He stands up, with some difficulty, and starts zipping down his hero suit. If this was before, you’d be basking on the sight, watching every curve and crease of his abdomen. But it’s different now. Sero ran away after confessing his feelings for you, and maybe he made a mistake in your eyes. You don’t want him to run now, so you don’t even mention the time you spent apart from him.

Even though this is the longest you’ve gone without speaking to him.

“Sure,” he responds, taking the clothes from you. You grab the doorknob to close the bathroom door, but he stops you, wrapping his hand around your wrist, “Angel…”

You swallow hard, avoiding eye contact.

“I’m sorry–”

“We don’t have to talk about it.” You interrupt him, putting your own feelings aside. Of course you want to talk about it, you want to spill your guts to him, say you love him back and kiss him until you’re out of breath. But if he doesn’t want to be with you, his friendship will have to do.

You can’t lose him, not over some stupid crush–

“I shouldn’t have run like I did…” Sero interrupts your thoughts. Your gaze snaps up to him and you see the sincerity.

“Please, don’t…” You plead, tears watering your eyes, “don’t ever do that again.”

He cups your cheeks to wipe the tears that are already rolling down your face, touching your foreheads together and whispering another apology.

“If you had stayed, you would’ve heard me saying it back.” You finally confess, wrapping your hands around his wrists, and closing your eyes. You miss the way he tenses at your words, snapping his eyes open. “But I don’t want to lose you… So if you didn’t mean it, if you said it in the heat of the moment… let’s put it behind us and–”

Sero’s lips press against yours, swallowing your words. You pause for a moment, before giving into his embrace. Your arms wrap around his neck as he pulls you closer, slipping his tongue past your lips. He walks you backwards until your lower back touches the sink and, at that, he hooks his hands behind your thighs and helps you up – grunting, since his wound is still very fresh –, on the cold marble surface.

“Hanta.” You try to say, but he’s already pulling your shorts down your hips. “Wait, stop.”

Sero looks at you with hunger in his eyes, but pauses his movements, fingers so close to your core, itching to touch you.

“Your wound–”

“It doesn’t hurt,” he interrupts, burying his face on your neck and gently biting your skin.

“But–” you try to protest, but he doesn’t let you.

“Please, Angel,” he mumbles against your skin, the pad of his thumb rubbing against your clit, “please let me love you, please.”

Heat blooms in your stomach as your heart skips a beat. Thoughts escape your mind as he makes his way down on your body, licking, sucking your skin, and gently nipping on your soft flesh. He pulls your shorts down, along with your underwear, unceremoniously, not wanting to waste a second without touching you. You lift your hips, one side at a time, so he can undress you easily and, soon enough, your ass is on the cold sink.

Sero spreads your legs and knees on the floor, burying his face in your heat. With every lick and stroke of his tongue, you grow wetter and your breath grows heavier. Then Sero pushes two fingers inside you as he stands up, pressing his lips against yours again.

“Can't wait any longer, sorry, Angel, I just–”

He sounds so needy, that you can't help but give in to him. You nod, making sure he knows it's okay for him to give in. Sero unzips his suit, revealing his already hard cock and you barely get a look before he's pushing inside you.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, bottoming out and grabbing your thighs so tightly that his blunt nails dig on your skin.

“Shit, Hanta.” You gasp as he starts a quick and hard pace, “Fuck, I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too,” he confesses, “Missed you so fucking much.”

You lace your fingers behind his neck, bringing his face to yours, touching foreheads and bumping noses. An occasional kiss is shared between the both of you, but it's mostly curses and affectionate words. You know when he's about to come as his thrusts start to quicken and the moans that slip past his lips are broken.

“I love you!” He breathes on your neck, releasing his orgasm and spilling everything inside you, “Fuck, I love you. I love you so much, Angel.”

A smile spreads on your face, as you recover from his outburst.

“I love you,” you respond, carding your fingers on his hair, “I have been loving you since we were stupid teenagers.”

Sero breathes out a laugh, pressing his lips on your neck.

“Sorry I ran away like that,” he whispers, cupping your cheek with a hand, “I was a little embarrassed…”

You're still smiling at him when you press your lips on his gently.

“I'm glad you came back.” Your hand wraps around his wrist gently. “But I need you to shower. It's a miracle you're not bleeding again.”

Sero laughs, pulling away from – and out of – you.

“Join me?” He takes your hand in his, a pleading look on his face.

You roll your eyes, “No. Shower and then we can go again.”

“Then, we can watch Gossip Girl?”

You laugh out.

“Yes, we can.”

You stand on your toes to kiss him on the lips. Then you push his shoulder, towards the shower box.

“Now, go.”

“Love you,” he says, “see you in a bit.”

“See you.” You leave the bathroom, butterflies in your stomach, joy flooding your senses.

@lousypotatoes @shoyosdoll @fresa-luna @crazyvalerie1236 @siillkie @jeanbabygirl @bookcluberror @joshhutchersonisdaddy @mudibleee

[peterm4rker]

(❆⋆.˚) little white lie !

🕸🕷✮⋆ [mark x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 2.8k w. cursing, lmk if you find any! fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

this christmas you were undoubtedly, royally fucked.

it had all started very innocently, a white lie to get your family off your back once and for all. but then it snowballed to create one big, ugly snowman to personally hunt you all through winter. it was because of him that you chewed at your nails nervously as you looked at the text that reflected on your screen, your cousin’s name adorning the top of the chat.

you should invite your bf to go christmas shopping with us! i'm sure k will be happy to have someone to talk to :)

fuck.

the text was nothing but friendly and well intended, there was just one tiny little problem. you did not have a boyfriend to invite. you tried to come up with an excuse, but you had unfortunately used every single valid thing that you could’ve thought of to get your nonexistent boyfriend off of all the family activities he was invited to.

“what are you making your fingers bleed for?” mark, your best friend, asked as he approached your body on the couch, holding two mugs of tea. once he placed them on the coffee table, he reached for your hand and moved it from your lips down to your lap as he always did to prevent you from harming yourself. 

