#ill figure out an actual name after i finish fucking writing them all MEETING

[dance-to-mythoughts-blog]

Pro- Hero Todoroki x Black Fem! Secretary Reader

From Secretary to Pro Hero

Hey guys! Long time no see. Sorry. Haven't been in a writing mood as of recently. So here is something for our little icy hot friend. I went down a rabbit hole with our favorite icy hot bastard lol. I got this idea from a Todoroki imagine I read a while back about them hate fucking and this was the inspiration for it. When I find the story, Ill link it.

AGED UP CHARACTERS!

Warnings: D in P, degrading, cream pie, spiting, hardcore, backshots, mating press, dick sucking, choking, hate fucking, office sex

"Are those papers ready? Mr. Todoroki needs those ASAP for the meeting."

"Yes. They're on my desk. Grab them please"

"You cant get them? Mt. Todoroki needs them in his office ASAP" Carla, the secretary complained. Slightly rolling her eyes.

"Again, I'm working on finishing touches for the meeting that he is likely to request 5 minutes before the meeting. Please get that stack of papers of my desk and hand them to him. Advise him that his notes will be done in 2. Thank you, Carla. For actually doing your fucking job" Y/N said. Carla was upset and she rolled her eyes, huffing and puffing. Knowing her, she will more than likely exaggerate some shit. Sure, enough I get a phone call from the infamous Todoroki himself.

"Carla informed me that you were working on some last minute things. Why would u do that?"

"Because sir, you always do that? Every time you have a meeting, you decide that you want certain things to be in order, right? So, before your meetings, I prep your regular notes and then print out extra notes. Anything else? If not, I'll be there in 45 seconds goodbye" Y/N hung up the phone annoyed. Making her way to the room where the meeting was, she was in for a pleasant surprise. Hawks is your fav. hero and he is also here with Deku and Ground Zero. And nothing could've prepared you for how fine they were in person. Hawks was so damn fine. He stood tall at 6'3, with beautiful crimson wings that stood out like the sunset, golden eyes, and spiky golden blonde hair with red shades that complemented his pale yet toned skin. Showing several tattoos. Deku looked just as good. Scars covered all of Deku's body, spiky black and green hair, and big puppy dog green eyes. He had on a tank top and he had some black joggers on with a black tank and showed his back tattoos as well. Then there was the infamous Ground Zero. Spiky blonde hair, piercing beautiful Crimson eyes, tattoos, and a scar that comes from the left-side of his jawline to his left pectoral chest muscle. They all had earrings in both ears wearing street clothes because Todoroki's father called a quick meeting about a villain attack. They looked so fucking good that it hurts and had my pussy throbbing.

"Hello. Sorry to call you guys in on such a short notice, but we needed to discuss the villain attack that recently happened." Endeavor started.

"There has been a constant focus on attacks in the minority of Japan. We have to figure out a way to combat this. Otherwise, our minority citizens will not trust us to help keep them out of harms way."

You heard they just started and attempted to sneak in to not disrupt the meeting but that was unsuccessful. Forgetting that this meeting room had a squeaky door and you're black so you kind of can't go unnoticed until Endeavor called you out. Now all eyes are on you.

"Y/n, what is your opinion on the issue? We know you're a minority and we want to hear from your perspective of things. I know you were sitting out there listening to the briefing like you always do"

Well shit. Now all eyes are on you and this is your chance to make a name for yourself and actually be useful for once instead of just handling papers n shit all day.

"Well, I think the first thing is to figure out why they're targeting black people. Once you guys figure that out, then you can move forward with trying to make it up to your supporters. After all, you guys were sworn in to protect just like the police and y'all work with them correct?" All eyes were on you. Even the heterochromatic eyes from the infamous Todoroki were staring at you intrigued. You can't even lie, Todoroki looks good just like the other heroes. He had on a white T-shirt with some black joggers and some Nike slides. The shirt was tight enough to see his muscles.

"It would be crucial to make sure that you dont leave your black citizens out because they need you just like the other citizens do as well. Oh, Here are your notes on the matter and Carla gave you the papers from my desk. Does anyone need anything while I am here? Sorry to interrupt."

"Do you have a quirk?" Deku asked?

"What the fuck do you need to know if she has a quirk for nerd?" Ground Zero said.

"I agree" Todoroki mentioned. "What is the purpose of her quirk being known? If she has one."

"Well, I do have one. It's similar to telekinesis. When I just do it, my body produces a dark blue aurora around my body, and my eyes turn dark blue. I have Sai swords, a staff, and fans that I use similar to Mileena, Jade, and Kitana from Mortal Kombat. Idk how, but this blue aurora can also help heal the injured too."

After I explained my quirk, they got so off-topic that they kept staring at me. I left and heard them asking Todoroki how come he hired me as a secretary and not a sidekick. They finished their meeting, and I was in my office packing up. Today was only a half day, so we could wear casual clothes. The heroes were not in today because they had press, they were doing while we stayed behind to make sure they were not double booked and doing sectorial things. As usual, I was the last one to leave even tho it was a half day at the office. As I was gathering my things and cleaning up, I heard my door open and close. Who did I see to my surprise? Our favorite Icy hot bastard. Looking slightly annoyed.

"What the fuck was that?" he asked

"Have you ever heard of knocking? That's number 1. For 2, what the fuck you mean? Deku asked me a question and I answered it. Was I supposed to lie to the man?"

"Because now they voted to have you come for this mission. They found the hide-out and they think you'd be a good asset. Your quirk intrigued them for some reason. Did you do this to spite me?!"

"TO SPITE YOU? YOU THINK I WANNA GO ON THIS MISSION?! I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW ABOUT THIS UNTIL YOU SAID SOMETHING YOU CUNT. SO HOW IS THIS MY FAULT? But I guess it would be good to show you up in front of daddy's baby huh?" you asked as you knew you struck a nerve. We all know Todoroki is sensitive about his family and what he's gone thru. We all know his father is extremely overprotective after what happened.

"Yes Y/N. To spite me. you have been a pain in my ass ever since you have been hired. Fuck. The only reason you are still here is because you do good work and you make the place structured."

"So, your business would crumble to shit if I was not here basically huh?" as you walked around your desk to meet him halfway..

"Fuck no. This shit can stand on its own. Don't fucking play." he said meeting you halfway as well. Before you know it. he was towering over you. He smelled good. You can give him that. He was 6'2 towering over your small 5'2 frame. I guess the shirt that you wore made him stare because you could clearly see him staring at you in a way you'd never seen.

"Suck a fucking prick. I bet you are scared huh pussy. It's ok. We're going to do the mission and then we can find you a cat after. I think a kitten is the closest thing you would ever get to some pussy huh?" you said striking another nerve. You have to admit, he is a man and most men are sexy as fuck when they're angry. He looks so fucking goood but you will not fold. your pussy has a fucking heartbeat now and it's becoming louder and louder.

"The fuck you say to me!? Y/N don't fucking play with me." he took another step closer and was all in your grill. He scoffed "I bet you can't even handle this dick if it was thrown at you. just a crybaby who can't do shit." He stood over you grabbed your throat and kissed you. He finally kissed you. You kissed him back. The kiss turned hungry as you wrapped your arms around his neck and also, he put his hands on your waist and grabbed your ass. You were so taken back that you are making out with Pro-hero Todoroki in your fucking office, and he is about to fuck your brains out soon.

"You *kiss* are *kiss* a *Kiss* good *kiss* kisser. Shit." you giggled.

"Hmmm. Much more than that princess." He smacked your ass. "I knew you had a fat ass. Always teasing me with them tight ass skirts" as he grabbed your ass again, harsher this time to where you were on your tip toes and your pussy lips spread open a little. He kissed your jaw to your neck and started sucking on it. You ran your hands down to his pants and started rubbing the clear bulge in his joggers. He felt big, even though he was clothed. He bit your neck just a little.

"shit" you moaned out. "Feels good"

"What you want baby? Are you to be finger fucked in the office like a whore? hearing him talk dirty was a treat and a complete turn on.

"Yess baby" you moaned. "finger fuck me please."

"your wish is my command" he slid his long thick fingers in and out of your wet hole. Here you are, being Shoto's good little slut like he wants you to be. He finger fucked you so good.

"Uhh Shit babbbbbyyyy....I-I" you moaned in broken moans.

"You gone cum for daddy?" he said in your ear. " cum for daddy all over his fingers" after he said that, you came everywhere. His hand was soaked up to his forearm and the area on the desk was a mess.

"Fuck that was good. Let me suck it" you begged while panting for breath.

He chuckled a deep chuckle like you knew yo ass was in trouble.

"Another time baby. I wanna fuck you so bad. Can I fuck you Y/N?" he asked lustfully.

"Yes daddy." He slid right on in. He fit like a fucking glove. He slide all the way in and bottomed out.

"Please move" you said breathlessly.

"As you wish" and he started thrusting slowly. Letting you get adjusted to his dick. Now, you talked all that shit but you sure were wrong about how his dick looked. He was big. He was long and thick with a nice vein you could feel on the top of the shaft. His tip oozed with precum because you were so fucking sexy a moaning mess under him. He started to pick up the pace.

"Fuck you feel good To- Uhh" you moaned out.

"Fuck you tight. Shit. It's Shoto from here on got it?" He hit you with a hard thrust.

"Yes daddy. Sho you feel good baby." you whined. "keep this up imma cum"

"Already? Just getting started love." He had you in missionary on the desk. Ass hanging off the table while your legs were on his shoulders and he was drilling your shit.

"Fuck *thrust* you *thrust* feel *thrust* good." he panted. "Gonna make me bust in the pussy huh baby?"

"yes cum in me," you whined desperately. "Fuck Sho I'm Cumming, Fuck!" you screamed out.

"Shi baby. Almost there. Gonna fill that pretty pussy with my seed."

His thrusts got sloppier and sloppier and he finally came.

We stood there. Trying to catch our breathes quickly.

"I got to go get ready for this mission. We leave tomorrow. Do what you need to prep Y/N" he said as he gave you a kiss. "When we get back, we can go on a proper date. Would you like that?" he asked? As he grabbed your waist and pulled you close to him for another kiss.

"I'd love to go on a date with Pro-hero Shoto." you kissed him back. "See you tomorrow solider" you winked.

"Sure will." he winked. Smacked your ass one last time and kissed you before he left. "We leave tomorrow night. Meet me here around 8:30 pm. "

After he left, you went to get ready for your mission tomorrow. Hoping that everyone remains safe. Especially him.

AN:

Here you go, everyone. Sorry I haven't been on in a min. Got the urge to write and went for it. I think I might make a part 2 as a follow-up on this. Let me know if I should.

[uk07]

Some days i firget nvau isnt canon and that i needd and acyual name for it fuck red tags do it read them yeah see my pain

[alrightberries]

“may i?”

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff & angst.  ❈ word count: 8k

❈ summary: you’re the medic assigned to take care of captain levi as he heals from the explosion. you’re also the only person he tolerates.

alternatively: in which you create prosthetics for humanity’s most war torn soldier.

❈ trigger warnings: manga spoliers. profanity. mentions of violence, blood, gore, and death. mentions of sexual themes.

a/n: levi’s kinda ooc bc i couldn’t write the progress of his relationship with reader without making it longer than it already is. also this is medically inaccurate (re: healing time of broken bones and amputations) for the sake of the plot so pls no one throw hands. 

Levi doesn't like looking at mirrors.

There was no tragic backstory behind his distaste for the reflective surface, no deeper meaning or hidden symbolism as one would expect from a man with his past. The reason behind it was simple: he just saw no reason to.

He wasn't vain, wasn't too concerned about his face, didn't care much to look at his physical appearance aside from when he had to cut his hair or get ready for the day to look presentable to his comrades. He knew he was attractive, and effortlessly so. The little letters and gifts he’d received from fans and admirers proved as much, and his title of “Humanity’s Strongest” only added to the appeal. Really, there was no reason for him to always be looking into a mirror.

But now... Levi simply couldn’t understand why that mindset had vanished. It was replaced with the fervor to always be staring at his own reflection— not out of vanity but out of disgust.

The disgust of staring at his mutilated face.

He warily lifts up the small mirror he held in his hand, features contorting into a grimace at the man staring back at him. Scars and cuts littered his cheeks— some deeper than others, but none as terrible as the long jagged scar that ran down the right side of his face. It started from his forehead and ended at his bottom lip, held together by ugly black stitches the medics had hurriedly sewn on him the second he got back to the base. His right eye was split in half, completely useless, completely blind; held together by the same black stitches that donned the ugliest scar of all.

And Levi couldn’t help but think that this man was hideous.

He was hideous.

Levi reaches out with his right hand to touch his scars out of habit. He feels his heart tighten when he realizes there’s only air where his fingers should be and he nearly breaks the small mirror he held in his good hand from how hard he was squeezing it. 

The mirror makes a gentle clink as he sets it down onto the mahogany of his desk. Bitterly, he stares at his three fingered right hand. His pointer and middle finger were gone, nothing but pathetic stumps protruding from his knuckles where they used to be. It was still covered in bandages and a makeshift brace so he wouldn’t strain himself when he moved, but he knew it was useless. He couldn’t move those stumps even if he tried.

He probably should’ve been thankful to have made it out of that explosion alive— not unscathed, but alive nonetheless. Though Hange had tried cheering him up (“Look on the bright side, we can wear matching eyepatches now!”) he simply couldn’t find it in himself to celebrate coming back so... useless. 

His writing was as legible as chicken scratches. His right eye spasmed in pain every time he blinked. He couldn’t even try to relearn how to use the ODM gear with his new circumstance, and he mentally curses out his orders to stay put and heal.

Too many things were lost, too many people, too many lives.

All because of that damned explosion.

All because of that damned bearded bastard.

Levi is pulled from his thoughts when three soft knocks reverberate throughout his otherwise quiet office, and he rushes to put his eyepatch on and hide the mirror in his desk drawer. He attempts to sit in what he hopes was a seemingly ‘professional’ position but his stiffness gives away his discomfort. 

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

He feels himself release a breath he didn’t even know he was holding once he hears the voice. Your voice. 

“Come in.”

The wooden door creaks open before it closes with a soft click, floorboards making minuscule sounds at the weight as you make your way to his desk. Levi pretends to look busy as his good eye scans the document he held in his hand. 

The sound of porcelain clinking against porcelain grabs his attention.

“Brought you tea.” You murmured. “I figured it won’t be up to your standards again but I did try my best.”

Levi still doesn’t look up as you set the tray down on his desk, and his good hand reaches for the steaming cup to take a small sip. His eye twitches at the taste.

“If you were going to bring me shit tea anyway then why bother.”

He hears a gentle chuckle but doesn’t see the way you smile at his contradictory words and actions. He made no move to throw the “shit tea” away, something he was infamous for with teas that didn’t meet his standards. Instead, he keeps sipping, gently placing the cup down onto his table once he finished.

“I thought that maybe distracting you with terrible tea would keep your mind off me changing your bandages.” You explained, and Levi nods but doesn’t speak. When silence once again filled the room, interrupted only by the occasional crumple of documents you knew he wasn’t reading, you take it as your cue to pick up your pen and clipboard to start the checkup.

“Have you felt any discomfort or pain in any of your extremities such as your right eye or your right hand?”

“No.”

“Have you felt any throbbing or other sensations in any part of your body?”

“No.”

“Have you experienced any fevers, headaches, dizziness, or sudden spasms in any part of your body?”

“No.”

He hears you set your clipboard down and his skin tingles from your doubtful stare. He didn’t have to look to know it was there. He risks a glimpse at the papers attached to the wooden board in your hands but just as he expected, you didn’t write down any of his answers.

“Have you lied to any or all of the questions I’ve asked during your routine checkup for today?”

“...yes.”

A soft sigh escape through your nose and your eyebrows furrow in disappointment. “Captain, lying to your medic won’t get you to the battlefield faster. You’re of no use to anyone when you’re injured.”

Levi clicks his tongue at your reply but he holds his smart ass comments back. He knew you were right, and it infuriated him so much.

“Fine,” he grits out. “My right eye’s been twitching all day. The fucking stumps on my right hand don’t feel like stumps. It feels like I still have fingers there, and I know it’s complete bullshit since they were lying next to my face when they got blown off.”

His angry glance finally lands on you. “That the answer you were looking for, oh medic of mine?”

It was now your turn to click your tongue. “Not quite,” you mumble, writing down his answers onto the file in your hands. “Feeling your missing limbs even after they’re amputated is normal. It’s called phantom touch.”

You place the clipboard back onto his desk and reach into your pockets, pulling out pristine white gloves before gingerly putting them on.

“Your right eye still spasming though, that’s concerning.” You add. Your hands slowly reach out to his face, and Levi momentarily flinches away out of habit. But you made no move to touch him.

He eyes you warily, tense muscles relaxing even just the slightest as he sees your gentle stare.

“May I?” You ask softly, a caring smile on your face.

Levi only nods, not trusting his words, and he once again tenses up as he feels your hands unbuckle the leather straps of his eyepatch before setting it down onto his table. He keeps his bad eye shut.

Your hands are gentle as you touch his face, touch nothing but a soft caress in such a way that his tender stitches felt no pain. Your eyes are focused on his stitches, lacking any judgement or ill will, and Levi’s suddenly aware of how close you actually were to his face.

Your eyes were beautiful, he noticed. They always were. The little furrow in your eyebrows as you concentrated was cute, and the soft caress of your hands on his cheeks as you inspected his face felt... nice, and dare he even say relaxing. Momentarily, when he finally lets himself adjust to the atmosphere, he lets his tense muscles ease.

“Can you open your right eye, Levi?”

“Y-yeah.”

FUCK.

What the fuck.

Did he just fucking stutter?

Levi’s surprise is only painted on his face for a few mere seconds before he schools his expression back to one of stoicness and neutrality, and he prays to all the existing gods he knew of that you wouldn’t notice.

He risks another glance at you. One of your eyebrows is arched and the corner of your lip is quirked up in a small smirk, but you dared not comment on the captain’s speech mishap.

Fuck. So you did notice.

Before he could try to save face by dishing out some bullshit reprimand of being disrespectful for calling him by his name and not his title, the words die on his tongue as you lean in impossibly close and oh god your noses were almost touching, your eyes are even more beautiful up close, and what the fuck is—

“Captain,” you repeat. “Can you open your right eye please?”

Oh, right.

He doesn’t speak as he does what he was told. He feels his eye open but no vision comes to his senses. 

“It’s looking... not so good.” He hears you mumble, face contorted into one of concern. “It’s actually looking pretty bad.”

Levi scoffs. “Not one to beat around the bush, are you.”

You roll your eyes, the small smile once again returning to your lips.

“How long have you been keeping the eyepatch on?” You ask. Your hands are holding his head in place now, grasp a little more firm but not enough to hurt.

“An hour at most.”

“Are you lying again?”

He sighs. “Yes.”

You nod but made no further comment, leaning back to grab the clipboard once more to write down your observations. 

“So,” you start. “Are you going to tell me the truth or do I have to poke your bad eye?”

Levi’s lips turn into a frown at the notion. “I’ve kept it on the entire day. And I know you’re probably lying about poking my eye, but in case you’re not, no. I do not want you poking my eye.”

You nod your head again, writing more things down onto your little clipboard.

“You should let it breathe. Keep it on for an hour or two at most but take it off when you sleep. Too much friction with the eyepatch might cause irritation.”

As the consultation draws on, Levi tries (keyword: tries) to be as honest as he could. Not that he could be dishonest when you were so good at snooping out his lies, though. You were already used to his stubbornness.

He wasn’t lying, however, when he tells himself that his heartbeat did not speed up when your hands gently held his own as you changed his bandages and cleaned his amputation; he wasn’t lying when he tells himself that the tips of his ears were not burning a bright red, cheeks flushed as you asked him to take off his shirt; and he definitely wasn’t lying when he tells himself that his dick did not twitch in his pants when your hands caressed his abdomen and back, accidentally hitting sweet spots he didn’t even know existed, to inspect his still purple bruises and healing ribs.

Yeah, he definitely was not lying.

“Okay, I think we’re done for today.” You say cheerfully. “I’ll be back same time tomorrow for another checkup.”

He glances up as he finishes buttoning the last buttons on his shirt. The gloves from your hands are taken off and tucked back into your pockets, and you hand him a small vial full of pills.

“Take one of these, twice a day at most, whenever you feel pain in your right eye.”

“I’m not feeling any—“

“Sure you’re not.” You cut him off with a smile. “I believe you. But feel free to contact me for any pain or discomfort you feel at any time of the day. I’ll be more than glad to find you.”

Levi says nothing, opting to instead stare at you as you gather the now empty teacup and kettle, placing them back onto the tray along with your clipboard and pen.

“Oh, by the way.” You speak, walking towards the door and opening it. You don’t spare him another glance as you finish your sentence. “I don’t think I can prescribe any pills to lessen blood flow to your dick.”

The door shuts with a soft click behind you, and Levi’s momentarily mortified as he processes your words. He risks yet another glance, this time down to his lap.

Shit, he thinks before he sighs. His hands readjust the hard-on in his pants.

Nothing goes past your observant eyes.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Levi doesn’t bother to look busy like he did last week, you noticed, because this time he was actually busy. Which was odd considering he was taken off paperwork duty until he could write again.

“What’re you up to?” You ask, setting the tray down onto his desk and pouring him a cup of tea. Your eyes curiously glance at the papers scattered about his usually clean desk, each filled with indiscernible writings of his name.

“Trying to write. I’m useless until I can.” He mumbles before he scoffs. “This would be easier if I had all my fingers.”

You nod along to his replies yet made no move to stop him. You picked up your pen and clipboard to write things down as well.

“You’re not supposed to be using your right hand, your amputation is still too tender.”

“Tch, what do you expect me to do then?”

“Uh... use your non-injured, complete left hand?”

Levi blinks at your words, and he has half a mind to slap his forehead for being dumb and not thinking of that. Which he undoubtedly would’ve done had you not pushed the steaming cup of tea closer to his sitting form.

“Have some tea. You look like you’re about to pop a vein.”

Your smart remark is met with silence and a steely glare, and surprisingly, as Levi drank the tea you prepared, he notices it’s not downright terrible.

“Your brew’s better.” 

“Yeah. I finally took your advice of using a thermometer to get ‘the perfect temperature’ after you complained about my ‘shitty tea’ for the nth time that week.”

Levi hides his little smirk behind the teacup, silently reveling in his small triumph before setting it down. From the corner of his eye, he notices you eyeing something, and his heart drops as his gaze follows your own.

The mirror. He forgot to hide the mirror.

Discreetly (or as discreet as he could) he takes the mirror and shoves it back into his desk drawer. You had many questions, that much he knew, but he was thankful when you didn’t push it further.

“Shall we begin?” You ask instead.

“Yeah.”

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Levi’s been trying to write again, you surmised, as you glanced at his focused eyes and the tenseness of his shoulders. Scattered papers still littered his desk and he was still trying to write his name. This time though, you were relieved when you saw he was using his left hand.

“Finally took my advice?” You asked, pouring him a cup of tea.

“Regretting it.” He doesn’t look up from his task as he answers, something you noticed he always did. “It’s been three days since I took your advice and my handwriting’s shittier than it was then.”

You smile, hand reaching out to hold his incomplete one that was clenched into a fist on the desk. He immediately stops writing, opting to instead stare at your hand atop his before glancing up at you.

“What are you doing?”

“Making you relax. You might tear your stitches.”

He feels you give his hand a gentle squeeze, and the warmth of your hand is suddenly gone from his own. You reach for the cup of tea you prepared, and he wills his cheeks to not show his blush at the small gesture. You slide the teacup across the table.

“What makes you think holding my hand will make me relax?” He asks snarkily. He reaches for the tea with his good hand.

“Are you relaxed?”

Levi ponders the question in his mind, noticing how his muscles were no longer tense, his shoulders were now slumped down, and his eyebrows were no longer scrunched. He sips the tea.

“Your brew’s still shit.” He replies instead.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I came here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Your head peaks out from behind his door as you enter, closing it with your foot and making your way to his desk. You were no longer surprised when you saw him still writing and scribbling messily at his desk as he’s done for days now, and you discreetly eye the papers as you pour him his tea.

“You don’t have to keep bringing me tea.” He comments, still focused on writing.

“I know.” You reply. “But how am I going to perfect your brew if I don’t practice?”

Levi glances up, and he raises his eyebrow as he sees you sat on his table, a cheeky grin on your face. He makes no move to scold you for being so casual in his office and instead reaches out to take a sip of the tea. He notices your expectant eyes, the grin on your face widening as he nods in approval.

“Your tea’s not bad today.”

“Really?! You think it’s good?”

“I said not bad, I didn’t say it was good.”

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

The first thing you noticed as you entered Levi’s office was, of course, the scattered paper around his desk, face focused as he continued to practice his writing. The second thing you noticed was that he was no longer using his left hand.

“It’s barely been two weeks. Did you give up already?” You ask as you pour his tea.

“I write better with my right hand.” He simply replies, not even glancing up as you slide him the beverage. He uses his good hand to reach out for the cup, silently preparing his tongue for another unpleasant attack.

He takes a sip and his eyebrows shoot up from surprise. The tea was... delicious, absolutely delicious, and Levi couldn’t find anything to complain about. The temperature was right, it wasn’t too bitter but wasn’t too sweet, and the aroma was delectable. He takes a sip once more to double check if his taste buds were deceiving him, but the second sip was just as good as the last.

His suspicious eye makes contact with yours, a shit eating grin painted on your face as you eagerly awaited his feedback. The porcelain makes a sound as he sets it down.

“You bought this from the tea shop across the barracks. That’s cheating.”

“For fuck’s sake!”

Three soft knocks reverberate through the door to Levi’s office. The captain hastily hides the papers with your name scribbled on, shoving them inside his desk drawer. A shiny glint catches his eye before he could close the shelf and he pauses as he realizes it was his mirror. He hadn’t taken it out in a while. He was always too distracted with criticizing your piss poor tea to even think about his appearance.

“Name and business.” He calls out, still eyeing the shiny object.

“Hange Zoe. Y/N asked me to do your daily checkup.”

Levi's eyes widened, heartbeat stopping for a second as he heard Hange’s voice. Where were you?

“Come in.” He closes the drawer as the door opens and Hange walks in. 

Levi couldn’t help but notice that he was becoming uncomfortable the closer his friend got; skin prickling, hands sweating, his collar feeling a little too tight. Little by little getting more conscious of himself as Hange walked closer.

Was this what insecurity felt like?

He briefly wonders why he didn’t feel it with you, but his mind answers him with a simple fact: you were the only person who’s seen him mangled and bruised, and each time, you showed nothing but gentleness and care. Yet even with this knowledge, the notion that a person other than you would be doing his checkup today didn’t sit right with him.

He pushes his discomfort to the back of his mind, telling himself to remain objective. But it didn’t stop him from subconsciously adjusting his eyepatch and hiding his incomplete hand underneath the desk. He eyes the tray in Hange’s hands, spotting the kettle and teacup.

“I don’t want your shitty tea.”

Hange doesn’t look up as they pour him a cup, humming a tune Levi doesn’t recognize as they hand him the warm beverage.

“It’s not my shitty tea.” They reply. “It’s Y/N’s shitty tea. They made you a batch before they left for the mission.”

Levi’s good hand pauses for a brief second as he reaches for the cup, mind still processing the fact that Hange said Y/N and mission. You hadn’t mentioned anything to him, and since he wasn’t allowed paperwork duty until he could write legibly, he wasn’t aware of any missions.

“I see.” He takes a sip, and he immediately squints his eyes in doubt once his tongue caught taste of the flavor. “This isn’t Y/N’s tea.”

Hange looks up from the clipboard they were writing on, eyebrows are arched in curiosity. “What?”

“This isn’t Y/N’s tea. This is from the tea shop down the road.”

Hange’s confused face stays still for a few seconds, silently assessing whether Levi was being serious or not. A smile cracks on their face, turning into a grin as small chuckles left their lips, before finally turning into full blown laughter. The captain waits for the eccentric soldier to stop cackling and start explaining, but Hange’s answer only serves to confuse him more.

“Nice try, shorty. You crack me up.”

Levi ignores the remark about his height. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N owns the tea shop down the road. Made the recipe for the black tea you love so much, even.”

The captain’s good eye twitches, and if Hange notices, they don't comment. Levi takes a sip of the tea once more, a little more doubtful this time, before sighing in content as the drink makes its way down his throat.

“Why did Y/N go on the mission? I thought they were to be my caretaker until further notice.” He chooses to ask, placing the cup down and pretending to busy himself as he absentmindedly starts practicing his writing.

“Y/N is our topic medic, their skills are more valuable on the battlefield than in an office with you.” They reply, and the captain pretends that the truthfulness of the statement doesn’t sting the slightest.

“Besides,” Hange pulls out white gloves from their pockets, sliding the cloth over their hands to prepare for the checkup. “Y/N personally asked to be reassigned.”

Levi sputters and chokes on his tea at the sudden revelation, and he feels Hange’s hand patting his back as he tries to compose himself. You asked to be reassigned? But why?

“Why?” He manages to choke out before once more descending into a coughing fit. Hange silently hands him a napkin.

“They didn’t say.”

Perhaps you were done with his incessant criticizing of your tea making skills (if so, then why’d you keep brewing him a crappy batch? Clearly you could’ve made good tea whenever you wanted.) Perhaps you grew tired of watching over him everyday when you could’ve been attending to more injured soldiers in the medical wing or the battlefield. Or perhaps you felt a little cooped up in the office with him, hating that you were confined when you could’ve gone on missions to help the wounded.

Whatever your reason may be, Levi finally gets himself to stop coughing and wipes his mouth. Any questions he had, he would ask you. For now, he pushes his feelings to the back of his mind to ask a more important question.

“Why are you here and not on the expedition, Commander?”

Hange shrugs.

“I wanted to bond over eyepatches with you.”

Levi was trying, okay? He was really trying.

But god, the new caretaker assigned to him was nothing short of a complete and utter noob. His bandages were always either too loose or too tight, his touches every time he tried to inspect Levi’s scars were always an ironclad grip, and worst of all, his tea was pure and utter shit.

“Watch it!” Levi barks, and his caretaker jumps about two feet away from him at his yell. “What’re you trying to do?! Are you inspecting my broken ribs or trying to give me a broken rib?”

Oh, that too. His caretaker was the hands on type, something Levi wouldn’t have minded if not for the fact that his caretaker was also heavy-handed, and Levi had had enough of this bullshit.

“Stop it, just stop. Get out of my office, right now, and find me a new caretaker.”

“B-but, Captain, there’s no one else who can—“

His caretaker is cut off when he makes eye contact with the enraged captain. Levi’s eyebrows were knitted together in anger, and the glare on his left eye was nothing short of terrifying. The fact that he only had one good eye left did nothing to lessen the intimidation of his glare; if anything, it made it even more intimidating.

“I will not repeat my order. Go.”

The boy in front of him nods nervously, head bowed down and metaphorical tail tucked between his legs as he quickly scurries out of the room. Once Levi hears the soft click of the door shutting, he takes a deep breath and lets his body slump into his chair.

