#jeez i think i was fresh out of college around the time i started it...

[gifti3]

Just wanna say Datura is my favorite writing from you :) Hope you have a great day!!

Awww thank you!! This really made my day better (*^▽^*)

(Picture representation of my internal feelings)

[dunedragon]

The part of me that wants those boys happy fears the what if concept and understands your response. The part of me that loves angst is like OH BOY I LOVE PAIN.

Anyway... netcafe?? ooooooooh

I love all kinds of horror and dread and angst, I eat it up! But I realized this one went a bit too hard for the type of fandom this is so it's just sat unfinished in my drafts.

The netcafe one is plotted now and hopefully I can drum up the motivation to write it, esp since I really want to explore a Netto POV chapter for RUTH :D I think it would be fun to write once I get over the hurdle of starting.

However, here have the incomplete and completely unedited chapter "What Could Have Been" under the cut:

“Saito? Iggy? Hello? Anyone there?” Saito groaned, fingers digging into the grass and dirt beneath him as he woke. The air was thick with the smell of pine and dirt, and he slowly sat up as the wind rushed through his hair. Wind. Dirt. Trees. He looked at his hands. Flesh and bone. His clothes were damp as the morning sun filtered through the trees. He pressed his fingers to his face as his heart slowly descended with horror. The chip flip… “Saito? Is that you?” His PET sat in the grass beside him. He snatched it up, and was greeted to the soft smile of his brother. “You did it.” He said, tears welling in his eyes. “It’s your turn now. Go have fun, okay? For me? I’ll support you from h-here.” Saito’s vision blurred. “N-no this isn’t— I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Netto— Mega, burst into tears and Saito clutched the PET to his chest. Hidden in the secluded embrace of the morning fog, they cried.

————

“Saito! Wake up, you’re going to be late!” Saito woke with a jolt, pieces of paper falling from his face as he looked around. He’d fallen asleep at his desk again in the cramped dorm room of his university. He looked down at the fallen sheets of his assignment as they mixed in with the diagrams of his personal projects. Outside the window, the morning sun filtered through the fog and trees, just like it had that day on Torishima 6 years ago. Saito leaned back in his chair and let out a yawn as he stretched. “Mngh, What time is it?” “8:20.” Mega replied. “Class starts in ten minutes.” Shit. He leapt from his chair and gathered the scattered pieces of his project and shoved them into his backpack. “Oh jeez, oh jeez!” “I woulda woken you earlier,” Mega (said), “but you were up till 3 in the morning working on your assignment, I thought you’d like the extra 30 minutes to sleep in!” “Extra—?! Mega it takes me ten minutes just to walk across campus!” “Walk quickly.” Saito let out a groan, making sure Mega could hear his disapproval as he threw on a fresh shirt from the closet. Good enough. He snatched the PET off his desk and rushed out the door.

——

Two hours later, Saito’s stomach clawed for attention. He had forgotten to grab something to eat on his way out. As class was released, he dropped his Petbook into his backpack and weighed his options. “Hm… do you think I should go to The Lounge or head back to the dorm?” He asked out loud. “Probably your dorm.” Mega replied. “You forgot to take your medication and left one of the pages of your assignment on your desk. Though if you’re hoping to finish off that sandwich, I’m pretty sure Kodek ate it.” Saito balked. “What!? I told him to stop eating my food! Did you tell him I was saving that?” Mega shrugged. “Would it matter? He hates me.” Saito let out a long groan and drop his head onto his desk. “Hey, Dad offered to help you get your own apartment nearby, but nooo!” Mega drawled. “You wanted to “live life to the fullest” and get the “college experience!" It’s okay to take shortcuts, you know!” “I didn’t think it would involve… that.” Saito mumbled. “You mean the worst roommate ever?” Mega scoffed. Saito raised his head off the desk with an awkward shrug. “I wouldn’t say that… he’s just…” “—Terrible.” “Mega!” “What? You aren’t going to say it, so I will!” “We’ve talked about this!” Saito pleaded. “Please, just try to get along with him!” “Never.” With the class slowly filtering out the doors, their conversation was becoming more audible by the second. Saito dropped it, grabbing his backpack off the floor, and made his way to the exit. Once outside into the open air, he yawned once again. His sleep addled brain couldn’t hold a cohesive thought together, and he found himself once again missing the old hum of data and rigid routines. “Let’s head back and I’ll order you a pizza," Mega chirped once clear of the crowd. "Once you’ve eaten and grabbed your papers you need to head back to administration to sign off on next year’s Net Navi registration. After that, you should have enough time to —Oh, take a left up here.” Saito took the abrupt turn between two buildings. “That’s not the way to the dorms.” “I know, I decided we’re going to The Lounge for food instead.” Saito yawned. “Mm, okay.” “Netto! Wait!” Saito turned around to find a shorter girl with a blonde ponytail racing down the alley toward him. “Who is that?” Mega whispered. “Midee Nakamura, from my mechanical engineering class?” He whispered back. “The one you’re always playing games in?” “What can I say, it’s my free period.” Mega retorted. They both fell into silence as Midee caught up and paused to catch her breath. “Phew! Sorry, I’ve been trying to track you down all day.” “Me? Why?” Saito asked.

[magnus-sm-writes]

My Writing Journey: Early Adulthood!

I could title spring of 2020 “A Spring and a Miss”, because it was. My only high school class, band, was online, and it was honestly a disaster. I ended up skipping most of it to work at Subway (because I am a responsible adult like that). I was used to the online college classes; that was what I started out on.

What I did not expect was how this would impact my writing.

In February, I had rewritten Hamish and gotten some of the “dark academic” vibes I was shooting for. (In reality, it was always meant to be a gothic horror, but I did not know that yet.) I was so excited to write something else in my Shakespeare universe. My choice was Midway Through Summer’s Bullshit, a rewriting of the beloved A Midsummer’s Night Dream.

However, when the world shut down in March, I realized that I was too incredibly lonely writing a book with so much socialization in it. It depressed me. So I switched things up, for my own health. I rewrote Lessons in Humanity as a way to mentally prepare myself for university. It really felt like I was going places with it. I even had my wonderful, amazing friend Alex beta read it for me. (And even drew fan art for me like how fucking sweet are they?)

I was tired of rewrites, though, and I wanted to write something new. Something fresh. So I decided to write something that has both haunted and intrigued me since: Stuck Together.

Stuck Together is my historical fiction crackfic where William Shakespeare and Edgar Allan Poe a.) live in modern times, b.) are writeblr/writetube/writestagram famous authors, and c.) get stuck together in Edgar’s apartment during the COVID pandemic. 

It is a ridiculous novel, which I wholeheartedly acknowledge. I have never rewritten it, and I reread it once a year. I am not kidding when I say I love and hate this stupid novel in equal parts. It is so ridiculous, so utterly stupid, that I am unable to form a coherent thought on it. I cringe when I think of it; I adore it; I want to burn all traces of it from the internet; I want to fix it. 

(Someone please give me your thoughts on this because this shit is ridiculous and I love it.)

Then I went to my dream university for Creative Writing. It really was a dream come true; Ohio Northern’s campus is a magical place in the autumn. My professors were all incredible, and I have nothing but praise for ONU’s English department. I’m still in contact with several of my professors four years later!

I was at a weird place, creatively. I wanted to rewrite Jeez Take the Wheel, but things just… weren’t meshing. Nothing was working for me. I wondered if something was wrong. (I also broke my foot, but honestly, that should have given me more time to write.)

This was also the time I discovered I’m trans! It was October of 2020 when Morgan was no more, and Magnus came into being. I’d never felt more like myself than then, even though my writing was still not where I wanted it to be. As I settled into my identity, though, I became more confident in myself, and my writing also began to come easier.

There was also the matter of my senior capstone. You see, with all my community college credits, I was actually in my junior year of university. I had to come up with something to write next year for my Advanced Fiction Writing class (which would be the class I would do my capstone for). It had to be around 20,000 words at most, and a finished story. None of my projects could fit that. 

I decided to try a resurrection story. Something about my own transness, identity, and disconnection from the world. I began to brainstorm a story about a man who came back from the dead without his memories and was expected to pick back up where he left off.

This story became Body, my novelette. Body is to me now what Lessons in Humanity was in my teenage years. It is a marker of a huge shift in my writing. I went from someone who turned my nose up at fantasy to someone who was now writing within the realms of fantasy. Technically, Body falls beneath the speculative fiction umbrella. I’d place it in the Weird genre, personally, but it doesn’t really matter. It is more speculative than literary fiction, which was huge for me. 

With Body, I was taking a chance to really write something my own. I wrote in second person (my favorite tense ever). It was a braided narrative, weaving past and present together. It was a story about grief, and love, and hope, all at once. It was what I needed. When I think of Body, I think of how much of my soul I poured into it. Body is an incredibly special work to me because of that. It helped me understand myself in a time where I was just starting to be me.

This is going to sound like a sidebar, but it’s not. I promise.

My professor Dr. Pullen kept telling me in her critiques of my stories that it seemed like I was meant to be a fantasy writer, but was holding back. I, being the snob I was, refused to do anything more than give the barest hint of fantasy in anything I wrote. There was no way I was a fantasy writer; I was a man of literary fiction and contemporary settings.

That is, until Dungeons & Dragons changed everything.

My D&D group would meet anywhere from twice to four times a week. I am not kidding; that is how obsessed we were. I was obsessed. My best friend Jenny, our DM, was also obsessed. I joined another D&D group, as well, where I met some really amazing frat guys who accepted me as a man (!!!). I kept making backup characters just in case. Eventually, all these backup characters began to pile up. I needed something to do with them.