“my cousin wants me to invite my boyfriend to celebrate christmas with my family” you groaned, your hands going up to rub at your eyes in frustration. 

mark’s eyebrows furrowed as he heard you speak “what boyfriend?”

and that’s when it downed on you, the fact that you had never told mark about your little white lie. you thought of ways to avoid the question, wracking your brain to find something to say other than “you actually, i've been lying to my family for months to get them off my back and they think you’re my very beloved and devoted boyfriend.” but you knew he wouldn’t leave it alone until he knew the truth, also, you had never been able to lie to mark.

“you” you muttered, face still behind your hands as you tried to pretend this wasn’t happening.

“huh?” mark asked incredulously, causing you to look from in between your fingers at his dumbfounded expression “come again?”

you took a deep breath before speaking again, finally moving your hands down and meeting his eyes. “a few months ago, at seollal i told my family i had a boyfriend because they wouldn’t stop pestering me about it and when they asked me who it was i couldn’t think of any other name but yours” 

mark ignored the way his heart skipped a beat at the knowledge that his name was the first one to pop into your head when you had to make up a fake boyfriend, looking at you with wide eyes “dude! that's like almost a year ago! why didn't you tell me?”

“i know! but it wasn’t supposed to last this long or be this important, you had no reason to know” you explained, notably stressed as you ran a hand through your hair “i’m sorry, okay?”

“what on earth are you sorry about?” he questioned, even more confused than before.

“i shouldn’t have used you like that” you muttered, your voice sounding way softer than before as you looked down to your hands, beginning to pick at the skin again.

mark’s heart shrinked about three sizes as he watched you, feeling guilty for making you think he was mad about that. “i’m not mad at you” he reassured, taking your hand in his to make you stop your nervous reaction. “i’m just saying that if you had told me i could’ve helped you”

you lifted your eyes to stare into his, eyebrows furrowing slightly “help me how?”

“i don’t know, i could’ve acted like your boyfriend or something,” he shrugged, smiling now that your eyes had found his.

“you would do that?” you asked, your lips forming a smile instinctively at the sight of his own.

“of course i would, bro” he squeezed your hands softly before letting go of them, trying his hardest not to show how difficult it was for him to let go. 

“would you want to come christmas shopping with my cousin and her boyfriend, then? if we go to that she can confirm you’re real and prevent my parents from sending me into a psych ward for making up a guy” you chuckled softly, a little nervous. 

“for sure, i wouldn’t want my best friend to be sent away like that” he joked and bumped your shoulder with no strength. “just let me know when and i’ll even pick you up”

“she said on the 17th” you couldn’t contain your smile as you jumped forward, enveloping him in your arms “thank you so much, markie”

the boy prayed that you couldn’t feel the way his heart was racing at the contact. even when you were always a touchy person, he couldn’t help but get flustered whenever your body came in contact with his. “of course, ynnie.”

…

“okay, let's discuss boundaries” you spoke as you got into his car. the day of your first mission (as he liked to call it) had finally arrived, and he had picked you up just as he had promised. “we need to make it realistic, but i don’t want you to be uncomfortable so i think no kissing is obvious” you presented as he began driving.

“sure, yeah” he agreed, deciding that telling you that kissing you would not make him uncomfortable at all would be a little weird.

“anything you want to add?” you asked as you looked at his side profile, a smile on your lips as you stared at him.

“nah, we’re good” he looked at you for a second before turning back to the road.

the rest of the drive was filled with laughter and chaos as always, you two only settling down when he parked the car at the entrance of the mall. you looked around for a few seconds until you found your cousin and her boyfriend standing by their car. 

“okay, they’re over there” you pointed out “ready, boyfie?” you asked with a humorous tone lingering in your voice.

“so ready, sweetheart” he smiled and got out of the car, moving quickly to open your door for you. you smiled and rolled your eyes in amusement at how hard he was trying before beginning to walk towards your cousin. 

you greeted her excitedly, then moved on to greet her boyfriend. you had known him for years, and were quite friendly with him. “guys, this is mark, my boyfriend” you smiled as you introduced them.

mark almost screamed at how being introduced as your boyfriend made him feel, even if it was fake “hey guys, nice to meet you” he smiled as he extended his hand towards the girl, shaking it politely.

time passed as you walked around the mall, your attention mostly on your cousin as you caught up after too long of not seeing each other, your respective ‘boyfriends’ walking a little behind as they carried your bags.

“she talks about you a lot, you know” yudai said as he caught mark looking at you adoringly, taking advantage of how you couldn’t see him.

“she does?” mark asked, tearing his eyes away from the back of your neck to look at the man walking next to him.

he nodded at his question, smiling at how the younger boy seemed so excited to know his girlfriend talked about him. “she always goes on about how much you take care of her and how funny you are, you make her really happy.” and right then and there, mark knew he made a horrible mistake when he said he would help you. there was no way his heart would come out untouched.

before he could open his mouth to answer, you stopped walking and settled by his side “what are you two talking about?”

“nothing, don’t worry about it,” mark smiled, hugging your shoulders and bringing you closer to him. the action took you by surprise, but you settled on his side anyways.

… 

“my parents want to meet you,” you told mark as you sat in front of him in a restaurant you had gone to for lunch. “they got jealous because my cousin met you first.”

mark chuckled softly as he finished eating, shaking his head at the comment “and when are we supposed to meet them?”

“we could go to their house for dinner today, get it over with so you don’t have to keep pretending anymore, if you’re okay with missing hyucks contest, of course.” you shrugged, trying to act disinterested as you tried to figure out why those words didn’t sit right with you.

“uhm, yeah sure” he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes like it always did.

“everything okay?” you asked, tilting your head curiously. “we don’t have to miss it if you don’t want to”

“no, it’s okay, i’m just kinda nervous to meet your parents” he shrugged, attempting to not show the disappointment it caused him to think of your whole charade being over.