That was the fifth caretaker he’d kicked out this month. He wasn’t picky, he tells himself; he just had standards. Standards that apparently these damned amateurs they kept sending him couldn’t meet.

Briefly, his conscience contradicts him; the image of a certain top medic popping in his mind, one that he hadn’t spoken to in almost a month since they dropped him out of the blue. Maybe, just maybe, he was being picky. With a dash of passive aggressive and a sprinkle of butthurt. But Levi quickly brushes that thought aside when he remembers the incompetence of all his recent caretakers.

That was definitely it. He wasn’t petty, all his caretakers were simply idiots.

The captain hears three loud knocks on his wooden door, and he grits his teeth as he mentally prepares himself for whatever fuckery the clown caretaker they assigned to him was about to do this time. True to his words, Levi did end up breaking a rib from how heavy handed the last one was, and though he knew it was partially because his body was still quite fragile, it didn’t hurt his request for a new medic.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here to do your daily checkup.”

Levi feels his eyes widen and heart speed up, and he once again rushes to hide all the papers scribbled with your name as he shoves them into his desk drawer. He composes himself, trying to appear uninterested and professional as he speaks.

“Come in.”

The door squeaks open and Levi doesn’t bother to hide the way his eyes soften and his shoulders slump in relief as he sees the familiar sight of you. A soft smile dawned on your face as you gently kicked the door close, walking towards his desk and setting down the tray you held in your hands.

“Heard you fired everybody who came after me.” You mused, eyes teasing as you poured him a cup of tea. He didn’t think he’d miss someone pouring him a cup of tea as much as he did now.

“Their tea was shit.” He replies, taking a sip of the warm beverage and holding back his sputter at the god awful taste. “Yours is too.”

You chuckle, picking up the clipboard and pen to start writing for today’s checkup. “Can’t help that I suck at brewing tea.”

“You don’t have to keep making me shit tea anymore. The secret’s out.”

You freeze in your spot, eyes widening for a fraction of a second before you nervously clear your throat. Levi definitely noticed.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I know you own the tea shop, Y/N. Stop lying.”

You let out an irritated sigh. “Hange told you, didn’t they?”

“Yep.” He replies, popping the ‘p’.

I’m going to fucking kill Hange, you think to yourself, silently gathering your composure once more. Levi watches you intently, continuing to sip on the terrible tea before deciding that he’d assaulted his taste buds enough and placing it down.

“Why’d you do it?” You hear him ask. “And don’t lie to me. You’re not the only one who’s gotten better at spotting lies.”

Why’d you brew shitty him tea? Is he that affected by it?

Your reply was already on the tip of your tongue, head glancing up from your clipboard to say your answer. But your words don’t come out and your mind suddenly cleared when you saw the look in his eye.

Levi’s eyes were nothing short of gorgeous; a beautiful gunmetal gray with a gaze deadly enough to kill a man with one mere look. But right now, even though they were schooled into his usual look of disinterest, you could see him... wavering. A mix of unanswered questions, curiosity, and— for the briefest second you swore you saw— hurt.

“I take it you’re not asking me why I brewed you crappy tea for the past three months?”

Levi clicks his tongue in irritation. “No, you idiot. I’m asking you why you left out of the blue. If you had a problem you could’ve brought it up with me—“

“No!” You quickly interrupt. “No, god no, you’re perfect.”

The captain’s eyes widen, and you suddenly realize the words you’d spoken as you quickly try to explain before Levi could interject.

“There was no problem, okay? I didn’t request to be reassigned because I had a problem. It’s quite the opposite, actually.” You murmur.

He eyes you curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“I think I have a solution. May I?” You gesture, asking if you could sit on his desk. Levi nods, not understanding why you needed permission now when you’ve done it of your own volition countless times before, but he suddenly understands when you sit directly in front him and not across from him like you usually would.

He watches as you pull a small brown box from your jacket, placing it down onto his desk before opening it. Levi is quiet as he eyes the item inside.

“It’s just a prototype for now. I was hoping to carve out a better one in my free time, one that would be a custom fit, but my free time kinda went flying out the window when you started firing people left and right until no one would accept you but me.”

You pick up the wooden prosthetic fingers and gently place them onto his desk. Your hand opens palm up, waiting for Levi to be comfortable enough to lend his hand to you, and he does so silently.

“The prosthetic’s made from redwood and the joints are connected by small metal rods. It’s light and durable, and I weatherproofed it so it wouldn’t break down so easily when you use them.” You explain, unwrapping the bandages around his hand. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out the concept, actually. I just took a pair of standard issue Survey Corps gloves and cut out all the fingers. Then, y’know, attached the wooden fingers to where the pointer and middle should be.”

Levi could only nod. You weren’t sure if his silence was good or bad and you couldn’t read his look. But Levi— Levi was speechless. In his mind, he dared not speak in fear of looking like a fool. Especially not in front of the person who gave back a piece of himself (quite literally, at that.)

He tenderly looks at the way you fitted the prosthetics onto his own hand, fastening brown leather straps around his wrists to secure the glove. The minute the glove is on and he sees all five fingers for the first time since the explosion, he feels like he’s about to cry.

“I had Hange help me with the anatomy so you could still bend them as you would normal fingers. I couldn’t figure out how to make them move on their own though, so you’d have to manually do that yourself.”

To demonstrate, you bend one of the prosthetics, the wood imitating the bend of his finger but not springing back up despite his brain commanding it to do so. You watch intently as he fumbles around with his hand, moving the fingers about. The wonder and astonishment in his usually unimpressed eye didn’t go unnoticed by you, and it spurred  you to continue on.

“Unfortunately, it’s not strong enough to flick the switches on ODM gear. You still have to relearn how to hold your blades when you’re cleared for training again.” You say regrettably. “But it’s strong enough to hold a pen.”

Your hand reaches for the forgotten quill across his desk, dipping it in the inkwell before offering it to him with a small smile. Levi slowly takes it, still speechless, as he readjusts his prosthetic to hold the quill and write.

His writing is still shit, undoubtedly; still no better than chicken scratches as he messily writes down the words. But god, the sight of the indiscernible handwriting next to five fingers brought tears to his eyes as he finally finished writing his name. The slightly legible letters of ‘Levi Ackerman’ stared back at him.

Levi couldn’t hold it back anymore. He immediately set the quill down before standing up to engross you in a warm embrace. You tense in his arms, not used to Levi willingly initiating any form of physical touch at all. But as he tucks his head into the curve of your neck and his shoulders start shaking, splotches of wet dripping onto your collarbones, you feel your arms encircle his waist, bringing him closer as you whisper sweet nothings into his ear and let him cry in peace.

Your hands ran through his scalp, willing him to calm down. Though normally the sight of a crying Captain Levi was something you never thought you’d see, you couldn’t help but feel honored he chose to share this rare moment of vulnerability with you.

You let him cry, still holding onto him, giving him his time. Briefly, you wonder what he was thinking. What pushed him to tears? Did the captain ever let himself mourn his losses? Does he mourn his friends, his family, the little pieces of himself that he’d lost along the way?

Though you had a million questions in your mind you dared not pry as you continued to comfort the weeping man in front of you.

Finally, after a few moments of nothing but silent sniffles and your sweet words, Levi finds it in himself to finally speak.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Night had fallen around the base, encasing the world in darkness that beckons slumber. Levi continued to stay awake, still in his office, staring at the prosthetic you had given him hours before.

Curiously, he feels himself form his right hand into a fist, not surprised that the two wooden fingers didn’t comply like the rest. It was imperfect and he himself thought it could use some tiny adjustments for the sake of comfort— something he definitely would bring up to you as requested.

And yet, despite knowing his ‘fingers’ were nothing but wood, leather and metal, he couldn’t help but think it was the best thing he could ever ask for. 

Silently, under the lone glowing light of his oil lamp, Levi pulls out a blank sheet of paper and begins to turn his feelings into thoughts, thoughts into words, and words into sentences as his quill meets the white surface.

Hours later, he finds himself in front of your quarters, a candle in his left hand while his right held a pristine white envelope. The envelope containing unsaid words, unspoken wishes, and hidden feelings.

Your eyes are sleepy when you answer the door, half lidded and hair a mess when his knocks had woken you from your slumber. You rub your eye, adjusting to the light as you stare at the person in front of you.

“Captain?” You ask, stifling a yawn. “What’re you doing here so late?”

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he opts to look at you with an unreadable expression as he asks, “Can I come in?”

You stare at him for a few seconds more, and the thought of you slamming the door on his face crossed Levi’s mind; but that didn’t happen. Rather, you nodded and ushered him inside your bedroom, closing the door behind him as you once again flopped onto your bed. 

He places the candle down on your bedside table and now he was unsure what to do. He had a plan— or, he thought he had a plan— but awkwardly standing in your room in the middle of the night wasn’t part of it.

Quietly, you chuckle at the sight of Humanity’s Strongest looking so odd and out of place, unsure and slightly panicked. You pat the spot next to you, inviting him to sit, and he complies.

Both of you had your knees pulled up to your chests and you were thankful when you noticed Levi had taken his shoes off before sitting on the bed. A comfortable silence encompasses the atmosphere in the dimly lit room. Shoulders touching, heads not daring to turn because of the close proximity. 

From the corner of your eye, Levi looked like he was deep in thought. Not the kind you saw plenty of times in the battlefield or in strategy meetings, not the kind you saw when you entered his office as he hastily tried to hide his mirror. But the kind you saw when he quietly suffered through his own living hell. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask, finally breaking the silence. He shakes his head. 

“Well, what brings the mighty Captain Levi to my humble little room?”

“Levi.” 

“What?”

“Call me Levi.” He murmurs, downcast staring intently at the envelope on his lap. “In this room, I’m not your captain. I’m not your patient. I’m not Humanity’s Strongest.”

You feel your eyebrows scrunch as surprise and curiosity paint your face, but not because of the captain’s offer to call him so casually. No— the surprise you showed was because he unclasped the prosthetic you made, not even sparing it a second glance as he carelessly threw it to you, and you barely managed to catch the limbs you’d spent countless hours and sleepless nights to create.

“Levi, what are you—“

“But I’m not a broken teacup for you to fix either.” He says, eyeing the stumps on right hand. “I’m not a doll who’s missing some parts. I’m not a charity case accepting donations.”

You were looking at him now, head turned in his direction as he unclasps his eyepatch and lets it fall onto his lap. He raises his head, eyes making contact with yours.

“I’m just Levi.”

A few moments of silence pass but neither of you look away. The reason why the captain continued to stare wasn’t something you knew. But the reason why you never looked away was because of his eyes. 

Levi’s eyes were still as gorgeous as you remembered them to be. Though his right eye was a different shade from his left, a lighter and paler shade of gray; though it lacked the light and emotions his unharmed eye bore; though it had a jagged scar running through it from where he was hit, you couldn’t help but think that his eyes were still the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen.

Gingerly, you lift up your hand to touch the right side of his face where his battle wounds lie, the prosthetic forgotten as it falls somewhere in the sheets. He doesn’t flinch like he did the first few times you did it, when you reached for his face during checkups to inspect his scars. But it didn’t stop you from asking.

“May I?” 

Levi doesn’t answer. Instead, he brings your hand to rest on his cheek as his head leaned closer to your touch. His eyes closed momentarily, almost as if he were reveling in your warmth. But they opened once more, and you willed yourself not to get lost in the sea of gray.

“You were never a charity case to me, Levi. Or any of the things you just said.”

“Then what am I to you?”

Your heart stops, eyes widening ever so slightly at his question. Would you tell him? No, you couldn’t. Not when—

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” His grip on your hand tightens a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to distract you from your thoughts. You realize the hand that held your own against his cheeks was his broken hand, his mutilated hand.

...would you really tell him?

You sigh, eyes finally leaving his. “You’re just another soldier who got hurt from a battle, asking a medic to take the pain away.”

Your hand slips out of his grip and goes back to your side, and you turn away from him once more. 

“Are you lying?” He asks.

“No.”

“Then look into my eyes and tell me what I am to you.”

“I can’t.”

Your voice cracks ever so slightly, hesitant but determined to stick to your words. And Levi knew that he was never going to get an answer. He sighs, shoulders slumping down in defeat. It was now his turn to look away from you, gaze falling to his lap. The envelope holding the letter crinkles and he’s reminded why he’s here.

“I know.” He whispers back. “But do me a favor.”

He doesn’t look your way as he hands you the letter. He doesn’t look your way when you silently took it, eyeing the red wax seal that bore his initials, fingers tracing over the edges before—

“Don’t open it yet. Open it tomorrow morning before you come in for my checkup.”

You only nodded in response. You reached out, placing the envelope on your bedside table before once again sitting next to Levi. Just as you had started, a comfortable silence blankets the atmosphere. Shoulders touching, heads not daring to turn because of the proximity.

But this time, it was he who breaks the silence.

“I don’t know what the future holds.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know what the future holds.” He repeats. “I could die in action tomorrow and be one of the bodies they wheel back from war, or you could die trying to save someone in the battlefield. Even if neither of us die tomorrow, there’s always a possibility that we’ll die the day after that. And the day after that and the day after that. Such are the risks of our jobs.”

He takes a deep breath. “But tonight, I don’t want to focus on tomorrow. I don’t want to focus on what the future holds. I don’t want to focus on titans or enemy troops or looking after my team.”

“Then what do you want?” 

“You.” 

Your eyes soften. “But what am I to you?”

You didn’t know what to expect, what his answer may be. But you know you didn’t expect it when Levi’s fingers gently grabbed your chin and coaxed your head to look in his direction. You didn’t expect it when you opened your eyes and met his, his warm palm resting on your cheek. And what you didn’t expect most was for his eyes to look at you with so much love, so much care and adoration. Gone were the facades of boredom and disinterest; the stoicness and detachment they always seemed to reflect. All there was left was softness, warmth, and what seemed to be the unmistakable swirls of vulnerability.

“You’re just another medic too busy putting other peoples’ lives before your own.”

“Are you lying?” 

“No.” He whispers. “But you make me want to plan for a future I know we won’t have— a future we can’t have.” 

And for the first time, you knew he meant it. You knew what he meant. 

In your line of work full of death and violence and risks almost too big to take. In what you once thought was your little world, turning out to be too big for you to handle. In your personal brand of hell where tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed, and loss was the only constant— it was enough. This small moment was enough.

“You have the most beautiful eyes.” You whispered, entranced. A soft chuckle leaves Levi’s lips, eyes turning into crescent moons so fitting of his gray orbs and your heart twitches at the sight and sound of his melodious laughter.

His thumb brushes over your cheek and your eyes meet his once again, the beautiful shades of gray staring you back. You didn’t know who did it first but at this point you didn’t care enough to find out because slowly, you both leaned in. Slowly, you both closed your eyes. And slowly, you both tilted your heads.

He pauses.

“May I?” Levi asks, lips merely inches away from yours. You nod.

“You may.”

And suddenly, the distance between your lips was no more.

There were no fireworks, no explosions in your heart or butterflies in your belly. There was no feeling of cloud nine, no feeling of want or need. There was only warmth in your chest, the feeling of a small fireplace crackling and glowing in the coldness of the night. The feeling of warm sheets and warm bodies cuddled up in an embrace.

Home. 

The feeling of home.

Because that’s what you were to Levi, and what Levi was to you.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your routine checkup.”

“Come in.”

As the door opens and you set the tray down on his desk, hands gently holding the kettle to pour him his cup of tea, you noticed that Levi was still trying to write. But what caught your attention wasn’t the fact that it was no longer his name he tried to scribble, opting to write down complete sentences. What caught your attention was that he was wearing his prosthetics, and his eyepatch wasn’t on.

“Did you read the letter?” He asks. His hands were still writing and his eyes were still staring at the papers in front of him. But you could tell he was anxious.

“Yes.” You simply reply, and he nods.

“Good.”

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[celestialrry]

nerves

4.8k

HELLLLO IM WRITING THIS INTRO AND POSTING THIS WHILE FALLING ASLEEP SO ILL POST ALL THE DETAILS ADN ADD THIS TO MU MASTERLIST LATER I LOVE TOU ALL THANK YOU FOR FOLOWING AND REBLOGGIN KISSES FOT YOU ALL (this is like right after release of hs1 harry I think hope you enjoy mwah)

summary: Actress!Y/N goes onto a talk show, and the host has a surprise for her.

warnings: cursing, kinda sorta an anxiety attack?

Y/N was nervous.

This would only be the 5th talk show she’s ever gone on alone after being in the spotlight for a few years when her acting career took off. She started off with indie films and soon made her way to the red carpet, working with esteemed actors and actress’s she could only ever dream of meeting. It was pure bliss.

Of course, fame came with other struggles like hate from the media and random people on twitter, but at the end of the day she was so grateful she had the opportunity to be in the business. She loved getting into a character, finding out what makes them click, and fully emerging herself in whatever film she’s in. At the moment, she was promoting her new film, and being the lead, she had gone on a few talk show’s by herself, but they never failed to make her sick to her stomach. Having no one to turn to when it gets awkward, even not having body heat by her side in front of a live audience and a professional host made her body rack with goosebumps.

“Miss L/N?” 

Her head turned towards the door of the dressing room she had been sitting in for 15 minutes alone, trying to get her nerves down. “Yes?’ She responded flashing a forced smile to the assistant standing in the door way. “They’re ready for you.” She nodded her head and stood up, brushing the non-existent dust off her long dress and tumbled a bit on her heels to follow the assistant that was already walking towards the side stage. 

They instructed her to wait until her name was called, then walk onto stage and take a seat and have the show progress. So Y/N stood there, biting her bottom lip that was coated with clear gloss and her arms crossed around her waist, her heel covered toe tapping the floor in anticipation. 

“Now welcome our very special, and gorgeous guest, Y/N L/N!” She heard Jimmy Kimmel announce and took a short breath before stepping through the automatically opening curtains. She smiled and waved at the people sitting in the audience, happy to see people supporting her, and greeted Jimmy before taking a seat on the loveseat closest to his desk.

“Y/N! Welcome, how are you feeling tonight?” He flashed a comforting smile at her. 

She chuckled a bit due to her inability to not laugh in uncomfortable situations. “I’ll be honest with you Jimmy,” She said, adjusting herself in the seat. “M’ pretty nervous.”

“Nervous?” He asked. “Now, why would 2 time Emmy Nominee Miss Y/N L/N be nervous?” Jimmy teased.

Her eyes fell to the floor and her cheeks heated up before looking back at him. “Because,” She dragged out. “It’s always nerve-racking being on live TV.”

He just nodded and made a joke about feeling the same even though he does this every week.

“How are you feeling tonight?” She asked.

He smiled before resting his arms on his desk. “I’m feeling good, I have a surprise for you later, but I’m supposed to ask the questions now, will you let me?”

“Of course I will.” She smiled back.

Y/N met Jimmy the first year she really became “famous” and he had always been her favorite late-night talk show host just because he was never invasive or creepy. Her standards for hosts were quite low at this point. They continued on, promoting her new movie and such before he settled back in his seat. 

“So.” He said.

“So.” She said back, raising a brow.

“I hate to ask you this, but I honestly am curious myself,” He began, and her anxiety creeped up just a bit. “Now, we dug through your old interviews, and it seems in every single one, when asked if you had a celebrity crush, your answer was Harry Styles?”

She simply nodded, her cheeks heating up again, and a small smile creeping onto her face at his name. 

“I see that smile, Y/N.” Jimmy said, and she let out a laugh, her smile now wide.

“So, do you mind telling us why you like him so much, or should I say love him so much?” His brow raised.

Y/N laughed a bit more, just at her nerves, and took a breath. “Um, he’s always been such an inspiration for me to actually chase my career, I mean I knew him from when he was on X-Factor to be honest. Binged that show all the time when I was in middle school and to see a boy just 2 years older than me just go straight into being in one of the biggest boy-bands in the world was insane. He’s just so passionate about what he does and I admire him for that. Uh- from what I can tell he’s just very charming, sweet, funny, caring, and…” She trailed off her rant, biting her bottom lip just a tad.

“And?”

“He’s incredibly attractive.” She finished a smile on her face as she glanced at the floor again.

“Understandable. I think he’s a good looking man myself, met him a few times and got flustered,” Jimmy jokes before looking at Y/N. “What if I told you he was the surprise I had for you?”

Her brows furrow as she looks at the man sitting across from her. “What? Do you mean like a video-” She feels a tap on her shoulder. 

Y/N turns around, still massively confused, and then she sees him.

Harry standing in a simple black suit and white button up, only a few of the buttons actually buttoned and her jaw drops. “Hello.” He says, smiling at her.

Her eyes are wide and she looks like a dear in headlights before her face falls into her hands, elbows resting on her knees, her breath erratic. “No, this isn’t- no. He’s not here.” She says into her hands and the crowd laughs. Everyone laughs. 

“M’a bit offended you think I’m not really here, love.” Harry grins, and she pulls her face out of her shaking hands to see him.

She opens her mouth to say something and nothing comes out. 

Harry Styles, her celebrity crush since the ripe age of 14, a crush thats lasted 8 years being 22 now, and she’s only seen him on screens her entire life. “Fuck.” Was all she can say. He laughs a bit at her starstruck appearance and turns to Jimmy. “She’s not normally like this, right?”

“Right.” The host jokes, looking back at the girl on the couch, and his smile diminishes a bit. Her eyes are watering and she’s trying to keep her composure but her bottom lip is trembling and Jimmy’s now worried he’s about to have a sobbing woman on live TV.

“You okay Y/N?” Jimmy asks and her head quickly turns to him and then back to Harry. “I-fuck, I’m sorry.” She tries to laugh it off. Tries not to think about how the man she’s loved even before she knew what love truly was, was standing in front of her right now. 

“Don’t be sorry.” Harry says, slightly frowning but trying to keep a happy face. He’s standing in front of a girl he’s adored ever since he watched her first movie, for Christs sake, and she’s silently about to break down in front of him, because of him. 

Before he can even properly introduce himself, she’s standing on her heels, wobbling a bit, and looking up at him. “Can I hug you?” She mouths, not wanting her question to be picked up on the mic on the back of her dress and before her mouth even closes he’s stepping towards her, big arms wrapping around her waist. Her arms find their way around his chest and her head is resting on his shoulder and her eyes are squeezed shut and she’s mouthing “Oh my fucking god. Oh my god.” Without realizing she’s facing the audience who laugh at her inability to not fangirl. His head dips as he hugs her, reveling in her touch, and then she’s pulling away, remembering they’re on live TV and she can give him a proper hug backstage after this is over when they don’t have to worry about appearances. 

She’s still reeling when his hands slide off her waist and he sticks his hand out and says “It’s so nice to meet you.” She takes his calloused hand in hers and says “Same to you.” Blinking away unshed tears.

“Shall we sit then?” He asks and she looks at Jimmy admiring the moment before back at Harry. “You’re staying?” She blurts out before shutting her mouth abruptly. 

“If you want me too.” He grins that grin she’s always been infatuated by and she nods, maybe too quickly. “Of course I do- yes,” She coughs. “Yeah, uh, please, let’s.”

They both plant themselves on the loveseat, Y/N taking the spot in which she was before and Harry sitting on the other end, keeping a distance between the two. She recomposes herself and sits up. Harry looks at her for a moment before looking back at Jimmy. 

“How are y’Jimmy?” He asks.

“I’m doing well, proud of myself for inviting you, you’re the one person I’ve seen make Y/N go absolutely speechless here,” Jimmy jokes and Y/N groans and smiles, leaning her top half on the arm of the chair, her face in her hands before sitting back up. “How about you, Harry?”

“M’doing well, was very excited to see Y/N here and I’d hopefully say it’s the same for her.” He smiles looking at her, dimples flashing.

“Yeah!” Her voice squeaks. “You’re right. It’s the same for me. I-” She cut’s herself off from saying she’s shitting her pants at the moment. Figuratively, of course, but it’s not very appropriate. She still can’t believe this. Twitter is going to have a field day talking about how flustered Y/N was at this moment.  

“Have something you want to say, Y/N? To Harry, more specifically?” Jimmy asks.

“Um,” She begins, locking eyes with Harry. “Did you hear, what I said, um, before you walked out here?” 

The green eyed man nods. 

Her hands start shaking again and she awkwardly laughs. “I’m sorry you heard that.” She apologizes. 

“Why are you apologizing?” Harry asks her, tilting his head and Y/N was going to pass out. “I’m glad you think all those things about me, plus, it’s a nice ego booster to hear that you think I’m ‘incredibly attractive’.” He chuckles a bit, but truthfully he was happy his celebrity crush feels the same way about him.

She just laughs back and mumbles a “Thanks.” Before Jimmy starts up a conversation about whatever was going on at the moment.

Jimmy and Harry start talking about something and Y/N nods her head and laughs when it’s appropriate but she couldn’t process anything. Her hands were interlocked, shaking in her lap, and all she could feel was Harry. Harry sitting next to her, Harry breathing next to her, Harry waving his hands around while he spoke in front of her. It was all too much. 

Suddenly his knee lightly knocked against her own. She abruptly turned to look at him, but he was still looking at Jimmy. So she assumed it was a mistake, until it happened again, and this time when her eyes looked to him, his met her’s and he gently and subtly moved closer to their thighs were touching. Y/N let the leg that was crossed over her other relax and fall to the couch, only her ankles crossed, and she swore she could hear his breath stop for a moment, but it was too quiet to be sure.

A few moments after they both had gained the courage to barely revel in each others touch, Jimmy was ending the show. Y/N doesn’t remember what she said or did before the camera cut off, she vaguely remembers waving to the audience but she’s not completely sure. 

And then it’s over- just like that.

“This was so fun Jimmy, thank you for inviting me on.” Harry said, standing up (reluctantly) and going to give Jimmy a hug. Y/N on the other hand was watching the interaction and it all hit her like a wave again. Harry fucking Styles was standing in front of her. The men both turn to her as she stands up and she gives a weak smile and mumbles “I forgot I needed to text my assistant, m’sorry I’ll be back.” before speed walking behind the curtain and booking it to her dressing room. She quickly flips the “Do Not Disturb” side of the sign on the door to show and closes the door behind her, her breathing accelerating. 

She barely makes it to the couch before bursting out in tears.

Y/N couldn’t really put a finger on whether or not they were tears of joy, sadness, embarrassment, or a combination of all 3. She’s pretty sure it’s the latter though. She slips her heels off and lies on the couch, her hands over her face with not so silent cries as she tries to calm herself. 

Meanwhile, both Harry and Jimmy sensed that Y/N wasn’t just going to text her assistant. “Do you think- do you think I said something maybe?” Harry quietly asks the late night host as they walk behind the curtain and into a quieter hallway backstage. Jimmy simply shakes his head before locking eyes with Harry. “Have you seen any of the videos where she talks about you, Harry?”

He shakes his head no and the older man pulls out his phone, doing a quick scroll of his email before finding video file and opening it. “A couple of interns here made this combination of all the times she talked about you in her interviews.”We were gonna play it as you were coming out but her manager said it would be too embarrassing.” Was the only preface Jimmy gave before clicking play.

Y/N stood in an elegant emerald colored gown just off the red carpet, all done up for her first big movie premiere. An interviewer stands in front of her, holding a mic that the woman was moving between herself and Y/N. “So Miss L/N, we need some juicy secrets from the “It-Girl” herself. Who’s your celebrity crush?” Y/N looks at the floor, a shy smile on her face as the quietly says “Harry Styles.” The interviewer’s eyes widen and she chuckles a bit. “I feel you honey, what do you like most about him?” Y/N purses her lips slightly before speaking again. “Um, everything? I think he has a really good heart.” The interviewer makes a joke about how she likes his eyes instead and Y/N laughs, but anyone could tell it was forced. 

The screen begins to play another clip. 

Y/N is sitting on a couch with her co-stars of a movie she did a year ago, dressed in a classy blush colored suit, and they’re all playing a game with some other talk show host. “Let’s see who knows Y/N the best now, shall we?” The host asks, and looks down at the cards in his hand. “Who is her celebrity crush?” And almost immediately all of her friends were jotting down their answers on a white board. “That was fast,” The host laughs, as does everyone else. “Okay everyone, flip it around.” ‘Harry Styles’ was written on every single board. “Oh my god.” She smiles wide out of embarrassment and puts her face in her hands. 

It reminds Harry of what she did when she first saw him.

“Y/N! Looks like you’re absolutely smitten with Harry Styles, aren’t you?” The host asks, and before she could even open her mouth, a co-star of hers was already speaking. “She’d play his songs in her trailer in the morning, full volume, and sing them as loud as she could. It was a good way to wake us all up.” He jokes, and everyone laughs at that. “Whenever he’d post a photo on instagram, or tweet something, I’d see tears in her eyes.” Another co-star speaks up. The audience laughs again and she looks to them. ‘I’m serious! Y/N absolutely adores him.” By this time Y/N’s face was out of her hands and she was sinking into the couch. “Are you embarrassed, Y/N/?” The host jokes “Of course not, well I didn’t want to get absolutely exposed, but I’m not embarrassed to be a fan, could never be embarrassed to be a fan of him, he’s… he’s amazing.”

The phone then fades into yet another clip.

This time, Y/N is sitting in a stool, doing the Wired Autocomplete Interview, and she tears off the second paper of the question, “Is Y/N L/N…” . “Is Y/N L/N,” she reads and the paper catches after the word “dating” is revealed. She looks up at the screen, a twinkle in her eyes as she shoots a close-mouthed smile at the camera. She turns back to the board and rips the paper off, struggling a bit and laughing, until it’s revealed. “Is Y/n L/N dating… Harry Styles”  She bursts out laughing, her free hand clutching her stomach.

Harry frowns a but at this, and he didn’t feel like thinking more about why.

 “Um,” She begins, “Sorry, I just- do I really talk about him, that much? S’a bit concerning.” She mumbles to herself. “Yeah, no, I’m not dating Harry Styles, he would never. Though, I like how people think it could be a possibility, thats quite funny. I’ll take the… hidden compliment, is that even the right phrase?”

The screen goes to another clip but Jimmy pauses it there and turns off his phone, turning to Harry. “You didn’t do anything Harry, it’s just you being here, she’s probably overwhelmed and-“

“Mr. Kimmel? Jones needs you.” Someone calls out to him down the hall and Jimmy slips his phone in this pocket and sighs. “Sorry, gotta handle this, thank you, for coming.”

“It’s okay,” Harry assures him, “Thanks for having me.” And at that Jimmy rushes down the hall in search of Jones, and Harry stands in the same spot

Harry knows how much he means to his fans, he’s seen them sob at concerts, break down at meet and greets, and when they tell him how much they love him when they run into him on the street. He knows this. But this felt different, for some reason. Maybe it was the burning feeling in his chest when she laughed off how he would never be with her, for what particular reason he has no clue (or just doesn’t want to address it), or how he couldn’t help but pop a dimple when he heard she loves his music. He wasn’t sure.

What he was sure of though, is that he needed to speak to her again, hug her for longer, actually get to know Y/N. So he walked into the main back room, walking down different halls until he came across the one that read “Dressing Room #4” and Y/N’s name scribbled in messy handwriting on the white board underneath. He knocked a little rhythm, and waited.