I’m stubborn. I can admit this. But I finally, finally decided to start writing fantasy once I finished Body, in part so I could get my character Hiprax’s character arc out of my head.

It quickly snowballed from there.

I also began to get a lot more serious about poetry. I read every single online copy of Warsan Shire’s poems I could get my hands on, consuming her words like I was starving. Poetry was how I dealt with my trauma, and dare I say, I dealt with it well. So well that I actually ended up in Polaris, my university’s literary magazine, with my poem “Mince Meat Pie”. I was elated. I was finally a published author!

Not only that, but Dr. Pullen made us submit work to literary magazines for class. (Other than Polaris, of course, but she encouraged us to submit to it as well.) I was rejected from all others. It wasn’t really the point for me, though; the point was that I did the damn thing. I did what scared me so badly I almost got sick the first time I submitted something. And I was accepted. 

I couldn’t even dream of doing this in 2020. It was nuts!

I also took a class on witches (taught by Dr. Pullen, duh), wherein my final project was actually a snippet of a vampire novel involving blood magic that I call Night Bite. The worldbuilding I began in that novel was actually the basis for my fantasy world Uuve. 

Once I left university, my writing just kept getting weirder and weirder.

[thesefourwallsstory]

Part 2: ???

The sun peeks its head through my blinds, pouring heat over my body and a bright light into my eyes, "I guess it's time to get up" I think to myself. I slowly rise from my bed and make my way to my bathroom. I brush my teeth, comb my hair and steal a long look in the mirror.

"Maaaaaaaaaan, when did I start looking so tired, these bags are huge" I say as I stretch out the skin beneath my eye, turning darker and darker from lack of sleep and constant rubbing. "I really should get to sleep at a better time but I'm always having too much fun dinking around on this thing" I exit my tiny bathroom and pick up my old, beat up guitar and strum the strings. What greets my ears is the most disharmonious sound I've ever heard, I wince. "Yeah, I should probably get you tuned before I try that again." I set the guitar back down and turn to face my mess of an apartment, "Same goes for you, I always wonder how you get so trashed when i'm hardly here." I finish my daily routine off with some half-burnt toast and sit down at my computer. I grab my headphones and put them on, and slowly get sucked into some games and social media. 

Before I even realize it, it's approaching noon and I'm starting to get hungry again. My phone dings. I pick it up off my desk and look at the notification, it's a text from Tanaka, "Hey Makoto-chan ;P, you up to get some food?" 

I hastily replied, "Don't mock me or I'll start calling you Tana-kun again around your girlfriend" 

Another message "Okay okay, jeez man when'd you get to be such a hardass?" 

"When you started calling me Makoto-chan, anyways I'd be down to get some food, I'm assuming you don't mean any food and you really want...." 

"Yeah... I'm craving that ramen place again, you can't blame me though, it's really really good, all the intricate flavors of the broth and the supreme texture of the noodles.........." He goes on for a while about how good the ramen is. At this point, I've learned not to stop him. 

"......I guess what I'm trying to say is, they just put a lot of love in every single bowl!" 

"Yeah yeah, all this hearing you ramble on is making me even more hungry, I'll meet you there in 20 okay?" 

"Sounds good to me Makoto-chan <3" 

"Didn't I just threaten you about calling me that?" 

"Yeah yeah, just don't forget your wallet this time, see ya there >:3", I seriously don't know how Tanaka does it, he doesn't have a job and still lives with his parents yet he manages to always have the money to stuff himself full to the brim with food, and I know he pays for it too! Well whatever, not like I'm complaining, he always reminds me to bring my wallet but he covers me every time we go out. I grab my laptop bag and make my way out of the apartment. 

Oh, and before I forget, my name is Makoto Shigeru, though you already knew the Makoto part. I’m fresh out of college and fresh out of a job haha. I’m 21 with bleach blonde hair and the most mediocre.. I mean the sexiest pair of brown eyes you’ll ever see. No matter what I seem to do I always get struck with bad luck, but eh that’s just a part of life. I’m learning the guitar to keep a promise to my late father. He always saw an artist in me, although I haven't seen it just yet. When his time was near he left me with his prized guitar and asked me to learn it so I could “free myself from my worries with music,” he was an odd one sure, but I knew he only wanted what was best and it’s not like I’m going to reject the wishes of a dying man. Soon after he passed, I picked up the old six-string and started to practice. One thing that irks me is self-centered people who don’t even try to get others. I don’t think I’ll ever see eye to eye with someone like that, even as much as I try to respect and show kindness to everyone. 

Speaking of self-centered people, I think my next door neighbor hates me, he hasn’t made an issue out of it yet, but I can hear him groan every time I start to practice. Though I’ve never seen him, he just strikes me as the type of guy to push his problems onto the world. I know he’s working for some tech company and from the unintentionally audible monologues, I don’t think he’s a huge fan. Maybe I’ll try to give him some advice….. Yeah, maybe I will.

0 notes

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Wow, he’s hot

“Pairing: Fem!Reader x Seo Changbin (SKZ)

Word Count: 8K

Genre: Neighbors to Lovers? Lol

Warnings: Aged up characters (Changbin is ten years older than the reader), explicit sexual content, language, drinking

Summary: You were a fresh college graduate, returning home for the summer before starting a bright, shiny new position in the city, but you certainly weren’t expecting to fall hard for your neighbor. 

A/N: I hope at least one person gets my reference/pun at the end....But seriously? Oh, what have I done...

Your roommate was hungover again, dressed to the nines in a purple bathrobe and pink fluffy slippers as she attempted to move huge boxes of random shit between her bedroom and the foyer of your shared apartment. 

It was priceless entertainment, at least in your opinion, especially after witnessing your roommate in rare form the previous night dancing from one frat boy to the next, draining entire bottles of alcohol like she needed the liquid encouragement. 

From what you had observed, she was determined to embarrass you at all costs, and under normal circumstances, you could’ve avoided her rather inappropriate behavior in exchange for your regular hook-up, Joshua. But he decided to remain mysteriously absent for the entire evening, which meant that you had been stuck watching over your roommate, hoping that she wouldn’t get you kicked out again....

“I know what you’re thinking, Y/N,” Laura huffed, pausing next to the counter-top where you sat. “What did you expect? It was my last night of freedom before going back home.”

“Yeah,” you snorted. “It was mine too, but I wasn’t plastered face-down in the shower last night.”

“Whatever,” Laura grimaced. “Did you sign off on the lease yet?”

“I did it earlier,” you replied. 

“Our bitchy landlord’s been complaining all week,” Laura said. “I’m tired of her late-night phone calls, plus my mom’s been really annoying about the move.”

“Oh?” you questioned. “When is she coming?”

“In like an hour,” Laura huffed. “Why do you think I’m busting my ass to pack everything?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Maybe you needed a distraction from thinking about puking in the bushes behind the frat house last night.”

“Oh, shut up about that!” Laura hissed, slapping your arm as you kept laughing. “Isn’t you brother coming tomorrow?”

“Ugh, yeah,” you groaned. “He said he has to come super early because of work, but my ass doesn’t start functioning until at least 8:00.”

“Well, at least tell Chan ‘hi’ for me,” Laura said, giggling like a love-struck teenager because she had been infatuated with your older brother for years.

“If I remember to tell him,” you grumbled, stretching out your arms and deciding that it might be useful for you to start packing as well, especially since the most you would be able to accomplish tomorrow morning at the ass crack of dawn is following Chan around the apartment in a zombie-like state as the two of you loaded your belongings into his car.

“Don’t forget that I’m coming to visit next week,” Laura said, and you perked up a little at the idea of having your friend come around, especially since the two of you had just graduated together and those long days and nights of being glued together at the hip were coming to a bittersweet end.

“Sounds good,” you agreed, checking your phone one last time to see a weird gif from Chan (as you had come to expect from him) before joining your roommate in packing up the remainder of your former college life.

Chan had always been prompt when it came to his familial obligations, and the two of you spent two hours loading all of your stuff into his car before starting the long drive to your old childhood home. A place that you hadn’t ventured to since leaving four years ago to start undergraduate school.

“Looks the same,” you remarked, sunglasses perched low on your nose as you allowed the window to roll down to take in some fresh air.

“What did you expect?” Chan asked, humming away to whatever shitty metal song he had playing over the radio.

In a totally random and last-minute decision, you had decided that for the next three summer months while you were stuck in an in-between phase, you were returning home for a while before you were set to move into a new apartment in the city close to where you would be working full-time. It seemed logical to save money, and there was a small part of you that did miss your family and old friends. 

Of course, despite Chan’s dismissal of your earlier nonchalant comment about the unchanging surroundings of your hometown, you were startled when you realized that the old house next door, which used to be occupied by an elderly couple until they moved away during your senior year of high school, was missing it’s familiar ‘for sale’ sign in the front yard, and there was a black Mustang in the driveway.

“Home sweet home,” Chan sighed when he stopped in the carport attached to your former two-story staccato, opening the door with a grumble. 

You frowned, following him around to the back of his car. “Someone bought the house next door?” you asked, dragging your eyes away from the sleek, shiny sports car to look at your brother.

Chan grunted as he heaved your suitcase from the trunk. “Yeah, they moved in last month. I think the owner is a lawyer and he lives there with his daughter.”

“Huh,” you remarked. “That house has been vacant for years.”

Chan shrugged. “Yeah, well, the guy who lives there now is really nice. Mom and dad babysit for him a lot when he’s working.”

“Great,” I muttered. “They’ll rope me into helping.”