“don’t worry, markie, they’ll love you” you gave him a reassuring smile and suddenly all the negative feelings left his mind.

a couple hours later, mark stood next to you in front of your parent’s door, extremely nervous. it didn’t matter to him that he wasn’t your actual boyfriend, he really wanted your parents to like him.

“It's okay, they’ll believe the whole thing” you attempted to reassure him, only making him worse at the reminder that you had no reason to be nervous. you were planning the fake break up already anyways. his thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of fingers tangling with his “they’ll love you.”

and the way your eyes looked at him with such sureness that he couldn’t help to feel like everything would be okay as long as you stood by his side. 

he waited for you to let go of his hand as the door opened, but it never happened. he squeezed it softly as he greeted your parents, making sure to shake their hands with his free one, wanting to hold on for as long as he could.

the night flowed perfectly as your parents practically fell in love with the boy you had brought home. it was weird, really, to be sitting there as mark told them a story about how he got lost at a mirror maze once and ended up at the hospital. he looked so pretty, smiling away as he used his abilities to charm your parents.

but you couldn’t be thinking of that, because it was all fake. he was just doing you a favor, and you couldn’t forget that for a single second or it would be bad.

“anyways, your daughter here made fun of me for about three months straight” he said, swooping your hands to lace his fingers with yours.

“i took care of you, though,” you retorted, laughing softly as you tried to defend yourself.

“true, you did,” he smiled as he brought your hands to his lips, leaving a kiss on the back of yours before diving right back into his conversation.

damn, he was a really good actor.

“you should come to christmas dinner this year” your father suggested as the four of you stood on the doorway.

“i don’t know if he can, dad, he has plans already” you said “right?” you looked at mark, silently hoping that for some miraculous reason he would say no.

“i do” of course “but i’ll gladly cancel them if you want me to be here.” oh?

you looked at him with confusion written all over your face. was he really willing to cancel his plans to play pretend boyfriend with you in christmas?

“let’s talk about it later, yeah?” you asked, looking at him breathlessly. had he always looked at you like he would be willing to give you his world on a silver platter?

the boy nodded before turning back to your parents, greeting them politely before you walked towards his car. the ride back to your apartment was silent, the only sound coming from the radio.

“you don’t have to come, you already canceled on your friends today” you said, voice barely above a whisper as you broke the silence.

“i don’t mind, i’ve spent every christmas with them since i was fifteen.” he mumbled back, afraid to speak too loud in the ambiance you had created. 

“and you would rather break that streak to be with my family?” you questioned, your heart racing slightly at how soft his voice was.

“i would rather break it to spend it with you.” he retorted, and you felt your heart miss a couple of beats as he pulled into the driveway.

��i’ll see you on the twenty fourth, then” you smiled, doing little to hide how endeared you were to his words.

“i’ll pick you up, sweetheart.” he smiled back, nearly making you giggle as you got out of the car.

…

it was finally christmas day, and mark was terrified as he waited for you to walk out of your apartment building so he could drive you both to your parents’ house where he would meet your entire family as your (fake) boyfriend.

“oh, wow” he muttered as he finally saw you. the cozy winter outfit you wore nearly made him faint “you look beautiful”

you bit your flustered smile back as you looked him up and down, taking in how handsome he looked. “you don’t look too bad yourself.”

he thanked you before opening your car door for you, something he had picked up on those last few weeks of pretend dating, allowing himself to look at you for a couple more seconds before closing the door.

“i have to say, with the amount of gossip i’ve heard about your family, i think i'm extremely prepared for tonight” he bragged as he drove towards your destination.

“shut up and drive,” you laughed, rolling your eyes.

the night had gone by better than you expected. your entire family was mesmerized by the boy, and you couldn't help the pride that made your chest swell at the sight of him laughing with your uncles on the other side of the room.

“you really were whipped, aren’t you?” your younger cousin asked as he sat down next to you.

you looked at mark for a couple more seconds before tearing your eyes away from him “yeah” you said, almost breathlessly “i am”

the boy made a disgusted expression, eliciting a soft giggle to tumble past your lips. “he is too, he told me”

wait, what?

“he did?” you asked, unable to hide the surprise that coated your voice. 

“yeah, why are you surprised?” the boy judged “haven’t you been dating for like a year?”

“yes, it’s just a little surprising still” you chuckled awkwardly, trying to diffuse the situation.

“it shouldn’t be, look at how he looks at you” he pointed towards mark, making you look his way. your eyes caught his immediately, betraying the secrecy of his loving stare.

your breath hitched on your throat as mark didn’t look away from you. “sorry, i´ll be back in a minute” you muttered before standing up and walking towards mark. “mind if i steal him for a minute, thanks” you smiled as you grabbed his hand and dragged him away to an empty hall.

“hey, ynnie, whats up?” he asked as you stood in front of him. there was a lovesick smile adorning his face, along with a look you recognized from the night he met your parents.

“maki told me you told him you're whipped for me” you blurted out, and mark’s smile only widened.

“i did” he assured.

“because it would reveal our act if you didn’t” you stated, more for yourself than for him.

“or because i am” he commented, a hand coming up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“what?” you asked, astonished at the words that had just left his mouth.

“look up for me really quick, will you?” he asked, his voice sounding like honey and only confusing you further. you still looked up, heart stopping at the sight of a mistletoe hanging right on top of you.

you looked back at mark, at his beautiful eyes and his even more beautiful smile and you just couldn’t take it anymore. your hands found place behind his neck as you stood on your tippy toes, joining your lips together in a kiss you both had waited a little too long for.

mark’s hands made their way to your waist, pulling you closer as he felt relief all through his body.

there was no way this was fake.

★ blue's corner ;; i couldn't make a series and not put mark in it, we all know this. this is part of the love actually series that i'm doing with both of my blogs ! ★ taglist ;; @neozon3nha @winwintea @spacejip @dudekiss3r @yizhrt @lyvhie @morkiee @astrasng ★ back to the masterlist. ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!! ★ divider by @fairytopea

© peterm4rker, 2024

[exyrpf]

Exyblr Dashboard Simulator based on what I personally see on sportsblr:

1/?