Y/N was still crying, to put it lightly. Maybe hyperventilating was the right word, because she was breathing quite fast, and there was a steady stream of tears flowing down her cheeks. She heard the knocks and attempted to calm herself down a bit, yelling out a “One second!” Before wiping under her eyes and walking to open the door. “Eliana,” She began, ready to wave her assistant way (not that she didn’t adore her, but Y/N needed to be alone before talking about everything), “Can you come back in like 15 minutes, I’m sorry I just need to-”

Her mouth closed when she saw Harry outside of her door, his small smile quickly fading into a frown as he took in her state. “Y/N I wanted to- are you okay?” He asked, stepping a bit closer, trying not to push any boundaries. When she didn’t respond and he saw her bottom lip quiver a bit, his chest clenched. “Can I come in? Can we talk?” He gently asked, eyes running over her puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, and disheveled appearance. 

She nodded and he walked in, and she gently shut the door behind him. He turned around to look at her and when his eyes met her’s, she couldn’t take it anymore. She let out a gut-wrenching sob and her face fell in her hands as she shook her head. “I-I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” She choked out and he stepped towards her, his hand coming to rest on her elbow. “Y/N, please, don’t apologize.” And without thinking he took the last step towards her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her firmly, one of his hands cradling the back of her head. Her hands fell from her face and she held him back, arms wrapping tightly around his torso yet again.

As she cried into his chest, he mumbled a soft, “Breathe for me, love.”, and she tried to get her breathing to match his own deep breathes. “I’m sorry,” Y/N says for the millionth time. “I told you to stop apologizing, Y/N, you haven’t done anything wrong.” He frowns to himself, that burning feeling in his chest again. She reluctantly pulls away, and his hands remain on her arms as her own come up to wipe the tears flowing out of her eyes. 

“You didn’t sign up to be here and have to deal with a crying fan, Harry.” Y/N sighs, finally looking up at him. 

“Hey, I came because I wanted to see you, I’ve seen your movies and I think everything you’re absolutely incredible at what you do, and when Jimmy called asking if I could come to surprise you I jumped at the chance to finally meet you. I know what I signed up for.” He says, his thumbs rubbing the skin of her arms gently.

At his words she let out another sob, her shaking hands coming up to cover her face for a moment yet again. Harry’s eyes widened, he was telling the honest truth, and he didn’t think he said anything wrong. Y/N however, was seeing in person, how king he truly was, and it was just another reality check that the Harry she’s loved for so long really is the same in real life; it was too much to handle. “Thank you,” She sniffles, looking up at him again, meeting his piercing green eyes. “I just, I’ve adored you for years, still do, and I never thought I’d meet you, even after I started getting ‘known’, I always thought you were like, too perfect to be real, and now you’re here and you’re real, and y’know when you meet a celebrity who seems so sweet in interviews and all that but they turn out to be an absolute prick? It’s not like that, you’re the same person I’ve loved over a screen, I- you’ve been my inspiration for fucking years and I don’t know. It’s just a lot.” 

Now her hands were on his arms and they stood there for a moment, just looking at each other.

“M’not perfect, Y/N.” Harry says softly. Y/n chuckles a bit, glancing to the side before meeting his eyes yet again. “I know, I know the ‘nobody’s perfect’ crap, but if you’re insistent on it, then I think you’re the closest thing there is to perfect, Harry.”

His cheeks turn pink at her confession, and a small smile weaves its way onto his face. “Thank you,” He finally says, before bringing her into another hug, this time her arms wrapped around his neck, and he bends down a bit to hold her tighter. “For everything you said, seriously, you’ve got no idea how much it means t’me.” He admits, still reveling in her touch. She slowly pulls away, noting in her head that he never seems to be the one to let go first. “Of course, wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” She smiles weakly, still drained from all the emotions flowing through her. He just smiles at that, before his hand drags down her arm and he hold her hand, wordlessly pulling her over to sit on the couch. 

He doesn’t let go of her hand as they sit quite close facing each other. “Do y’wanna hear a secret? It might make you feel better.” He suggests, cursing himself for being willing to do anything to see her smile fully. “I wish I could lie and say that it’s something I wouldn’t know, but I think I know a bit too much about you.” She says, letting out a small laugh, and he does too. “I promise you don’t know this.” He mumbles.

“Okay, go for it.” She says, holding his hand a bit tighter. 

“Well, after you bolted here, Jimmy showed me a few of your interviews, and I wanted to tell you that you’re my celebrity crush too.”

Her jaw drops and her eyes widen, a face that looks eerily similar to when she saw him for the first time just an hour prior. “You saw my interviews?” She gasps, her voice cracking at the embarrassment of him seeing her shamelessly confessing her love for him about a million times. It was safe to say she didn’t hear the rest of his confession.

“That’s what you’re focusing on here?” Harry laughs and raises a brow at Y/N.

“What else is there to focus on,” She groans, taking her hand out of his and burying her face into her hands yet again. “I can’t believe Jimmy showed you that, I’m never coming on this show again.” 

Harry grins, a dimple popping as he gently wraps his arms around her wrists, pulling her hands off her face. “Did y’hear what I said after that?” He asks softly, his eyes bring into her own. She shakes her head “no” in response and he takes a quick breath before telling her yet again. 

“I said, you’re my celebrity crush too. I’ve watched everything you’ve been in and I think y’are absolutely amazing, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t think you’re beautiful, inside and out.”

Y/N’s jaw drops for the thousandth time that night. 

 “You’re fucking with me.” She deadpans, her face blank and mind swimming with emotions.

He frowns and squeezes her hands. “M’not, swear to you.”

She shakes her head in denial. There’s no way she was Harry Style’s celebrity crush. Not in a million years would she ever think those words would be spoken, much less even thought of.

“You don’t believe me?” Harry asks, his head tilting a bit to the side.

“I believe tha you’re just too nice and you feel bad for me, so that’s why you’re telling me this.” Y/N admits to him, a sad smile on her face.

“Really?” He asks, letting go of her hands and bringing one of his own to his pocket. 

“Really. I appreciate it, I do, but you don’t have to try and make me feel less humiliated, I think we’ve already passed the point of no return.” Y/N says, laughing a bit.

“Mmm, okay,” He smirks. “Well that just won’t do. May I have your number?” 

She raises a brow as he pushes his phone into her hands, already pulled up on a new contact. She types in her number and “#1 fan” in the name and hand the phone back to him. Harry laughs when he sees the contact name and saves it to his phone, then putting it back in his pocket. 

“What was that?” 

“What was what?” Harry muses, a teasing glint in his eye.

She purses her lips. “Why did you just ask for my number?”

“So I can contact you of course,” Harry smiles. “How else am I supposed to set up another date with you?”

“Another?” Y/N questions, her lips turning up.

“’m a gentleman of course, would never ask you out on a first date over the phone,” Harry calmly explains. “So would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner tomorrow night?”

Y/n hesitates, unsure if this was still an ask out of pity. “You can meet me at my house, of course if you’re comfortable, and I’ll order us takeout to eat on my porch.” He continues, getting more exciting as he imagines how the date would go. 

“What makes you think I’d say yes?” She teases and his mouth gapes. 

“Oh fuck off.”

[allthingskakashi]

• Bells and Balls •

[ Kakashi x Reader ]

Tags : NSFW, Smut

Words : 4.8k

A/n: I wrote over 4k words just to get some dick.

Okay sbsbajash idk I'd been working on this for like a whole week and i couldn't concentrate on anything unless i finished this lmao so here it is whatever, I can't drag this around anymore. Uhhh hope you like it I'm still not very good at writing smut im sorry. This takes place in the post Anbu and pre team 7 era and Kakashi’s a bit of an asshole but you know you still love him. This is also a little similar to my other fic ‘Yearning’ but here you get the s e x and i’m sorry if the characterization is bad, i put more focus on making it hot i guess ok ill shut up now i hope you like it

You give the sheet of paper in your hand one final glance, and look around the room. There’s a long line behind you and you’re surrounded by your fellow jounins, each here to submit their respective lists.

You were extremely happy with the performance of your team and didn’t have to think twice before passing them. You had no doubt that they would make wonderful shinobi. You looked forward to teaching and guiding them, and judging by the chatter around you, most other jounins had passed their teams too.

The trouble, however, remains with Kakashi Hatake.

A few weeks ago, you had all been named squad leaders and put in charge of a squad, and today was your very first day with your assigned teams. As instructed, each of you conducted a test for the genin and depending upon whether they passed or failed, the final list would be announced.

No one till date had ever passed Kakashi Hatake's infamous test, and everyone was sure that no one would this year either. Most genin trembled in fear of him, being aware of his strict methods.

And as it happens, at this moment, this infamous man is right in front you, standing with his back hunched forward as he hands his paper in to the woman behind the desk.

You wait for your turn, your eyes fixating on the red symbol on his vest as you wonder, ruefully, about the fate of the students he must have failed this time.

You take a step forward as he turns around, having submitted his paper, and the line moves up behind you.

Kakashi peeks briefly at your paper as he passes, letting out an audible scoff at the list in your hand before walking on ahead, hands tucked in his pockets.

You’re momentarily confused by this sudden act, but something is already starting to boil up inside you. You aren’t exactly known for being placid, nor for sitting by and allowing people to give you crap. Your eyebrows furrow as you hastily thrust your sheet onto the desk, before making your way to follow after him.

“Do you have a problem?” you call to his back as a few heads turn towards you.

He stops, taking his time turning back to look at you, half lidded eyes looking as indifferent as always.

His demeanour pushes you further to the edge and you take a few steps closer, craning your neck to meet his eyes, waiting for an answer.

“Well?”

He peers down at you unfazed, completely oblivious to the audience around you, as if they are not even there.

“You’re too soft”, he shrugs. “You don’t know how the shinobi world works” he says bluntly, piercing you with his unwavering gaze.

You glare back at him, your mouth twitching with the sled of retorts forming at the back of your tongue.

“Who gave you the right to—"

But he’s already turning away from you, your eyes meeting with the red symbol of his vest once again.

“Hey don’t you fucking walk away from me!” you yell, going forward to stop him, but he saunters on ahead without turning back; his scent lingering in the air as you stand there, watching his figure disappear slowly along the hallway, your fury seething inside you.

Who the fuck does he think he is?

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

 “Thank you! This is just what I needed.” you chime, digging into the hot bowl of ramen in front of you, your mouth salivating just at the look of it.

You take a big mouthful, revelling in the immediate burst of flavours on your tongue.

“Mmmm.” You moan, “You’ve outdone yourself, Ayame!”

The young girl smiles at you in delight, proceeding to serve you another helping.

You take another blissful bite, closing your eyes to relish the moment.

The streets are quiet around you except for the faint chirp of crickets, as is expected at this hour of the night. It must be past midnight by now, you’re not exactly sure.

You had been tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep. For some reason, the encounter with Kakashi from earlier today had you feeling bitter and edgy. You hated that he was in your head, you didn’t understand why. It wasn’t like you to be this bothered by some mindless comments from someone. You’d had altercations before, worse ones, but they were never enough to steal away your night’s sleep.

And yet, this time…

You had to do something to take the edge off, ideally punch him in the face, but since that was not the plausible choice, you settled for the next best thing. Going for a run and treating yourself to your favourite comfort food later.  

So here you are now, out at night all by yourself. The Ichiraku shop was still open, bless the lords.

You slurp some of the soup from the bowl and let out a loud smack of your lips.

You can feel your spirits lifting, and you’re glad for it. He wasn’t in your head after all, you were just having a bad day, that’s all.

You shift your focus back to the bowl in front of you, moaning and slurping as you go.

“Whoa there, Get a room.”

The sudden interruption of the familiar voice makes you stop cold.

Are you fucking kidding me?

You look up from your bowl, turning your head around to see none other than Kakashi Hatake, standing smug in all his glory.

The strange pang of bitterness is back in the depths of your stomach and you resist the urge to punch that smug look off his face.

“Ah, if it isn’t Kakashi Hatake, the all-knowing wisenheimer.” you say, your tone snide. “Say, don’t you have somewhere else to be? Some genin to fail?”

He comes around to take a seat on the stool beside you, a smirk evident through his mask, almost as if he’s enjoying this.

“I’ve already failed them” he smiles sweetly at you. “Worked up quite an appetite too.” He says, looking away from you to place his order.

You notice as Ayame notes his order down, the distinct shade of pink that tinges her cheeks as does, before turning away and disappearing into the supplies room at the back of the shop.

Ugh. What is with this guy? Why is it so….

You don’t realise you’re staring at him until he looks back at you, raising a questioning eyebrow. You supress your startlement at being caught, pretending as if you’d meant to be glaring at him.

“What the hell are you even doing out here so late?” you spurt, trying to sound irritated but it comes out sounding almost…concerned?

Thankfully, he doesn’t notice. “I could ask you the same.”

You look away, unwilling to answer. You were out here to get him out of your head, and now here you are, sitting beside him in a ramen shop while the entire village sleeps.

It almost feels like you’re the only two people in the world. The feeling makes something churn inside your stomach.

You dab your mouth with your napkin, before swivelling on the stool to face him. You look at him intently, studying his features. He stares back at you, as if waiting for you to say something.

“Why?” you ask, catching him off guard with it.

“Why what?”

“Why does no one pass your test? What’s so difficult about it?” you ask, gaze fixated on him. You expect him to look uncomfortable but he just shrugs.

“Why do you want to know?”

“I’m curious” you reply truthfully, watching him smirk at your answer.  

You hate it when he smirks, how his face looks when he’s being cocky.

Ugh.

He swivels in his chair now, turning his body towards you. “Is that so?”, he says through the smirk, resting his elbow on the counter and leaning in.

You don’t know why, but something about his tone and the way he leans in makes it difficult for you to breathe all of a sudden.

But you’re not one to be fazed.

“Yes” you reply, refusing to let yourself crumple under his gaze. Your voice comes out sounding hoarse, and you clear your throat.

He smirks wider at your reply and stretches the next words out.

“If you’re so curious…Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

Your heart thuds like clapper clanging against a bell. You resist the urge to gulp.

Was it this hot when I left the house?

You clear your throat again. “I don’t have the time to take part in your stupid games”

The smirk is adamant on his lips, his gaze unnerving.

He breathes, “Do you not have the time…or do you not have the balls?”

His tone is challenging. Or inviting. Or both, you’re not really sure, you’re not thinking straight anymore.

Your jacket is too hot against your skin, you writhe beneath the thick material.

Sliding off the stool, you walk slowly towards him, erasing the space in between you bit by bit with each step, until your bodies are a few inches away from touching. Your eyes bore into each other’s as if in silent battle. It’s your turn to smirk now.

“Training Grounds in 20 mins” you whisper. Despite the hitch in your breath, your voice is clear. “Don’t be late.”

You walk past him without breaking your gaze, brushing your shoulder against his arm as you walk by, perhaps a little harder than necessary, leaving Kakashi to stare after you.

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

You sit on the damp grass with your back against a tree, waiting. Your jacket lies in a puddle beside you.

You count the weapons in your bag, you hadn’t exactly come out prepared for a fight tonight. Two kunai knives, that’s all.

Would that be enough to take down the copy ninja? You hope so. There’s no way you’re letting him win. It’s time someone taught him a lesson and you would love to be that someone. The nerve of him…to actually challenge you.

He really needs to get a life. But then, here you are too…

Why am I here? What am I even doing?

You close your eyes and tilt your head back against the hard bark, your eyebrows furrowing the way they always do when you’re deep in thought.

Back at the shop… the way he spoke…the look in his eyes— God, Stop. Stop it.

Who the fuck cares about the look in his eyes?

Not me.

It’s okay. I’m good.

We’re here to teach this asshole a lesson. An asshole, that’s what he is. Insufferable and stupid and smug and ridiculously ho— horrible. Ridiculously horrible.

You take a deep breath, opening your eyes and standing up so fast that it makes your head dizzy for a brief second. You start walking around, jerking your arms and legs, stretching your neck, even slapping yourself a few times on the face to make yourself focus.

Yes, I need to focus. The lack of sleep is getting to me.

You crouch down to tighten your shoelaces, before getting up and starting some stretching exercises. Gotta loosen the muscles, make sure you have full flexibility. After all, taking on Kakashi Hatake all by yourself is probably not going to be a piece of cake.

You look down to check your attire: running shorts and a tank top, not fully ideal but it’ll do.

You’re bent over, in the midst of doing rotating toe touches when your eyes fall upon a silhouette far ahead, nearing closer and closer. You pause, standing up straight with your hands on your hips as the figure walks slowly towards you, a faint jingling noise ringing through the air, as Kakashi finally comes near enough for you to make out his face in the dim light.

“Late as always” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

Kakashi stands a few feet away from you, holding something in one hand, other hand inside his pocket. He’s not wearing his jacket anymore either, you observe.

“Sorry, had to go get this” he says, holding up what looks like two small bells with strings attached.

You squint at it, coming closer to get a better look. “What the hell is that?”

“Bells”, he smiles. “That’s the test. You have to get these bells from me. You can use any attack you want but… since you’re not a genin, I’ll raise the stakes a little higher for you. You cannot use ninjutsu or genjustu. It has to be purely physical attacks. You have till dawn.”

This little fucker. He knows taijutsu is not my strong point.

But fine. If that’s how he wants to play this, so be it. I’m taking him down one way or another.

“Dawn?” you chuckle, fixing him with your gaze. “I don’t need till dawn” you sneer, coming forward with a kick aimed to his head. He blocks it just as you’re about to make contact, grasping your ankle in his strong hold.

“I didn’t say start yet” he says through a smirk, letting go of your foot.

You take a few steps backwards, glowering at him as he ties the bells to a loop on his trousers. They hang over his thighs with a jingle, silver metal glimmering in the moonlight.

He looks back up at you, eyes twinkling with an unusual sparkle.

There’s that look again…

“Go” he commands, his body tensing up into a defensive stance immediately, ready for you.

You fix your gaze on the shiny metal of your goal and hurl yourself forward, your arms meeting each other’s in blows and defences. You throw a few kicks to his stomach, making him tumble but not enough to knock him out.

You shift your stance, before directing another punch to his face; he deflects it, sniggering.

Okay okay okay, I’m not focusing. I need to focus.

You take a deep breath.

Kakashi stands waiting, his features emanating pure amusement.

You feel a restlessness brewing within you, a strange energy buzzing through your veins. You’d been itching to punch him in the face and now’s your chance.

You watch him, mentally calculating all your options. His silver hair shines like moonbeams in the dark.

FOCUS.

Drawing a kunai from your bag, you lunge forward, distracting him with a kick to the head as your kunai slashes through the air, just about to cut across the strings when— your hand is caught in his grasp, a ‘slap!’ cutting through the air as his palm clasps around your wrist.

He bores into you, your wrist held firmly in his hand as he turns you around swiftly, gripping both your wrists at the back.

You feel the muscles of his chest against your body as he comes closer, the metal bells hanging over his leg brushing against your fingertips behind you.

You wriggle your hands, trying to break free but it’s in vain. His grip is firm, slender fingers digging into your skin as he leans into your ears, his warm breath tickling your skin.

“Not so fast” he whispers, his lips almost brushing the top of your ears.

The words send a shudder through your spine. You feel the black sky closing in on you, there’s a hum springing through your veins.

He loosens his grip as your hands fall, the kunai held limply in your hand. You turn around, your heart skipping a beat at how close he is to you. You feel your resolve weakening.

No.

No.

Stop.

Your hand flies to the collar of his shirt, the other hand holding the kunai to his throat as you push him backwards with your body, your eyes blazing into his.  

Keeping the kunai at his throat, you lower your other hand slowly, brushing it down his chest, his muscles taut under your hand. You trail your hand down along the line of his sternum, down the firmness of his stomach and further down, your fingers lightly caressing the bulge of his trousers before they almost make contact with the bells alongside, right there, just a flick away—

so close—

Before your wrist is caught in a sudden, fast clutch again.

His grip is much stronger this time, unyielding, hungry. Your bones ache beneath his hold.  

You watch something ignite in his eyes as his shoulders rise and fall in rhythm to your heaves. You suddenly realise how out of breath you are.

In the flash of a moment, Kakashi grips your kunai holding hand, holding it away from his throat as he pushes you, the weight of his body pressing onto yours as your feet scrape along the ground, stumbling backwards till your back slams against a tree, the force making your body jolt. The kunai slips from your hand.

His arms pin you defenceless against the tree, his gaze holding you hostage, burning through your skin.

The touch of his skin against yours feels alien. When was the last time you felt the warmth of someone’s skin? You cannot recall.

He’s so close to you, you cannot see anything beyond him.

In the dark, under the moonlight, the edges of his face look softened.

A wind passes by, the sound of rustling leaves filling through the silence. A volcano erupts within you.

Now.

You gulp. Up this close, you can make out the outline of his mouth.

Now.

Your lips press into Kakashi’s in a desperate lurch, your neck straining to meet him as far as his grip on you allows. Your heart explodes like firecrackers inside your chest as your tongue pushes against the cloth of his mask, demanding to be let in.

You feel his grip loosen around your wrists as the mask is off and he reciprocates, his lips on yours, his hand gripping your chin up as his tongue moves in fervent swirls inside your mouth.

A thousand questions swarm inside your head, buzzing but you’re not being controlled by your head anymore. You can feel the thud of his chest against your own.

He trails his hand down to your throat, holding you in place, other hand exploring every edge and curve of your body before it snakes down the waistband of your shorts, down the elastic of your underwear.

You gasp, arching your back as you feel the touch of his long fingers down there, moaning helplessly into his mouth as he rubs along your wet entrance in rapid strokes.

Your head is a dizzy mess of jumbled emotions as yearning overpowers your senses, your previous resolve weakening into a mushy puddle with every stroke and thrum of his fingers inside you.

He pulls away from your mouth to leave sloppy kisses down your neck, his tongue painting patterns along your skin as you catch a glimpse of his face and you see it— his face, glowing under the moonlight. And you realise.

He’s…beautiful.

An overwhelming ache breaks through your senses, creating a frenzied whirlwind of passion and agony in your mind. Your detestation for him crumbles into pieces underneath the weight of your desire, as you realise…

You don’t hate him.

You never did.

Not even close.

Not even a little bit.

Not even at all.

You pull his face up to meet your lips again, planting urgent kisses on his mouth as your hands tease the hem of his shirt. His fingers slip out of you and you can feel the wetness of your panties, soaked through with arousal.

“Kakashi…” you whisper in pleasure as he looms over you, your foreheads touching, out of breath and heaving with exhilaration. His eyes burn with the same passion that you feel inside.

“We can’t…shouldn’t…here…people...” you mutter in struggled breaths, as he plants another kiss to your lips, the sparks from it fogging your mind

“Since when do you care about people?” he whispers against your ear, his raspy voice enough to strip you off of all your remaining sense and judgement.

You pull his shirt over his head in one swift motion, throwing it to the ground beside as he follows, taking off your shirt and then unhooking your bra, tossing both away as his hands reach for you in hungry clutches.

His hands caress your breasts, pressing them and pulling on your hardened nipples, his mouth following soon after. His lips lock around them, sucking hard as you bury your face into his broad shoulders, biting lightly to keep yourself from screaming.

You sink your fingers into his hair, tugging softly as his mouth moves in a wet trail further down your body, strands of his hair tickling your stomach as he goes, his hands tugging your panties, sliding them down the curves of your hips.

Your heart thuds in your ears as Kakashi sits crouching in front of you, parting your legs. He looks up at you, as if asking for your permission, and you give it to him by pulling the back of his head closer between your legs.

He puts your right leg over his shoulder, spreading you for him, his other hand clutching the back of your left thigh as his mouth teases you down there.

The tip of his tongue flicks at your entrance, before it finds your weakest spot, and you feel your body shuddering, barely able to keep your balance.

You tug at his hair harder as his tongue moves skilfully inside you, fingers rubbing your swollen clit simultaneously. You feel every nerve ending in your body come alive as you moan out his name “K-Kakashi…” through trembling lips.

Your insides shudder and a deep moan forms at the back of your throat, threatening to escape as Kakashi puts his hand over your mouth, before pulling you down on top of him with a sudden tug.  

You come down with a thud on his thighs, your body jolting with the force as you watch him in front of you, the copy ninja… bare bodied and heaving in front of your eyes.

Who would have thought…

You straddle him, admiring his unclad torso, before pushing his shoulders down with your hands, making him lie back on the grass as you stoop over him. His eyes are fixated on you, pure pleasure making itself known on his face.

He really is beautiful.

You bend forward, your mouth exploring the smoothness of the skin on his chest, as a strange cold feeling down there distracts you.

You look down, squinting in the dark to find yourself sitting on two glimmering metal balls placed over his thigh.

The bells.

A thrill runs through your nerves as you smirk, glancing up at him.

He’s noticed it too.

His eyes return the same sparkle of mischief as yours as he lies still, waiting.

You press your hands down on his chest, locking your gaze with his as you position yourself over the bells, tilting your head back as you move back and forth over them.

The cold metal of the bells rubs against you, sending tremors through your entire body.

Your gaze at Kakashi again, watching him squirm at the sight of you, his hands twitching to feel your skin.

You keep your eyes on him as you slide down slightly on his thigh, tugging his trousers down as you go. Your hands find the base of his cock as you allow yourself to admire his throbbing length.

He leans his head back on the grass and you feel him getting harder in your hands.

Forming your hand into a fist around him, you move it up and down along his shaft in slow steady strokes, leaning down to bring your mouth closer to his tip, before swirling your tongue in circles around his skin.

His hips tremble as he clutches onto the grass, writhing.

Your lips clasp around his cock, mouth slurping up and down his length, taking your time sliding down to the base and back up, your hands following suit.

You tease him, switching between the tip of your tongue and your whole mouth, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him.

He quivers and you sit back up, bending forward over his face and pressing your lips on his. A groan from his mouth erupts inside yours as he clutches your hips.

His hands guide your hips back and forth over his length, your lips trembling as he slips into you, his cock finally inside you, pushing into you, filling you as deep as you can be filled.

A new rush of pleasure burns through your senses, your insides stretching as you move your hips around him, back and forth and then in circles.

“A-a-ah...mm…yeah…”, your muffled moans cut through the depths of the forest in the silence of the night.

Kakashi breathes your name, the eruption of your name from his lips enough to send you to a frenzy, filling your heart with drunken fervour.

You moan his name back in reply, hopping up and down on him as his arm snakes behind your waist and he flips you over in a sudden, swift movement, the weight of his body falling over you now.

You arch your back, pushing your hips up to meet his, unwilling to break away even for a second.

You want him so, so bad.

The pointy peaks of grass underneath poke your skin, your nails digging into his back as he nibbles on your neck, thrusting deep, deep into you.

You feel the familiar shudder from earlier again, your mind getting clouded with waves of pleasure coursing through you. Kakashi’s grunts quaver in your ear as you feel his hips jerk in tune to yours.

There’s a tantalizing jolt of ecstasy through your body as you scream out, your quivering voice matching his grunts as you both put a hand over the other’s mouth, your muffled moans melting into each other’s skin. He quivers inside you for a final time before you feel him slipping out of you, as hot wet cum trickles along the insides of your thighs, dripping into the dewy grass beneath.

Droplets of sweat from his hair drips down on you, tasting salty in your mouth. You heave together in exhaustion as he plops down on you, before rolling to the side.

You lie on your back panting, your entire body damp with sweat.

Languor threatens to take over you as you struggle to keep your eyes open, looking up into the night sky.

You see a firefly glowing above your head. You lift a lazy hand to reach it, but it flies away far above, becoming one with the twinkling stars in the sky.

Soft sounds of Kakashi’s breath echo beside you, his foot still touching yours lightly as the both of you lie heaving under the stars.

He turns his head to look at you and you can feel his eyes on you as you try, with all the fibres in your body, to not look back at him.

You know you won’t be able to hold yourself together any longer if you do.

He extends a hand towards you. “That was…”

“Sshhh… Shut up” you say in a slumberous whisper, moving closer into his arm, putting your own around him, your head buried into chest as you feel your eyes getting heavy…not able to stay awake anymore. You feel Kakashi envelope you in his arms, the warmth from his skin against the cold air lulling you to sleep, your mind becoming foggy as you close your eyes, slowly drifting off somewhere far, far away…

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

Your eyes open to the chirping of birds perched on the branches above, rays of morning light casting a rosy glow in the horizon.

You watch the half light in the distance, rubbing your eyes, smiling to yourself.

The night had taken with it the black clouds of denial fogging your mind, your heart is as clear as day now.

You turn your head just in time to see Kakashi opening his eyes, his eyes puffy, imprints of grass marking his soft cheek.

You smile at him as he looks at you, lips curled into a sleepy smile. “Good morning” he yawns, tapping over his mouth with his palm.

“I won.”

“Hmm?” he asks groggily, eyes still adjusting to the light.

You hold up the two small bells in front of him, they jingle over his face.

He chuckles. “I don’t think so. It’s past dawn”

“I took them off before. I won.”

He laughs again, his face lighting up in a way you’d never seen before. He looks even more beautiful in the daylight.

“In all fairness y/n, there are no losers here.”

You laugh along with him now, reaching across and smoothening the imprints on his cheek, keeping your hand there, cupping his cheek.

“So, I passed?” you ask, looking at him, inching closer.

He looks back at you, with the same look from earlier in his eyes.

But you’re not turning yourself blind to it anymore.

“Top of the class” he laughs, pulling you closer, nuzzling your nose with his before pressing his lips into yours.

Notes :-

Did I quote 10 Things I Hate About You on a Kakashi Smut?

Yes, yes i did.

[miracleonice87]

69 with Tyler

“So… what are your plans for New Year’s?” ✨with Tyler Seguin, our mutual love

quick note: I took this in a way different direction than I’d originally planned. I blame my withdrawals from hockey for my need to write about the actual game in a holiday piece. (remember when we had NHL hockey around the holidays? le sigh.) also Jamie and Katie are still together in this one, as they always are in my head, except when I’m writing about him as the MC. she’s my idol — sue me.

quick warnings: hockey injury involving blood, swearing

_____

No matter how many times it happened, you still felt ill each time. You’d never get used to seeing the love of your life get injured before your very eyes.

The same sensations of the blood draining from your face, your pulse becoming unsteady, bile rising in your throat. They happened every time.

The next thing you felt after the initial physical reaction was Meg Dowling’s hand gathering your hair at the nape of your neck, stroking it slowly in an attempt to soothe you from the seat behind yours. Katie, ever by your side during Stars games — your left side, per the request of both your boyfriends, after they found out that she had been on your left during most of their best games — immediately took your hand in hers. You swore that Andrea Bishop must have jumped across the bar between where she stood and the seats at the front of the suite where you were, as you felt her hands come to squeeze your shoulders, the only one speaking around you as she coached, “Baby, breathe. He’s okay. He’s gonna be okay.”