“S’ not so bad,” Chan said, growling in frustration when your suitcase fell over to the side with an unpleasant crash. “Can you help or what?”

You laughed at your brother’s outrage, reaching back to pull your hair into a messy bun. 

Meanwhile, you noticed the front door of your house opening from the corner of your eye, smiling when your mother shrieked and rushed down the sidewalk to meet you halfway in a long-winded embrace. “Y/N!! I’m so glad to see you.”

“You’re crushing me,” you heaved through constricted lungs, accepting your mother’s open arms even if it was a little over-eager.

“Oh! I’m sorry, dear,” she said, pulling back just enough to allow oxygen to circulate once again, but not enough to pull you away from her mushy kisses. “You look so healthy and beautiful!”

“Yeah, thanks mom,” you said, slowly beginning the untangling process of removing her arms from around you while Chan struggled in the background to carry your suitcase up the front steps. “I should help.”

“Of course!” your mom agreed, but a distant tug of curiosity had you turning back to look at the house next door once again.

“Hey? Do you know anything about the new neighbor?”

“You mean Changbin? He’s wonderful, darling. So polite, and his daughter is so funny.”

You wrinkled your nose, never having been a huge fan of kids. “Chan said you babysit for him sometimes.”

“It’s always nice to help someone out,” your mother tsked, and you could recognize her patronizing tone from anywhere. “Such a shame that he divorced his wife. Heard it was kinda nasty.”

“It’s not any of our business,” you reminded her.

“Oh, I didn’t say it was!” your mother sighed. “He doesn’t talk about it much.”

“Jeez, how much do you guys talk?”

Because from the sound of it, Changbin had to be as old as your mom to make this much of an impression. You grinned as you briefly imagined the two of them on the front porch drinking tea together and gossiping about the rest of the neighborhood.

“He’s far more friendly than Mrs. Jones was,” your mother remarked. “I think you’d like him, Y/N.”

“I don’t know about that...”

“Well, you’ll get the chance to meet him tonight,” your mother said, smile full and wide. “I’ve invited him over for dinner!”

Oh, great.

“Can’t wait,” you forced out between clenched teeth, rolling your eyes when your mom clapped her hands together before grabbing your hand to drag you inside, feeling only a distant shiver roll across your spine as you walked onto the porch as if someone was looking at you from afar....

Your mother was hardly the type to run out of conversation, and you eventually were forced to leave her downstairs to argue with Chan over some menial thing that he forgot to do for tonight’s big dinner while you trudged upstairs to find some peace.

Unsurprisingly, your childhood bedroom remained untouched, and you circled around the perimeter, studying old pictures of yourself playing sports and hanging out with friends. Fingers dusting over your collection of old trophies and high-school yearbooks that recalled long-ago days of feeling carefree - with the future wide-open in front of you for the taking.

But you were well off in the present, allowing yourself to indulge in the nostalgia of looking through old diaries and journals before your mother’s voice called you downstairs for dinner later that evening. “Coming!” you called back, pausing next to your mirror to check your reflection.

The smell of your mother’s cooking had your stomach rumbling from the hunger of only stopping once on the way home to eat cheap fast-food with Chan, and you forced yourself to walk like a normal person even though every instinct was screaming at you to find the source of that delicious odor.

You were nearly salivating at the idea of your mother’s homemade cooking, and your hand caught the rail of the bannister to turn the final corner, but the sounds of voices from below forced you to pause at the top of the stairs, eyes growing wide as you took in the sight of the unfamiliar man standing in your foyer, talking to your mother like they had known each other for years. “Oh, Y/N,” your mother said, and you shivered when the man turned to look at you. “Come meet our neighbor, Changbin. I think you’ll really like him.”

You held back a snort at the ironic comment because it only took you a few seconds to come to the conclusion that Changbin epitomized the phrase “just my type.”

He was on the shorter side, built like he had literally spent his entire life working out, arms bulging beneath his t-shirt and chest straining the material tight to his front. So much so that you could practically see his nipples through the fabric. 

His hair was jet-black, ruffled from the wind outside, and his eyes were equally as dark, lips contorted into a self-satisfied smirk that you found exceedingly hot.

“Hi,” you mustered without much thought, nearly tripping over your own two feet on the way down the stairs.

“This is my daughter, Y/N,” your mother said, inviting you closer so that you were standing directly in front of Changbin.

“Nice to meet you,” he said in a deep voice that was slightly rough around the edges.

“Y/N just graduate from college,” your mother gushed. “We’re so excited to have her back.”

“I’m home for the summer,” you explained, shivering at the dark look in Changbin’s gaze. “I’m starting an internship in the Fall.”

“Y/N will be working in publishing,” your mother explained, jumping in while you and Changbin continued to stare each other down - something intense and provocative.

“Really?” Changbin asked, eyes making a leisurely stroll of looking you up and in down in a way that had you feeling extremely self-conscious. 

“Oh! Give me one second to check something in the kitchen,” your mother said, excusing herself with a smile before leaving the two of you alone in the foyer.

You inwardly cursed your mother for leaving you both in an awkward silence. Say something!! You screamed to yourself.

“So,” you started, clearing your throat and forcing yourself to stop swaying back and forth. “Chan told me you practice law.”

“Yeah,” Changbin agreed, and you swooned at his crooked smile. “It doesn’t sound as interesting as your work.”

“I don’t know about that,” you countered politely, but Changbin was unrelenting.

“You looked surprised to see me earlier,” he remarked.

You swallowed hard. “Oh, well when Chan mentioned a neighbor with a kid, I just wasn’t expecting someone so....”

“Yes?” Changbin prodded, encouraging you to continue.

Someone so fucking hot, you thought to yourself, someone who was literally made inside my best fantasies, but those explicit thoughts belonged exclusively inside your head. “Young,” you eventually finished, and Changbin seemed disappointed for some reason.

“I’m 32,” he said, and your eyes widened perceptibly, realizing that he was ten years older than you.

“I would’ve never guessed,” you said. “I mean, not that it’s a bad thing-”

“It’s alright,” Changbin interrupted, and you were relieved to hear him chuckle. “I know what you mean.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I can be a little awkward.”

“No,” he shook his head, coming to stand a little closer. “I think it’s nice.”

Oh? What was that supposed to mean?

“I used to have a boyfriend who looked a lot like you,” you went on, freezing when you comprehended what you had just blathered without thinking.

But Changbin didn’t seem bothered at all. “I bet he wasn’t as old as me.”

“He was my age,” you said. “But I kinda like older men...”

Fuck. Did those words really just come out of your mouth?!

“Y/N,” Changbin said, and you trembled at the huskiness of his tone. “You should be more careful.” He leaned in then as if trying to keep whatever he was about to say a secret for just the two of you. “I can be a very dangerous man.”

“O-oh,” you stuttered, finding yourself two seconds away from literally melting at his feet when your mother suddenly re-entered the foyer with a dusting of flour across her chin. 

“Dinner’s ready!” she announced, and you were fleeing behind her without a second thought, escaping the intoxicating hold of Changbin’s presence before you did something you might regret.

For whatever reason, you found yourself sitting next to Changbin in the dining room for dinner that night. 

“I made chicken,” your mother said, gesturing to each dish sitting in a line down the center of the table as she explained tonight’s menu. But you were barely cognizant of what your mother was saying because the close proximity to Changbin was doing very strange things to your head.

“So, Y/N,” your father started when everyone had been served. “I hope your brother was helpful with the move.”

Chan rolled his eyes, but you grinned at your father’s words. “Yeah, I was a little out of it though because of the time.”

“Like I said,” Chan huffed. “I couldn’t get there any later.”

“Let the bickering commence,” your mother said. “Changbin, you wouldn’t believe the fights these two had when they were young.”

“I can only imagine,” Changbin said, and you were wondering how someone could be even more attractive by the sound of their voice alone.

“Do you still need us to babysit for you tomorrow night?” your mother asked. “We would be more than accommodating.”

“That would be great,” Changbin said. “I’ve got a late conference call.”

“It’s no problem,” your mother continued. “Your daughter is just the loveliest.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Changbin replied.

“Y/N,” your mother said, catching you with a mouthful of chicken. “Changbin’s daughter is such a peach.”

You quickly forced down the food in your mouth when you felt Changbin’s gaze rest on you. “Oh? How hold is she, Mr. Seo?”

“She’s six,” Changbin said, and he shifted in his chair, causing your knees to brush together in a move that you knew wasn’t intentional, even if it didn’t stop your legs from wrapping together. “And you don’t have to be so formal with me, Y/N. Only my clients call me Mr. Seo.”

“O-oh,” you exhaled, reacting to the brief contact under the table, hoping that nobody else was noticing your strange behavior.

“Maybe Y/N could help watch Lucy when you’re gone,” your mother suggested, always the first to rope you into these things.

“Sure,” you agreed, even though the idea of pulling babysitting duty was less than appealing, and you could hear Chan snickering from across the table. He knew perfectly well your attitude when it came to kids. 

“I think Lucy would like that,” Changbin agreed, and you started to nod along until you felt Changbin’s hand move to your thigh.

Just that single move had your entire form frozen in place. 

While your mother continued talking about whatever subject caught her attention, you were left wondering how you should react to the very obvious posturing of Changbin’s hand moving decidedly against your bare skin.

“I’ll probably head back into town tomorrow morning,” Chan said. “I wasn’t able to get much work done.”

You knew it was a playful jab at you, but at that moment you were incapable of coherent speech.

“How is work, Channie?” your mother asked, just as ignorant as the rest of them to the situation unfolding beneath her table. “Anything interesting?”

“Not really,” Chan replied, and you nearly choked on the food you were swallowing when you felt Changbin squeezing your thigh. 