👑 girlbossriko follow

how many bro jobs do you think it took before riko moriyama and kevin day realized that uh.....maybe this wasn't just a bro thing

👢exyinaphonebooth follow

how many times do they have to come out and say they're like brothers before you freakos stop shipping them

👑 girlbossriko follow

????? do i know u

#it's a tumblr post about two exy players that you'lll never meet in your life it really isn't that deep

558 notes

💃fox-me-up follow

ngl that newest fox is kinda 👀

#psu lb #exy lb

8 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 talk-exy-to-me

The NARRATIVE that kevin day and neil josten have........son of exy! scouting the rookie-est of rookies from fuck knows arizona........no listen you dont GET IT winning is EVERYTHING TO KEVIN and he would risk it on the foxes? And NEIL? who has only played exy for a year! NEIL Gets his attention!!!!! And hes good and he's getting better every game and he keeps bitching about kevin's ex on live tv BUT WAIT!???? NOT QUITE WHAT YOU EXPECT! Bc then neil shows up with a number on his cheek BECAUSE WELL it turns out they've known each other since they were KIDS! how is everyone not insane w me THEY'RE LITERALLY PERFECT

#where r my fellow njkd truthers #how r u all not here with me this isnt even the start #kevneil #210 #psu #njkd

102 notes

☀️ usctrojanny

every smiley blonde striker (jeremy knox) needs a brunette wet cat emotional support backliner (jean moreau)

#jerejean #usc trojans #i'm just saying ��‍♀️

58 notes

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

did he just......

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

guys please tell me i'm not insane

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

HE'S NEVER BEEN????? SKIIING???? KEVIN WHAT DOES THAT MEAN ?????? KEVIN PLEASE

#i i'm going insane i will literally die if someone doesn't explain this to me HE'S NEVER BEEN SKIING?!!!!

407 notes

🧚 goalie-stan

oh....i'm feeling so weak......it'd sure be nice to have a big strong goalie (renee walker) hold me up (renee if you're free on tuesday i am also free on tuesday.........on tuesday this tuesday, any tuesday?)

#literally passing out just thinking about her holding me don't call don't text i'm busy

84 notes

🌄 softkevinday follow

do u think if u offered kevin day essential oils to heal his hand he'd beat you to death

#it'd be hard for him bc he only has one hand but he could probably do it #legally this is a joke don't do this

284 notes

🗣️ jeremyknoxes follow

feeling normal

215 notes

📜 realexyblog

actually exy rpf is fine, i asked kayleigh day herself and she told me it was fine

112 notes

🐋 sexyexy

'exy is a stupid name for a sport' have you considered that a) i don't care and b) it's named that solely so i can make sex jokes about it

11 notes

🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow

is he, ya know *mimes jerking off* an ncaa exy player

#i don't believe that straight exy players exist

56 notes

🙈 ittybittyminny follow

Andrew Minyard!!!!!!! 🥰🥰 short king!!!!🤏🤏😋😋 Awwwwwwww the scrunkly!!!!! 🤗🤗🤗 My boinky boy!!!!!🥺🥺 Crinkly doo,,,,shronkle scrimblo......🥺🥺🥺 rb if you'd scrunkle!!!!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

📖 sapphic-exy follow

he literally killed someone

🙈 ittybittyminny follow

And? God forbid women do anything

#also no proof he did that #yeah there's proof his twin bro killed someone but that's not the same bc theyre different people #almost killing someone doesnt count

807 notes

🐦‍⬛ edgarallenexy

got told i'm problematic for liking the ravens? THAT'S LITERALLY MY SCHOOL OH MY GOD

2 notes

🌸 softexy

Kevin Day - A Study

#kevin day #psu foxes #palmetto foxes #exy #web weave #poetry #psu foxes #palmetto #edgar allen

378 notes

[sylveon-official]

thoughts on angel's heartbreak

viv has already said that angel is gonna get his heart broken sooo

i imagine husk pushes a boundary. we've already seen husk push angel's limits quite a few times. he's obviously really judgmental and i think that's one of his biggest flaws. it almost seems like a defense mechanism, that because he's already given up on himself, he doesn't want to waste angel's potential and so he's harder on him.

we've got tons of examples of this in masquerade, with husk calling him fake. and even in welcome to heaven when angel is considering taking drugs, husk totally plays a guilt trip - "go ahead if you wanna mess up all your progress, i just thought you were better than that"

i think that's how the 'heartbreak' is gonna happen. angel can't believe he's got a someone like husk in his life and he's so smitten, coming to terms with his feelings for husk and tentatively getting hopeful that they're reciprocated. like husk has built him up enough to the point that angel feels he can break down his walls around him, so they're getting closer, more flirtatious in a really sweet way, sometimes even a little touchy.

so imagine them being at this stage, where angel so fully trusts him, which is a big deal for him. and then angel fucks up real bad. he's been clean for almost 6 months and him and everyone else in the hotel are super proud. but after a hard day in the studio he just breaks and goes on an all night bender. like he's out so late husk starts to worry and texts him, but all he gets is a belligerent phone call like "huskYYY BAaaby don' worry i'm jus' out w the girls from the studio u should be here miss yoo-" and then some guy cuts in like "angelbaby, i thought you were gonna show me a good time?" and angel's like "mmm oh ya cmere daddy~" and the call cuts off.

husk is fuckin pissed, not just bc angel is off the wagon after making so much progress, but he's also jealous. like they were obviously heading in the direction of something more, or so he thought, but here's angel back to his old self-destructive habits, getting fucked up and fucking random guys.

the next day, husk finds angel passed out on the on the couch. usually he would wake him up with breakfast or coffee if he knew he'd had a long night at the studio, but this time he just rolls his eyes and gets to work on the bar, maybe stuffing glasses back into cabinets a little louder than usual.

that wakes angel up and he's like, "huuusk what the fuck couldya keep it down?"