You finally found your voice when you saw Tyler move his shoulders after what felt like an eternity, though he was still splayed on the ice after a nasty late hit, with Jamie knelt beside him, Klinger hunched overtop. Rads, Esa, and Bish stood near the goal, wordless. The men at the bench all stood, waiting. Bones looked like he could either start screaming or pass out on the spot. The entire arena was hushed. 

“He’s moving,” you squeaked shakily, the women surrounding you in the suite breathing a collective sigh.

He was moving, yes, but even from high above the ice, you could still see that his eyes were squinted, his hips and legs moving slowly from side to side as he writhed in pain. Terrified, you watched the trainer carefully extricate the helmet from Tyler’s head, and nausea struck when you noticed a significant pool of blood pouring from... where? Where? Where was it coming from? His nose? Ear? Mouth?

“Oh, god, I’m gonna be sick,” you moaned then, pressing a clammy hand to your forehead. Andrea cooed, “Okay, okay. Put your head between your knees. Just breathe — in through your nose.”

Katie rubbed your back as you followed your other friend’s instructions, the girls exchanging frightened looks once your eyes were no longer focused on them, nor on the scene below.

Once you felt that the imminent wave of sickness had passed, you slowly sat up once more, breathing through pursed lips. Upon seeing that Tyler was still lying on his back, the white towel pressed to his face already stained with blood, you turned helplessly to Katie, knowing she would be able to tell what you were thinking.

“You wanna go?” she asked, arranging your hair behind your shoulder. You offered a slight nod. “Okay, let’s go,” she agreed, standing with you as Meg hung your crossbody from your arm.

Alandra Dickinson, your best friend within the group besides Katie, met you at the top of the suite stairs, pressed a kiss to your cheek, and forced a cold bottle of water into your hand.

“Drink that,” she ordered as she pointed to the beverage. “Small sips.” She then pulled you in for a tight, brief hug, and urged you along, Sarah Pavelski squeezing your trembling hand with a sympathetic expression as you reached the door of the box.

As you turned the corner and approached the private elevator, the mechanical doors opened to reveal John, your favorite arena security guard.

He gave you a tight-lipped smile, one that didn’t meet his joyful eyes the way it normally did, and he tilted his head to the side, inviting you to join him in the elevator.

“I figured I might meet you here. Come on,” he spoke. You sighed with a thankful half-smile and, with Katie right on your heels, stepped into the elevator.

“Just heard on my radio that they got him up,” John told you quietly when the doors shut. “Needed help, but no stretcher.”

You nodded silently, your hands gripping the water like a vice.

“This was supposed to be a fun game,” you finally said in a strangled murmur. “New Year’s Eve, hang in the box, all go out after.”

Katie placed a tender hand to your upper arm, covered with the denim jacket, yours embroidered with “Seguin 91,” that each of the WAGs had worn tonight to represent their significant other.

“I know, babe,” Katie concurred softly. “It sucks.”

You glanced at her anxiously as the doors opened to the tunnels. John led the way, the other security staff along the corridor nodding knowingly as you and Katie trailed behind him.

Finally, you reached the medical room, where John peeked into the window. One of the medical staff spotted him and nodded, so John opened the door a crack.

“I’ve got Mr. Seguin’s better half here,” John announced. You heard a worried “ah, fuck,” leave Tyler’s lips, which actually left you feeling relieved. “Think she could come in?” John asked. The team doctor, without taking his eyes from Tyler, encouraged, “Yep, send her in.”

You whispered a “thank you” to both Katie and John as you rushed past them into the room. The first thing you saw was Tyler’s arm outstretched from where he sat propped against the exam table, his back to you.

“I’m okay,” he insisted the moment he heard your footsteps. 

A choked exhale fell from your mouth, and you closed both your hands tightly around Tyler’s, careful not to jostle him as the doctor flashed a pen light at his eyes, testing his pupillary reaction, while an assistant held a fresh towel to the right side of his face. You noticed the first towel, now nearly soaked in red, lying on the counter, tossed aside. You shifted your eyes away from it and toward your boyfriend, who, despite his condition, currently had a smirk on his pink lips.

You couldn’t help but smile yourself. “What in god’s name are you smirking about, Seguin?” you asked incredulously.

“Were you sitting on Katie’s left side instead of right today?” Tyler asked hoarsely, the only brow that was visible quirking upward. “Just wondering if I have you to thank for this too or just Neal.”

You sighed, ghosting your hand along the bare skin of his forearm, and your eyes flickered to Katie, a smile slowly spreading across her face from where she stood in the doorway.

“Just Nealer, baby,” you informed him as you turned your attention back toward him, the doctor turning to prepare what looked like a suture kit. “Katie and I know better than to pull that shit.”

Tyler smiled, turning his head to face you as the medical assistant stepped away to help the doctor get prepped. Only then did you lay eyes on the enormous gash on Tyler’s upper cheek, dangerously close to his eye.

Tyler’s expression shifted as he watched you assessing the damage.

“What... is it bad?” he asked innocently.

“What tipped you off?” the assistant joked, glancing at the two of you briefly.

You tried to shake yourself out of it, but struggled to find your words.

“What, am I that ugly?” Tyler joked, attempting to lighten your mood. You opened your dry mouth, shaking your head.

“Uh, no, no,” you replied. “It’s just, um, it looks... um...”

“It’s big,” the doctor supplied as you trailed off. “It’s significant, Tyler. We’re gonna stitch you up, but we’re gonna have to bring in the optometrist to check you out before you leave. He should be here very soon. I don’t think it will affect your vision long-term, but we just want to be sure. And, to no one’s surprise, you do have a concussion as well.”

Tyler rested his head against the cushion behind him, rolling his eyes in annoyance. “Great,” he grumbled.

“Hey,” you warned. “None of that. You’re lucky it wasn’t any worse. It looked... it looked like it would be.”

As the doctor wheeled his stool back in front of the table, Tyler gave you a pained look. “I’m sorry I scared you, baby,” he told you softly, lifting your hand to his lips.

You shook your head, pushing back some of his chestnut brown curls from the unmarred side of his face to brush a kiss across his temple.

“Don’t be sorry,” you said. “Wasn’t your fault. It was that little shit James Neal.”

Chuckles erupted from everyone in the room, and the doctor shook his head in amusement as he approached Tyler with a syringe.

“Alright, 91,” he began as he uncapped the large needle, making you feel woozy all over again. “You know the drill. Gonna numb you now. This is gonna hurt.”

Tyler took a breath and you felt his grip on your hand tighten as the doctor inserted the needle. You focused on Tyler’s wincing eyes instead of the object being poked into his face. He hissed and swore, then, a grimace still on his face, quipped, “So... what’s everybody doing for New Year’s?”

You snickered sadly at his attempt to deflect, hanging your shaking head, and squeezed his hand a couple of times. He gave you his best smile.

“I’ll tell you what you’re not gonna be doing is going out gallivanting tonight,” the doctor told him as he finished the injection. “So it looks like your New Year’s plans just got a lot less exciting.”

Tyler scoffed. “C’mon, doc,” he tried to reason. “Do you see this girl standing beside me? She’s an absolute smokeshow, and I know she’s got some pretty dress picked out for tonight, and you’re telling me I can’t take her out?” he argued, motioning toward you dramatically.

You felt yourself blush, and the doctor threw you an understanding smirk.

“Unfortunately, Tyler, yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you,” he said. “You’ve still got a long season ahead of you, and if you want to recover quickly, you need to go home, lay low, and get as much rest as possible. Now, hold still.”

Tyler huffed as the doctor began suturing his cheek, and you cupped the near side of his neck soothingly. He shifted his eyes toward you and gave you an appreciative, if disappointed, smile.

“So much for those big, fancy New Year’s Eve plans with everyone,” he muttered as he laced his fingers with yours. “I’m sorry, love.”

“Whaddya mean?” you teased. “I’m gonna have a great New Year’s. My boyfriend and I are gonna have a nice, quiet, relaxing evening by the fire with the dogs. After he gets his face sewn back together.”

Tyler breathed a laugh, bringing your hand close to his chest. “Well, the fire part sounds like fun, at least.”

[cblgblog]

Imagine Mildolyn, "Illicit Affair", Modern AU. Where Gwen's campaigning for Congress and all the meet and greets, showing up for charities for publicity, her 'cause'. At one for special needs children and their foundation she meets a very young CNA named Mildred and sort of falls head over heels in the dumbest of ways, both just love struck. Except she's campaigning to be in Congress, she's a politician, she cannot be queer and chasing after 19 year old ex-foster kids whos brothers are set to be the youngest executed on Death Row in California in decades for appalling crimes. But there she is, in hotel rooms her supporters pay for, with someone she shouldn't be with, trying to find ways to overturn cases that turned stomachs with their brutality, because a pretty girl smiled at her and called her 'ma'am' while showing her around the foundation/care home she worked at with children no one else had the time/patience to care for. Of course it goes terribly with 'dirty little secret' vibes, the breast cancer diagnosis announced on twitter before she tells Mildred in person, even if it's such a minor case ('so they say') and caught so early that it'll barely leave a scar, radiation won't be much of a deal at all. She doesn't get to tell Mildred that, she just gets to hear on Fox news about how the democrat's gonna die a horrible death and panic.

Mildred who has no patience for politicians and their fake concern, using patients as photo ops. It’s manipulative, it’s distracting to the staff, it’s awful, okay, she hates it. She is, in fact, a tad bit rude to Gwen when they meet. Gets her a death glare from Betsy Bucket, gets Gwen intrigued.

“Republican?” only half-joking.

“No.”

“Is it the suit? Should I have worn a different suit? I wanted to, but I’ve been told this one tested better.”

“The suit is fine.” It’s more than that, actually, but Mildred will not be saying that aloud, nope, uh-uh. “I don’t much care for politicians.”

“Ah, we have that in common then.”

“I doubt we have much of anything in common. Ma’am.”

And look, Gwen doesn’t usually go in for the chasing, the hard to get. She’s got enough trouble chasing votes. But this woman is so good with the kids on her ward, so patient. She’s got Disney scrubs on and as much as she’s got no time at all for Gwen, she seems to have infinite amounts for those kids. She stays with them individually, longer than any of the other staff Gwen sees, but she still manages to get a dozen things done in half as many minutes. And she’s also gorgeous, there’s that.

And Gwen has no good reason to ask her out for lunch. Honestly, none. Nothing good can come from this. Mildred asks if the citizens of California will be paying for this meal and Gwen swears that isn’t the case, no, absolutely not. Even still, Gwen doesn’t expect Mildred to say yes. She doesn’t think Mildred expected Mildred to say yes.

But she does. Tells herself it’s for Edmund, maybe this’ll be the one politician who listens, who’s willing to look past the surface facts, willing to help. Except she gets there and they don’t talk about Edmund. It’s not because Mildred doesn’t know how to bring it up, she’s made her case dozens of times. She just…they don’t talk about him, and that feels like a betrayal, but Gwen’s kind and funny and fascinating (much to Mildred’s annoyance), and she just…doesn’t feel like getting into it.

Meanwhile Trevor, Gwen’s campaign manager/law school buddy/best friend/lavender marriage soulmate, if they were in a different time, is like bitch, what’re you doing? Yes, everyone knows you’re gay as hell, but you can’t be chasing girls right now, you can’t afford to be distracted. You especially can’t afford to look distracted. And you can’t be robbing the cradle while looking distracted.

“She’s not that young.”

“Uh-huh. She wears Winnie the Pooh clothes.”

“Scrubs, those are scrubs. Scrubs aren’t clothes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“She works in a children’s ward, Trevor.”

“Uh-huh. I really wish you wouldn’t do this, but since you care nothing about me and my mental state and all the hours and hours of hard work I’ve put in for you—”

“After badgering me into hiring you over someone more qualified.”

“Hey! More qualified. I resent that. Anyway, if you insist on ruining my day, at least wear that face cream I gave you. Should make you look less like you’re robbing the cradle.”

“Go to hell.”

“And don’t do the oyster thing. Not on a first date, in the middle of the campaign.”

“It’s not a date, it’s just lunch.”

“Uh-huh.”

Gwen doesn’t do the oyster thing. Not on the first date, which neither of them acknowledge as a date, for entirely different reasons. But then there’s a second and a third, and sex, lots of sex, and it’s harder to pass off as just friendly.

And yeah, the sneaking around that Gwen hates. That Mildred says she doesn’t mind, and she actually doesn’t seem to all that much, which Gwen finds slightly concerning. Mildred’s good with secrets though, she’s good with being kept a secret. Mostly. Which again, Gwen finds concerning.

There’s pillow talk and Mildred admitting more about herself than she has to anyone, ever. Which still isn’t nearly as much as what Gwen admits, but it’s a relative thing. And still, Mildred doesn’t talk about Edmund. Gwen finds that one out on her own, stumbles across some old photos, a scrapbook of Edmund’s crimes. Gwen’s briefly concerned that Mildred is one of those people who’re deeply attracted to serial killers, but the truth is…something else.

Mildred tells her things. Some of the deeper, darker stuff, but not much, not yet. Tells her how she’s written to everyone she can think of because he’s a boy, okay? He was in an impossible situation, they both were, no one ever helped them, so Edmund decided he had to die. No one helped them before, no one helps them now. There’s anger and tears and Gwen holding her and she can’t help asking why Mildred didn’t talk to her sooner, if she’s had no problem asking for help from strangers.

“Because you aren’t,” Mildred says in a way that makes it clear she’s figuring this stuff out as she says it. “A stranger, you aren’t. You never were and I couldn’t…I didn’t want to become one to you. I didn’t want you to look at me like that.”

“Oh Mildred…”

Mildred doesn’t actually ask her to help. She doesn’t want Gwen to think that’s what it’s all been about. It was supposed to be, but it isn’t. She doesn’t ask. Gwen digs into things herself, digs into this kid who was barely double-digits when he did these things. Made all the headlines at the time, but that was over a decade ago, he’s been locked up ever since. Most of Mildred’s money goes to him, one way or another.

Gwen hides it from Trevor—the murderer, not the sex, he knew about the sex before she ever said anything—for as log as she can. But he’s always been nosy, and now he has a paid excuse to be nosy, and he nearly has an aneurysm when he hears why it is that Gwen’s suddenly digging into this case instead of kissing the babies of gay couples, like she should be.

Gwen cannot do this. Nope, absolute no. She cannot be sneaking around with the younger sister of the kid they’ve made all the documentaries about. Doesn’t matter that she’s running on a platform of prison reform, especially as it pertains to juveniles, this is not the case to start with, especially when she hasn’t won yet.

And Gwen knows. She knows. She argues with Trevor about it until he decides they both need to stop because Gwen has a speaking engagement tomorrow and she can’t sound hoarse. There are many further arguments, arguments about principles over politics, but Gwen knows he’s right. She cannot, should not, be doing any of this, at least not yet. It’s dangerous, it’s selfish, Mildred deserves better than being someone’s secret again. Gwen should break it off, at least until the election. She’s not being fair to either of them like this. They should stop, at least for a few months.

Except it’s Mildred and she’s totally hijacked Gwen’s everything, and the thought of stopping makes her ill, and everything about this is terrifying, the most terrifying thing ever.

And then there’s the checkup and the routine mammogram. Gwen started those earlier than most because somebody’s aunt on somebody’s side of the family got sick, somebody’s cousin on the other side did too.

Scratch that, there’s a new winner for most terrifying thing ever.

It’s good, they say. She started early, they caught it early, this is good, they have treatments for this. Good, they say, while Gwen damn near passes out. She’s got a campaign to finish, she can see the Too Sick to Serve headlines already. A bald look would not test well, she’s sure it wouldn’t. She talks to Trevor about that, about the campaign, until he tells her to shut the fuck up, yanks her into a crushing hug. He cries, damn him, and that makes her cry.

She’s glad he’s there.

She wishes Mildred was.

She is also relieved as hell that Mildred isn’t, that they’re on opposite sides of the state right now. No point having Mildred see her like this, having her worry. She’s got enough to worry about, enough to hurt about.

Not that Gwen isn’t planning to tell her. She is. It’s only been a few whirlwind months, but Gwen knows enough to realize that a lie of omission would be a bad, bad, bad idea where Mildred’s concerned, regardless of intention. Gwen doesn’t think of hiding it anyway, not really. Mildred deserves better then that. When and how to tell the public…that’s a completely different clusterfuck of a situation, but Mildred, Gwen just wants to tell her in person. That way Mildred can see her face when she promises it’s no big deal (hopefully without seeing how terrified she actually is), and Gwen will have all the paperwork and things she knows Mildred will want to see, and they can hold each other, and it’s just, it’s not phone call news.

Except then it’s headline news, because somehow it’s leaked. Fox News is having a field day, certain corners of the Internet are already gleefully writing her obituary, and she’s missed literally hundreds of calls by the time she gets a look at her phone. At least half of those are from Mildred. Mildred who actually sounds hysterical for the first time since Gwen’s known her, that bastard on the news with the hair, he says you’re dying, why aren’t you answering, how long have you known, please, please pick up the phone, just pick up the phone god dammit.

She’s managed to keep Mildred a secret for months. This? This doesn’t last three days before it’s everywhere. Gwen does get an I love you for the first time ever, but seeing as Mildred’s sobbing over her voicemail when it happens, the joy is somewhat muted.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Work of Art (Diego Hargreeves x Reader, Kinktober

A/N: Rather than try and finish 2 more fics this week, as would be necessary to finish the original Kinktober list I posted, I played a little shuffle, and combined the two remaining ones, tossed some stuff, added new stuff. Because frankly I’m running out of steam[iness], though really, this is further than I ever expected to get on this project. Anyway...the final fic. Hope you enjoy. Word Count: 2440 Kinktober Prompts: bondage, knife-play, marking Rating: E(xplicit) Content Warnings: dom/sub (dom reader), bondage, knife-play, marking kink, pain kink, begging, teasing, praise kink, oral (both male and female receiving), biting, blood, overstimulation Cross-posted to AO3 here.

“Stop squirming so much,” you laughed, dropping the soft cotton rope to start over. “You’d think I was torturing you or something.”

“You’re sitting there, dressed like that, looking that gorgeous, and not letting me touch you,” Diego pointed out. “Find me the part that isn’t torture.”

You rolled your eyes, finally securing the last knot to keep Diego exactly where you wanted him, despite his continued wriggling.

“Unless you want actual torture, stop complaining.”

“Actual torture? You couldn’t if you tried.”

You raised a challenging eyebrow and smirked. He swallowed, instantly regretting his words. 

“Well then, you wouldn’t mind if I just…” you walked over to the bedroom door, pausing dramatically in the doorway to look back at him. “Left you there then?”

“Wait, no, Y/N,” he called after you, voice straining with ill-concealed desperation. “Please. I promise I’ll behave.”

You waited a few beats longer, until you heard his faint whine, pleading for you, before you returned to the bedroom, satisfied that he knew your threat was serious. When you returned, he gave you his best penitent expression, which was admittedly, just a little bit ruined by the way his eyes trailed hungrily over your figure in the lacy, nearly see-through negligee you wore when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

“I could do whatever I want to you like this,” you observe off-handedly, still standing near the end of the bed, studying his bound form. 

He wasn’t completely immobile, though you had originally tried to convince him to let you trap him in that way. But he was tied enough that he wouldn’t be going anywhere or able to pull his usual stunts to try to take control. And he looked so pretty: stretched out on the bed, hands bound above him with just enough slack to be able to twist and grab the thin wrought-iron rails supporting him, another thin set of ropes wrapped around his waist and secured to the underside of the bed. If you were being honest, it was a bit like the damsel tied to a railroad track in an old silent movie, but it was a look that worked for him, especially the way the blue ropes stood out against his skin. 

“And you’d like that wouldn’t you,” you purred, taking a few steps closer. “You like to act tough but really, you’re just craving to be used and controlled. Isn’t that right baby?”

His cock twitched at your words and you couldn’t help but smirk, enjoying the visual evidence of your effect on him. He nodded in answer to your question, even as he strained against his binds. You stopped, waiting expectantly for him to use his words. It had taken a long time to convince him to let his guard down and be vulnerable like this, and you wanted to be sure that he was both capable and willing to bring it to a stop if he needed to.

“Yes,” he finally panted. “Please, use me, do whatever you want to me. Please, Y/N.”

“You look so good like this, like a work of art. What would you do if I decided I wanted to just sit here,” you plopped yourself down on a stool in the corner and folded one leg over your knee, leaning forward so you could still see his face. “And admire the art?”

He shook his head. “No, please, please touch me, hurt me, fuck me. Do anything, just please, do something.”

“You’re so right.” You stood again, sauntering to the edge of the bed and staring down into his face, gently running your nails down the side of his face, swiping them across his lips, drawing back harshly enough that they caught when he tried to suck a thumb into his mouth.

“My pretty boy.” He shivered bodily, as much as the ropes would allow, at your words, throwing his head back against the pillow.

“Do you like that? Being called pretty or being called mine.”

His face flushed and you repressed a giggle.

“Both,” he admitted shyly. 

“Do you want me to keep doing it?”

“Please?”

“Of course, my pretty boy, all mine, all laid out and gorgeous for me.” A dangerous glint crossed your eyes as he tried to buck upward, a bead of pre-cum welling from your words alone. 

“Maybe, I should make sure everyone knows that you’re mine. Make it clear that they can look,” you ran your fingertips down his sternum, “but they can’t touch. Would you like that?”

You suspected that by the end of the night, he would grow tired of your prompting. And yet, if he paid attention, he would see that through this, he had more control than he ever did otherwise. 

“Yes, Y/N. Claim me.” There was a hint of frustration and desperation in his voice, and you decided not to push him any further before giving in. 

Slowly, making sure his eyes were trained on you the whole time, not that he had dared to look away for a second so far, you straddled him, just above where the ropes crossed his mid-section, moving at a pace that made tectonic plates look like speedboats. 

Settling comfortably, you leaned down, pressing your body against his, only the gauzy layer of your dress separating you. You let your breath ghost over him, teasing at the sensitive spots behind his ear and beneath his jaw. And then, sure that he wouldn’t be expecting it, you dipped your head lower and bit down harshly on the soft spot where throat met clavicle. Diego cried out, thrashing under you but unable to move, and just as importantly, not seeming like he was actually trying to get away from you. You felt the slightest hint of blood welling up and laved your tongue over the spot, soothing the worst of the sting but maintaining enough pressure to draw the blood toward the surface, ensuring a heavy, dark spot would be left behind.

“Mm,” you purred, pulling back to look at his face once more, the blissed out look on his face sending a jolt to your core. “You mark up so well for me Diego, but I don’t know if that little spot’s going to be enough.”

He gulped nervously. “Will you leave another?”

“I had a better idea, if you trust me…” you forced him to meet your gaze. 

“Absolutely.” It was the firmest his voice had been since you began. 

Hesitantly, you reached over to the nightstand, picking up one of the tiny precision blades that he used sometimes, though never in this way obviously. Palming it, you held it up for him to see. His eyes widened. 

“I promise, I won’t hurt you, not really,” you explained, dropping any act or pretense. “Lightest touch only. Just enough to leave a mark that will heal over without a trace. Or I can put this away. It’s up to you.”

His eyes flickered back and forth from the knife to your face. 

“Do it,” he said, voice gruff with desire. The muscles of your cunt clenched and fluttered at the sound, but you tried to ignore the feelings and focus on him. “...please?”

You kissed him passionately, trying to pour into it all of the thousand feelings coursing through you: how badly you wanted him, how much you loved him, how grateful you were that he trusted you like this. 

You rocked backwards, letting your ass brush teasingly against his straining erection as you inspected your canvas.

“Now, my pretty boy,” you taunted, “where shall I make my mark. There are so many options…”

You trailed the flat of the little blade along the column of his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob, dangerously close to the point. You traced outward, first over one side of his collarbone and then the other and then down over the taut muscles of his chest. He hissed as you turned the blade so that the needle-sharp point was against his flesh as you traced circles around his nipples with just enough pressure to create a sting. Finally, you stopped, poised just above his heart.

“Shall I write my name right here?” you asked, “label your heart and lay my claim to it.”

“It’s yours,” he countered, “already yours.”

“Well then, let’s make it official.” 

You turned the blade again so that the full edge was pressed his exposed skin, biting your lip as you watched the little specks of red well up in the shape of your initials, tracing over them once, twice, thrice. He moaned louder with each pass, high and needy and threatening to overwhelm you, but he held himself perfectly still, one wrong move potentially spelling his end. You admired the endurance and discipline it required almost as much as you admired the patterns of pain you were tracing around the letters now, little hearts and swirling shapes. You followed behind the knife with open-mouthed kisses, as you wanted him to experience the sting and ache at the same time as you wanted to draw them away and spare him any suffering.

“Please,” he breathed. “Please, haven’t I been good?”

You looked up, a little startled at the question. 

“Of course you’ve been good. You’ve been so good. Perfect, obedient, beautiful. You’ve been all those things Diego,” you assured him. 

“Then please, I can’t take anymore. Please stop teasing me, no more games.”

You frowned. It wasn’t the safeword you had agreed to, but maybe…

“Please, don’t I deserve a reward?”

Oh.

“Of course you do baby. Do you want to cum now?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“No?” you startled. 

“No. I don’t want to cum yet. Not until I taste you. I know you’re wet, I know you. I want that sweet little pussy all over my face.”

“Well who am I to refuse you whatever your heart desires?” You said, eyes sparkling with mirth before you rose up on your hands and knees, crawling over him until you were poised, hovering just out of reach of his tongue, which was already darting out to run across his lips. 

His hands strained at the ropes, and you knew that if his hands were free, something you could have given him with a few flicks of the little knife if you wanted to, they would be gripping your hips with bruising strength and holding you down while he pleasured you. You closed your eyes, letting the image dance across your eyelids while you sank down. 

Diego’s tongue flicked through your folds, tasting your gathered wetness. The groan that followed vibrated up through you, and it took all of your willpower, and the sharp bite of your nails into the palm of one hand, the other braced on the headboard, parallel to Diego’s own arms, not to break from that sensation alone. He sucked hard on your sensitive clit and you keened, grinding down on his face just as he moved his attention, tongue diving into you. You continued to move, hips bucking in rhythm with the thrust and flick of the wet muscle inside you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer and then in a primal scream as he flicked and sucked at your clit again, alternating back and forth faster than you could keep track of. He answered each sound you made with one of his own, groans and moans and hums mixing with his clever mouth to drive you over the edge, and then again without warning as he refused to let up. 

“Oh fuck!” you cried out, “Fuck, Diego, yes! You make me feel so good baby!”

As a third orgasm tore through you, you pulled from him, trembling in the aftershocks as you tried to catch your breath.

“That was so good baby,” you panted. “You always know how to make me feel so good. But now it’s your turn.”

You slowly slunk down the bed, trailing kisses and little nips along his skin until you reached your destination. Looking up to check on him, and because you knew how much he loved the sight of you making eye-contact as you sucked him off, you wrapped your lips around his dick and slowly lowered your mouth onto it, taking him as deep as you could until he bumped at the back of your throat and tears stung at the corners of your eyes. Curling your hand around the base of him, the other bracing yourself against his thigh, you set an unstable pattern, working him rapidly, twisting your fingers and bobbing your head up and down only to suddenly slow, so that you were all but still, holding him in your mouth and the length of his cock with your tongue and then resuming your motions, trying to keep him on his toes. He bucked his hips as far as the ropes would allow him, trying to match your patterns with thrusts of his own, and crying out your name over and over. 

“Oh, Y/N,” he moaned. “I’m so close. I’m so fucking close.”

You squeezed gently on the base of his cock at the same you hollowed out your cheeks, taking him as deep as you could and he came with a feral growl, his cum filling your mouth, hot and salty and you swallowed down as much of it as you could, fighting the urge to gag. 

Slowly, you slid him out of your mouth and stood. Your own fluids were rapidly cooling on the insides of your thighs as you made your way shakily to the bathroom for some warm cloths to clean you both up.

As you returned to Diego’s side, you noticed the way he shivered and sweat. Concerned, you quickly slit the ropes, freeing him to curl in on himself.

“Diego, baby?” you asked softly, stroking the damp fabric over his skin soothingly. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, sounding hoarse and slightly out of breath. “That was just a lot…”

“Too much?” 

“No. No,” he shook his head, reaching around to grab one of your hands in his. “It was perfect, I’m just…I’ll be fine.”

You bit your lip, not sure if you believed him and concerned that you’d gone too far, all in the name of showing him how amazing he was.

“How can I help?” you asked, wanting to follow his lead and speed his recovery.

“Just, hold me, please.”

“Let me finish cleaning us both up, and then I can definitely do that,” you said with a smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Diego.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

[floatinginwords]

Saved by the Devil (8/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: you go missing and a lot of people get worried

Paring: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (Not romantic..yet)

A/n: I actually wasn't gonna post today but this chapter fell out of me. Its funny how some days are tougher to write and others its like riding a wave. I hope everyone has a wonderful day :)

The man with the busy eyebrows and mustache called himself Inspector Campbell. A fucking police officer. When you came too you found yourself tied to a chair, ropes around your wrist and legs, tight against the skin cutting off blood circulation. He didn’t ask questions first. No first, was the punching against your ribs and stomach. Then your face. He didn’t give you no breaks, not like he would give you any.

 “I think me and you have gotten fairly acquainted with.” The inspector say his foul breath reaching up your nostrils. Blood dribbled down your chin and nose. It was you could taste.

His men have left the room, on his orders of course. He leans on his cane as he stares at you from above. A evil smirk on his face as if he was some god looking down at his pitiful creations. You spit blood at his shoe.

 He grabs your face harshly, you face scrunching up like a fish. “Tell me what you were doing with Thomas Shelby. Or I can make this night a whole lot painful for you.”  He throws you back and all you do is glare at the man. Not saying a word. Not even huffing a sound.

 The inspector laughs. And walks out the door. You see him point to you with his cane as he talks to the other men that were abusing you moments ago.  You brace yourself for the inevitable. The torture last for hours.

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

 No ones seen you for three days. Ada, the first night you didn’t comeback, called Trinity. but she hadn’t seen you since the morning. The next day Ada and James went out looking through the streets at your usual spots. You didn’t have any Ada just wanted to feel as though she was doing something. You didn’t have any family or any other friends. Except one other person who may know your whereabouts. So on the third day of no trace of you, with a little nagging and encouragement from James and Trinity, Ada decided to make a call.

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

 Over at May Careltons mansion, Thomas Shelby listens half heartedly to the woman discussing the progress on his horse. He could care less at the moment. He’s just thinking of ways that he could stay the night. He wasn’t a fool, he knew of Mays attraction to him. It benefited him in more ways than one.

 “Excuse me, Mr. Shelby,” A maid interrupts May in the middle of whatever it was that she was saying, “You have a phone call.”

 “I’m sure they can leave a message.” His eyes not leaving Mays

 “Its your sister, she sounds urgent.” The maid says.

 With that thought in mind, Tommy excuses himself from May.

 “Ada this better be important.”

 “Where the fuck are you,” Ada screeches over the phone, “Ive been trying to contact you everywhere and Polly tells me your-“

 “What is it-“

 “(Y/n) is missing.”

 Tommy swallows hard. “I’m sure she’s around somewhere ada. How long its been?”