“Try to chew it first, Y/N,” your father chuckled, and you forced a smile which you hoped wasn’t as strained as it felt.

“What about you, Changbin?” your mother politely queried. “Anything interesting happening lately?”

“Maybe,” he said with a tone that was far too knowing.

“Hmmm?” your mother smiled. “You aren’t seeing anyone, are you?”

You knew the question was invasive, but Changbin handled it in stride. “I think it depends.”

“Sounds scandalous,” your mother joked, and you couldn’t have possibly been imagining it, feeling his fingers reach so high under the opening of your shorts that his fingertips touched the outline of your panties. 

You reached down to cover his hand with your own, bringing awareness to the fact that you weren’t ignoring what was happening, and he had every opportunity to pull back.

But he didn’t. In fact, Changbin’s light, playful touches only continued, and you were left reeling for what the intention could possibly mean.

Early the next morning, you were supposed to be cleaning the pool as a favor to your mother, but how could you be blamed for sneaking peaks at your neighbor working out in his backyard? 

“Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath, failing to do a very good job of pretending to be occupied with your current task while ogling the man across the lawn who was in the middle of another round of push-ups, biceps flexing while the rest of his body practically glowed under the sun. 

You knew it wasn’t a crime to permit the occasional glance, but your hardcore staring could certainly be qualified as spying at this point (especially in the direction of a lawyer) - making it blatantly obvious that you were very appreciative of the male form at the peak of performance.

Was Changbin seriously 32? And a father?

The questions boggled your mind, and in your distracted state, you clearly forgot to keep a firm hold on the handle of the pool’s leaf skimmer, huffing in annoyance when it splashed beneath the water.

It was enough to attract Changbin’s attention, and you were sure that your face was just as red as the towel draped over the back of your mother’s patio furniture when he stood to his full height before walking in your direction.

“Were you watching me?” Changbin asked, sauntering over to you with black mesh shorts hanging tantalizingly low on his hips, shirt foregone in exchange for a delightful sheen of sweat coating the skin of his thick upper torso in dripping rivulets. 

“Uh...” you trailed off anxiously, realizing that Changbin wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for your half-assed excuses, especially after what had happened between the two of you last night. 

“You’re not planning on lying to me, Y/N?” he asked, raising one eyebrow in question.

“N-no, Mr. Seo,” you said, shaking your head quickly, barely keeping a firm grasp of your bearings as he abruptly leaned in closer, musk hanging heavy in the air between the two of you. 

“I told you not to call me that,” he said, lips lingering far too close to your ear for a simple neighborly exchange, and you could feel the body heat emanating from him in waves, holding you completely hostage as you briefly entertained the idea of falling to your knees right then and there. 

“What should I call you?” you asked instead, fisting your shirt between your hands because you were desperate for something to ground you in that moment. 

You could practically feel his smirk, holding in a gasp when his hand settled at the low dip in your spine, fitting into the space there as he pulled you tight against his front. “You can always call me daddy instead.”

Your heart skipped several beats at the scandalous words. Either that or you had just entered cardiac arrest.

But before you could muster a response, you found yourself leaping out of Changbin’s hold when the backdoor opened, and your mother was screaming out your name while waving like a maniac. “Oh!” she said when she realized that you weren’t alone. “I didn’t mean to interrupt!”

“We were just talking,” you quickly inserted, glancing at Changbin from the corner of your eye to see him smirking. 

For a while, the very strange flirtation between you and Changbin simmered down, and you tried your best to avoid him when you could, even if he made that very hard to do since he insisted on doing his morning workouts outside in direct line of your bedroom.

It was during the following week that you brought the divine glory of Changbin to your friend, Laura’s, attention, ushering her into your house when she parked on the side of street. “What the hell, Y/N?” she complained when you started practically dragging her up the stairs. “I’ve been driving for hours.”

“Oh, hush,” you said. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Thank you for what, exactly?” Laura questioned, but your response was to simply push her toward the window, standing side by side as you looked through the blinds.

“My new neighbor.”

“Holy fuck!” Laura gasped when she finally joined you, and you could only nod your agreement as the two of you continued to watch Changbin through two narrow breaks in your blinds, wondering how the image of your sexy neighbor simply mowing his grass could make you so wet. “That man is huge!”

“I think he does it on purpose,” you remarked, feeling your heart palpitate inside your chest when Changbin took a moment to pause his chore, reaching down to remove his shirt and tuck it into the waistband of his shorts.

Laura’s gasp was almost outlandishly laughable. “He’s ripped! Like, Sports Illustrated model worthy.”

“I would buy every last copy of that edition.”

“I’d even go a step further and tape the pictures to my wall.”

You both stopped to look at one another, nodding in your collective agreement. “Not here, though, my mom would freak.”

“Yeah, but how can your mom expect you to just ignore...that!” Laura exclaimed, gesturing wildly to Changbin. 

“She thinks he’s a fucking Saint, but I swear to god, Laura, he’s provoking me on purpose! The other night at dinner? He came over and put. his. hand. on. my. leg,” you said, emphasizing the last line with what probably looked like a comical widening of your eyes. “And he works out every morning in front of my bedroom? What the hell am I supposed to think?”

“No think,” Laura sighed dreamily. “Just enjoy the view.”

“Do you think I’m not?” you snorted. “I’m serious about him doing those things!”

“So what?” Laura grumbled. “Why are you actually worried that your fucking super model neighbor wants to make a few moves on you? I would be honored.”

“I’m not worried,” you huffed. “It just feels like he wants something from me.”

“Well, if it’s a good fuck, then send him all the signals you can, girl.”

“Really?” you muttered. “You know I suck with flirting. That’s why I only hooked up with Joshua at those stupid frat parties. He didn’t care that I was an awkward mess.”

“Well, neither will your neighbor,” Laura said. “Especially if he’s as interested as you say.”

You pursed your lips, considering her comment, but the sudden and unexpected sound of your door opening sent both you and Laura jumping nearly ten feet into the air as you hurried away from the blinds as fast as humanely possible to take up some form of normalcy.

No, mom, of course we weren’t staring at Mr. Seo.

“Girls,” your mother inquired as she walked inside, and you prayed that your mother hadn’t caught the two of you taking sly peaks at Changbin outside, but she seemed completely ignorant. “I have a question for you.”

“Hmmm?” you inquired, innocently enough, trying to act like the position that you had forced yourself into on the bed was totally not uncomfortable.

“Changbin needs someone to watch Lucy tomorrow night, but your father and I already made plans,” she said. “But I told him you would be more than happy to come over and help him out.”

You winced when Laura elbowed you in the side, giving you one of those looks that you knew quite well from countless nights of barhopping as sophomores. “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Laura snickered, but you payed her no attention as you hurried to close the door behind your mother’s retreating form, breathing a sigh of relief to hear her walk back down the stairs.

In all of your years of existence, never had you questioned the appropriateness of an outfit to wear to someone’s place to babysit.

“Fuck it,” you eventually decided, settling on regular, well-worn jeans and a college t-shirt.

After all, it wasn’t like Changbin was staying for very long. He claimed he had something to do at the office, and you would be all alone inside his house with only his kid for companionship.

Still, after your conversation with Laura from the previous afternoon, you couldn’t help but feel more mindful about how he might look at you, and you forced yourself to wear your most professional smile when you rang the doorbell to his house, counting slowly from one until he opened the door.

“Hi, Y/N,” Changbin said, and you tried not to blatantly check him out; although, you couldn’t help but linger on the tight fit of his shirt across his pecs.

“Hello,” you nearly whispered, cursing your hormones as you followed Changbin inside.

“I actually have something to tell you,” Changbin said, leading you into the living room so that you could sit down while entered the adjoining kitchen.

“Oh?” you queried, as politely as you could, waiting for him to return.

It didn’t take him long, and you found yourself sitting up a little straighter from where you had made yourself comfortable on the couch. “So, I actually found someone else to watch Lucy,” Changbin explained, coming around to land next to you on the couch with two glasses of wine. 

“You did?” you asked, surprised and taken-aback. 

Why were you here then?

As if he could read your thoughts, Changbin smirked. “Thirsty?”

“Sure,” you agreed, taking one of the glasses and bringing the rim up to your lips. “I’m sorry, I just thought you wanted me to watch her.”

“I did,” Changbin said, and he seemed contemplative as he sipped his own drink. “But then I kinda wanted you for something else.”

“Something else?” you repeated because your mind was spinning those simple words in a thousand different directions, and you were only able to settle on one likely outcome when Changbin’s hand dropped to your thigh, reminiscent of your first dinner together from several evenings ago. 

He suddenly moved in closer to you, allowing you to smell the subtle cologne that he was wearing. “You’ve been watching me,” he said, and you shivered, feeling both hot and cold at the same time as you looked at him.

“S-sir?”

“Don’t play coy,” Changbin continued, and you found yourself observing the way his throat bobbed as he drank. “I don’t mind the attention.”

“You don’t?” you replied, a rather useless question considering the circumstances, and Changbin took your glass and sat both alcoholic selections onto the side table.

“Why wouldn’t I like it?” he asked, tracing little nonsensical patterns on the covered part of your thigh. “You’re a very beautiful girl.”

What. The. Hell?!!

“Mr. Seo, I don’t think-”

“Y/N,” Changbin interrupted, and you were so frazzled and disjointed by the sharp grip he took on your chin, forcing eye-contact that was so intimate, you could feel yourself grow a little bit wetter. “I told you not to call me that.”

It was the only precursor you got before Changbin was delving in, gripping your chin firmly as he connected your lips in a deep, sensuous exchange that had you reeling from the sudden 180 degree turn that the night had taken. 