"it's almost noon. don't you have something to do? or someone..." he mumbles the last part, but angel hears and is wide awake like, "fuckin' excuse me?"

"what? you don't remember callin' me last night? sounded like you scored a real charmer"

angel is stalking up to the bar getting embarrassed and defensive, "wtf? since when do you care who i'm fuckin' in my free time?"

"i guess since it obviously wasn't a choice you made entirely sober! what were you thinking?! you were clean 6 whole months, and you gave it up to what? snort coke off of some hunk's abs?!"

angel's mouth drops open and he doesn't know what to say but his heart stings. he knows he fucked up real bad, but it was a hard day and he guesses old habits die hard... it's his first real attempt at getting clean, and of course he's disappointed in himself. and honestly, he was planning on talking through it with husk, but now...

"well that is just rich coming from you," angel says, shaking, rolling his eyes in the direction of husk's bloody mary.

"yeah, well, i'm not the one trying to get into heaven-"

"fuck off with that shit husk! you don't think i know i fucked up?! i'm not an idiot! you don't gotta keep that line in your back pocket for every time i screw up! i already know it's fuckin' pointless, you don't need to keep reminding me, asshole, get over yourself!" and he starts storming off upstairs, eyes welling up.

husk does feel guilty, and wants to continue the conversation, but he's still firmly of the belief that if angel just pulls himself together, he's a shoo-in for redemption and it's frustrating to see him self-destruct after making more progress than ever before.

"angel, wait-"

"NO, fuck you husk!" angel turns around, tears streaming down his face, pointing an accusing finger. "i thought if anyone could understand, it'd be you! i know everyone else is gonna be disappointed in me, but you-" he pauses, gulps down his tears and steels his face, "i guess i don't know you as well as i thought i did" and then storms upstairs.

then angel would have a few consecutive weeks of totally self-destructive behavior on a whole new level than anyone else at the hotel had ever seen. maybe he even moves out of the hotel and back in with val, having given up not only on himself and his grand delusions of getting clean and redeemed, but also his "stupid school-girl crush" on husk.

this turned into something way longer than i intended lol, but my point is that since angel is gonna experience heartbreak we know it has to involve husk, and with husk's habit of guilt-tripping angel... i think it will need to blow up at some point and be seriously discussed.

i also think we need to see the 'it gets worse before it gets better' side of recovery bc obviously it's unrealistic that now that angel is a serious resident of the hotel, his addictions are just gonna magically disappear. and i think that's gonna cause some misunderstanding and turmoil with not only husk, but also our main cast.

[bbina]

it’s been a week since that night with wonbin and things between you and him have been a little weird.

these past recent days days wonbin has been facetiming more often, beginning to start petty arguments when you wouldn’t answer his calls and texts or when you’d blow him off to do something else you planned for the day. he’s been a lot clingier and you’re not too sure how to feel

in retrospect, you thought this whole fake dating thing with wonbin would only be until the trip ended just to cut some awkwardness between sungchan and his girlfriend, but after some unforeseen circumstances, you and wonbin had to keep playing pretend a bit longer. now everything has returned back to normal, you and sungchan finally patched up and you’ve gotten over him at this point. so you’re a bit confused on why wonbin is still keen on playing pretend

today wonbin asked again if you were free and if you wanted to go shopping with him since he feels bored and wanted to hang out but you responded that you were preoccupied with some family stuff with eunseok but in reality you didn’t have plans at all. you wanted to have some space between you guys for now especially after that night where he seemed to indirectly confess his feelings. this way you’ll have more time to think about how to break this arrangement you have with him as nice as possible without the possibility of hurting his feelings but you know otherwise that no matter how nice you put it, one way or another it will definitely strain whatever relationship you have with him right now

you could almost hear the frown on his face on the other line when you declined. the last thing he said was “oh okay. text me if anything happens, i’ll call you later” before he hung up the phone

you throw your phone on your bed as you flopped next to it, staring up at your ceiling just thinking about the past few months. how you’ve managed to convince all your friends that you and wonbin have been going out for a while and that you just decided to keep it a secret for god knows how long. you fear that your lies was gonna catch up with you soon but you shook away the thought

just as you could think more about the possible consequences of your actions, you hear someone knocking on your door.

you sat up in surprise. who could it be? could it be wonbin? did wonbin somehow find out that you lied that you were spending time with your family?

the door opens to reveal sungchan.

you let out a sigh in relief as you yelled at him for scaring you. sungchan simply just laughs and sits on the foot of your bed

“what do you want, jinsu?” you groan, lying back down on your bed, not even bothering to give him a glance

sungchan pokes your legs, “what’s with that reaction? aren’t you happy to see me come over?”

you rolled to your side, grabbing your phone as you scroll through wonbin’s updates. you begin to feel a little guilty for ignoring wonbin for the past few days. he deserves to know what you’re feeling

[1:27 PM] w ♥︎: just arrived in myeongdong baby [1:27 PM] w ♥︎: look at this hoodie. it’s such a vibe [1:28 PM] w ♥︎: y/nnnnnnn [1:32 PM] w ♥︎: ur taking too long to reply so i bought it. even if its new u can steal it if you'd like <3 [1:35 PM] w ♥︎: are u busy?? [1:43 PM] w ♥︎: baby this would look so good on u. do you want it? [1:47 PM] w ♥︎: passed by a jewelry store so i bought us matching necklaces [2:00 PM] w ♥︎: a reply might be nice..

instead of replying, you turned don’t disturb on and shut your phone off. sungchan notices your weird attitude and lays down next to you

“what’s wrong” sungchan asks as he pokes your cheek. you turn to face him and shrug,

“nothing”

“sure?”