 “Three days. No ones seen her. Tommy please, Im worried.”

 Three days ago was when he last saw you. When you agreed to go to dinner with Alfie and Arthur You had left the car without another word. He wanted to follow you but decided against it. He was regretting it now.

 “Ada, just calm down. Ill ask some boys to go look for her okay?” He reassures his sister over the phone promising to find you.

He hangs up.

 “Is everything alright?” May asks from behind him. Her eyes were hopeful looking at him. She too was hoping he would stay though that was something she would never admit out loud.

“I have to go, family emergency.” He says. Turning his back on her without another thought.

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

He didn’t have to leave. He knew that. He could have stayed with May have her fill that hole within his heart that Grace had left about a year ago. He owed nothing to you. He kept telling himself this over and over as he drove back, pushing the speed way past its limit. He begins to reminisce about your first meeting. You were nothing but a chess piece to him at the time but you surprised him a lot in that first meeting. Especially when you didn’t take that money he offered. He was confused to say the least. Everyone took free money. You didn’t. He remembers seeing you again at the Eden club. He though he would never see again. But there you were. He couldn’t not talk to you. He just had to. He knew he hurt you with his words. He didn’t apologize. He never apologizes. He remembers finding out Ada had a roommate. Imagine the surprise on his face when he realized it was you. Of course Thomas Shelby was always in control of his emotions so it never really showed. He was distrustful of you as he always is with people. But you showed something since your first introduction that most people didn’t show their entire lives; Honesty. And he liked that about you. He believed you when you said you didn’t work for Sabini anymore. (Of course he had his people look into it after to be 100% sure) He trusted you to go to meet his brothers, be in the same car as them, come to an auction. He remembers seeing you bloody and a mess. Guilt and rage had filled him up. He couldn’t hold himself back from shooting the guy. When he stitched you up, he liked that you tried to make conversation. You knew when to back up, you never pried. He didn’t know if that was fear of him or if that was just you. He hoped the latter. He liked the way you said Mr. Shelby, though he often wondered how his first name would sound falling off your lips. Thomas Shelby pushes these feeling aside as he drives. He tells himself he just doing this as favor to his sister and because you can be very valuable. But as he drives into the city, a piece of his mind whispers that that just might not be the only case.

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

 Three fucking days. You couldn’t believe that that’s how long it lasted. The torture, the beatings. They released you on the thought that you really didn’t know anything. You never said a word. They drove you out to the fucking country side and dropped you off like you were trash. You were never more humiliated in your life. You walked, each step bring you pain and anguish. But you kept going.

 ‘Its Friday’ You think to yourself. You never got to call to confirm if you were going on that dinner. You laugh at yourself. Out of all things to worry about.

 You find a little pond as you were walking and attempt to wash your face off all the dirt and blood. You looked half decent.

 It took you till sundown to get back into London. People in the streets gawked at your face. You knew you were bruised pretty bad. Worse than before thanks to the inspector. The stitches on the right side of your body were now leaking. You can see the blood drip slowly through your hand. You sigh. Its always one problem after the next.

Once in front of the house, you see all the lights on. Something you knew Ada hated. You see multiple people moving about and you curse underneath your breath. The last thing you wanted was to interact with people. Someone looks through the window, a young boy you didn’t recognize.

 “Is that her Ada?” You hear the boy loudly say not keeping his eyes off of you.

 As soon as the boy says that, a multitude of people rush out to the window to look out followed by a rushing to the door. Ada being the first to run into you, bear hugging you.

 “Where the hell have you been?” She cries out.

 You stay silent, your arms limp across your sides. No energy left to pick them up or say anything. You wished at that moment to escape into eternal darkness forever. You see a bunch of people behind her mostly men. All in black caps and coats.

 ‘Peaky blinders.” You think. You step back from Adas hug and move up the stairs toward the house. The men spread apart not wanting you to push through them. You walk up the rest of the stairs to your room slowly. You can feel all their eyes burn into your back.

 Once you reach your bedroom, you sit on your bed and stare at the empty wall. You couldn’t get the inspector eyes out of your head. It was like he enjoyed watching the life get beaten out of you. He talked a lot.  You replay the last three days in your head trying to piece together what that crazy old man was talking about as he was ‘interrogating’ you

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

 As tommy walks through Adas door the first thing he realizes is that it seems that everyone is fucking here instead of doing their jobs. He watches them lounge about, eating and drinking away his sister’s stuff. He’s about to yell at them when Ada puts a hand on his shoulder.

 “Tommy She came home.” She says, he notices a lack of smile on her face.

 He raises an eyebrow.

 “She looks like she’s been beaten all over. I mean I only saw her face but the way she was walking…” Ada trails off biting her lip.

 “Im gonna talk to her.”

 “Tommy I don’t think-“

 Hes already at the top of the stairs before she finishes her sentence. Its not hard to figure out which room is yours. For reason being your room is the only one open. He sees your figure sitting up just staring at nothing in the dark. He clears his throat, not wanting to scare you with his unknown presence. You don’t turn around. He takes slow steps around to sit next to you on the bed. You both face the wall.

 “Its Friday,” you break the silence, “I apologize for not calling about dinner.”

 Right, he almost forgot that Alfie and Arthur were meeting right now.

 “Never mind that,” You suddenly get up as he talking, limping around the room, “what are you doing?”

 You light a candle on the other side of the room. He sees how bad your bruised face is in the light. And the blood trail your leaving with your freshly open hand.

 “(y/n), you should go see a doctor.” Thomas says standing up.

 “I’ve been through worse, Mr.Shelby.”

 “Who did this to you?” You notice the look of controlled anger on his face.

“Inspector campbell. Know him,” You ask sarcastically,” cause he really doesn’t like you.”

 You laugh and wince, the action hurting your ribs immensely, ”oh and he sure talked a lot. Kept mentioning a general, if I knew him, if I seen him, if you told me his name,” you pause, “what are you planning to do with a general?”

 He doesn’t answer you. The clocks in your brain keep turning. “Cause there’s only one thought that comes to my head.”

 “Why did he question you?”

 “Cause you took me to the fuckers house. And your being followed by the way.” A pain strikes through your head the more frustrated you become.

 “You should lie down.”

 “What did you get yourself into?”

 “it doesn’t concern you.”

 “Look at me, how does it not?”

He stares at you and though to you he looks emotionless, inside the feeling of guilt and fear are swirling. You on the other hand cant decipher anything that going on behind those eyes.

‘maybe this what he looks like when he is lost.’ You think. You know you could lend a hand through this, whatever it is. You assume an assassination. One the police are having a hand in themselves. When inspector Campbell was ‘questioning’ you, you noticed how it didn’t seem like he cared for the generals life but feared of who got a whiff of the info. It seemed that Mr. Shelby was getting something from it, maybe with you helping so can you. A ticket out of here perhaps.

 “what do you want?” He says shrugging.

  “I want to help.”

read pt.9

Tags

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @evelyn-4034 @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat

[quirklessidiot]

Title: tough luck Pairing: GN! Reader x Suna Rintarou [college au] Genre: domestic fluff and my bad comedy (teeny tiny angst if u squint)

Synopsis: “This is what some people call a bad day, Rin-chan.”               [this request of suna rintarou + fluff ]

Warnings: minor bad language but thats it Notes: 

omg i was finally able to write something fluffy yay! Hshdhdhd the mind- after all that angst. I hope yall enjoy this domestic college au suna hakhak where can i get one of these.

im posting three requests per week (its to help writers block and well, my english in general, they’ll be posted on random days) ill probably limit it to one when school starts though sike currently have four more requests to finish aye.

navigation

Thesis papers be damned.

You might as well burn your group mates to the depths of hell for leaving you to dry these past few weeks. They weren’t even replying to your messages tonight and you were having a mock presentation first thing in the morning.

You aggressively started to mix more cake batter after frosting the cupcakes.

“Baby?” a low voice echoes throughout the quietness of the kitchen, your steely gaze snaps to find your half-awake boyfriend standing there in his sleepwear, his raven hair completely a mess, if it were a normal day, you’d coo and snuggle next to your good-looking man and annoy the fuck out of him but no, you just had to be in a bad mood, “It’s four am, what’s with all the sugar overload?”

“I’m celebrating the death of my sleep schedule and my sanity. Want a cupcake, baby?” a sarcastic grin makes its way to your lips and honestly, despite his deadpan features, Suna was very worried. He had been bugging you these past weeks to stop living in coffee and instant noodles so he decided to crash your place tonight to scold you, cook yourself a hot meal, and smother you to sleep with his hugs but it seemed like it didn’t work at all and you just violently wormed your way out of his grasp.

He slowly made his way to you, eyes half-lidded, and grabbed the rubber spatula from your hands and snuggled his head on your shoulders like a kitten, “Sleep, Y/N. It’s not worth to stress over those shits.” his voice was blank as usual but you knew he meant well.

“Well those shits will be my downfall tomorrow if they can’t answer the panel’s questions.” You spat as you cracked the eggs harshly on the batter and snatched back the rubber spatula from his hand, letting out a loud huff as you continued to mix aggressively.

“Y/N…”

Silence.

“Y/N…” 

“Fine.” you grumbled, “Just let me-”

“I’ll clean up.” Suna sighs, grabbing the spatula once again from your hands, “Go to sleep, I’ll wake you up at seven am, just in time for your class, right?”

“But i can-”

“Y/N.” Suna narrows his eyes, determined to get the last say between you two.

“Ugh.” You grumbled, shoulders slouched, “six thirty-”

“No, seven am. Your class doesn’t start until nine. You need more rest. No take-backs.”

Giving your boyfriend one last stink-eye, you slowly trudged yourself to the bedroom and just flopped yourself towards the bed. Ah, how bad could this day even get?

You shouldn’t have jinxed it.

You were almost late since the professor had moved the presentation time to eight am, thank god your apartment was near your uni, your boyfriend literally watched you shove the most decent outfit you could find and throw yourself out the door in a hurry. In the midst of the presentation, your stomach started to grumble too since you weren’t able to grab a cracker or your usual bread to go before class.

Even worse, your stink of an eye group mates weren’t able to get their parts right.

You were downright ready to throttle them, thank god that this was just a mock defense.

Your mood doesn’t exactly brighten even after the defense, you sit there and look like those cartoons who had fumes coming out of their ears. After class ended, you decided to bring it up to your professor and he tells you it’s too late to take the names out.

Your mood dampens even more.

Exiting the classroom with a scrunched up feature, you stop to see a very familiar figure standing there holding a brown paper bag and a cup of steaming hot milk on his other.

“Mornin’” Suna quietly greets you as he gives you a light feathery kiss on your cheek.

You blink.

“Shouldn’t you be in class right now?”

“The professor was absent, he had some staff meeting so I decided to get you a bento box and some milk. Try to avoid coffee for the time being.” Suna explains as he transfers the cup of milk to his other hand so that he could hold your hand, “Let’s have breakfast, Y/N. You don’t have class until another hour, right?”

Before you could protest, your boyfriend drags you to the field and under the shade of a large tree to eat the bento he bought.

Suna quietly listens as you rant on about how annoying and how much you want to throttle your good-for-nothing groupmates, occasionally wiping the little crumbs on the side of your cheek, “...You should take it easy.” Suna simply replies after you finish your rant, “You’ll get a cold if you keep this up.”

“My okaasan will definitely let me live in the cold if I fail a class.” You shiver at the mental image of your mother giving you a sermon. Suna just sighs as he fixes up your trash, he could never argue with you.

“Come,” he stands up and holds out his hand for you again, “I’ll walk you to your next class.”

The sun shines brightly yet your day doesn’t get any better, you had a pop quiz on one of your weakest subjects and you couldn’t even finish the readings since you were too preoccupied with your thesis and your groupmates.

You inwardly let out a groan as you made your way to the library, your phone rings and your brows contort in confusion at the name of your boyfriend. “Hello?”

“How’s class?”

“You’re such a miracle worker.” You sighed, “You always know when to call.”

“That bad?”

“Everything just sucks, ah life feel so shitty these days-” You confessed, scratching your head in annoyance.

“Hey.” He cuts you off, voice dead serious, “It’s just a bad day, Y/N. Don’t worry, we all have these days. How many classes do you still have?”

“Just two.” you huffed out, completely frustrated by how bad your day was going.

“Take a deep breath and drink some water, alright? I’ll see you after class, let's walk home and order some takeout then sleep early alright? My class ends the same time as you today.”

“B-But…” You stop protesting, realizing that Suna would shut down the idea. Saying goodbye to your boyfriend, you take in a deep breath and do as he instructed. 

Thankfully nothing major happens on the next subject and as you were about to proceed to your last class, Suna texts you that he has some milk bread on your locker and your favorite banana milk. A small smile made its way to your lips, one more subject and this wretched day was over then you’ll get to snuggle next to your boyfriend.

Again, you shouldn’t have jinxed it.

Someone had accidentally spilled the banana milk you were drinking all over your white shirt along with his cup of mocha drink (which thank god was cold because if it wasn’t, you’d be suffering a burn)

You had to sit through the whole class with the sticky feeling on your chest and that ugly slosh, you really should’ve brought a jacket today.

“Hey baby- jesus christ, Y/N what happened?”

It’s quite hard to gouge a reaction from your boyfriend most of the times but you can’t believe that something as easy as the big ugly slosh of mocha and banana milk stain on your plain white shirt would actually shock him.

You pressed your lip into a tight line, pissed, as you open your arms, “This,” you exclaimed, “This is what some people call a bad day, Rin-chan.”

Suna shakes his head at your antic and just takes his sports jacket to place it on your figure, he’s awfully reminded of a Pomeranian when you’re angry but he’d never say that out loud. 

Instead he softly grabs your hand and tugs it lightly, your quiet on your way home. He notices that maybe the fatigue is slowly sinking in, so the minute you guys enter your apartment, he urges you to change into your pajamas while he orders take out.

After a quick bite, you lay on top of him and snuggle on his neck, humming an unfamiliar tune as you draw circles on his chest, “Thanks.”

“Hm?’

“For being there.” You hummed, “I wouldn’t know what I’d do if you weren’t my boyfriend. So yeah, thanks...”

Suna feels a small smile make its way to his lips, he doesn’t respond, instead he just kisses your head and lets you lay on his arms, “Hey Y/N…” He paused and when he notices that you’re soundly asleep on his arms, his smile turns wider. i love you, he thinks randomly as he watches you sleep, “Goodnight.” he whispers instead out loud, kissing your forehead again and hugging you into his arms.

[something-tofightfor]

Seasons to Cycles / 3

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader

Word Count:  13,467

Rating: M (Mentions of drug use, sex with multiple partners, language, what happened to Logan in the park)

Summary:  After spending time at Juliet’s, is there any reason for you and Logan to see each other again - especially with Ariella coming in for a few days? The answer is yes... and the situation is a lot more interesting than it may seem. 

Another invitation to Juliet’s reveals a lot more truth about Logan, about his past ... and about his future. 

Author’s Note: Nothing really to say here, except that writing Ariella makes me feel physically ill. I probably made her a lot more terrible than I needed to ... but oh well.  The next one is where things really pick up. Thank you all for your feedback so far! 

When Logan called the following Thursday, it surprised you, though not as much as it should have. You’d texted back and forth throughout the week; nothing serious, just saying hello and catching up, but like with other aspects of your friendship with Logan, the replies were coming much easier than they had been.

 You’d looked the two of them up after spending the day with him at Juliet’s - finding out more about his relationship with Ariella, as well as more about the woman herself, and while she’d had a few high profile relationships before Logan, it seemed that their engagement had come out of nowhere. In between the text messages about your jobs, Juliet, and a TV show that you discovered both of you watched, you wanted to ask him about the woman, but at the same time, you didn’t. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, you reminded yourself as you gathered your laundry from the dryer, phone pressed to your ear. Because I think he’ll tell you. “This might sound strange,” Logan said, without much of a greeting. “But I was wonderin’ if you wanted to come over on Sunday and watch the season finale of -” 

 He continued, but you could barely hear him over the sound of the alarm bells going off in your head. This is bad. But when you realized he’d finished speaking, you hummed, closing your eyes. “Is that a… Logan, is that a good idea?” You didn’t want to assume anything about his intention behind the invitation, but it still made you feel uncomfortable. “We’d know why I was there, but if anyone …” 

 “Who’s gonna find out? There are hundreds of people that live in this building, you could be visiting any of them.” He paused. “I’m not trying to make you … I just thought …” 

 “This would be three weekends in a row, Logan. I don’t know how I feel about the fact that I’ve already seen you more than your fiancée has in the last …” But you trailed off, putting down your laundry basket and grabbing for your phone. “Isn’t she supposed to be here this weekend? Why -” 

 “She is. She’ll be in tomorrow and then fly out on Saturday night to go to her meeting. I’m leaving Monday for the Mesa, and I just thought …” What did you think, Logan? “You can invite Jess if you want, I …” I could. 

 “She doesn’t watch. Can’t get into it, so that won’t…” You began folding towels, holding the phone between your cheek and shoulder. “Logan, why are you … I’m sure you have a ton of friends, so why …” Why are you questioning this? 

 “You get along with my sister.” He said it simply, but you understood the weight of the words. “And like I said, I lost a lot of my friends when I changed my lifestyle, so it’s nice to …” 

 “Do you consider us friends, then?” It was blunt, but you needed to ask. “I mean we haven’t really known each other for long, so it might be too soon to …” 

 “I do.” There was no hesitation. “And I know that it’s probably hard for you to believe, especially since we just met, but I like you, and I like that you aren’t intimidated by my history.” I don’t know a lot of it, Logan, but I … “So I’m inviting you over, and you can say no if you want, but I just thought I’d ask.” Pulling your phone away from your ear, you pressed the button for speakerphone, setting it onto the table. “I’m gonna take your silence as -”

 “I’ll come over, Logan. Just give me your address, and I’ll be there.” He let out a breath, asking if you were sure. “Yep.” Stacking the towels together, you smiled, even though you were angry at yourself. You’re setting yourself up for disappointment. “Besides, I’m pretty sure the neighbors will appreciate the fact that I’m not yelling out loud in my apartment for an hour and a half.” 

 --- 

 “So you’re going out to the Mesa Monday morning?” She was laying on his bed on her stomach, legs bent at the knee and joined at the ankle. “Clients?” 

 “Yeah.” I told you that three times. “Gonna be there about a week, give or take.” He looked over his shoulder, watching as Ariella propped her chin up on one hand, her eyes on him. “How long will you be in San Fran for?” 

 “Not even 24 hours, Logan. If I wasn’t seeing you, I would have just flown there, but instead …” She waved her free hand in the air. “Here I am.” You could act a little happier about it. “And then I’ll be back home. Nathan’s birthday is next week, so we’re going to Amsterdam for a few days, and than I’ll…” He tuned her out, eyes roving over her face and then moving back, taking in the sight of her against his sheets, stretched out on his bed. Another trip. Another … another story we’re going to have to buy to keep it quiet, another … 

 “Ari?” He shifted toward her, reaching out with one hand to touch her left, his thumb rubbing against the ring on her finger. “I can come see you in London on my way home from the Mesa, stop by for a couple days. Maybe we can meet with some of the -” She laughed, tossing her head to one side. “What’s so funny?” 

 “That’s why we have a wedding planner, Logan. So we don’t have to deal with it.” But I want to … 

 “Don’t you want to be part of the planning, Ari? Even a little? I know you picked out a dress, but -” 

 “Actually, about that.” She sat up, straightening her shirt., her hands smoothing it down her sides. “There are a couple of designers that are asking if they can make my dress, and I’m meeting with my publicist to figure out what the best option is, exposure-wise.” Is that all this … don’t you … “You could probably do the same with your suit … tux, whatever you choose. Maybe even the rings, too” 

 “Well, won’t we have to -” She rolled her eyes. 

 “You know as well as I do, Logan, that this wedding is going to be the only thing people talk about for months. It’s going to be good for us and for Delos, so we might as well get as much out of it as we can, don’t you think?” She was twisting a strand of hair around her finger, and Logan fought back a wince. “Call the planner again, figure out what they think will look best, and then have them give you options. It’s simple.” She was looking around, her lips pressed together. “And are you going to look for a house? I don’t want to live in an apartment in the middle of …” Logan gritted his teeth, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. 

 “I thought that since we’d be living there together, a house would be something that we could …” She stared at him, deadpan, and Logan cut himself off. “... find together, but I guess I can find a realtor when it gets closer. Maybe I’ll use Juliet’s, she found her -” 

 “No suburbs, Logan. If I’m leaving London and coming here, I want to live by the beach. Or at least somewhere I can see it.” That’s the most reasonable thing you’ve said all day. She said his name again, and Logan’s attention went back to the woman, who was climbing out of the bed and walking toward the bathroom door. “I’m going to shower, since I have to be at the airport in just under two hours.” He nodded, and she gestured to the open door. “Are you gonna -” 

 He forced a smile. “Nah. Wouldn’t wanna make you late.” The woman actually laughed, her eyes lighting up. “Go. Your stuff’s still in there from last time, so you won’t have to get on the plane smelling like …”

 “You always smell good, Logan.” She wrinkled her nose. “That wouldn’t be a bad thing.” As she disappeared into the room and closed the door behind her, Logan lowered himself onto the bed, rubbing his hands over his face. This just gets more and more exhausting. But maybe … He pushed himself to his feet, making his way out into the living room and sitting on the arm of his couch, eyes on the city stretched out in front of him. The sun was just beginning drop behind the buildings to the right of his balcony, and Logan chewed on his lip as he stared through the glass, thinking. 

 Ariella’s visit had been no different than the last time she’d been in LA, though much shorter. He’d picked her up from the airport in one of the Delos cars, waiting by the gate, and even though he thought that there had been a few paparazzi, there’d been no pictures of the two of them popping up. But they know she’s here, she posted a picture from the plane, and … He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. And we went out for dinner last night, so…  

 Logan liked the press at times, understanding the need to bolster the Delos image with being seen publicly, giving the photographers what they wanted every now and then. Especially after what happened a couple years back, and with Juliet’s divorce. We both kinda fucked that up, didn’t we, Dad? 

 Between Juliet’s public divorce, and Logan’s very public downward spiral, there’d been a fair amount of rebuilding for the Delos brand, starting with Logan’s trips to rehab and continuing with the introduction of the everyday tech line and his engagement. Ask which of the latter two I’m prouder of. Looking down and then back up and out the window, Logan sighed. It’s not that I don’t care about her, because I do, but … “Logan?” He looked back over his shoulder, seeing his fiancée standing in the doorway wearing a simple blue dress, her wet hair braided and hanging over one shoulder. “I’m gonna keep this here, alright?” She was holding a small tin in one hand, a lopsided smile on her face. “Not trying to take it on a commercial flight, and since I don’t have access to the Delos jet yet…” She shrugged, moving the tin back and forth. “That would be a story.” 

 Warily, he stood and walked toward the woman, head tilted to the side. What is it this time? “Ari, what -” But when he put his hand against her shoulder, the other one curving around the back of her head to tilt it up and look into her eyes, disappointment hit him like a freight train. “You gotta slow down with that shit, you know that.” He leaned down, lips finding her forehead, the skin hot beneath them. “Why’d you -” 

 She leaned into his touch, sniffling twice before she answered. “The shit’s better here than at home, and I…” She sighed, her lips against his throat. “You know that, Logan, you used to bring it -” Her heart was racing beneath his palm, but Logan stiffened, pulling away. 

 “Used to. Not anymore.” The woman opened her eyes wide, straightening up and staring at him. “You know I -” She ran her tongue along her lower lip, pupils dilated, and though eighteen months prior, the action would have caused Logan to grip her by the arms, pushing her back into the bedroom and opening the small tin for himself before he took her to bed, he wanted  to do none of those things. “I don’t do that shit anymore, don’t want it in my…” But the woman rose up on her toes, lips finding Logan’s and lingering. 

 “You know the deal, Logan. It stops when we get married. All of it. But until then?” She kissed his cheek, mouth moving slowly over his skin, and Logan closed his eyes, the hand at the base of her skull tightening, his fingers sliding down her bare arm toward her elbow. “Until then, I’m gonna keep doing what I’m doing. That’s what we agreed, right?” We did. It’s all there in the… He felt her teeth close around his earlobe, and Logan’s eyes closed, fingers of both hands flexing as his body reacted to the feeling. “Besides, you wouldn’t get in the shower with me, so I … improvised.” 

 “Ari.” He sighed her name out, pushing her away gently. “Look at me.” She did, head tilted up slightly, and Logan let go of her hand, reaching up to brush his thumb beneath her nose, removing a tiny spot of white from her pale skin. “Just because I know that doesn’t mean I wanna…” He drew his lower lip into his mouth, watching as the woman’s eyes followed the movement. “I don’t want to see you like this right before you go, especially since I don’t know when we’ll see each other again.” It’s the truth. “You never answered me, do you want me to stop in London when I -” 

 “Nah.” She gave him a lopsided smile and pulled out of his arms, shrugging her shoulders. “I’ll see you when I come back in for your dad’s party, that’ll… that’ll be good.” Will it? That’s another month. “I’m gonna put this in this drawer.” She stepped over to the kitchen, pulling one of the smaller drawers open and sliding the tin in. “I’ll get it when I come back, unless you …” She glanced up. “Unless you decide to use it before then.” No. I won’t. I’ll move that to the safe after she’s gone. She walked back toward him, her bare feet padding over the wooden floor and reached up, her hand cupping his cheek. “When I come back, Logan? We can meet with anyone you want. A caterer? Florist? Venues?” Really? “I know I should care more, but I’ve never really… thought about my wedding, Logan, and it’s just … overwhelming.” I didn’t either, I didn’t even have a steady relationship until… 

 Though he kept his expression impassive, Logan realized that he’d never been in a steady relationship. Yeah, we’re engaged, but … “I’ll look into it, Ari. I’ll let you know.” He reached up, covering her hand with his and squeezing. “Let me call you a car. You may not be usin’ the jet, but I can have one of the Delos drivers here in ten.” She agreed and he stepped away, pulling his phone out of his pocket and tilting it. As the screen lit, he was surprised to see a message from you, reminding him that you needed his address. Shit, I forgot to send it to her. I’ll do that… Swiping his finger in the same pattern as before, he opened the app to order the ride, typing in Ariella’s name as the passenger, which auto-selected her preferences. This shit is convenient, at least. “All done. It’ll be here in eight minutes.” 

 “Thanks.” The woman lifted both hands over her head, stretching as she walked back toward the bedroom. “I’ll get my bag, and then …” Her voice trailed off as Logan replaced his phone in his pocket, following her. Stepping back into the main room a few seconds later, a small suitcase trailing behind her, Ariella paused, one hand on the marble countertop. “Why haven’t you asked me about last weekend, Logan?” He heard a quiet clicking as she tapped her fingers against the surface. “I got the alert from my publicist that the story was axed, but…” Here we go. He was familiar with the mood swings, the changes in Ariella’s behavior, but what was new was the fact that she was trying to pick a fight with him immediately before leaving. It’s giving her ammunition. Giving her an excuse to… 

 “Because I don’t want to know.” His words honest, Logan looked straight into the woman’s eyes. “That’s three, Ari. Three times we’ve had to … catch things before they go too far. The deal was -”

 “I know the deal, Logan.” She snapped at him, all traces of affection that had been present only minutes before gone. “Just like you do. It’s not my fault I get followed more than you do, that people want to -” He laughed, reaching up with one hand to scratch one side of his face, nodding. So we’re going to go there? Alright. 

 “No, but it is your fault that you’re getting sloppier, so that’s on you.” The anger he felt was real; bubbling over after months of reflection, and Logan reminded himself to take a deep breath, reining it in. “But that’s what the lawyers are for, right? Keeping shit like that away from the press?” She shook her head at him, and just as Logan was about to speak again, his phone pinged, letting him know that the car was only a few minutes away. “There’s your ride.” He gestured to the door. “Good luck with your meeting, Ariella.” The woman looked as if she wanted to speak but didn’t, instead walking past Logan and to the door. “And have fun with Nathan next week. Hopefully in Amsterdam, you won’t be followed as much as you are in London, so you -” 

 “Oh, fuck you, Logan. You act like you’re a goddamn saint.” She snarled the words, turning back to him and flexing her fingers around the suitcase’s handle, the diamond on her finger glinting in the overhead lighting. “Remember when we met? You were worse than me, and I didn’t judge you for it. Now you’re acting like… Jesus, live a little, Logan. Otherwise, the next thr-” She cut herself off, shaking her head back and forth. “We both knew what this was, Logan, so I don’t know why you’re giving me so much shit right now. Make the most of it - I sure am.” 

 “Yeah, I fucking know you are.” But he didn’t raise his voice, just watched the woman with a half smile on his face. “Have a safe flight, Ari. I’ll see you in a few weeks.” She didn’t say anything else, instead turning and pulling the door open after walking the final few feet toward it, Logan standing in the middle of his living room. It shut behind her, and though she didn’t slam it, Logan closed his eyes at the sound. This was so much easier when I was … His eyes opened and went to the kitchen, staring in the direction of the drawer she’d used. So much easier. So much less… But he looked away, taking a deep breath and stepping toward the balcony, sliding the door open and walking out onto it. 

 Logan’s fingers closed around the railing, gripping the metal as he leaned forward. He was only 17 stories up, but the view calmed him, his anger subsiding the longer he stood in place. She isn’t wrong. I did know. I do know. But as Logan dropped into one of the chairs, one hand covering his face, it didn’t make him feel any better. That could have gone much differently.  He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, thinking. I wasn’t even going to mention Nathan or last weekend, or … she knew that we had to pay them off, knew what they got pictures of, knew what … and she still… “Fuck.” He swore again, slamming one hand on the table before he lifted his head, looking down Grand Avenue toward the Convention Center. He felt his phone vibrate, and for one long second, he thought that it might have been Ariella, calling to apologize, but when he pulled the device from his pocket, it was another message from you, complete with an apology for bothering him.

 I know you’re busy, and I hate bothering you when Ariella’s there, but I thought I’d try again before it got too late. If you still want me to come tomorrow, I need your address. If not, I’m going to call my friend Kira and see if she wants to watch together. If you have to cancel, Logan, it’s no big deal, just let me know. 

 As he swiped up, he saw that your first message had been sent hours earlier, and Logan groaned. She was there when I ignored Ari’s call, so she probably thinks I’m… Logan scrubbed a hand over his face, swearing for a third time and then pushed the button to call you instead of just messaging back. She won’t answer. But you did, on the third ring, greeting him by name. “Sorry it took me so long, Ariella just left to get on her flight, and I just saw your first message.” 

 “Don’t apologize. I figured it was something like that, and I didn’t want … I shouldn’t have sent two messages, that looks …” No, it doesn’t. 

 “If you come over early tomorrow, we can get somethin’ to eat before.” He cut you off, resting his elbow on the table, fingers curled and tucked beneath his chin. “How’s that sound?” He heard you take a breath. Why does she second guess everything I say? 

 “I guess we’ve gotta eat, Logan.” He released the breath that he’d taken, smiling. “I’m not too picky, so whatever you want to order works for me.” 