In one word: everything was rough. Teeth meeting teeth, and tongues rolling in a messy glide against one another. Wet and warm. Silky and smooth. It was everything you needed in a kiss to get your gears turning, feeling your pussy positively throbbing in response.

“That’s right,” Changbin eventually said when he pulled the two of you apart - very much still in control. “We shouldn’t ignore this tension between us.”

“No,” you eagerly agreed, diving in once more for another earth-shattering kiss that rocked you to your very bones, taking the initiative to crawl into his lap, grinding yourself shamelessly against the tight bulge in his jeans while your fingers dug their way into his thick, dark hair. 

“Eager,” Changbin whispered between feverish kisses, keeping your mouths locked together at all costs, even if that meant growing a little bit light-headed from losing too much oxygen.

But you couldn’t get enough of him, not after all this teasing and tension. 

You didn’t care anymore, consequences be damned, and there wasn’t a single part of you opposing his intentional touches, giving him enough space to unbutton your jeans before sliding one hand beneath the waistband of your panties. In response, you moaned into his mouth, bracing your hands against his shoulders as he found the delicate folds of your pussy.

“Do you want me to touch you here?” Changbin asked, and you were feverishly nodding, sweat forming at the top of your forehead, trying your best to hold back your loudest moans when he slid right in with little resistance, moving his fingers around the inside of your cunt, stretching and filling you in a way that you imagined was nothing compared to what the thick cock beneath you could do.

But you would take anything from him, savoring the glide of his fingers since you were practically drenching him in sticky arousal, jerking forward every so often when his thumb pressed down a little too hard against your clit.

All the while, you could feel yourself start to break apart from the heated contact between the two of you, aching and wanting for the release that the look in his eyes told you he had every intention of providing.

And you were enjoying every bit of the journey to get there, bathing in his attention, groaning when his fingers curled up just right to tease your g-spot, and grinding down against the erection confined tightly in his jeans. 

Everything was suddenly so much louder, the sounds of his palm smacking against your cunt, fingers gliding through wetness, and the joined harmony of your combined moans and grunts. 

It was a rapid uphill ascent into the clouds, and you could feel him start to move even faster, pulling against the fabric of your jeans, and there was hardly any time for your mind to truly comprehend what was happening. Lost in a sinful haze of lust and divine rapture, wanting nothing more than to just lose yourself in Changbin.

Except he wasn’t letting you simply drown in the pleasure he was giving you, tugging at your hair to bring you back to the present, to the final string keeping your orgasm just out of reach. “You don’t think I haven’t noticed,” Changbin growled into your ear, keeping one hand tight around your waist to stop your squirming as he continued plunging his thick fingers between the tight walls of your pussy. “I see you looking at me because I want you to look.”

You moaned at the explicit expression of his desires, closing your eyes and returning your head against his shoulder, hips titillating according to the way he moved his fingers inside of you. 

“Cum for me,” he said, and you were more than willing to let go of everything, including the moans you had been trying to hold back, filling the house with the loud raucous of your screams as your orgasm snapped and unleashed a molten hot thrill along your spine.

You were gasping for breath, returning from the highest peak of satisfaction, but Changbin hardly gave you anytime to recover before he was removing his hand from your jeans and forcing you into the floor.

“My turn,” he grunted, and the sound of his belt unbuckling triggered some semblance of rationale, and you were practically salivating over Changbin’s cock, eyeing the red bulbous mushroom head and wondering how deep you could take him. “Well?” Changbin prodded, grabbing the base of his thick erection to brush it across the pout of your lips. “Open wide.”

You whimpered, but obeyed, allowing your tongue to stick out just enough to taste the drop of precum leaking from the tip. It was bitter and unappealing, but since it was from Changbin, you couldn’t resist trying more of him, going further and further down until you felt him at the back of your throat.

Your jaw was already aching from the extension, and a distant thought had you thinking, damn, you were gonna be sore in the morning. But it was completely worth it to hear him moan from above you, fingers tightening in your hair as you allowed him to set the pace, rolling you up and down his cock, tongue sweeping the sides and tip and digging into the little slit where you discovered he was the most sensitive. 

At the same time, you were all but humping his leg, desperate to get off again as he used your mouth for his own personal cocksleeve, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, sending you gagging around his impossible length.

“You take cock like you were made for it,” he remarked, eyes glossing over in a way that had you feeling rather proud of your skills. 

It only lasted for a moment, and he abruptly held himself all the way down for one, two, three seconds until you were whining for him to let you free just long enough to take in another deep breath. 

“Finish me off,” he groaned, and you were working overtime to bring him to the edge, bobbing your head up and down the full expanse of his length, all gorgeous and velvety smooth skin. And you braced your hands against his knees, an anchor to reality, when he finally released down your throat, heavy and warm, causing you to nearly choke as you struggled to swallow every last drop.

“Good girl,” he whispered, petting your head softly as you whined and continued to rub yourself against him, jumping off the brink of orgasmic bliss right after him, allowing your head to fall down between his spread legs.

It was a quiet for a while as you both fought to catch your breath, but then he was moving again, rising from his position on the couch. 

You sat back on your heels at the jostling, whimpering when he stood over you with a menacing sneer, grabbing your face between his hands, forcing your gazes to meet somewhere in the middle even though you still couldn’t completely concentrate. But you were cognizant to at least understand his next words: “Lucy won’t be here tomorrow night, either.”

“Changbin,” you gasped, understanding the implications of his request and shivering at the effect they could still have on your worn-out body. 

“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” he whispered into your ear, keeping eye-contact as he brought his fingers still coated with your arousal into his mouth, sucking while you grew faint at the sight. Then, he pulled them free and knelt down to sear your lips together so that you could taste the riveting combination of your releases on his wicked tongue. 

You returned home that night in a daze, immediately heading for your room after assuring your mother that everything was totally fine with the babysitting, even if you probably appeared a little out of sorts. 

In the meantime, you landed on top of your bed with a sigh, opening your phone contacts to pull up Laura’s name, placing the call without any mind to the late hour.

She answered on the third ring with a curt grunt. “This better be good, Y/N.”

“Oh?” you replied with a nonchalant tone. “I thought you might be interested in hearing about my latest dick appointment.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. “You didn’t.”

“I did!”

“With your neighbor?”

You laughed at Laura’s shrill tone, rolling over onto your stomach with your feet dancing in the air behind you. “I totally sucked him off.” 

“Shit! How big is his cock?” Laura whispered over the phone as if anybody could possibly overhear your conversation. 

“Let’s just say he’s well-endowed.”

“You absolute slut!” Laura exclaimed. “Did he at least return the favor?”

“Oh, he’s a gentleman,” you explained. “He took care of me first.”

“Details!”

“He just fingered me,” you said, even as your mind sprinted with images and sensations; Changbin’s sultry gaze, defined muscles, and the burning desire he had planted deep in your core. 

“That’s hot though,” Laura said. “I can’t believe you actually did anything with him.”

“What? I told you he was sending me signals!”

“Yeah, but I was only halfway assuming that those signals might lead to his fingers in you!”

You couldn’t help yourself, laughing at Laura’s incredulous tone, and spending the next several minutes doing your absolute best to provide a heavily detailed play-by-play of your evening tryst with Changbin. 

“Lucky bitch,” Laura scoffed at the end of your long-winded tale. “I’d kill for someone to fuck me.”

“Well, we haven’t gotten there yet...”

“Yet? Are you planning to go back to him?”

“Obviously,” you said. “There’s unfinished business that I need to take care of.”

“You think he wants to fuck you?”

“I think he wants to do a lot to me,” you purred, smirking at the sounds of Laura’s outlandish squeals from the other end.

Still, you didn’t think those explicit fantasies would come to fruition so soon. But the next night when you returned to Changbin’s house under the guise of babysitting his kid, there were no formalities between the two of you because you both wanted each other in a way that should be considered improper. 

Fortunately, you were tired of caring about other people’s opinions, and it only took Changbin a moment to pull you into his house before his lips were crushing against yours, holding you around the waist as he started working at your clothes.

If whiplash was a thing in moments like these, then you had it bad, trying to follow the taste of him as he backed you both into the bedroom, closing the door and enveloping you both in the gentle glow from the lamp.

“Get on the bed,” Changbin growled when he finally pulled away, reaching down for the hem of his t-shirt. You swallowed hard at the sight of his broad, toned upper form, stumbling backward along the floor, hopping on one leg to finish removing your jeans for him, leaving you completely naked as you lowered yourself onto the mattress. “Good girl,” Changbin cooed, and you shivered at the huskiness of his voice, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation as he blatantly traced the outline of his cock through his jeans.

“Changbin, please,” you panted, already so worked up from just kissing and feeling his hands all over your body that you were desperate for something more.

“What do you want, gorgeous?” he asked, walking slowly around to the front of the bed as you watched him with eager eyes.

“Want you to fuck me,” you said, heart thundering against your chest when he started working apart his belt, pulling down his jeans and boxers and allowing his thick cock to slap up against his abdomen, already so hard for you even though you had just started.

“Hands and knees,” Changbin ordered, and you were surprised by your quick compliance, supporting yourself on shaky limbs as you felt him climb on the bed behind you, tensing when the head of his cock grazed your wet opening. “Look at you,” Changbin rumbled, teasing you even more by running his fingers down your spine, allowing his other hand to reach around to grope your breast.

“Hurry,” you practically begged him, and it was like the metaphorical band had finally snapped, and you moaned when Changbin took a firm hold of your hips, manhandling you back into position. 