“what do you want sungchan” you grumbled, rolling your eyes as you sit up. sungchan laughs, used to your mood swings. you wish he could just say it. you know he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to do something

“let’s hang out. i miss you” sungchan smiles, poking your sides making you jump. you hate how you’re so ticklish and sungchan knows that.

you grab your pillow and smack sungchan square in the face. sungchan lets out a low grunt of pain

“jesus christ when did you get so violent?” sungchan groans, “can’t i just ask to hang out with my best friend?”

“go bother eunseok instead” you groan, turning your back on him. you really didn’t want to deal with anyone today

“but eunseok doesn’t want to go out” sungchan whines, poking your shoulder endlessly but you still don’t budge.

“y/nnnnn” sungchan drawls, now laying next to you. with an irritated sigh, you sit up and shoo him out of the room as you get dressed. sungchan cheers as he heads out of your room. you rolled your eyes before chuckling. okay maybe there was no harm into this as it has been a while you hung out with sungchan one on one

—

wonbin stares at his phone for what seems like the nth time today. it’s been a couple hours since he texted you and not once did you sent a reply back nor did you even look at his messages. the big "Delivered" staring right back at wonbin

wonbin frowns as he stares at his lockscreen which was a picture of you. you asked him to change it when you saw it since it was a candid picture of you laughing but wonbin didn't listen and insisted he keeps it because to him you look so cute much to your dismay

“why isn’t she replying to me..” wonbin mumbles to himself, shutting his phone off as he pockets it. he sighs and continues on his day. pretending that your sudden change didn’t affect him at all.

wonbin was walking to the bus stop when he passes by the cafe he was raving to you about. he wanted to go with you but you kept declining his invites to hang out.

as he was passing by, he sees someone familiar with his peripheral vision.

he knows that physique anywhere. it looked like sungchan. he stops walking and stands closer at the window to take a closer look

and lo and behold, it was in fact sungchan!

wonbin was about to enter the cafe to greet sungchan but then he sees that he was with someone. that someone being you

his eyes widened in shock. is that why you weren’t replying to him all day? was it because you were with sungchan all along?

wonbin doesn’t understand what got to him. his heart feels heavy and feels like he shouldn’t have seen you two together. he watches as your head falls back as you laugh at sungchan’s dumb joke. he watches how you look so happy to be with sungchan when in fact it could’ve been with him

his chest tightens at the sickly sight. he scoffs before forcing himself to walk away but the image of you and sungchan who seem to be out on a date is imprinted in his mind

without thinking, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and sends you a quick message.

“can we meet later? i'm coming over"

—

your phone vibrates on the table.

sungchan was telling you about how all the accusations of his ex girlfriend in regards to you back then during the trip. to the point he himself was beginning to question the security of their relationship that ultimately ended up with him and her breaking up.

“i always had a thought that if she didn’t accept who you are in my life then i wouldn’t want them in mine. so i’m really sorry about her” sungchan shares as he recalls everything that happened.

“it was kinda my fault too for ignoring you back then. the way you were acting with me probably caused her to think that way so i’m sorry too” you say apologetically, being empathetic for your best friend. he didn’t deserve that although you were a bit smug that you were right all along for not really liking his ex girlfriend. though it did bother you a little that his girlfriend may have seen through your façade

your phone vibrates again. this time sungchan notices and points it out

“you should probably answer that” he says. you pick your phone up to see what was up.

it was a message from wonbin. you furrowed your brows as you read the message. it felt a little cold to be coming from wonbin

“who is it? is it eunseok?” sungchan asked, peering over to look at your screen. you shake your head no and said it was wonbin.

“wonbin? how are you guys? still going strong?” sungchan continues to ask, his eyes wide. still not accepting the thought of you dating one of his closest friends. to him it almost felt fake cause why would you suddenly announce a relationship that he didn’t know about

“uh yeah” you smile fakely, trying to come up with an excuse for his follow up question. “i guess..”

“hmm i’ve always wondered why you never told me that you liked him. or even the fact that you two were dating all along” sungchan suddenly says outloud

it almost scared you out of your wits with how much sungchan managed to see through your lies. he literally hit it right on the dot. talk about bullseye

“sungchan.. i have to tell you something” you take a deep breath, closing your eyes before looking at sungchan who had worry evident in his eyes.

“you can tell me anything”

“i-”

your conversation is cut off short when your phone starts to ring. it was eunseok who was calling.

“hello?” you picked up, seemingly a bit confused on why eunseok was calling you when knows where you were at and that you were with sungchan

“wonbin’s here” eunseok’s stone cold voice coming from the other end. you hear some talking in the background and you hear wonbin telling him to tell you that it’s urgent and that he needed to see you, “do you want me to tell him that you’re out with su–”

“no! that’s exactly what you don’t tell him” you cut him off abruptly. for all you know, wonbin thinks you were out with your family (that of which included eunseok)

“woah. chill, i won’t” eunseok says, “but you really need to come home now. it’s getting late”

you look at sungchan and mouthed it was time to go. he nods and grabs his car keys on the table. you both stand up as you walk out of the cafe, eunseok still on the line

“wonbin looks upset. what did you do?” you hear eunseok ask as you get into the passenger seat. you already wince at the thought that wonbin caught you lying to him. you hear him talk to wonbin in the background and you’re literally praying to the gods that something else made wonbin upset, “whatever. forget i asked. i’ll see you at home” with that eunseok hangs up

you didn’t even realize that you were holding in your breath til you let out a deep exhale. sungchan looks over for a moment before keeping his eyes back at the road

“what’s wrong?” sungchan asks, worried.

“just eunseok wanting me to go home” you say. technically it wasn’t a lie, it is true that he wanted you home.

“oh, i thought something happened. anyway what were you saying earlier before you got cut off?”

you suck in a deep breath. mentally preparing yourself on what you were gonna say to sungchan

“just promise me you won’t be weird right after?” you plead, looking at sungchan who kept his eyes on the road. you watch as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. as if like he would let anything between you would change

“me and wonbin….. aren’t really together” you admit, bracing yourself for his reaction. sungchan suddenly slams on the breaks, causing you to jolt forward. you were thankful you had the seatbelt on or else you would’ve ended up with a concussion

“what the fuck sungchan!” you yelped as the car halts to a stop. it was a good thing you were at an empty street when this shit happened. who knows maybe sungchan could’ve caused a traffic accident

“what do you mean you and wonbin aren’t together?!” sungchan whips his head around to face you. completely caught off guard. what did you mean by that?