 “We’ll just order when you get here, it’s fine.” Logan sat straight up, then leaned back in his chair. “That’s onea the nice things about living here - plenty of options.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “What time you wanna stop by? Show starts at 9.” 

 “I can get there at 8:30?” Logan laughed out loud, and you did too, but yours was nervous. “What’s so funny?” 

 “What’s the point, then? We won’t even have time to order or eat, and then…” He realized that he wanted to spend longer than that with you, and Logan stopped speaking, eyes going wide. Oh, that… “I mean, if you have something to do and can’t get here til then, that’s fine, but…” Your end of the line went quiet, and Logan was afraid that the connection had been broken when you finally spoke again. 

 “What time do you want me there, Logan? I have no plans, except going grocery shopping, and…” You sighed. “I have work Monday, and you have a flight, so…” 

 “Any time after 5 is fine.” That gave you a larger window, and Logan figured you wouldn’t get to his place until at least 6, but the earlier time appealed to him. Especially since after that I’ll be … gone for a week, at least. “Just let me know tomorrow, alright? I’ll let you go now, but I wanted to call you instead of texting, because I…” Why’d you call, Delos? “It was easier, and that way I didn’t have to wait for an answer.” And because I wanted to. The sound you made convinced Logan that you’d rolled your eyes, but when you spoke, you sounded happy. 

 “Why don’t… why don’t I shoot for 5:30? What’s the address? Where do I park? Is there a garage, or -” Shit, I didn’t even think of… 

 “I get two spaces in my name, plus a couple guest spots, so when you pull in, turn in off of Olympic, and give my name at the gate. I’ll let ‘em know you’re coming, so they’ll tell you where to go.” You repeated the information, and he was almost positive that you were writing it down. “I’m on the 17th floor, in 1703, so just take the elevator up, or I can come meet you in the lobby.” 

 “Elevator’s fine, Logan. I think I can manage.” He agreed, standing and walking back into his condo, eyes moving around the room. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” He agreed, saying your name and telling you to have a good night. “Oh, I’ll try. I’m about to run out and grab dinner, and then I’m going to watch a movie, so… thrilling Saturday over here.” It’s better than mine. 

 “What’s for dinner?” He couldn’t help asking, even as he stood in front of his own refrigerator, hand on the door. “That way I won’t pick the same thing for tomorrow.” 

 “There’s this place that’s right around the corner that’s a tiki bar. I can walk there, it’s so close, and it’s a hole in the wall, but they have like fifteen different types of tropical drinks.” 

 “That’s not food.” He grinned, imagining you with a frozen drink in your hand, twisting the tiny umbrella between your fingers. “And you’re drinkin’ alone in a bar?” You laughed again at that, and Logan was happy to hear that there was no hesitation or apprehension to the sound. 

 “No, I usually meet friends there. But tonight, I’m going by myself. And I know it’s not food, Logan, but they don’t have a kitchen, they just have different food trucks park on the side street.” You cleared your throat. “So, I’m going, and I’m gonna order a giant Mai-Tai to go, hope the taco truck is there tonight, and bring it all home to eat alone while I watch my movie.” That sounds great. He held back from saying it, though, just agreeing with you. “So I’ll see you tomorrow, Logan?”. 

 “Yeah. I’m gonna go pack, that way I don’t have to do before you get here, or after you leave.” Even though it won’t take me long, since I only need a few outfits. He said goodbye and then hung up, still standing in front of the refrigerator. Tacos actually sound really… “C’mon, Delos.” He rubbed at his beard, shaking his head. “You …” But the more Logan thought about it, the more he realized that after hearing you talk about tacos, nothing else would cut it.

 --- 

 When you parked in his garage the next night, you spent a few minutes looking around at the cars that were parked around you. Mine’s the least expensive one in here, by… You sighed. By far. Though Logan never made you feel as though you didn’t belong anywhere near him, the surroundings often did; the expensive hotel, Juliet’s multimillion-dollar home, Logan’s high rise, the talk of the parks and his traveling … it was all new to you, and much more extravagant than you were accustomed to. But there’s a first time for everything, right? Exiting the car, you saw Logan’s parked in the space next to yours, meaning that you weren’t in a guest spot - you were in one of his. I figured he’d have two cars parked here, but I guess… 

 You texted him as you locked your door, heading for the elevator, and even though he didn’t reply, you saw that he’d opened the message. Alright. It rose quickly, and when you stepped onto his floor, you took a deep breath, straightening your shoulders. It’s just a TV show. We’re just … But you knocked, taking a half step back, and waited for Logan to open the door. He did after only a few seconds, and you were happy to see that yet again, Logan was dressed casually, in a pair of black joggers and a white t-shirt, hair loose around his face. “Hey!” He grinned, gesturing for you to come in. “You’re early.” 

 “Not by much!” You walked into his apartment, glancing around. “It’s 5:30, Logan, I -” But he was laughing, following you down the short hallway and into the living room. “It’s so open. This place is…” Your hand trailed over the countertop, head turned toward the longer hallway. “Wow. That view.” He followed you silently, letting you look around, but when you turned back to face him, he had a smile on his face, eyes sparkling. “It’s gorgeous, Logan.” 

 “Is it?” He looked down and then back at you, tongue wetting his lips. “I guess I forget what it’s like to see this place for the first time, I’ve lived here for …” Furrowing his brow, he thought. “Four years?” His dark furniture was a stark contrast to the white walls and gleaming fixtures, large pieces of artwork adorning the walls, along with a massive TV  mounted to the largest one, directly across from the oversized couch. It’s not stuffy. It looks … it looks comfortable, not just … formal. “Wanna see the rest of it?” 

 “Sure.” Without hesitation, you agreed, Logan motioning for you to follow him down the hallway where he pointed out the first bedroom, which was being used as an office, and the bathroom before leading you into the master bedroom, where he’d opened the drapes all the way. Without speaking, you walked past a large painting hanging on the wall and over to the glass, raising one hand to touch it with your fingertips. “Damn, this would … not be a good choice for someone that’s afraid of heights.” You looked over your shoulder, seeing that he was just a few feet behind you, watching you. “There’s so much glass, Logan, it’s…” You searched for the right word. “Stunning.” 

 “Yeah?” You nodded. You sound like an idiot. “Thank you.” Logan raised one eyebrow. “You should see my closet.” A few seconds later, you were standing inside of it with him, one hand covering your face as you laughed. 

 “When did we leave your condo and step into a…” You opened your eyes, using two fingers to flip through some of the hangers. “Tom Ford? Burberry? Givenchy?” This rack costs more than my… “Was there a portal or something I missed? Did we -” 

 “You think you’re so amusing, hmm?” He stepped closer, reaching past you to straighten one of the jackets. “I run a company, remember? I have to look professional.” As he drew his hand back, it glanced off of your arm, causing you to freeze in place. “If you turn around, you’ll see the…” You did as he spoke, and laughed again. 

 “And we’re back.” Even he laughed at that, watching as you shook your head while you looked at the opposite side of the closet, filled with less formal clothing - jeans and button downs, a few jackets and hoodies. “I really shouldn’t joke, though.” You looked over at Logan, who was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. “You wear the hell out of a suit, Logan.” He seemed surprised at your candor, but you were just being honest. “And having options is never a bad thing.” Whatever he’d planned on saying, he abandoned it, instead leaning forward and staring into your eyes. 

 “Yeah, but have you seen me in a tux?” Snorting, you ignored the question and walked past him and back into the room. I have. I’ve looked at too many pictures of you in all kinds of … “Bathroom’s just through there, I think you’ll like that, too.” He was right, and as you stepped through that doorway, you stopped in your tracks, eyes straight ahead. Oh, that shower, it’s… I bet the water pressure is… and it’s huge, two people could easily… 

 “Wow.” You knew that he could see your expression in the mirror’s reflection and so you turned toward it, frowning slightly. “I don’t mean to be so …” He stood next to you, hands on the counter’s edge, and waited. “I don’t know what I was expecting Logan, but this …” 

 “Why are you apologizing?” He was frowning too, and despite the fact that you wanted to continue staring into the glass, you turned your head, facing him head on. 

 “Because it’s just an apartment, Logan. It shouldn’t … I told myself I wasn’t going to …” 

 “Can I tell you something?” He reached out, laying his hand over yours for a second before pulling it back. Sure, I … “Seeing you react to this place? Your genuine reaction to it?” He laughed quietly. “It’s better than all the people that are used to it, and don’t even… don’t even bat an eye.” It’s not, stop. “And it’s much better than the people that used to come here and not even see it.” You watched as his eyes wandered back toward the bedroom before coming back to you. “So thank you, for bein’ honest about it.” You stared at him for a few seconds, and then decided to lighten the mood. We need it, this is too… 

 “You know what else I’m going to be honest about, Logan? You bit down on the corner of your lip. “I’m really hungry.” His lips parted and then he laughed again, straightening up and reaching out to you, tugging on your elbow. He didn’t even think about that, he just … But you didn’t think twice before you followed him, either. --- 

 After looking over the menu, you’d given him the go-ahead to surprise you, and when the delivery was made, the two of you took the food out onto his balcony, talking over your meal. Within an hour and a half, the two of you had eaten most of the food that had been delivered from Katsuya, and you were more than content. He ordered almost the whole damn menu, I think. But it was … “This the first time you’ve had -” You nodded, watching Logan’s surprise. “Damn, this is a whole night of firsts for you.” 

 “Actually.” You took a long drink out of your glass, the ice water deliciously cool in the slightly humid air. “Since I met you, Logan? It’s been a lot of firsts.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table and watched you. 

 “Like what?” I shouldn’t have said anything. “Oh, come on, you can’t just say that and then …” 

 “Well.” You reached forward, picking up one more piece of edamame and putting it into your mouth. “First time having to remind someone that ice cream is frozen and does actually melt if left out.” He wrinkled his nose, the lines deeper than usual. “First time embarrassing myself by trying to play the piano next to someone that -”

 “Hey, you were really good for someone that hasn’t played in a while.” Ok, but still. 

 “Eh. Sure.” You eyed him, waiting a second. Do I keep this …  “First time meeting someone’s sister based on the fact that I didn’t try to break up an engagement and sleep with you after knowing you for five minutes and having some drinks.” He actually laughed at that, mouthing the word ‘wow’. “What? It’s true.” 

 “It is.” It was his turn to take a drink, though he didn’t take his eyes off of you. “Keep goin’.” 

 “We’re already to tonight, Logan. This is only the third time we’ve actually… well, fourth if you count Whole Foods, but …” You shrugged, leaning back in your chair. “How many more firsts…” But you stopped, pressing your lips together as you realized what a dangerously loaded question that could be. Oh, no. He stayed quiet for a few seconds and then reached up, pulling his hair back from his face with one hand and using his tongue to lick at the corner of his mouth. I’ve never seen that look on his face before, he’s never done … 

 “Plentya firsts, actually.” Logan’s voice was low, but there was no hesitation. “But not ones … not ones that -”

 “Stop, Logan.” Suddenly feeling panic, you shook your head back and forth, eyes widening. “Don’t.” You can’t, because I can’t, because if I think about any of that, I … 

 “There’s somethin’ you need to know about me.” He said your name, and though your heart was still beating rapidly, you managed to look back at him, hoping that your eyes weren’t wild. “The most important thing about me, actually.” What? “I never lie. Ever. I told you that when we got to Juliet’s, but …  I can bend the truth, sure, and I do it, because I need to sometimes, for work. But outright lie? I refuse to.” He was still eyeing you, but you didn’t hear any indication that his words were forced. He said the same thing in the car. “And you can’t believe me, I know that, because anyone can say that they don’t…” He looked frustrated. 

 “Why are you telling me this, Logan?” You were still leaning back in your chair, arms protectively crossed over your chest. “What -” What does his honesty mean to me? It’s not … 

 “I don’t know. It’s not good business, I can say that for sure.” You had to chuckle at that, but cut it off quickly. “Call it a tell, call it a fault, call it whatever the fuck you want, but if we’re gonna keep seein’ each other like this, getting to know each other? You need to know that every single thing that I tell you is the truth, because…” His eyes clouded over for a few seconds, but then he blinked, refocusing on you. “Because it is.” 

 “Logan, what…” You took a deep breath. “I don’t understand where this is …” 

 “I like you.” He said it simply. “I like seeing you and talking to you.” You watched as his expression changed, the man sitting up straight. “You asked if I thought we were friends, and I said yes, and it was the truth.” Ok, but I already knew this, and I agree. 

 “And I like you, Logan, but that doesn’t …” Confused, you sat up too. “Why are you telling me this? What are you -” 

 “There’s so much you don’t… so much that …” He laughed quietly, looking down. “So much I wish I could tell you.” What the hell does that mean? “Forget it for now, alright? I shouldn’t have said anything, but you … you walked into it, with the whole “firsts” thing.” Though you wanted to know what he was talking about, you were content to let it go for the time being. He’s leaving for a week, and maybe he’ll have time to… and I don’t have to think about whatever this is, or what he… “I just want you to know that whatever happens, everything I say to you is the truth.” Logan stood, beginning to clear the table, throwing napkins and empty dishes into the delivery bag. “I know I gotta earn that trust from you, but maybe … maybe you hearin’ it will be …” This is strange, something … 

 You stood too, helping him, and within only a few minutes, you were both back in his kitchen, Logan sorting through the trash and you washing dishes. Say something. “So this truth thing.” You glanced over, watching as he stopped moving, meeting your eyes. “Has it been your whole life, or just since…” You made a face, realizing that you were walking into delicate territory. “Just since you got clean?” 

 “Both.” He answered immediately. “More now, because there’s nothin’ altering my thoughts, but … it’s been since I was a kid. Juliet used to know that she couldn’t get away with anything, because my mom would always …” His eyes filled with warmth. “I definitely didn’t get it from my dad, but honesty - and integrity - have always been really important, especially when it comes to Delos.” I get that. “And even with the people I’ve been with? Never lied to them, either. Never promised ‘em anything, or led ‘em on. When it was just sex, it was just sex. When it was just me not wantin’ to be alone? They knew it.” 

 As you stood in the middle of Logan’s brightly lit kitchen, listening to and watching him speak, you had to wonder if his truth with you was at the same level it was with everyone else. But this is so new, he has no reason to… “I appreciate that, Logan. It’s much easier when you know where you stand with someone. I’d rather have someone tell me in the beginning that they’re just trying to get laid instead of letting me get attached and then …” You lifted one shoulder, watching as his eyes moved with the action. “Leaving, or… letting me down.” 

 “Fuck ‘em.” He stepped closer, reaching behind you to turn off the water. “They do that shit, they don’t deserve you.” You don’t even know me. How can you … “D’you want a drink? We’ve got about twenty minutes, so we should…” He gestured to the living room. “Get comfortable.” That was an abrupt change. But it was … “Go ahead and get whatever out of the fridge, I’m gonna close the blinds and…” But you reached out, shaking your head as you touched his arm. “What?”

 “No, don’t.” Looking past Logan, you stared out the window. “I live on the ground floor, Logan, the view is …” I could get used to it. 

 “Alright.” He cleared his throat. “But if there’s a glare on the TV?” He leaned closer, head angled. “I told you so.” 

 --- 

 Even though the two of you were settled on the same couch, there was space between you. It’s better this way. He was trying to pay attention to the show - which truly was one of his favorites - but it was difficult. And this is a great episode, so… But Logan’s mind wandered, his eyes with it, and he found himself watching you more than he watched the TV. And that’s hard to do, it’s a goddamn 82 inch screen. You’d asked him for a blanket before the show started, explaining to him that you needed to have something to do with your hands when things got tense, and he’d obliged, pulling one of the extra ones off of the shelf of the front closet and passing it to you. 

 It hadn’t taken long for you to wrap it around your shoulders, covering up the exposed skin of your arms as you gathered it in front of your face, fingers gripping the material tightly. He found it incredibly endearing, the way you were engrossed in the show - commenting occasionally, turning your head to look at him when something shocked you, one hand shooting out from beneath the material to grip his arm at one particularly tense point. This is the most at ease I’ve seen her, and she’s more tense than … He grinned at the thought, eyes leaving you and going back to the TV. “Oh, shit!” He swore as one of the main characters began fighting another, Logan leaning forward, hands on his thighs. “Oh, that’s not…” 

 “I know!” You agreed with him, and he saw you moving out of the corner of his eye, shifting on the couch to lean forward too, shoulders hunched. “He shouldn’t -” But both of you groaned as the man tripped, flying forward and into the weapon the other was holding, a spray of blood erupting from the wound. “Fuck!” As the scene faded to black and then cut to a commercial, you yelped and looked at Logan, a pained smile on your face. “Sorry, I’m -” 

 “Don’t apologize!” He laughed, head moving back and forth. “If you could feel my heartbeat right now, it’s racing.” You moved before you thought it through, he could see it in your eyes after the fact, but only a second later, your palm was pressed against Logan’s chest, touch firm. “See?” He stared at you in the low light, watching as your eyes left his face and then focused on your hand before moving back up, slowly. Yeah, I know that look, I… Your name left his lips, but before you had a chance to reply, the show started again and you pulled your hand away, Logan feeling the tips of your fingers curl just slightly before they were gone. 

 Throughout the next twenty minutes of the show, Logan again tried to focus on the TV in front of him, and he found it easier. But why? The final commercial break began, and you spoke, voice quiet. “What do you think’s going to happen, Logan? I don’t think he’s dead, I think he comes back right before -”

 “Oh, definitely.” He moved, realizing at the last second that he’d scooted closer to you instead of further away, his left knee nearly touching your bent right one. “There’s no way they let that be the last time we see him, he’s too important to kill off-screen, and we need to know what happens to that other asshole, so…” You laughed, giving him a smile. ‘

 “Thank you for having me over, this was a lot of fun.” Yeah, it is. “Maybe next season we …” But you cut yourself off, lips pressed together. By the time the next season airs, I’ll be… married. “Well, we can text each other at least, right? Yeah. Yeah, we can. 

 Neither of you spoke for the entire last segment of the show, and by the time the credits started rolling, Logan saw that you’d pulled the blanket off of your shoulders, balling it up on your lap and leaning forward, eyes fixed on the screen. You’d been right - the character wasn’t dead, showing up at the last possible second to finish the fight, though bloodied and unsteady on his feet, collapsing at the last second before the screen faded to black. Figures. At least someone got to get even with … The image of William flashed in his mind, the man’s nose bloody after Logan’s punch, the single hit not even coming close to making up for everything that the man had done to him. But it’s what I could do. And he’s gone. He’s not in Juliet’s life anymore, or Em’s, or… “Should -”

 “Shhh, Logan, there’s always an …” You stopped yourself as the after-credits scene began, the only thing visible on the screen the bare feet and lower legs of a woman, firmly planted on the floor next to a hospital bed. “Oh, my God.” You leaned further forward, mouth open. “Oh, my God.” The woman stood, one of her ankles wobbling, and then the camera began to pan upward. “Logan, it’s…” I know, it can only be… The music grew in intensity, and the final shot revealed that the woman in the hospital was the main character that had just been potentially killed off’s sister, who’d been missing for nearly the entire season. I wasn’t expecting… Before the screen faded to black again, the woman spoke only one word - her brother’s name. “Fuck!” You said it. You turned toward him, eyes still wide, and before Logan could react, you had both hands on his leg, squeezing. “Logan that was…” Both of you looked down at the same time, realizing what was happening, and as you swore under your breath and began pulling away, Logan moved, too. Don’t do it, Delos. 

 But he did, swiftly grabbing for your wrists before you could pull them away, his fingers circling them easily as he said your name. You froze, and Logan could feel your pulse racing beneath his fingertips. Is that from the show, or from… But he had an idea that it was from him, and the proximity that the two of you had. We’ve been walking this line all night. I shouldn’t have invited her over, this isn’t… “Tell me to let go.” He watched your lip quiver, eyes closing and your lashes brushing your cheeks. “I will, and we can -” Your grip on his leg tightened and for one brief moment, Logan thought that you weren’t going to speak. 

 “You should let go, Logan.” He heard the finality in your voice, though there was a slight waver to it. “You’re engaged, and I don’t … I can’t let …” When you met his eyes again, he saw that you were torn. Oh, if she knew, if she knew what … “Please, Logan.” He released you immediately, and you pulled your hands away, sitting straight up. “I need to go, I need to …” He waited until you’d stood to rise, once again reaching out, but this time, only touching you at the elbow briefly. “Logan, what -” 

 “I said I wasn’t a cheater, and I meant it.” You looked up at him, waiting. “This hasn’t ever been about me wanting to get you into bed, to have … this be some big secret.” He sniffled, glancing up at the ceiling. “I don’t even know if I’m just way fucking off base here, but I -” 

 “You’re not.” You swallowed hard. “Logan, this is … you’re …”  I’m not? Despite outward appearances, Logan doubted a lot of things in his life, including the way people acted toward him - and their reasons for the behaviors. But then… “But it doesn’t matter, Logan. Because you’ve got a fiancée. You’re getting married, and I’m not going to be …” He watched you fighting to get the words out, your eyes slightly unfocused. “That isn’t what I want to be to you, Logan.” 

 “It’s not what I want for you, either.” But you don’t.. You don’t know, and I can’t… “I didn’t invite you here tonight because I wanted to fuck you.” He was blunt, but felt he needed to be. “There are parts of my life that aren’t … I told you, before, that you can’t believe everything you read, and I don’t know what you’ve …” 

 “Logan, I don’t care what the magazines or the websites say about the way you are with the other people in your life. I don’t give a shit if you slept with the entire population of California, but I would like to believe that what you - yourself - have told me is true. That you’re a good man, and that you’re honest and that you aren’t a cheater.” He heard your tone change as you spoke, each word coming out stronger than the last. She means it, she isn’t bluffing, and it’s not for show. “You’re a good looking guy, Logan. Really good looking. And you’re funny. You’re smart. You’re everything that people tick off on those little boxes in their heads when they think of someone that they’d want to be with - even just physically.” 

 “You -” But you cut him off, stepping closer to him and reaching up with one hand, letting yourself touch his shoulder. What is she doing? 

 “I’m guilty of flirting with you, Logan. And I won’t apologize for it, because you did the same thing back.” I did. “But now I think that I need to … not do that anymore, because I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me.” He watched you frown, lips pressed together. “That’s not why I answered your calls, or why I text you back, or … the reason I came over here.” Goddamn this fucking NDA, I could just … “I’m going to go. I don’t want to keep digging myself deeper into this hole that I…” You closed your eyes, composing yourself. “Thank you for dinner. Thank you for having me over to use that giant TV. Thank you for -” 

 But it was Logan’s turn to cut you off, one finger pressed against your lips to silence you. Stop. “You’re welcome.” He pulled his hand away, focused on the sight of your surprise, eyes widening and your fingers flexing against his shoulder. “And for the record, I appreciate the fact that you think I check off those boxes, because a lotta people would be more than willing to tell you otherwise.” That got a small smile from you, but he also saw that you were still confused. Me too. “I was out of line. I shouldn’t have ...tonight? I shouldn’t have grabbed you, but it … happened.” And I’d do it again if you gave me the chance. “It won’t happen again.” Unless I find out a way to explain this to you. “So don’t apologize. And don’t worry - I’ll keep my hands to myself the next time I see you.” 

 He watched a look of disappointment fill your eyes - but then it was gone, replaced with one of relief. So her reactions depend on mine. Interesting. “Deal, Logan.” You pulled your hand away from his body and dropped it to your side. “But I really am going to go, it’s getting late, and I’ve got to work early. What time’s your flight?” Like nothin’... 

 “Ten. But I’m not flying commercial, so they can’t leave ‘til I get there.” Your lips twitched back into a smile, and Logan was happy to see the expression on your face again. “Private planes?” You raised one hand so that he could see it, using your pointer finger to draw a check mark in the air. Oh, you … But laughed before you did, nose wrinkling. “Ariella’s a lucky woman, no more TSA lines and all the snacks and drinks she wants?” She hasn’t been on one of the jets yet, actually… “Have a safe flight, Logan. And a good trip. I hope you can close the deal.”  

 “Already done, the trip’s a formality to show ‘em what they’re buying.” Your eyes lit up, and you congratulated him. “Nah, I had nothin’ to do with it, it was all Juliet. But still.” He grinned at you. “A week in the park? Always a good time.” 

 “I’ll take your word for it.” You turned away from him and started walking back toward the counter, where your bag was sitting. “Hey, do me a favor.” You turned toward him as you slung your purse over your shoulder, reaching up to push your hair away from your face. “I looked it up, and I know you can’t take pictures or anything of the park, and you can’t bring anything back with you, either.” He nodded. “So when you’re out there? If you have time? Focus on one thing that you’ve never really paid attention to. And when you get back, if … when we talk again?” You smiled at him, as if the previous 20 minutes hadn’t happened. “Tell me all about it, and make me think I’m right there with you.” You could be, maybe. 

 “I can do that.” He stayed where he was, watching as you stepped to the door. But before you pulled it open, Logan called your name, out, taking two steps toward you. What are you going to say? “Let me know you got home, alright?” You assured him you would and then you were gone, the door closing softly behind you. He groaned and dropped down onto the couch, covering his face with his hands. “What are you doing Delos? She isn’t … you’re not …” With difficulty, he pushed you from his mind, standing and walking down the hallway and into his room. You gotta get sleep, you’ve got meetings while you’re flying out. 

 But by the time Logan climbed into bed a few minutes later, his mind was racing with thoughts of the upcoming trip - and of the first Host he was going to take to bed. It’ll be about goddamn time, it’s been over a month since I’ve… Thoughts interrupted by the quiet chiming of his phone, Logan reached over to grab it, blinking at the bright screen in the darkness. She made it. 

 Home. Thanks again for tonight. Can’t believe she’s alive … next season’s going to be B A D for the people that killed her brother. 

 He laughed at your message, typing a quick reply out and then setting the phone back down on his nightstand. It is. He let out a deep breath, rolling onto his side and closing his eyes again. Maybe Clementine? Or Angela … if she’s still at the Mesa intake hub. 

 --- 

 By Wednesday, you were no longer mortified by what had happened on the couch at Logan’s, and as you thought more about it, you realized that it had been for the best. He knows I won’t act on anything, and I know he’s… not a cheater. You hadn’t meant for the flirting to get to the point it had, nor had you meant to actually overstep and touch him the way you had, but you’d gotten caught up in the moment. Who wouldn’t… especially with someone like him?

 It could have been the show, the beer you’d had, or maybe simply the closeness you felt to the man you were barely getting to know, but you’d put your hand over his heart - and then against his leg - without thinking… and then when you had, it had been too late. 

 You were attracted to Logan - physically, emotionally, irrationally, because you knew it wouldn’t go anywhere, but for a few moments, you’d felt the same coming from him, too. It isn’t possible. It can’t be possible. Not from him, not with … not with me. 

 There had been a few stories about Logan and Ariella online; pictures of them in the airport and  then out at dinner, comments about their upcoming wedding, a closeup of her ring, glinting on her finger as they sat together at a table. He’s got her, so why would he… But Logan’s past wasn’t a secret either, the numerous times he’d been spotted out with different men and women, the stories that they told about him - sex in hotels and clubs, hooking up in private cars and rooms, drug use, Logan blowing exhausting amounts of money on meaningless bullshit - and a small part of you thought that maybe old habits didn’t die completely, and part of him was still looking for some sort of thrill before he settled down for good. But he said he wasn’t… 

 You sighed, spinning in your desk chair, eyes on the clock. I wonder what he’s doing right now. You didn’t know the exact location of the Mesa or the parks, but you knew that it was somewhere near the Philippines, meaning that for Logan, it was already the following morning. Bet he’s sleeping. Or… You’d also read - and seen - Logan do interviews about the Hosts and his interactions with them, and you knew that he took advantage of his time in the parks. Does he consider that infidelity? Interested, you glanced again at the clock and then turned to your desk, quickly clicking through your emails to make sure you had nothing to do. I’ll just … You pulled your phone out, opened Reddit, and started doing research. I know he’s not everyone else, but I wonder what other people think of sleeping with the… 

 Nearly a half hour later, you were floored by the fact that it was relatively evenly split between people that considered going to bed with Hosts cheating and those that didn’t care since they weren’t real people, and couldn’t form lasting attachments. But even though the Hosts can’t remember things, the people… Sighing, you put your phone back down, tapping your fingers on the desk. I wonder how I’d feel about my husband or boyfriend or...

 There were pictures on the subreddit that were taken from the original Delos and park sites, and you had to admit that all of the Hosts pictured were gorgeous - men and women alike. So it was perfect for him. You thought of Logan in the park - riding horses and shooting guns and hitting an unsuspecting Host with his full smile, and realized that they - unlike you - wouldn’t have told him to stop, wouldn’t have been able to resist him, because they were designed not to. So it’s not a challenge, then. You tapped your fingers again, narrowing your eyes at the screen and then standing, deciding to take your break.  I wonder how real those things are, anyway. Does it feel real? 

 Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed your phone, picking it up and unlocking it, navigating to Logan’s text messages. I know you’re in the park and won’t answer for a while, but … I’m sitting here and wondering: how real are they? When you’re with the Hosts, does it feel like a human? I could just wait and ask, but if I do, I’d talk myself out of it. Do people get pissed about what happens in the parks? It’s so strange to me. And I’m rambling now so I apologize but … I have to know, Logan. You sent the message and then laughed at yourself, wondering how many times he’d been asked. But I’ll never have the chance to find out, I’m just… curious. Stepping outside, you turned your face up toward the sun, smiling. Wonder what Ariella thinks of it. Or if she’s been to the parks with him. But after a few minutes, even that thought had disappeared, replaced with only more questions about the parks and the Hosts - and about the design and planning behind them. 

--- 

 You were surprised to get a text from Juliet the following day, the woman simply saying hello and asking how you’d been. Weird. I wonder if Logan asked her to message me? But you replied, not thinking anything of it, and were shocked to find that Juliet didn’t mention Logan once the entire time you spoke, trading messages back and forth for nearly an hour. She invited you over for lunch on Sunday, which you accepted, especially after she told you Emily would be there. I want to meet her, everything I’ve heard is … 

 It was less of a surprise that Juliet wanted to be friendly to you than it was that Logan seemed to want to get to know you, so on Saturday morning, you headed back over to the house, a small bag packed with your bathing suit just in case.Juliet greeted you at the door, a small girl with Logan’s dark, straight hair peeking around the corner of the wall that led into the kitchen. She’s got his eyes. “Come in!” Juliet stepped to the side, waving her hand. “Emily Grace, come and meet my friend.” 

 You watched as the little girl stepped fully into the hallway, dressed in a frilly green dress, a small stuffed horse in one hand. “She’s really cute, Juliet.” Crouching down, you smiled at the little girl, saying hello. “I like your dress, Emily.” She stopped a foot or so away from you, tilting her head to one side and staring. That’s … Logan does that. “And your horse, too. Does she have a name?” 

 “She might not say anything to you, it takes a minute for her to -” Juliet spoke quietly, but Emily interrupted her, holding out the stuffed animal. 