“Good girls say please,” he snarled, and your entire form light up at the abrupt command.

“P-please,” you stuttered, and there was an unholy line of curses that left your lips when he directed his cock inside, penetrating you so slowly that you could feel every inch of him until he was snug against your ass.

“Since you asked nicely,” Changbin chuckled, and you had never been so turned on before in your entire life, heart racing and blood pumping, bracing yourself against the mattress when he started thrusting, gentle at first, but then faster and faster as you egged him on, wanting him to go so hard that he split you in half around his cock. 

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped, struggling to maintain any sort of grip on the headboard. 

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Changbin purred into your ear, sounding perfectly put-together despite the fact that he was literally drilling his cock into you. “All those guys you’ve fucked before, I would think your pussy wouldn’t be this tight.”

“You’re just too big,” you managed, crying out when he grazed a sensitive spot. 

“Oh? Is that why this little pussy is leaking so much?” Changbin asked, and you had no response for him, clearly fucked out of all rational thought as his hips slapped against yours in a bruising meeting of skin-on-skin. 

It was undeniable: you had never felt this full before...like Changbin’s cock was somehow reaching all the way to your guts, and you reached down to place a hand over your stomach, imagining feeling the bulge of his cock against the distended skin.

“How does daddy feel?” Changbin whispered into your ear, and if it was possible for him to literally destroy you, then it would be from that heavily suggestive question.

“So good,” you sniffled, tears falling inhibited, leaving your face just as wet as the place where he was crushing himself into you, repeating the same motion of leaving just the tip before re-entering you with added urgency, cock forcing its way between the slick walls of your cunt. 

It was a beautiful melodic song after that (or, perhaps, hard metal would be a much better genre), the rhythm of his hips rolling against your own, hard and then softer, bruising and fleeting, stuffing your pussy on every upstroke, holding you in place by his pure strength. 

You could feel that strength everywhere, the force of his cock squelching between your pulsating walls, the way you moved up and down the bed by his control, and, when you reached back with one hand to feel his arm, the flex of his biceps as his arms worked to move you however he pleased.

“What will your mother say, Y/N?” Changbin asked. “When she finds out that her daughter fucked the man next door?”

Your mother would absolutely lose her shit if she found out that you were willingly spreading your legs for a divorced 32-year old man who had a daughter you were meant to be babysitting. She would be even more taken aback to discover that you loved and craved every second of Changbin’s cock tearing you to pieces, stretching you so good that you imagined that you would still be gaping in the morning, desperate to have him fill you again. 

“Her little girl screaming like a slut for me,” Changbin hissed. “Say my name, Y/N.”

“C-Changbin,” you whimpered, feeling him roll to a slower pace, merely grinding his hips in circles as if teasing you for the answer.

You flinched and nearly cried when he smacked the fleshy part of your ass, trying to look back over your shoulder to see what you had done wrong. “Try again,” he said, giving you a meaningful look that your poor, fucked-out brain still managed to decipher; although, you were burning in your own skin at the thought of saying it out loud....

“Daddy!” you moaned, and Changbin suddenly reached down to catch a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and forcing your back into an even deeper arch. 

“That’s right,” he sneered. “And Daddy’s about to ruin this pussy, fuck it so full of my cum that you’ll still be feeling it when you go back home tonight to your parents and lie about what you’ve done.”

Your next moan was the loudest of the night, overwhelmed by the nasty things he was saying to you, feeling your orgasm gaining speed and traction the longer he kept fucking you, cock moving at a neck-break pace, and fingers wet and hurried over your clit.

The combined friction of his cock and fingers had you reeling, struggling to keep yourself up as he pummeled you into the mattress. Taking great liberties in the screams he was forcing out of you, realizing that if he angled his hips with one of your legs stretched higher around his hip, then he could somehow reach even deeper, kissing your cervix and threatening to steal the breath from your lungs. 

More and More. Faster and Faster. Until the breaking point was right under your nose...

The next thing you remember is a release that was so intense, you managed to black-out when it was all over, pussy fluttering around the distinct waves of pleasure, barely coherent as Changbin continued chasing his own release until he fulfilled his obscene promise to you. 

Three Weeks Later

You had gotten awfully good at keeping Changbin a secret - a dirty and scandalous whisper at that. 

For a while, your mother questioned your insistence on going over to your neighbor’s house to babysit, especially considering your history of being less than willing to interact with children.

“She’s not like most kids,” you lied, waiting for your mother to relent before grabbing whatever bag you needed consisting of your overnight clothes, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible when you walked over to Changbin’s house.

Your mother watched you, at first, standing on the porch as if ensuring that you made it the dozen or so feet separating your yard from that of your neighbor’s. Eventually, she gave up on trying to catch you doing something you weren’t supposed to, but you still kept up appearances, ringing the doorbell and taking a few steps to the side to leave enough room for the screen to rotate on its hinges, offering you the irresistible view of Changbin standing there in all his glory. 

“You’re early,” he remarked; although he seemed to take great pleasure in seeing you as early as possible.

“Is that okay?” you asked with a knowing look, and Changbin chuckled while giving you his most arrogant smirk. 

In return, you smiled back at Changbin, watching him open the door just a little bit wider in invitation.

It was all you needed before surrendering yourself to whatever delicious and mind-blowing ecstasy awaited on you the other side.  

Summer of 69 indeed.

[kireimarkeu]

Yellow; l.mk

+another repost, one of my favourite works ever. its unfortunate not many liked it... ;-; but im still gonna post it anyways. i did not make any changes to this fic.

summary: a journey where boxer!mark and you start to fall for each other.

5.8k words... it wasn’t supposed to be this long.. sorry guys ):

i changed the title because sunflower reminded me of johnny lmfao! also i know you guys don’t like long fics but istg i didn’t want it to be so long either ;;

warnings: mentions of blood & violence, f words 

+Day 1

The loud cheers were really starting to annoy you. Why did you let your friend drag you here in the first place?

You let out a grumbled sigh when your friend had pulled your hand, leading you closer to the ring. Truthfully, you hated anything that has got to do with blood or violence. You didn’t dare tell your friend that since she told you that she has always wanted to go to an underground match.

People were pushing you around as you struggled to keep your balance. You hold onto your friend’s wrist, to avoid from falling.

Your friend must have noticed your discomfort and leaned towards you, “you okay?”

Shaking your head, you reply, “yeah... this- this is just not my type,”

She pouts, “do you want to leave?”

“No, no, you’ve been waiting for this, let’s just watch the match,” you reply, looking back to the ring. Your friend nodded, looking back front.

The match started within a few minutes, both participants standing on each side started getting closer, waiting for one of them to throw a punch.

“That’s Jung Jaehyun,” your friend says, pointing to the one who had chocolate abs. He had some parts of his black hair dyed a dark green, which really suits him.  

Jaehyun.

He was handsome. Pretty face— really pretty face. However, his neck was filled with tattoos, which gets rid of his cute demeanour. You already knew he was the type to get lots of girls just by doing nothing.

“And that’s Mark Lee,”

Your eyes gazed on the boy with black hair.

Oh. 

He’s cute. He’s really cute. Super cute features. Plump lips, cute cheeks— you just want to pinch. You were surprised why he would be in a ring with such adorable features. You wanted to coo at his ears, why are his ears so cute?

If you were to pick one, you would pick the latter. He’s just your type.

Great, you’re doing it again. Thinking which boys you would choose.

Shaking your thoughts away, you focus on the match.

Jaehyun suddenly throws a punch, to which Mark managed to dodge. Mark suddenly throws a punch, straight to the other boy’s cheekbones.

You let out a gasp, flinching at the sight. Though, the crowd continues to cheer.

In a blink of an eye, Jaehyun has Mark under him, his arm tightening around Mark’s neck.

“Isn’t that dangerous?!” you screech, turning to your friend who was happily watching the match.

“That’s what makes it fun,” your friend winks.

Your mouth was left wide open as you look back at Mark who was struggling to breathe. You notice Mark tapping on Jaehyun’s arm as the latter lets go of his crazy tight grip on the boy.

“This is crazy,” you whisper out.

Despite being absolutely terrified of the scene that had just happened, you wanted to see more.

After a few matches, it was declared Jaehyun had won this time’s match. You actually expected it- seeing how he was slightly more builded than Mark. At the same time, you were disappointed that Mark had lost the match.

The people around you started getting closer, excited by the first match. It was making it hard for you to breathe.

You tap your friend’s shoulder, “I am going to step out for a while,”

“Do you want me to follow?” she asks.

You shake your head, “no, enjoy the rest of the match,”

“Okay, text me if you need anything,” she tells you as you let out a hum and step away from the crowd. You climb the flight of stairs, pushing the tinted glass door open. You take a deep breathe, finally able to breathe fresh air.

You rest your back against the brick walls, fishing out your phone to reply to some texts and scroll through Instagram.

“Hey,”

“Oh, jeez!” you jumped, your hand pressed against your chest, turning to see Mark.

Mark laughs, staring at you in amusement, “weren’t you from inside? I saw you,”

You gulp and nodded, “yeah, yeah I was, I saw you too,”

You scan his features. He had multiple bruises and cuts on his cheekbones and lips. You notice a deep cut on his eyebrow, and a bruise on his neck. You look back up to his eyes.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, pointing to the bruises painting his face.

He chuckles at your question, wiping the blood staining his lips. “Your first time here?”

You nod, your head moving to scan the cuts on his face, “are you going to clean that up?”

“I’m okay,” he reassures you, a small smile playing on his lips, “this is nothing,”

You wince. That was nothing? You would be crying in pain if you had that many cuts and bruises on you.