“i’m really sorry sungchan but it was all a lie” you admit, looking down at your lap as you let sungchan process your words. “i-i was really hurt that you had a girlfriend at the time and in the heat of the moment i blurted out that wonbin and i were dating but it’s all not true. we were just pretending til the trip ended. i’m so sorry”

sungchan looks at you with wide eyes. what did you just say?

“so all this time.. you and wonbin… weren’t actually together? but just pretending to? what the fuck, y/n?” sungchan was completely at loss of words. so all this time?

you can only wince at his reaction. you expected this to happen. it was inevitable. it was only about time til your little white lie caught up with you somehow and that time is now

“i’m sorry sungchan i really don’t know what got to me at the time”

“why?”

“huh?”

“why did you do it?”

“it’s because i liked you, okay?!” you finally explode, tired of keeping all of this inside. it was eating you inside out knowing that you were just using his friend– your brother’s friend to get back at sungchan.

“what?” sungchan blurts out, did he hear you right?

“yes! i liked you, sungchan! for the longest time! i had a crush on you all this time and when you revealed that you had a girlfriend i was hurt! i wanted to get over you so that’s why i did it. god!” you bury your face into your hands, embarrassed beyond measure. you want nothing in this world but to swallow you whole. it was too late now

the car ride turns silent after that. sungchan stunned by your outburst. he doesn’t know what to say or how to feel, even. but the question in his head remains, why say that now?

“i don’t know what to say…” sungchan starts, trying to come up with something but eventually ends up with nothing.

“i know you don’t feel the same. you’ll always see me as your best friend’s little sister and i get that! but i just had to get this off my chest since it’s eating me alive. now please take me home” you feel tears prick the corner of your eyes. you harshly wipe away your tears as you wish that this car ride would end sooner

maybe you should've kept this one to the grave

sungchan stays quiet after that. not wanting to make things even weird than they already were. he needed a few days to process everything. to think about everything that went down

after what seems like forever you two finally arrive at your house. you and sungchan don’t say anything when he puts the car to park. not wanting to make wonbin wait much longer, you start to unbuckle your seatbelt

“wait!” sungchan calls, his arm extended out to prevent you from leaving just yet. “i just wanted to say that thank you for telling me your feelings” he starts

you internally groan, not wanting this kind of conversation with him. the secret is out so there’s nothing else left to say. all you wanted was a bit of dignity left in you but you know that’s a lie.

“i think you already know where this is going?” sungchan sheepishly smiles. of course you know. you know damn well he doesn’t see you like that and he never will. you accepted that fact a long time ago

“i know sungchan. i know” you smile faintly at the boy. “from the get go i can already tell but i just wanted to come clean and forget all this happened”

sungchan can only smile apologetically as he watches you compose yourself. he now understands why you were so harsh and brash around him during the trip. it was normal for you to react like that especially since he kept having a girlfriend from you for a while and the fact you had to find out unprovoked on a trip with friends, it was pretty normal for you to react that way

“friends?” sungchan prompts, opening his arms.

“you dumbass!” you cried, wiping a stray tear from your cheek, “friends” you invite yourself into his arms.

you think of it as closure for this chapter in your life. you were finally free from the chains of your stupid little crush on your brother’s best friend

your little moment with sungchan gets cut off with eunseok yanking the car door open.

“why the fuck are you guys taking so damn long to get out– oh” eunseok stops rambling when he catches you and sungchan hugging. you pull away from sungchan’s hold when you whip your head towards your brother to see him standing there with a shocked look on his face and wonbin behind him

you made eye contact with wonbin and his expression was something you don’t ever want to see. he looks like he just got betrayed. hurt washed all over his features. you watch him as he purses his lips shut as you scramble out of sungchan’s car

eunseok clears his throat to cut the dead silence. it was unbearable for him as it was to you. you hated how you found yourself in this tight situation.

you were caught red handed by wonbin himself.

“uh, wonbin’s been waiting for quite some time now so..” eunseok notes, looking around for a distraction.

“i’m gonna go home” wonbin says coldly. his jaw clenched, trying to calm himself down. your eyes widened as you look at wonbin, “wait!”

“save it, y/n” wonbin hisses, walking away from your house.

eunseok looks between you, sungchan and wonbin. wondering what the fuck is happening before you ran after wonbin.

sungchan can only sigh as he watches you run after his friend. he looks at eunseok apologetically before leaving

“i’ll tell you everything later but for now let them talk” was all sungchan said before getting into his car and driving away.

eunseok simply blinks and walks back inside the house. mumbling “what the fuck”

—

“wonbin wait!” you call out as you continue to run after him. wonbin scoffs, “go home, y/n”

as you catch up to him, panting for breath, you grab his arm, forcing him to look at you “wonbin it’s not what it looks like!” you cried out

wonbin turns around, his expression hardens,

“wonbin–”

“y/n, it’s exactly what it looks like” wonbin barks, yanking his arm back from your grip.

heart racing, you struggle to explain, “no i can explain–”

“blowing me off multiple times? ignoring my texts and calls for the past week? yeah i know where this is going. now go home” wonbin tries to shoo you off but the more he pushes you away the more his heart aches

frustration bubbles up inside you, “let me explain goddamn it!” you yelled, stopping your tracks to catch your breath. “you got the wrong idea. sungchan and i were just hanging out-”

“you lied to me. you said you were out with your family? don’t think i didn’t see you at that cafe because i definitely did” wonbin seethes, trying to contain his anger. he didn’t want to lash out on you but with the whole situation, it was hard not to.

your eyes widened at the fact all this time you were caught red handed by wonbin himself

“it’s still sungchan, huh” wonbin chuckles wryly, beginning to accept the fact that it’s always gonna be sungchan for you. you look at him confused. what?

you raise a brow, “what do you mean? sungchan was just telling me about how his ex girlfriend-”

wonbin stops in his tracks, slowly turning around to face you. did you just say ex girlfriend? oh right. sungchan and yujin broke up for a while now. so does that mean that whatever you have going on with him is now over? it’s done? just like that? after literally making you forget about sungchan, after all those heart to heart confessions here you go running back to him? it only took you a day to realize that you won’t need him anymore?