 “His name is Bubble.” Bubble? “He lives at Grandpa’s.” You looked up at Juliet, even as you felt the material of the horse bumped into your arm. “Bubble.” 

 “It’s nice to meet you, Bubble.” You took it from her, holding it carefully as Emily eyed you, and you had the sneaking suspicion that if you stood up too quickly, the girl would not have been happy. Well. “Thank you, Emily. He’s a very … I like his spots.” Handing her the stuffed animal back, you watched as she hurried out of the room and back toward the room you’d sat in with Juliet the last time you were at the house, yelling the words ‘thank you’ as she retreated. “Bubble?” 

Juliet laughed, closing the door. “Yes. Bubble. That’s the name of the horse that my dad bought her, and that one … the stuffed one? It’s from Logan, and he had it made to look like the real thing.” You felt a surge of affection for the man and it made your entire body warm, but you stayed quiet. “She’s still too little to do anything but pony rides, but my dad, he… he’s trying to be a better grandparent than he was a parent, so it’s something.” 

 “Your dad has a farm?” Juliet laughed as the two of you walked into the living room, the woman shaking he head. 

 “No, he lives in Malibu, on the coast. No room for horses. He boards them at a place in Calabasas, so it’s pretty close.” The two of you settled onto the couches, Emily quietly playing in one corner of the room. “Logan and I grew up riding, and he thought it would be something that Em and I could do with my … my ex, and…” She trailed off, her eyes on the little girl. “Do you know about William?” 

 “I know you got divorced, and it wasn’t a friendly split.” You chewed on your lip. “Logan hasn’t said much about him, just that they didn’t get along, and he was happy when you guys separated.” 

 ‘Logan was actually a big reason why we split.” She looked at you, keeping her voice down. “William wasn’t a good guy. I… I saw it, but didn’t see it, you know? Logan tried to tell me, but I didn’t …” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over now, and I was able to save my relationship with my brother, so…” Oh, I never would have… You stayed quiet, eyes on the woman because you were unsure of what to say. “And I have Emily, so it wasn’t all bad.” 

 “She seems like a good kid. Logan talks about her a lot.” She laughed, leaning back against the cushions and tucking both legs beneath her. “You’re on his lock screen.” 

 “Oh, you’ve seen his phone’s lock screen?” She arched an eyebrow at you. “Usually, he won’t let that phone -”

 “I put my number in it for him, before he left the hotel?” Don’t make this out to be more than it is, Juliet. “But after he handed it to me, I got distracted and we were talking, and it went dark, so he had to unlock it again, and it was you guys.” You shrugged. “No big deal.” 

 “I’m just giving you a hard time.” She called out to Emily, the little girl turning her head back toward the two of you. “Tell me when you’re hungry, alright?” With a solemn nod, the little girl turned back to her toys, and Juliet went quiet again. “He’ll be back tomorrow night.” 

 “Logan will?” Why is she telling me this? “He said he was going to be gone for at least a week, so I figured he’d -” Juliet shook her head. 

 “Nope. He got a message out through one of the park’s access points to let us know he was coming home a couple days early.” I hope everything’s … “One of the new clients got sick. It wasn’t anything to do with the park, so it’s not a problem, but he just wasn’t feeling well, so they all decided to head back to Sweetwater.” Sweetwater? “That’s the main entrance. Everyone gets dropped off there, because it’s really tame compared to other parts of the park. They were already close, so instead of spending a night there and then catching the train, they just …” She held up her hands. “Left early.” 

 “I don’t think I could imagine leaving a place like that up until the last possible second.”  You spoke without pause, wincing at the end of your sentence. “I mean, it seems like it would be so overwhelming, so much to see and do.” 

 “It is.” She eyed you. “But the more you’re there, the less… real it gets. You see the cracks, see the … truth.” She gave you a small smile. “I could get you in. It’s not a big deal. Send you off on a weeklong -”

 “Logan said the same thing. He asked me if I wanted to go, and I don’t…” You bit down on the corner of your lip. “I don’t think that’s a place to go alone, Juliet.” You shrugged. “And like I told him, my friends and I aren’t really your target demographic financially, so…” She smiled as you finished. “What?” 

 “He asked if you wanted to go to the park?” Yeah, why? It’s a huge part of his life, of course he’d want to know if I was … “He really does want to be your friend, then.” 

 “What?” But she didn’t answer, as Emily’d made her way over to the woman and put both hands on her leg. 

 “Lunch.” She paused, blinking twice. “Please.” Juliet wrinkled her nose and leaned down, her arms going around Emily’s waist and lifting her, standing in the same motion. 

 “Come on, we can keep talking while I make lunch.” 

 --- 

 You hadn’t gotten to continue your conversation about Logan while Juliet got everything ready, but you hadn’t stopped thinking about what the woman had said. Why does that mean… it shouldn’t… he’s just … 

 The three of you ate outside at the table on the patio, Emily devouring grilled chicken, avocado and fresh fruit while you and Juliet had salads with the same ingredients, and you were surprised at just how relaxed you were. As you ate, your eyes wandered over the yard, landing on the pool where you and Logan had spent the better part of the afternoon before moving to the fire pit, where you’d ended the night before he’d taken you home. We spent all damn day together, and it… 

 By the time Emily was ready to take a nap, you were slightly tired too, and instead of going back inside, you and Juliet stayed on the second patio in the bar area, stretched out on the outdoor furniture. “You going to ask me about it?” Her words interrupted your thoughts, and you turned your head toward Juliet, confused. “What I said about you and my brother?” 

 “About him being my friend?” She nodded. “I hadn’t planned on it, I -” But I want to know.

 “Logan and I grew up really … privileged. My mom had some money, but my dad worked really hard to build Delos from the ground up, and it paid off. He’s an asshole, and wasn’t always the best father - especially to Logan - but he’s a good businessman.” This has nothing to do with … “We had a lot of opportunities that other kids didn’t. Trips and clothes and cars and … and when we were old enough? We took advantage of it.” She eyed you. “Everyone knows about Logan’s teenage years and his 20’s, but mine?” Her eyes closed. “They were just as bad, I was just more private about it.” 

 “Really?” You laughed. “Juliet, I wouldn’t have -” 

 “I didn’t have a lot of the same problems as Logan.” She let out a breath. “He’s always been the better looking one, the … in demand one, the person that …” She fluffed her hair out, head moving back and forth. “Everyone wants Logan, and it’s been like that since we were kids, so he’s always been the focus, especially after our mom died. He’s a couple years older, so everyone paid attention to him, and I was just in the background.” 

 “You wanted people to pay attention to you.” She agreed.

 “I did, but it was exhausting. I had to try to be like him, and for him, it was just … that’s how he was. How he is.” Why does this … she’s… “So I had a couple years where I tried some things and dated some people, and it just … wasn’t what I wanted. I’d had enough of trying to get people to like me in the same way that everyone seemed to like him … so I just stopped.” She’d stood as she spoke, walking back behind the bar and emerging with two large bottles of water, handing one to you. “But Logan’s the opposite. He couldn’t turn it off if he wanted to - so if he was pushing people away, I knew there was something wrong.” 

 “I don’t understand.” She waited until you’d taken a large drink. “How does that -” 

 “You know about his... struggles, right?” She said the words slowly, as if they pained her, but you told her that you did. “So when that all happened? I saw the change in him before anyone else did. It was like he was a different person. I didn’t know what he was doing at first, but I knew something was up. He wasn’t… he was off, even with me, and …” She frowned, staring at the pool’s sparkling surface. “He just wasn’t Logan. It got a little better after William and I got divorced, but everything that he went through? It changed him.” 

 “Juliet, I’m sorry. I still don’t understand.” You wanted to - and didn’t want to offend her by not picking up on what she was saying. “I -” 

 “I know that Logan really wants to be your friend, because he’s treating you the way that he would have treated someone close to him before any of this happened - before William, before the park, before he switched from recreational drug use to … to not caring whether or not he’d wake up after going to bed.” Hearing her put it so bluntly made you gasp, one hand rising to cover your mouth. Oh, Logan. “He doesn’t lie. He always tells the truth and says what he’s really thinking. But that doesn’t mean that he makes an effort, if that makes sense.” She sat up, adjusting her position on the couch to face you. “And with you, he’s making an effort.” 

 “Juliet, we don’t… it’s only been a couple weeks. He’s not doing any -” 

 “No, that’s just it, though.” She licked her lips. “How do I explain this to you without making him sound like a …” Scrubbing a hand over her face, Juliet took a deep breath. “If Logan doesn’t want you in his life, he won’t make any effort to keep you there. He  doesn’t need to, because there’s always going to be someone else to step in, even now.” Even though he’s engaged, you mean. “He’s different now. And I know that I keep saying that, and you have no idea what it …” she swore, and for a second, you felt as though you were sitting outside with Logan and not his sister. “Can I be blunt with you? Like, really blunt?” You nodded, narrowing your eyes. “A few years ago, if you wouldn’t have slept with Logan when he got you and your friend back to that hotel room? You probably wouldn’t have had another chance to spend time with him.” 

 Sucking in a breath, you stared at her. Hearing it makes it sound … “Juliet, I -” 

 “And if you had seen him again? And you’d turned him down a second time?” She laughed, the sound carrying on the warm, dry air. “He would have forgotten about you before he’d even left the room.” She leaned in, her fingertips pressed into the cushions you were sitting on. “I can see it, even now, the way you’re reacting to how I’m… you like him.” 

 “Of course I like him, Juliet, he’s -”

 “That’s not what I mean.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean that you like him, as in you find him attractive and -”

 “He’s engaged, Juliet. It doesn’t matter how good looking I think he is, or how much I like spending time with him. We’re going to be friends, and … that’s it.” She watched you without speaking, waiting for you to continue. “So what changed him? Meeting Ari-” Juliet’s laugh was louder than you’d expected, her eyes closing before her head tilted back. 

 “No, Logan was still… Logan long after the two of them met for the first time.” So he wasn’t sleeping with just her, even after they...

 “But you said he was -”

 “Yes. But he was still my brother, still… himself, under all of the other bullshit. He did what he knew, what he was used to, and that didn’t… to tell you the truth,” she continued, moving closer. “It’s a little strange, even now, to see him so …” She curled her lip. “But sometimes, I think that this Logan? The Logan that we’ve gotten to really know since he got clean and involved in Em’s life? This might actually be the real Logan.” 

 “As opposed to… what?” You were confused, because you knew that in her mind, she was making perfect sense, but to you, she was all over the place. “You seemed to think that him being different was …” 

 “It is a good thing.” Her expression changed, Juliet growing much more thoughtful. “For the most part.” What does … “I love not seeing him trying to hide his arms, or… or not wearing clothes are are slightly too big to hide how much weight he’s lost. Seeing him back where he belongs - at the head of Delos - is something that I hoped for even when I was married to William, and not worrying about seeing him in the tabloids because of someone new, or a scandal  every other week is …” Juliet gave you a smile. “But at what cost?” Cost? What? “Seeing him with Ariella is …” Juliet paused. “You’ll see, if you ever meet her.”

 “Why would I meet his fiancée, Juliet? That doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need to -” I don’t want to meet her, I don’t want to… “From what he says, she isn’t even here often, so there’d be no …”

 “You’re right.” The woman relaxed against the couch cushions, her eyes moving over the yard. “Can I ask you something, though?” She met your eyes again, a serious look in them. “If you’d met Logan, and he wasn’t engaged, what would you …” Is she really asking me this? Is she… 

 You wanted to be honest with the woman. Her affirmation that Logan was, in fact honest - and her willingness to tell you about herself and her life gave you confirmation that the Delos siblings valued honesty above all else. But does it … “I wouldn’t have slept with him after meeting him at Whole Foods, I can tell you that much.” She snorted and you continued. “I knew of Logan before we met, so I would have put two and two together even without the magazines in front of my face, but … I don’t know.” You began picking at the fringe on the hem of your shorts. “I have no interest in being a one night stand, or doing something for a story, or for the … thrill of it.” 

 “So even if he was single, you wouldn’t have tried to -” Shaking your head, you drew your lower lip into your mouth, thinking. 

 “Not right away, no. And if that meant that I lost out on my chance to do more than talk with him?” Your shoulders rose and fell. “I don’t mean I need to be in a relationship with someone for things to be physical, but I don’t make it a habit of picking men up at the grocery store, or sleeping with them while my friends are passed out in the other room.” Taking a deep breath and holding it for a few seconds, you blinked. “And if what you’re saying, and what he says is true, if he’d been single, then he probably wouldn’t even have looked twice at me, because he would have had plenty of options.” You weren’t fishing for compliments, nor were you putting yourself down - it was the truth. “Everyone that Logan’s been seen with is -”

 “Using him.” She spoke plainly, her words surprising you. “He knows it, I know it, my dad knows it … they know it, too. Sure, there mighta been a couple of them that weren’t 100% doing that, but … it doesn’t matter how pretty you are, or how handsome if all you’re going to do is fuck someone for bragging rights. He’s a fucking person, and not one of the Hosts.” Is that really what it’s like for him? What it’s been like for him? “I appreciate you being honest with me.”

 “I have no reason not to be, Juliet.” You took a long drink from your water bottle, thinking. “Same with him. Why would I lie to someone just because I thought it would make me … that’s unnecessary.” You set the bottle down, holding your hands together on your lap. And I’m not a good enough liar. “I’ve got nothing to gain in this, not really. And I definitely don’t want to be another person that hurts him, or takes advantage of him, or …” 

 “I knew I liked you.” She reached forward, checking the time on her phone. “Em’s gonna be waking up in a little while, so we should go back inside, but …” Juliet watched you for a few seconds, her warm brown eyes searching your face. “You’re not like … you know what? I think you’re going to be good for my brother.” Though you appreciated the comment, you felt slight disappointment at it. If she thinks that about me, then what does that say about everyone else he knows? 

 --- 

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[bi-robins-club]

jason had just settled onto his couch with a jane austen novel and his favourite peach iced tea when damian crept in through his window. he sighed internally and decided to simply ignore him. he had told damian to use the front door (nevermind the fact that jason rarely used the door) and more importantly? he was freaking comfortable. after a few minutes as jason flipped idly through the book, damian cleared his throat. jason sighed again, outwardly this time and reluctantly dragged his eyes up to his youngest brother. baby bat was shivering slightly from the rain outside and jason simply rasied an eyebrow as he sipped at his tea. scowling, dami stomped over to jasons bathroom to dry off. he rolled his eyes. how dramatic. damian was acting like he sentenced titus and alfred the cat to their deaths instead of how he was actually saving jason from deep cleaning his rain soaked carpet. (he was still going to deep clean the carpet the next time he tidied up but still)

when damian stalked back into the room, looking less like a wet, angry kitten and more like a dry, angry kitten, jason titled his head back and established eye contact.

"so what brings you over to my neck of the woods, demon spawn?"

instead of snapping back like jason expected, damian simply stood there looking extremely uncomfortable. he shuffled his feet, opened his mouth then closed it and sat next to jason on the couch he splurged way too much on.

"i don't know how to tell you this" dami began, hesitant "but i believe harper is experiencing thoughts of suicide"

jason jerked up, almost knocking over his tea (and what a damn waste that would be) before fixing damian with a look. he hadnt noticed anything different in roy lately but he knew more than anyone that depression acted strangely and was hard to pinpoint. his mind raced with thoughts of why roy might be suddenly suicidal, from a sudden relapse to not getting a happy meal toy included in his 3.99 box of clogged arteries. "why do you say that, damian?"

"i have been keeping an eye on his health since he became a close confidant to you and last night he said something worrying that i am still not able to parse the meaning of" jason smiled lightly at that, in damian speak he was basically declaring that he cared for roy- if for nothing else than for how happy he made jason. still he shook it off and asked what roy had said that was worrying dami.

"he was patrolling last night" jason knew that. roy had been picking up his patrols since jason had a nasty leg wound. it was the reason he wasn't out tonight. "and he was on the phone with an unknown person, though i am inclined to believe it was either Starfire or Canary" okay, still not surprising "and then he said that the only place he could die happy was between your thighs" oh hello blue screen. yes jasons mind was in the middle of rebooting but could you hurry it along? he almost missed what damian said next. "not only does he wish for death upon himself, he wishes for you to give it to him!"

"damian" jason managed, frantically trying to figure out a way to explain to his baby brother without including his sex life. "uhh its just an expression"

damians face brightened up slightly. "really? he does not wish to smother himself between your thighs?"

"yeah, its like...like just a way to say... mind your business? mmhmm" he struggled to get out, pulling an explanation out of his ass.

"you have told father to mind his business a thousand times but i dont recal you ever using that one. is it new?"

oh god. jason would rather die again than continue this conversation.

"uhh its only used if you're close to someone" jason didnt know what he didnt wrong but dami's eyes widened in clear worry. "i thought you and father were reconnecting? has something happened? are you fighting again?"

well shit. jason had not thought this one through. fuck roy and fuck his mile wide kink that centered around jasons thighs. he was going to kill him. and he wouldnt even use his thighs. "oh nonono dami we're fine, just not as close as me and roy" he hedged, pleading to gods he didnt believe in to stop this conversation with whatever means necessary. strike him dead if need be but *please*. damians eyes narrowed "and exactly how close are you with harper, jason?" jason stared in disbelief. how had his nice relaxing evening turned into such a shitshow? damian was fine with roy when he and jason were just friends but now that he was (correctly) assuming a relationship, his over protective instincts were kicking in? christ. he remembered how when dick and babs finally started dating (again), damian seemingly lost all respect for her and called her an evil harlot more than once.

thankfully he was saved by answering in the form of the best person jason had ever met aka duke thomas. he announced his presence by awkwardly coughing. jason met his dark eyes and mouthed 'help me' over damians head. duke smiled as if it was getting pulled out of him by torture but nodded.

"hey dames, dick wanted you to join him by the docks when you finished up here" damian scowled "cant you see i am clearly not finished yet"

"hah, well dick was facing up against scarecrow and i think he needed some back up but you know him"

"yes, he wont admit he needs help when he very clearly does" damian sighed "very well, ill go check on dick. you stay and question jason. " and with that damian clambered out the window and after he disappeared from sight, jason threw his head back to stare at his ceiling and groaned. duke laughed at him.

"hey daisy duke?" duke grumbled at the nickname and jason cracked a smile "how did you know i needed back up?" duke winced and ran a hand over his dreads. he made a face and jasons soul was slowly draining out of his body. "oh haha funny story" duke rocked back on his feet and faked laughed "damians com was still connected to the channel" jason froze.

"who was on the channel oh my god" duke smiled thinly and his hand paused on his head. "other than me? everyone." jason buried his head in his hands and let out a high pitched whine. duke consolingly rubbed his shoulder. this is why jason loved him. he hadn't even laughed at jason like tim, dick or steph would or started plotting death like damian started to. he and cass would just offer support. jasons favorite brother and sister right here folks. duke sat down beside him

"listen. i know what it's like to be outed when youre not ready and when i heard damian grilling you about roy, i thought i would help" jason turned and stared at his brother. duke was staring at his hands and avoiding eye contact. "i got caught with a boy when i was 15 in high school. its pretty shitty to be gay and poor in a homophobic neighbourhood but its worse to be gay, poor and black." jason knocked shoulders with him. "if you tell me the name of whatever asshat outed you, I'll shoot him for you." duke let out a waterly laugh. "they kept bullying me for being gay but if they even listened, they would have realised that im pan" he joked "its a completely different thing after all". jason snorted

"that was horrible"

duke winced "yeah, it was wasnt it. im bad at this" it was jasons turn to avoid eye contact now.

"talia once caught me with a league operative. a male operative. i was so paranoid for days until i caught shiva leaving her rooms. i got the courage to tell her i was bi and she just patted my cheek and asked how my training was going."

duke huffed out a laugh. "bruce gives you shit but i for one think your lesbians moms are cool"

jason laughed with him "just wait until you meet Ducra. shes a badass"

"ducra?" he questioned with a weird look. "how many moms do you actually have? i knew about diana and your assassin moms but thats a new name" jason burst into laughter at the expression on dukes face. "its not fair man. steph is the only other one with a mom and you have four! you need to share" jason choked on his laughter and shoved duke.

"first of all, its only *three*. ducra is like my badass abuela"

"dont you already have a badass grandma? have you forgotten about Ma Gunn? she threatened to shoot bruce in the dick last week!"

"yes well excuse you i need strong female role models in my life, fuck you" the two of them continued to joke around for a little while longer before jason caught a flash of black kelvar outside his window and sighed. duke followed his eyes and smiled before patting jasons shoulder and pushing off. "have fun with the one strong male role model in your life. im going to see if cass needs help" both of them knew that cass wouldn't need help but jason accepted the excuse for what it was. "me and steph are still coming over to study tomorrow. college is kicking my ass and i need you to explain this English assignment to me"

jason scoffed "im not writing your essay for you"

"eh worth a try. bye jace" duke gave a two fingered salute and slipped out the window. jason took the brief reprieve to sip his tea and mourned when he discovered the ice had melted and watered down the peach taste. for the third time that night, someone crept into his window. oh well. third times the charm right? jason wasn't going to acknowledge bruce until he said something himself. it was a repeat of damian. jasom read his book as it got increasingly uncomfortable.

"jason."

"bruce" jason drawled, not lifting his eyes from his book. bruce grunted like the neanderthal he was and jason finally huffed out a heaving breath before marking his page and looking up. bruce looked supremely uncomfortable. actually his face looked exceedingly neutral but jason knew how to read bruce and that was the brow furrow of how do i deal with jason without fucking it up? jason was well famailairsed with that one.

"you know i love you" jasons own eyebrows rose. bruce only said 'i love you' like four times a year tops. and he usually never wasted it on jason. bruce deflated at whatever face jason must have made. goddamn it. this was why jason always fought with bruce with his helmet on, he couldnt control his facial expressions for shit. "no you dont know that." bruce smiled thinly and to jasons suprise, quickly crossed the room and knelt, placing his hands on jasons shoulders.

"even if you dont believe it, and its my own fault that you do and i hate that i ever caused you to even doubt my love for you, i swear that i do, jay lad" jason was completely frozen. he had expected bruce to yell at him for letting roy go unchecked on patrol last night and how irresponsible he was yada yada, not this declaration of feelings that he had no clue how to deal with. he couldnt remember the last time bruce called him that. it had to have been when he was still in those scaly green panties and pixie boots. and not the adult verison that jason picked up from a halloween store on a whim just to see roys eyes.

bruce sighed and drew jason into a hug. when bruces shoulder started getting wet, jason was horrified to realise he was crying. "i wanted you to know that i wouldnt love you any less for loving a man. but you have to know that i love you in the first place for that to happen" bruce said self deprecating.

"shut the fuck up" jason said sniffling and gripping his dads back. "i hate you"

bruce laughed softly at him before pressing a kiss to the side of jasons head. "i want you to know that i expect roy-and you- over at dinner on sunday. i need to meet the man that stole my babys heart" he murmured. jason laughed wetly "youve already met roy, you just want to con me into actually coming to family dinner"

bruce smiled "that was before i knew you two were dating. roy needs to know what hes getting into" jason leaned back enough to stare into bruces eyes and weakly punched him in the chest "dont threaten my boyfriend. he refused to look at me for two weeks after t was done with him" bruce sighed longingly "its times like this when i remember what caused me to love talia in the first place."

"bruce!" the aforementioned man laughed and hugged jason tightly before stepping back a few steps. "Sunday dinner. you and roy. 8 pm." on a whim jason reached out and snagged bruces hand. "hey" he started, swallowing "you wanna stay for a while? we could watch a movie or something" bruces eyes softened and he nodded. "let me change out of the suit."

and if roy had crept in after patrol only to see jason napping on his dads chest to a shitty action movie playing in the background and took several pictures, well that bruces fault for not waking up when roy stumbled it. (nevermind the fact that bruce had every single one of those pictures saved on his phone) (nevermind the fact that after roy put his phone away, he was greeted to the sight of batman glaring at him as he twisted a batarang around his fingers. it was sorta ruined by the fact that jasons curls was hiding the lower half of his face but roy was still adequately terrified)

[fleetwoodmak99]

Primed for Sin (2/10)

SUMMARY: This is Arthur's point of view of meeting Elena and the effect it has on him. Arthur doesn't really know what he's gonna do but he doesn't know that she's the one.

WARNING: Delusions, masturbation, smut, stalking, smoking weed and mental illness (Borderline Personality Disorder and PBA)

Please kindly do not read this if these offends or triggers anyone. Im always here to listen if someone needs it.

Hey again. This is part 2 of idk how many parts to the Primed for Sin story. Like I said before idk where I'm gonna go with this but this chapter is gonna be more dark when it talk about stalking and mental illness. I decided to have Elena too have stuggles with mental illness as well because I felt it better represent what I'm going through with my own mental health. So I apologize if I offend anyone or if anyone feels misrepresented.

Primed for Sin Part 1

Arthur could feel his whole body ache as he sat on the couch in the apartment he shared with his mother. His legs bounced as he sat back on the couch. One of his hands coming up to his mouth to take a drag of a cigarette while the other one held the boys toy train. He could feel another one of his laughing fits hit once again.

He couldn't help the raging fits of laughter that escaped him as he felt the sharp pain of anxiety shocking his body. He remembers the events that had happen earlier that day.

He tried to think of something else, anything else but he couldn't stop himself from thinking of how beautiful that girl was when she had smiled at him earlier. How she smelled of peppermint, it reminded him of Christmas. Even though he never really was able to really celebrate it, something about the season always brought him comfort.

He felt his pain starting to ease as the laughter once again started to die down for what seemed to be the millionth time today. Ever since this morning he's been having laughing attacks left and right. He squeezed the toy train even harder. His thoughts beginning to roam again. He didn't know anything about that girl but he knew he needed to know more. No, craved to know more. There was nothing that would keep him from her. He already knew this, he just didn't know how far he would take himself for it.

He imagined that she would be the perfect good girl for him. She's already seemed to be a mother figure which delighted Arthur. Maybe one day she would be round with his child.

No. Stop it Arthur, he thought to himself. There will be plenty of time for that. For now, he wanted to know more about the boy she was with. Who was he to her? Her son? Has she been with another man? Is she a virgin?

The thoughts ran rapid through his head as he started to spiral. Nothing made him more upset than thinking about another man's hands on her. So he did what his thoughts told him to do. He gathered information on her. Anything he could find. The easiest way to do this was to follow the woman as she goes about her day. He knew it was wrong, the small voice in his head told him so but there there even larger voices telling him to go through.

After a few days of this, he was able to find out more about the sweet girl. Her name was Elena Wheeler. She worked at a comedy club, one that Arthur had gone to often. She did singing gigs on the side while she bartended for the most part. Arthur noticed she like to cover 50s songs as well as write some of her own songs. Arthur would find himself relax while enjoying her voice each night. She would work this job most days while the boy would go to a behavioral center for children.

The boy on the other hand wasn't her son but her younger brother, yet she was the one who had custody over him. This was most likely so he too wouldn't end up in the system.

This gave Arthur some relief as his virgin theory might be true. He'd watch the two of them interact with one another. Almost being jealous of the way they played together. He wish he had that with someone. He will, soon.

It was obvious that the boy had some major abandonment issues. He would cry every time she would kiss him goodbye. Only calming down hours later when he's starts watching a cartoon or until she returns. But Arthur could also tell that Elena had some issues of her own. She too would be antsy every time she was away from the child. Never allowing herself to rest until she knew she was ok.

Arthur would watch her through the window of the complex building. One thing he did notice immediately was the constant hits from a bong. He was honestly surprised how much she could smoke. If she were drinking, he would actually be concerned for her. The girl was small and shouldn't take much to get a high yet there she was coughing up a storm from hitting it so much. Michael was in the other room watching his Thomas show. Arthur couldn't help but wonder why she did this so much. Maybe she was lonely too.

Arthur was able to keep track of her favorite things, what upset her, what made her happy. Everything and anything. He would notice her moods would change frequently. She would be happy one minute and crying the next especially when she was away from Michael. He could see her trying her best to hold it together for the little guy. He really did. His heart leaped just watching it. His heart leaped even more when he saw he watching the Murry Show being played most nights after putting Michael to bed. She's perfect.

Arthur started to understand her more when he was able to get his hands on some of her records. He won't say how but let's just say he has his ways aka breaking and entering. He was glad he did when he saw an entire file dedicated to her.

She had been diagnosed with Boderline personality disorder when she was 18. She herself had been in behavioral centers for having difficulty controlling her anger. She also lived in foster home for most of her childhood it seemed since both her parents abandoned her when she was around 4 years old. Even though her parents had started coming in and out of her life when she turned 18, she never really gained anything from it.

It saddened Arthur to see she had had to struggle so much but that just seems to be a common theme around here in Gotham.

_________________________________________

After a long day of clowning around at his extremely emotionally draining job. He had done his nightly routine of watching Murray and cooking for his mother. After what seemed like an eternity, his mother had finally drifted off into sleep. He felt himself finally relax and with this he let his mind wander.

He wanted to see her. Just see her face. That's all he needed. Even if it was through a window in the freezing cold in the ally way behind the building. Luckily she didn't live on a high floor. That was enough for him to take action.

Arthur quietly grabbed his coat and shoes as he slipped out the door and into the cold. He shivered as the coolness hit his body.

Finally making it to his usual spot for that last few days and set himself up, only looking up when he was finished. His eyes focused on Elenas apartment window. It was dark with the only light coming from the TV in one of the bedrooms. He figured she had put Michael to bed because he could see her all alone, he paused, in only a gray tank top and black panties.

His heart started to race and he could already feel his throat starting to react. The laughter was ready to pour out.

Maybe this isn't a good idea, he thought to himself as he started to reach down to grab his things.

Yet he still couldn't tear his eyes from what he was seeing. Her tangled in the covers with her short brown hair all messy from moving around. It certainly was a sight to see. His cock agreed as it immediately started becoming hard.

The small voice in his head told him to stop. He knew it was wrong to watch her but when her hand started to move up and down her bare leg he knew he couldn't turn away. It was like she knew he was there almost. Like she was putting on a show just for him.

He grew harder and harder the more he watched. Watching her eventually making her way down to her panties, slipping her hand just inside. It didn't take long for her face to start turning and her body to start squirming. It didn't take long before he became hard enough it started to hurt leaning against his pants. He wanted to relieve himself so bad. More importantly he wanted to relieve himself in her but knew that couldn't happen right now.

He couldn't take it anymore when she started to grab at the sheets of the bed. He pulled out his cock that was already leaking with precum. Arthur didn't get a lot of action so when he did he just couldn't contain himself.

Arthur placed his dick in his hand as he started to slowly pump himself. He tried to match the same movements as her, trying to think it was her hand instead. He imagined they would be gentle and soft. His were the total opposite.

He imagined her saying his name. Whispering as she cums or screaming it as he fucked her. He knew he wasn't gonna be able to last long with all these dirty thoughts roaming his head. To his delight she couldn't seem to either. Elenas back was arched as her hands started to tease her breasts underneath her tank top.

He was right as her body started to shake, her chest move up and down swiftly as she starts to come down from her high. This gave Arthur the silent ok for him to cum as well. And when this boy cums, he cums everywhere. He just can't hold himself back. Shamefully cumming in a nearby trashcan so no one would see.