“Okay,” you whisper.

“I’m Mark,” he says again, “what’s your name, pretty?”

Your face turned a crimson red, “y/n,”

“y/n,” he repeats, the name rolling out of his tongue smoothly, “beautiful name for a beautiful girl,”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, “how many times have you used that phrase, Mark?”

Mark was flustered for a moment, but quickly regain his coolness, “well, as of 3 seconds ago… once?”

He laughs when you grimace at his response, shaking your head in astonishment.

“So, what were you doing in an underground boxing, y/n?” he asks you, “you don’t seem like the type to be around this area,”

“My friend has been dying to come to an underground match and she dragged me with her,” you explain.

He hums, “ah, your friend? She really caught Jaehyun’s eye earlier,”

You smirk, knowing your friend definitely has been crushing on Jaehyun too.

“We should set them up!” you say excitedly.

+Day 15

2 weeks later, you were back at the same place. This time, you weren’t forced, you had begged your friend to bring you again. You would go alone but being alone in a place filled with rowdy men scares you. You knew your friend would agree since she wanted to see Jaehyun too.

“You usually don’t like this type of things, why are you suddenly so excited?” your friend asked, grabbing her bag, while you were tugging on her arm. 

You bit your lip nervously, knowing the exact reason why, but you refuse to tell her. 

***

“You’re back again,” says Mark, looking down at you with a smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah, I just need some break from the chaos at school,” you explain. You were actually doing well in school. Unlike other students, you let out your stress from doing work and projects.

Mark hums as he looks around, “wanna go somewhere quieter?”

“But—” you turn away to find your friend, but she was nowhere to be found.

“She’s talking to Jaehyun,” Mark tells you.

You turn back around, holding your breathe when you see Mark leaning awfully close to your face. When he saw your flustered state, he started smirking, letting out a low chuckle.

“Come,” he says, tugging on your elbow, pulling you out of the crowd. Climbing the familiar stairs, the both of you walked towards an empty playground. The both of you take a seat on the swings.

“It’s kinda scary to be in a playground at night,” you state, looking around the extremely quiet area.

You hear Mark laugh at your statement; you look at him confusingly. “You know what you remind me of?”

You raise your eyebrows.

“A sunflower,” he tells you, making you blush. “Anything with the colour yellow,”

“And why is that Mark?”

He rests his head on the rope of the swings as he stares at you, “You seem like someone who is absolutely cheerful, everyone needs someone like you in their life,”

You smile at his sweet words.

Your eyes gaze on his hands that was wrapped in bandages, blood seeping through them.

“Are your hands okay?” you ask, nodding your chin towards his hands resting on his lap.

He looks down at his hands then back at you, smirking, “why? Did I make you worry?”

You look at him like he was crazy, “of course you did! The guy went pretty hard on you,”

Mark felt embarrassed at that. You came to watch his match twice and he still couldn’t win in front of you.

He looks away from your gaze, “it was nothing,” he murmurs.

You were quiet for a while. You felt guilty for bringing it up, knowing he was already beating himself up for it.

“You did great,” you blurted out, “I came to support you actually,”

“Really?” he chuckles, his gaze still on his shoes.

“Yup, you did so well, I think I should take you out for lunch,” you blurt out without realising. Your eyes widen at what you had just said.

Oh god, why did you say that? Did you have no shame? What if Mark didn’t even feel the same way?

Mark swiftly turns to look at your confused face. Fuck, he just wanted to hug you so bad.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” he asks, an amused grin plastered on his lips.

Oh god. 

You quickly face away from the boy who was staring at you with amusement. “N-no,”

He lets out a defeated sigh, “damn, really? I was hoping it would be a date,”

Oh fuck, he was smooth. 

“Shouldn’t you be asking me out on a date?” you huff.

“Do you want me to ask you out on a date?”

“No! I mean—”

“Y/N, will you go on a date with me?”

+Day 17

The date was originally scheduled in 5 days but Mark was too excited and had asked you to meet slightly earlier, to which you agreed.

This time, Mark wasn’t in a tank top and shorts, he didn’t have cuts on his face or bloody hands wrapped in bandages. He was dressed in a button up and black skinny jeans.

He’s so adorable. 

“What,”

“What?” you look at him weirdly.

“You keep staring at me,” he points out, “do I have something on my face? Or am I too handsome?”

You grimace at his words and threw a fry at him, giggles leaving your lips.

Mark wanted to take you out on a proper expensive date, but he was also a broke college student— just like you. He felt bad about not being able to take you out on a proper date, but you had reassured him that you’d rather eat McDonalds kids meal than eat a $50 meal that is the size of a pea.

“You know,” you start, leaning back on the chair, “If I saw you for the first time, I wouldn’t believe it if you told me you were a boxer,”

“Why?”

You shrug, “you look like a baby to me,” you tell him, “just wanna pinch your cheeks,”

He scoffs, puffing out his chest, “I may look like a baby, but I fight like a man,”

+Day 23

Mark: hey are you coming later

You: where?

Mark: my match you loser

You: I don’t think so :(

You: i have a bunch of work to do :((

Mark: :(

Mark: oky then :/ make sure you rest enough

You:  I will :) don’t worry haha

+Day 25

“I didn’t know Mark had many girl friends,” your friend says.

You raise your eyebrows at that. The both of you weren’t official yet, only at the talking stage. He has never mentioned his friends or his family, but the information had your suspicions growing.

You pretend to not be affected by the words, “how’d you know?”

“You know the day you couldn’t come for his match?” you hum, “I think he invited some girls because they were all hugging and talking,”

You would be lying if you weren’t heartbroken by your friend’s words. However, you have no rights stopping him from seeing his friends. The both of you weren’t a couple.

“Aren’t you guys a couple?”

“No,” you answer with a sharp tone, “it’s his life he can do whatever he wants.”

“You’re not fazed by it?”

“Why would I be?” you murmur, “he’s not mine to begin with.”

+Day 35

Mark: hey :)

Mark: it’s been a while

Mark: I miss you

You: I knw haha

Mark: are you coming for my match tomorrow night?

Mark: no no you have to come tomorrow!!

Mark: ok?

You: hahahah

You: I will oky

You: im finished with my work & all so why not haha

You: but I need you to come get me hehe

You: my friend wont be following so its just me :3

Mark: that’s great!!!

Mark: I’ll send u home too ok

You: oky Markie :3

+Day 36

You had your hands resting on Mark’s face, cleaning up his bloody face. Mark had lost this time round; his opponent was three times your size and had beat Mark down like a pipe.

“I don’t even know why I support you doing this,” you mumble, wiping the blood running down his face, “you make me worry too much,”

“I’m okay.”

You glare up at him. “If you think this is okay then I don’t what’s your definition of the opposite.”

He frowns at you but didn’t say a word.

It took you a good 30 minutes to clean up all of his wounds. You lean away from him, “make sure you rest for a week,”

He hums, staring at you, “thank you,”

You felt bad for being so harsh on him. You reach for his hands, holding it in yours, your thumb stroking the back of his hand.

“Can you take me home now? I’m tired,” you sigh.

Throughout the ride home, you had one of Mark’s hand resting on your lap. You didn’t let go for a second, loving the warm feeling of his hand clasped in yours. Before you knew it, his car stopped infront of your apartment building.

You pout, turning to face him., “I don’t wanna leave yet,”

“Me neither,” he chuckles, “don’t go,”

You lips break into a grin, “you loser,”

He hums.

You unlock the door, ready to open the car door but Marks tug on your hands. You face him. He lifts his free hands, his pointer finger tapping on his cheek.

You snicker at his actions, your pointer and middle finger pushing his cheek away. You stick your tongue out when he pouts at you. You open the car door and left the car, shutting it, turning to face the boy who was still pouting.

“Thanks for today,” you say, “make sure you rest for a week before you start working again,” you reminded him.

Upset that you didn’t kiss him, Mark clicked his tongue and gestured for you to go in.

+Day 40

Your eyebrows furrow when you saw the pictures Mark was tagged in Jaehyun’s photo. You knew this photo was recent from the evident bruises on Mark’s face.

You had already warned him to completely heal for a week before going back to work but why was he so stubborn?

The girls who was surrounding the guy you like didn’t go unnoticed by you. You noticed how he had his arms snake around both girl’s waist.

Shutting your eyes close, you let out a frustrated sigh.

“Is this from today?” you ask your friend, showing her your phone.

Your friend takes a look and nods without hesitation.

A loud and angry groan left your lips. Getting up from the couch, you stomped to your bedroom, shutting the door as you climbed in bed.

God, why was liking a boy so hard?

Tears started rolling down your cheeks. You were so frustrated with Mark. You liked him so much that you hated seeing him being hurt— even if it was something he loves doing.

It wasn’t the first time he was seen surrounded by girls. Although the both of you weren’t in an official relationship, you didn’t enjoy seeing him touching girls. Maybe you were being dramatic with the girls, but did you really want to date someone like him? Someone who could potentially be taken away in a flash?

You sit up, rubbing your eyes with a deep sigh. Everyone deserves a chance, even if he had hurt you.

You turn on your phone to send Mark a text.

You: you went to work today?

It took him less than a minute to respond.

Mark: how’d you know?

You: jaehyun’s Instagram

You: I thought I told you to rest?

Mark: sorry :( it was just a last minute match

You: hm

Mark: but on the bright side, I won this time!

Right. Of course he would win the match when you’re not there to support him.

You: was it fun?

Mark: yeah! Our friends came to support us

You: ohh who?