“ex girlfriend huh? i forgot he was single again. so i’m guessing you’re gonna go running back to him? i definitely got the right idea witnessing your little moment at his car back there now that his girlfriend is out of the picture. so are you two are finally together? is it a wish come true? huh, y/n?” wonbin presses on, taking a step towards you. he is in disbelief over the whole situation.

it can’t get any worse than this

his head is screaming at him to stop but he can’t. he’s so worked up that he couldn’t even process what he was saying.

with the way wonbin was talking to you right now, you know he was getting under your skin. you feel your eye twitch after hearing his accusations left and right when in reality he had no place in your life to be acting this way and saying such things about you like that. last time you checked, you two weren’t even a real thing!

“it’s like i’m the only one holding on to whatever we have going on, and it’s making me go fucking crazy.” wonbin fumes, his emotions getting the best of him

“we’re not even together! you’re not my real boyfriend so you don’t get to tell me shit! have you forgotten? we were just pretending to be in a relationship!” you finally snapped, feet stomped on the ground

at the same time you let go of these words, wonbin feels like his heart just broke into a million pieces. your words stinging. of course you two aren’t official. of course you two aren’t fucking real. of course. of fucking course. how could he forget? you were just using him to forget sungchan and he can’t believe how stupid he was to agree on such a thing or let alone even suggest that you use him to get over your best friend

there was a beat of silence after that. the realization of what you just said hits you not a moment later, you covered your mouth in shock. you were too engrossed in the moment to realize what you just said.

“wonbin i-”

“right,” wonbin begins. he starts to laugh hysterically that it’s scaring you. “i forgot”

wonbin finally looks at you. with a smile he says, “we’re not actually together. thank you for reminding me”

“wonbin no i didn’t mean it like that-'' you shakily reach out to him, hands trembling as you attempt to grab his hand but wonbin has already turned his back on you, shoulders tensed. right now he just wants to get out of here, away from you

“wonbin!” you call out, running after him again, desperate to make things right. but by the time you catch up with him, you realize that he’s crying.

wonbin is crying.

he is crying because of you. your heart aches at the sight. you definitely fucked up.

wonbin closes his eyes, letting his tears freely fall. he then looks at you, eyes filled with pain, betrayal and defeat. you opened your mouth to say something but wonbin beats you to it

“thank you for finally letting me realize who i really am to you because it's always gonna be him.. i honestly thought we’d become something after all those days and nights i’ve spent wiping your tears. i got to know you deep inside, i let you get to know me deep inside. i let you in only for you to let walk away with everything i had” wonbin pauses for a brief second,

“i let you break my heart, even if it meant i only get to have you when you needed it.”

wonbin suddenly cups your cheeks. his thumbs wiping the stray tears you didn’t even notice that were rolling down your cheeks

he takes a deep breath, trying to calm his breathing but it’s shaky. he then presses his lips against your forehead. it almost felt like he was savoring the remaining moments of what you two could’ve been

“i’m sorry i can’t be sungchan”

you widened your eyes at his statement. why does it feel like he’s saying goodbye? your chest tightens. it hurts. it hurts so much seeing wonbin like this. the weight of his pain was almost too much to bear and to think everything was all your fault

wonbin pulls away and rests his forehead against yours as he stares deeply into your eyes

“but do me one last favor" wonbin tucks some stray hair behind your ear. "please never talk to me again” he croaks. wonbin pulls your head to his chest for what seems to be the last time. wonbin squeezes his eyes shut, savoring this moment. this moment with you in his arms for the the last time

”what?” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of both hearts breaking. you try to reach out again but he slowly pulls away. forcing himself to get away from you, from this mess, from everything. all he wanted was a breather

your tears are now fully rolling down your face as you continue to call out for him but to no avail, he does not turn back once. afraid that if he does, he would just come running back to you.

this time, wonbin chose himself. he always put you first ever since your fake relationship started. he had an internal debate with himself with the drawbacks of this entanglement.

wonbin knew what he was getting into but yet..

now all you can do is watch wonbin walk away from you and your life. your actions haunting you as you dwell in the fact that you did this to yourself. you caused this and now all you can do is watch your world crumble before you

between the lines ★ thank you

⤷ from what started as a simple arrangement to hide your feelings for a certain someone by getting into in a fake relationship soon turns into a tangled mess. in which some things are hard to tell when you can’t read between the lines

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★ notes .ᐟ probably my most favorite chapter... i wrote this a month ago even before btl was a thing it is now heh

★ taglist .ᐟ @callanton @annswwa @renjuneoo @pinkraindropsfell @lecheugo @ilovejungwonandhaechan @ahnneyong @haechansbbg @snowyseungs @sseastar-main @odxrilove @leeknowarchives @onlywonb @wonychu @leehanascent @jaeyunsb @au-ghosttype @revehosh @keilovr @kyusqult @dreamyyyz @ether-yeol @yangasm @qwonbani @starwonb1n @ffixtionista @daegale @scrumptiousloser @seunghancore @marksluvs @wonbinfiles @ohmykwonsoonyoung @reenfluffmarshmallow @bunni @artstaeh @yizhoutv @sie17136 @koeuh @07yujin @poollabug @vernonburger @dutifullyannoyingfox @000rpheus @wccycc @sunus-sun @highhjime @chweverni @toosspicy @heartlvrrss @s9nwoo @yoursyuno