He quickly cleaned himself up, looking up and down the ally to make sure no one is watching. He couldn't help the connection he felt with her. She was so sweet the first time they meet and she's perfect now weak against her mattress.

Ok its time to make a move.

[vlogsquadssquad]

secure

summary: Charlie puth invites David to a get together where David meets y/n and they hit it off.

a/n: a teensy weensy bit angst but im 100% making a part 2 of this with a happy ending so no worries!!!!!!!!!

warnings: language

mood board:

-- 3RD PERSON DD & CP

“hey what are your plans for Saturday?” Charlie asked David as they finished up a bit for the vlog.

“umm, nothing really. im kind of in a fog right now. why?” David took a bite of his apple.

“well im throwing a small little kickback at my house. a few of my music friends are coming and it might get you some good connections, if you'd like.”

“dude, that's fucking sick! name drop! is Selena Gomez gonna be there?” David asked excitedly.

“no, no, Selena doesn't really do too many social events anymore. she's going through a lot...” David raised his eyebrow as Charlie looked to the ground. “but you know who will be there? y/f/n!” 

“shut the fuck up dude are you serious?” Davids heart dropped at the thought of y/n at the party. he's been crushing on her for a bit, and has been dying to meet her. 

“yeah, I mean she texted me she would, why are you all giddy?” Charlie punched David on the shoulder playfully, but secretly didn't want David to say he had a crush on her because truth was, so did Charlie. what's not to like? she's humble, kind, funny, easy-going, and down for anything. 

“oh, uhh... no reason, just she's a pretty popular singer right now. good clickbait.” David said with nervousness in his voice. he didn't want to admit that he had a crush when he hasn't even met her.

“alright, well ill see you at the kickback then. bring some friends!” Charlie tried not to sound worried or suspicious. he’d have to keep an eye on the two.

-- YOUR POV

I really hate going to parties. but Charlie promised it would be chill and just a way to destress. ive been in a fog with my album im writing. I have great songs but I need two more and im stuck on what to write about. maybe the party will be a good thing. 

-texts w - Charles 🤪 -

< should I wear something casual or ?? are we dressing nicer lol

you look great in everything! >

maybe party casual if that's a thing? >

< thought it was a kickback you ass! lol but thanks for the heads up. see you there, Charles! 😉

-end texts-

he hated when i called him Charles but i love messing with him. after careful examining of the clothes i had, i decided to go as I was. it was an easy going outfit but I still looked put together. I had no one to impress anyways. 

-- 1st PERSON DD 

“dude, im so nervous.” i whispered to Ilya, who knew of my crush. 

“its fine man, don't be a pussy.” i took a drink of my water and grabbed my camera to film with Benny Blanco a little he always had something funny or interesting to say.

“Charles!” I heard from the living room. i didn't think anything of it and kept filming with Benny and Jeff. a little while goes by and then Benny looks over my shoulder.

“hey, y/n/n! so good to see you!” i froze. y/n went and gave benny an inviting hug and then turned to me. her eyes were easy to melt into.

“hi, good to see you, im y/n” she went in for a hug. she smelled beautiful.

“oh, hi. im David. big fan.” 

“and im Jeff, wow you look so great, can I get you a drink?”

i rolled my eyes at Jeff trying to make a move. of course he's into the same girl I am.

“oh, im ok, I actually don't really like to drink.” she's so kind and gentle as she speaks. 

“so how is the album coming?” benny asks her.

“its... not.” she laughs lightly but I can tell she's stressed. is it too early to tell her I already know her inside and out? am I crazy for watching all her interviews, tiktoks, and instagram stories? 

“im in a fog,” she looks to the ground. how are we already so compatible? “I want two more songs but im having trouble finding a conclusion to the story im telling. maybe there isn't one, I don't know.”

“what's the story you're trying to tell?” I ask feeling very brave and comfortable already.

“basically my current dating life.” she slightly blushes. “its so hard dating and every time I start to like a guy or I know of him and I already have a crush on him, it doesn't end well. and I have these little romances I write about but they all end in either piggy behavior or ghosting.” we laughed along with her. her smile was radiating.

“maybe I can help, do you wanna go to Charlie’s studio?” Benny asks her.

“you're an angel! yes! ill repay you in food.” she laughs. as they walk out, Im watching her. she moves so flawlessly. “hey, you can come too. might get something good for the vlog.” she smiles to me. my heart is beating out of my chest. she watches my videos or at least knows of me. “cool, thank you.” I say trying to remain calm. she also pulls Charlie in and he drapes his arm around her shoulder. they're just friends.

as we get seated in the room, Benny starts asking her questions. “so, we know what message you're giving but how are you delivering it for the album? what's the feeling? want to play us a song that captures the vibe?” 

“well I only have the instrumentals for the songs but I can play one live?” 

“great, lets do it.” Charlie smiled to her as he handed her a mic.

“don't post this anywhere, David” she warned.

she brought warmth to my cheeks. “nope, ill only use it as blackmail.”

her laugh was such a gift. I could tell jokes all day just to hear her laugh again. 

she played a beautiful song that was slow and powerful and all about heartbreak. it hurt to hear her go through that. then benny asked for another song. this one was more pop. like id hear it on the radio, but still deep. 

the rest of the night was them composing songs and some stupid jokes here and there. safe to say she's the most down to earth and funny person in the room. the fans will go crazy that im here with her. im going crazy that im here with her. 

-- YOUR POV

I spent the whole night in the studio with some amazing people. I found myself taking it all in and being so thankful for my life. ive known of David and watched his vlogs pretty frequently too, but being with him was a whole different experience. he gave great advice and genuinely helped me through some of my block. he gave a listeners point of view and had fresh ears. it was nice. he even offered to walk me to my car.

“I figured you'd have like a limo waiting for you outside or something.” he joked as we walked toward the street.

“nope, that's just youtubers.” I joked back.

he laughed, “ouch.” 

“thank you for your input tonight.” he chuckled. “no, I really mean it. I think I know exactly how I want to end the album.” I look into his eyes as my back is pushed against my car. 

“where's your mind at?” he looks back to me.

“loving myself. I know it sounds cliche, but isn't the greatest romance of all, the love you have for yourself? tonight was the most fun ive had, and it was just hanging out with friends talking about endless things.”

he nods as he takes my words in. “you're really secure with yourself. I like that. its going to be a great album.”

he leans in and for a moment I think he's going to kiss me which I don't need right now. then I see his hands go low to the handle of my car door and he opens it for me.

“oh, I can't take a hint, huh?” I joke with him.

“no, not at all. I just know you're excited to go home and write your new hit.” he says almost seriously.

“thank you” I whisper. “and also, can I get your number? id love to do something fun for the vlogs.” 

-- DAVIDS POV, NEXT DAY

“il, it couldn't have gone better! she asked for my number, bro!”

“that's fucking sick. imagine you dating one of americas sweetheart, music icons.” Ilya pokes at David.

“its not a fucking joke, I really think there was something there but id really like to get to know her better.”

“who are we talking about?” Charlie asks as he enters the room. David had texted him to meet up for a bit they were doing.

“uh, no one.” im quick to reply knowing they're` great friends and I don't want any drama.

“oh ok... so what'd you think of y/n?” he asks me.

“oh she's great, yeah, I was editing some last night and I think I'll keep some parts in.”

“yeah, she's so easy to be around. I think im gonna ask her out, she's kind of the girl of my dreams, and im like 99% sure she's in love with me too.” he says almost marking his territory. 

I look to Ilya and he just half smiles. “oh, that's great man. yeah you should ask her out if you're in love with her. she's a great catch.” my chest falls as I say it aloud. I really thought she liked me. 

part 2

[toutallyahoe]

Flirt ~ Shinsō Hitoshi (BNHA)

Requested By: --

A/N: this'll be a series but my dear gremlins... pray to a god that ill actually follow through the fucking outline i have written and have the motivation to write because lmao

also, wowowow bnha yall? and here i thought i outgrew my weeb phase but guess not! now, dont spoil me shit please because i still have no clue what the fuck is happening in the fandom since i havent touched any anime for fucking months (well, except me watching four episodes of free! two weeks ago but shhhhhh) so dont fucking be cunt to spoil, yeah? lmao thanks and enjoy this shit ajsvdjskdbjsb

fun fact, this was supposed to be only 500-800 words but GUESS WHO GOT TOO INTO THIS SHIT AND WRITTEN 3600 PLUS WORDS YALL?!?!?!?!?

Flirt | Flirt 2 | Flirt 3

─────────────────

Hitoshi let out a tired sigh leaving his lips as he shoves his hands on the pockets of his hoodie. A frown on his lips as he tried to hide his face inside the purple scarf wrapped around his neck, hiding away from the cold breeze passing by.

It was a cold day, that can be said and Hitoshi wished to just stay in his warm bed while being cocooned with his comforters and blankets to keep him from suffering the cold air of January while sleeping probably until noon, if he was lucky that is and not have his mom wake him up. Sadly, Hitoshi was asked by his one (and only) friend to meet up and hang out and the indigo haired knew that no matter how many times he flat out disagrees, the [Hair color] haired male always was a stubborn one. And once he makes up his mind, he'll drag Hitoshi along with him.

"This better be worth it," Hitoshi grumbled as he was still angry to leave the comforts of his bed and warm room to be outside with the January air being cold and having no clue where he was. With a sigh, Hitoshi remembered how [Name], his friend, basically begged him to accompany him to the new cafe that opened. Hitoshi would have flat out reject the [Hair color] haired male if it wasn't for [Name]'s four words he uttered yesterday.

It was a cloudy, Friday morning. The first period was over and each class has a ten minute break before the next teacher comes in to discuss whatever subject they had planned for the young minds of each of their classes. Hitoshi distinctly remembered that the next period teacher was absent for today and with that knowledge, the indigo haired male decided to spend the ten minute break and aswell as the next period doing something important. Sleeping.

The indigo haired male suffered from the lack of sleep. With his hectic sleep schedule and insomia just kicking in, Hitoshi has limited amount of sleep and it can be known with the large bags underneathe his eyes. It doesn't help that he had to finish some homework his teachers had pilled up to them. So, Hitoshi decided he'll sleep than study or chatter with his classmates like the others are currently doing. The indigo haired male let out a sigh and he positioned himself to be comfortable on his seat and plopped his arms on his desk and was about to slam his head onto his arms when a loud bang echoed inside the room.

Due to the loud noise, it made a lot of students shriek in fear and stopped whatever they were doing and snapped their heads on where the loud noise was heard. The loud bang they heard was from door of the classroom slammed open with so much forced that some pondered how the hinges of the door was still intact. But what everyone focused was the figure stood there, clad in the familiar clothing of the male's uniform of the school although the uniform was now wrinkled here and there and the student's hair was messy and all over. His hand was gripping the doorknob tightly as the student was panting harshly and gasping for air, indicating that he had did something to actd that way, and everyone knew it was running.

"HITOSHI!!!" The figure screamed when be had gathered his bearings and immediately, everyone recognized that it was none other than the school's resident ray of sunshine, [Name] [Last name].

[Name] stood tall and proud when he finished gasping for air. Wiping the sweat off his forehead as he sent a beaming smile to everyone as he frantically looked around the room but then his gaze directed to the said male he screamed their name out.

"Hito-chan!" [Name] had happily called out to the indigo haired male as skipped inside the indigo haired male's classroom. Not minding the lively chatter that comtinued before he interrupted from the other students that were still inside the room nor the way their eyes following him approaching the indigo haired male that everyone enjoyed to avoid like the plague. As [Name] was close, he immediately threw himself to Hitoshi and hugged the male who gave him an unimpressive stare with his actions.

"Let's go out together this saturday!" [Name] suggested as he smiled at his friend who he felt slumped on his arms, clearly lazy and tired. "I found this new cafe and I think you'll like this one!" He had happily said as Hitoshi grunted on his arms.

"No," Hitoshi bluntly disagreed and shoved [Name] away from him. Hitoshi's surprising actions made [Name] let out a yelp and almost stumbled back. It doesn't help that the realization hit him on the indigo haired male's answer, he frowned for a second but then jumped back to his childish attitude. Hitoshi did not mind his friend's sputtering on his answer as he prompted his arms on his desk and placed his head on them. "And stop calling me that!" Hitoshi grunted as he closed his eyes as the indigo haired male wanted to sleep for a bit before the break was over.

"Huh?!? But why?!?" [Name] pouted and whined as he looked at Hitoshi. The indigo haired male let out a groan when he felt the [Hair color] haired male shake him by the shoulders.

"Hito-chan! Don't just sleep on me!" [Name] whined to his indigo haired friend in annoyance. "Tell me why!"

Hitoshi grumbled incoherent words to himself as he raised his head and opened his eyes to glare at his friend who still was shaking his shoulders. "Stop being immature, idiot," Hitoshi grumbled ad he rolled his eyes at his friend's childish and immature actions on puffing his cheek and crossing his arms over his chest, acting like a toddler being mad.

"Am not!" [Name] grumbled as he then pouted. "Why are you such a meanie, Hito-chan... and answer my question!" He whined as Hitoshi rolled his eyes again. Christ, why was he friends with [Name] again? Who even says meanie as an insult anymore other than four and five years old?

"Because I said so," came Hitoshi's blunt answer which made the [Hair color] haired male whine louder. [Name] frowned as he looked at Hitoshi who did not paid mind to him and was about to lay his head on his arms again to try and sleep.

"Come on Hito-chan!" [Name] had begged as he drop down on his knees and kneeled down beside sitting form of his best friend. His hand cupped together in front him as he gave his best puppy dog eyes to his indigo haired best friend who didn't even looked at him. "Please, Hitoshi?" He begged, using Hitoshi's proper name and not the one he calls to the indigo haired male. "I promise you'll enjoy this one!" [Name] pleaded.

Hitoshi narrowed his purple eyes and took a glance at his [Hair color] haired friend who was still in the floor, kneeling and trying to coerce him with his puppy dog eyes that was definitely NOT working. Hitoshi sighs as his ears picked up the sound of chattering surrounding him. 'Right, we're still in class... this is so embarrassing...' Hitoshi grumbled on his thoughts as he closed his eyes.

"Please Hitoshi!" [Name] shouted when the indigo haired male was too silent for his liking. As the [Hair color] haired male stayed there on the ground, not moving from his kneeling position. Hitoshi thought over his words on hanging out together on Saturday. After a few more seconds, Hitoshi finally made his final decision.

"No," came Hitoshi's final and blunt reply. Still unchanging despite the [Hair color] male's efforts on pleading and begging for him to consider.

"Hitoshi!" [Name] cried out as he whined at the indigo haired male who went back to placing his head on his arms to get some sleep.

"I'll pay for everything!" [Name] had said. It seemed like those were the magic words as he saw the indigo haired male crack one eye open to look at him. There was a hum from the tired male as [Name] begged to whatever deities listening to him currently that they would give him some good karma and bless him to have his friend accompany him.

As [Name] begged some higher beings to make the indigo haired male reconsider his answer, Hitoshi thought about it again. Was it worth waking up early to meet up with the [Hair color] haired male? Was it worth not getting some much needed sleep just to hang out with this male who Hitoshi swore doesn't know what quietness or silence is?

"... fine..." Hitoshi grumbled out his agreement as what is more better than food? Free food and Hitoshi will make sure the [Hair color] haired male will have an empty wallet after tomorrow. Hitoshi saying his agreement had closed his eyes again and tried to get some sleep. Not minding [Name] immediately stood up from his kneeling position and fist pumped the air while screaming "yeah!" in excitement.

Hitoshi sighs as he stopped walking and looked around the area he was in. The indigo haired frowned and looked at the sky in annoyance, he then looked back around again and tried to remember if he was in the right place on where his [Hair color] haired friend was supposed to join him to take him to the cafe he was obsessing on taking Hitoshi there. Tapping his shoe in annoyance at the pavement, Hitoshi let out a tired sigh as he then took his phone out from his hoodie's pocket and unlocked it. Pressing on the massaging icon, the indigo haired male immediately pressed the very top of the messages with the familair name displayed and he began typing, rather annoyedly as he did.

TO: Idiot (◕ω◕✿)

FROM: Hito-chan♡ (눈_눈)

where are you?

[08:22 AM]

Hitoshi typed and sent it when done as he stood and looked arpund again. He was standing in the sidewalk from a busy street where people, young and old walk around and minding their own business. On some occasions, Hitoshi would see some people with unique quirks. The indigo haired male had to hold his sjort when he saw a businessman with a head shaped like a cactus. As Hitoshi looked around and waited for his [Hair color] haired friend, his phone vibrated on his hand. His screen lit up, indicating it recieved something to have its user be notified. And the indigo haired male saw the sender's name which made Hitoshi let out a tired sigh.

Idiot (◕ω◕✿) sent (3) messages

Hitoshi opened his inbox and tapped the most recent messages that he received and the indigo haired male saw what his friend had replied. If he can, Hitoshi would have liked to slap [Name] when he saw the messages.

TO: Hito-chan♡ (눈_눈)

FROM: Idiot (◕ω◕✿)

IM SORRY FOR BEING LATE HITOSHI!!! .·´¯'(>□<)´¯'·

[08:27 AM]

I OVERSLEPT AND I HAD TO FEED TOSHI \(๑>д<๑)/

[08:27 AM]

DONT WORRY IM ON THE TRAIN GOING THERE ASDFGHJKLL ヽ(≧Д≦)ノ

[08:28 AM]

The indigo haired male stared at his screen for a moment as he then raised one of his hand and slapped it on his forehead. "My God... [Name]..." Hitoshi grumbled underneath his breathe as he began to type his reply.

TO: Idiot (◕ω◕✿)

FROM: Hito-chan♡ (눈_눈)

hurry up idiot

[08:32 AM]

or else im leaving

[08:33 AM]

After sending those two text, Hitoshi immediately gotten a reply and he didn't have to look at the screen of his phone which displayed the messages to know that his [Hair color] haired friend was whining at him on being a 'meanie' and begging him not to ditch [Name].

Not a few seconds later, Hitoshi's phone vibrated. The indigo haired let out an annoyed grunt as he tap the green icon to receive the call from [Name] as he then placed the phone on his ear. Hitoshi winced and had to hurriedly pull his phone away from his ear with how loud [Name] was on the other line.

"HITO-CHAN!!! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE!!!" [Name] cried out on the indigo haired male's phone. Hitoshi had to gather his bearings from the [Hair color] haired male's voice. Hitoshi swore that [Name] sometimes had that loud pro-hero's voice, Present Mic. Both being incredibly loud and their voices goes annoying real fast.

"HITO-CHAN PLEASE WAIT FOR ME!!! IM ALMOST THERE!!!" Hitoshi let out series of grumbles as he listened to [Name] beg for him to wait. Hitoshi wonders why he even bother with his friend. Looking around, Hitoshi noticed he was getting some looks, from judgmental, curious to annoyed ones. It made the indigo haired embarrassed.

"Keep quiet," Hitoshi hissed as he felt heat creeping in on his cheeks from the looks of passersby he was getting from the loud [Hair color] haired male on his phone. "I'll wait but just... shut up, idiot," Hitoshi grumbled as he heard [Name] thanked him profusely on the other line. The indigo haired male rolled his eyes at his friend's attitude and had to stop himself from snorting when he heard [Name] getting scolded on the other line from how loud he was. 'Idiot...'

"A-ah! I'm so sorry for the disturbance!" Hitoshi heard his [Hair color] haired friend apologize. There was another voice piping on the other line aswell as shuffling. The indigo haired wondered where his friend was. 'He said he was close?' Hitoshi thought. 'But he also said that he was still in the train...'

Hitoshi was about to end the call when [Name] continued talking, more quietly than before. "Hey, Hito-chan?" [Name] had called out. The said male hummed to show he was listening as Hitoshi looked around the area again to see people walking pass by him.

"Yeah?"

"I... well..." Hitoshi raised his brow at his friends uncharacteristic hesitation but the indigo haired nale did not mind. The indigo haired male knew that [Name] always goes head first in situations and did not think about it. Hitoshi found that attitude of his to be stupid really but [Name] was [Name], and his friend always gets it in the end. "Thank you for being my friend..."

Hitoshi paused. Gripping his phone tightly, there was a smile on his lips as he rolled his eyes at the [Hair color] haired male's words.

"Yeah... sure... whatever, idiot..."

Hitoshi looked at the time on his phone and let out an annoyed sigh when he saw it was twenty-two minutes after [Name] had called him and ended the call with the [Hair color] haired male promising he was close by already.

'Yeah right... close my ass...' Hitoshi thought as he bit his bottom. The male was still not here and it made Hitoshi regretted leaving his bed more than ever. 'At least he should've have the decency to come in time...'

Hitoshi swears that when he sees his friend, he'll slap the [Hair color] haired male for being late. The indigo haired male knew that he will make his friend buy the most expensive stuff in this cafe they were going so [Name] will regret inviting him and being late. But either way, Hitoshi liked watching the cars and people passed by, the indigo haired male just wished it wasn't so goddamn cold and that he was actually sitting than standing like a dumbass in the middle of the sidewalk as he waited for his friend.

Looking at his phone again, Hitoshi decided to pass the time by playing games on his phones. It was already twenty-six minutes since the call and despite [Name] assuring him that he'll be there, he still wasn't and Hitoshi did not want to think what made his friend so late. He knew [Name] always had a terrible skills in time management. The [Hair color] haired male can either be ten minutes early or twenty minutes late, there is no inbetween and the indigo haired male wished [Name] was the former for atleast this outing but it seemed like lady luck was not on his side. Well, when was she always on his side? She never was as he grew up anyways. Having born with a villaino--

"HITO-CHAN!!!"

"GAH!!!" Hitoshi almost dropped his phone and would have been thrown to the ground if he had not steadied himself on time. That still not prevented the indigo haired male to be scared out of his wits and a frightened scream leaving his lips when he felt a body colliding behind him aswell as weight distributed on his back and arms wrapped around his neck, tighly.

"Hito-chan!" The said male let out quiet curses as he turned to look behind him to see the male he was waiting shining him a beaming smile. "Hito-chan! Im so glad you didn't ditch me," [Name] had said as he nuzzled his face on the other male's cheek.

Hitoshi felt his face burned in embarrassment from his best friend's affectionate gesture. And not to mention [Name] was being so close to him in public. Hitoshi's cheeks were painted a light shade of pink flush as he turned his head the other way from his friend.

"I almost did..." Hitoshi muttered as [Name] guffawed at his answer with his [Eye color] eyes widen from Hitoshi's words. "Now... g-get off me idiot!" Hitoshi had exclaimed as he tried to push his friend away but [Name] whined at him.

"Hito-chan!" The [Hair color] haired whined in a childish way. "Don't be mean!"

"Idiot! Just-- get off me! It's embarrassing," Hitoshi retorted as the [Hair color] haired male pouted but complied with his words. Not without one last whine about the indigo haired male being so cold towards him which amde Hitoshi roll his eyes at his words.

"Whatever..." Hitoshi had said as he adjusted the scarf of his neck and avoided his [Hair color] haired friend's eyes as [Name] turned to look at him with a bright smile.

"Here you go Hito-chan!" The [Hair color] haired male had pushed a white plastic bag towards the indigo haired male's chest. His actions made Hitoshi turned to look at him with surprise on his face as he took the bag. [Name] still had that smile on his lips as he looked at Hitoshi.

"What... what's this?" Hitoshi asked, confused as he looked down on the white blastic bag on his hand. Hitoshi heard [Name] awkwardly laughed as the [Hair color] haired male rubbed the nape of his neck. If Hitoshi would have looked, he would have saw the soft pink flush on [Name]'s [Skin color] cheeks.

"Ah, well..." [Name] had started as he awkwardly coughed onto his fist. "I knew I would be really late so I... kinda decided to stop at this small shop near here to buy you an apology gift..." He had explained as Hitoshi looked up towards him again then back at the bag. [Name] flashed Hitoshi a grin, silently urging his indigo haired friend to see what's inside the plastic. "Hope you'll like it Hito-chan."

Hitoshi opened the plastic and had one of his hand to reached inside. There was something small and round. That's what Hitoshi had felt and with curiosity swallowing him whole, the indigo haired male pulled it out. Hitoshi couldn't help but softly smile. On his hand, it was a small keychain. The keychain was shaped like a cat with its paint being purple and had a droppy eyes. There was a small mischievous grin on the cat's face as it stood in two legs while one of its paw was raised to signify it was waving. Oddly enough, Hitoshi thought the small cat was to signify it was him.

"When I saw that... it kinda reminded me of you..." [Name] confessed.

[Name]'s comment made Hitoshi feel something inside. It was sweet, Hitoshi could not lie as he looked at the purple cat keychain on his hand. His [Hair color] haired friend thought of him when he bought this. Maybe he'll not rob [Name] off of his money for being late when they get to this cafe. It made Hitoshi feel happy--

"I mean... it had Hito-chan's tired, grinning face!" Scratch that. [Name] was still the dumbass that he was and the indigo haired male is going to order every expensive stuff to leave him broke.

Hitoshi turned to look at [Name] and would start to nag the [Hair color] haired male's ear off when the male had reached down and took his unoccupied hand and began to walk away, dragging Hitoshi with a smile on his face.

"Now, come on Hito-chan!" [Name] had said. His tone excited and happy as he looked forward and not looking at Hitoshi who walked behind him, a bit dumbfounded from his actions on just dragging him along. "The cafe is a few blocks away from here!"

"You could've had sent me the damn address so I could've waited inside..." Hitoshi bit his bottom lip and rolled his eyes. He tightly held the keychain on his hand as he caught up to his friend's pace.

Now, the indigo haired male walked side by side with the [Hair color] haired male who if Hitoshi would've looked, the indigo haired male would have saw the soft smile on his lips and a pink hue on his cheeks as they walked together towards the direction of the cafe in [Name]'s lead, hand in hand. And if [Name] would've looked at Hitoshi, the [Hair color] haired male would have saw Hitoshi held a small soft smile on his lips.

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NEXT >

[notnctu]

YAYYYY CONGRATS FOR GETTING MOAR FOLLOWERS, i knew it, u guys are awesome xD, cant believe ure open for request, can i request a scenario for Donghyuck please? the plot is he was her one night stand that she met again when visiting her cousin at the hospital, he was her cousin doctor. Feeling a little hurt but delighted to see her again, Donghyuck flirting with her every time she visit her cousin, after that is up to u, gosh hope my plot doesnt make you guys uncomfortable -_-;;v thank you

AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH <3 thank you for requesting, and your plot was totally fine :) i had a fun time writing about dr!donghyuck hehe i secretly like hospital aus lmaosdinjfhew idk why.. you can read it under the cut and i hope you like it <333

(i may or may not have written this while i waited for my jury duty service lol)

-author doie ❀

p.s. soft reminder to everyone that requests are now closed. we apologize for the wait and are doing our best to finish them all! thank you for your patience :)

doctor!donghyuck x reader genre - brief mention of fucking, mainly fluff

when donghyuck clocked in for his graveyard shift, he wasn’t expecting to see the lovely person he spent the most eventful night with. donghyuck finally understands why you left so fast after the one night stand. his new patient is your cousin, odd how fate works sometimes.

he isn’t entirely sure if you’d remember him, actually a bit hesitant to approach you despite needing to give you an update on your cousin’s progress. he’s missed you, not wanting to admit it to himself, but he spent nights wondering if he should call you .. or if you really just saw him as a one night stand.

maybe it was a shot at his pride when you didn’t follow up with him, not knowing that you left because you had gotten a call about your cousin’s accident. just as he walks toward you, you look up from your phone and your mouth hangs slightly open.

and he stops at your cute reaction, remembering how honeyed your moans were in bed and how soft your skin felt underneath his fingertips. he clenches at his clipboard and shakes himself from the sudden flashback.

“donghyuck...” you call his name and it’s absolute music to his ears. your eyes drop to the classic lab coat, spectacles that sit at the tip of his nose. you fucked a doctor? the realization is hitting you like a wall of bricks. “...doctor lee.. i mean.”

he snorts at the formality, “you can just call me donghyuck.. what a surprise, y/n. i didn’t think the next time we meet would be here.”

he eyes you through his glasses, examining your casual laid back attire that is a contrast to the tight clubbing outfit he had met you in. your face is stripped down to just your features, as stunning as he remembers.

“right, the universe is strange.” you laugh awkwardly, like the confidence in your tone only exists in bed. however, he finds this change rather sweet and charming. the only image he knows you by is the hot individual who left shameless hickeys across his neck. this difference completes you, like the icing on a cake.

“i don’t mind though. i’ve been hoping to see you again.” he smiles, dropping any sense of professionalism that he learned in med school.

you’re flustered by his random flirtation, “really? you didn’t seem like you wanted to keep seeing me.”

donghyuck’s throat goes dry, knowing too well that his pride had stopped him from reaching out. “i’m not the best with ... communication.”

“your pride get in the way?” it’s a rhetorical question, but his nervous laughter gives enough confirmation. he looks through his files, finally aware that he has a job to attend to.

“your cousin is progressing well, we can anticipate a speedy recovering in about two weeks time.” you release a deep sigh at the good news, relieving every bad energy that was pent up before.

“that sounds great. thank you for your work.” you smile, “i’m so happy that i could kiss you!” you shout rarely loudly, the receptionists eyeing you strangely over the counter top.

but donghyuck doesn’t seem phased, instead a smirk grows on his face. “we can save the kissing for later, sweet cheeks.” he leans down to whisper into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

he winks at you, before heading back to his patients, looking forward to see you around for the next two weeks.

-

day after day, donghyuck rushes to your cousin’s room in hopes to coincidentally run into you. and if you two can’t feel the tension in the room, everyone else can.

without a fail, he sly bids you a compliment every time he sees you.

“my day is always a whole lot better when i see you.”

“good afternoon, beautiful.”

“you manage to take my breath away effortlessly, in a literal medical sense, it’s not a good thing. but im speaking figuratively in this case.”

donghyuck is so cute and much more talkative than the night you two shared. but when hes interacting with nurses or patients, he’s serious with a few lighthearted jokes to get people to smile. it’s almost like he couldn’t get any better.

and every time you leave, he always finds you to say “i’ll miss you, drive safe”

today is a little different. you catch him lingering in the lobby, chatting with a few receptionists. “goodbye donghyuck.” you grin at him, not wanting to interrupt his conversation.

but as you walk by, he holds your hand to stop you. “i’m getting tired of missing you all the time.” he starts, walking you to the hospital door. hand in your hand. you’re stunned at the action, wondering if the hospital staff are watching the two of you.

“i want to see you outside of the hospital. i want to be with you, talk to you enough to where i don’t have to be polite in our messages.” he lightly squeezes your cheek, stopping at the automatic doors.

and he gathers your hands together, “are you free for dinner tomorrow night?”

you gasp at the offer, feeling butterflies flutter at the pit of your stomach. “yes.”

“great. then, ill miss you until then, drive safe.” he pats your head lovingly, his heart pounding at your acceptance. he feels like he’s soaring in the clouds.