Mark: just some ex-school friends, you don’t know them haha

You: okay hha

Mark: you’re not angr right? Haha

Mark: angry*

You: no why would I be

You: you’re not my boyfriend so I have no right to be

You: mad

+Day 58

“Hey,” Mark sends you a bitter smile, “you okay? Been a whole year since we last saw each other,”

“It’s been 2 weeks, Mark,” you reply dryly.

Mark pouts and takes a seat next to you, “two weeks too long~”

He leans his head on your shoulder as his gaze on your phone. You turn to him slightly, offering your bubble tea to the male who happily accepts. He rests his hand on the plastic cup and your hand holding the cup, pulling it towards his lips.

You giggle, “you’re so cute, Mark.”

He squints his eyes cutely at you as he continues sipping on your drink. You didn’t complain, you love seeing him all happy.

You clear your throat, earning his attention, “I want to ask you something,”

He tilts his chin upwards, “what’s up?”

You try to think of a way to phrase your words together without sounding possessive.

Mark notices your furrowed eyebrows, he cracks a grin and nudges you with his shoulder, “don’t be so serious, what’s up?”

“Are you going to introduce me to your friends?” you blurted out.

Mark fell silent at your question. He wasn’t annoyed or anything— not at all, he couldn’t ever be mad at you. But it was just so sudden, where was this all coming from?

“I mean- you don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” you explain, “it’s not like I want to,” you laugh awkwardly, looking away from the male.

“N-no,” he stutters out, “it was just so sudden, where is this coming from?”

“I’m sorry,”

“Do you want to meet my friends?” he asks.

“I’m not forcing you,” you state, “it’s just a question- it’s not important,” you mumble the last part.

He let out a chuckle, “I want you to meet my friends,” he says, “but, they just…”

You purse your lips, already expecting the answer. Of course he won’t introduce you to his female friends. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t disappointed, but you couldn’t do anything. you can’t force him into doing something he doesn’t want to.

“I’m sorry,” he sounded sincere, too sincere. It’s weird.

You feign a smile, “It’s okay, but I have to go now,”

He frowns, watching you stand up to grab your bag, “already?”

You nod, “I’ll see you when I see you, I guess,”

Before he could even hug you goodbye, you had already left the bubble tea shop.

+Day 62

You had this habit of overworking yourself whenever you were down. You had drowned yourself in projects and work. The incident that happened a few days ago has left your mind, especially when he hasn’t sent you a single text.

“Hey,” your friend called, you hum in response, although your gaze was still glued on your laptop. “Have you been talking to Mark lately?”

Your fingers freeze at his name. Suddenly you were furious just by hearing his name.

“Why?” you reply crudely.

“He’s been asking me about you. Did something happen?” your friend asks, worried about you.

He’s been asking about you? So he has been thinking about you this whole time? Your heart fluttered a little at the thought. You genuinely liked Mark and it sucked that the both of you were already having arguments even before being a couple.

You bit your lip, turning around to look at your friend, “what did he say?”

Your friend passes you her phone, showing the text message between the two.

Mark: hey, im sorry if im disturbing you but

Mark: is y/n okay?

Mark: we haven’t been texting lately and I thought she needed space so i gave her that

Mark: I just want to know if she’s okay? If shes eating healthily?

Your lips tugged upwards at the text. God, he was so cute. You scroll down a little more to read more texts.

Mark: could you update me everyday on how she’s doing?

Mark: I miss her :/

“He really likes you, you know,” your friend says abruptly.

You pass her phone back, looking up at her.

“I know I’m not officially his and I have no right on stopping him who he should hang out with,” you explain, “but it upsets me seeing how he’s being surrounded by girls every single night,”

Your friend places her hand on your shoulder, her thumb caressing your shoulder comfortingly, “you should talk to him about it.”

She was right. Communication is key. You can’t keep it a secret forever. If it upsets you, then you should voice out.

You were going to talk to him about it.

+Day 67

You were at the underground boxing area again. Mark had texted you to come and support him. You were going to talk to him about it today. After his match. This was the only way that was going to make you feel better.

This time, you were standing near the wall, furthest from the boxing ring. Mark had warned you to stay here because of all the rowdy men crowding the area.

“With your petite size, you are just going to be stepped on,” he had said. 

You locked eyes with Mark who was standing in the ring. You automatically grin at him. Mark struggled to keep a straight face after seeing your adorable smile.

‘Good luck!’ you mouth, lifting your hands to show a thumbs up, then sending a heart to the male.

Mark’s heart flutter just by looking at you. He looks away to keep a straight face. Soon, the match started.

“Hi,”

You swiftly turned to see a handsome male standing next to you. You send him a polite smile before turning back to look at Mark.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I’m just here to support a friend,” you say plainly, your eyes gazing on Mark intently.

“I see,” the man says, “I’m Yuta,”

Does he ever stop talking? You hum, hoping it would stop him from talking to you.

“What’s your name?”

You wanted to roll your eyes at his question. You face the man, “I’m y/n,”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he flirts, winking at you. You grimace at his words. “You’re really pretty,”

You didn’t respond, irked by his presence.

“Do you hate talking or something?” he asks you. He rolls his eyes when you didn’t reply. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No, I don’t, Yuta,” you sigh.

“Then? Do you hate me or something? Do you hate someone you’ve never met?” he asks you, leaning closer to you.

Unbeknownst to you, Mark saw you talking to the male and was distracted by it, which resulted in him getting punched in the jaw by his opponent.

Loud gasps and whistles filled the room.

You quickly turn to see Mark laying on the ground, getting stepped on by his opponent. Your hands went up to your mouth, watching in horror. Once his opponent was pulled away, you ran to find Mark, but was stopped by Yuta grasping your arm.

“Let go of me!” you shrieked, pushing his arm away, running to find Mark.

You see Mark in the room, holding his jaw painfully while Jaehyun helped him bandage his hand.

“Mark!” you call, running up to him. You instantly hold onto his elbow, scanning his face that was littered with bruises. He had a black eye too.

Mark meets your worried gaze. His eyes held something different— anger and annoyance.

“Are you okay? Are you badly hurt anywhere?” you ask.

The male suddenly pushes your grip off him, looking away from you. Your eyes widen at his actions.

Did you do something wrong?

You look at Jaehyun, hoping he would signal you something— anything. But he only looked away from you guiltily. You frown at the both of them.

“Mark?” he ignores your voice.

You felt your heart clench painfully. You didn’t know what you did wrong for him to treat you this way. A disappointed sigh left your lips as you turn around, leaving the underground boxing match.

You rest your back against the brick walls, you felt tears trail down your cheeks. You came here with Mark and was expecting him to drive you home, so you didn’t bring any money with you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your fingers wiping the stray tears.

You fish out your phone, unlocking it but only to see a black screen. You harshly pressed on the button multiple times but it wouldn’t turn on. Great, your phone must’ve died. You look around, trying to find someone who could help you out.

“Are you going to get in?” a deep voice says.

You look up to see Mark standing next to his car.

+++++

A shaky sigh left your lips, brushing away the tears that wouldn’t stop leaving your eyes. You look out the window, hoping it would distract you. Another tear rolled down your cheeks.

“Stop crying,” Mark murmurs.

You wanted to scoff at that. How ironic, especially when he was the one who made you cry.

“I’m fucking trying,” you say through gritted teeth.

The car comes to a halt as you see your apartment building outside. However, you didn’t leave his car.

“Did I do something?” you ask. You have been dying to ask the question ever since.

He rolls his eyes, “I don’t know y/n, did you?” he responds sarcastically.

“Can you stop that?!” you shout, turning your body to face him, “Just tell me what I did so I can fucking apologize!���

He scoffs at your words, “who was that man? Openly flirting while I was in a match?”

Your brows knit in confusion. Is he being serious?

“Firstly, I don’t know who the hell that man was, and I was definitely not flirting with him,” you explain, “and secondly, you’re not my boyfriend. So, even if I wanted to flirt, I am allowed to.”

This relationship was starting to get confusing.

“We are in the talking stage!” he shouts, “technically you are mine.”

You laugh at that, “really? I can’t flirt with anyone but you’re out here hugging and touching random girls!”

He becomes quiet, looking away from your intense gaze.

You push your hair back, frustrated. “what now, Mark?”

He looks down at his lap, playing with his fingers. He felt like crying— he never cries. “I don’t think this is working out,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I think we should stop seeing each other,”

You feel your lips tremble, tears threatening to fall again. You close your eyes, the tears falling down your cheeks. Your hands clenched into fists, hoping it would stop you from letting out sobs.

“Okay,” you mutter, “I’m going to go,”

When you reached your apartment, your hand immediately rests on the wall, steadying your balance. You couldn’t even breathe properly as you let out loud sobs. Your heart was beating rapidly from your unsteady breathing.

You felt like you were going to die. You didn’t expect this to hurt so much.

You are going to get through this. You will get through this. 

+Day 83

It has been a few weeks since you had last seen Mark. You had spent most of your time in your room crying your eyes out. If it wasn’t that, you would be sobbing on the couch while your friend would try her best to comfort you.

You didn’t have the energy or appetite to eat. Your friend always made you drink lots of water and would sometimes make a sandwich for you.

Your friend had secretly sent text updates to Mark, but he would just ignore them. He was hurting as much as you were. Just by hearing your name, his heart would clench painfully. Mark had spent most of his time at the ring, taking out his frustration by throwing punches and kicks.

You were washing the dishes since your friend had left to support Jaehyun in the underground match. She had invited you to come with her, but you’d rather stay home, knowing Mark would probably be there.

Your phone started ringing. You let out an annoyed sigh, quickly putting the plate on the rack, then walking over to grab your phone. You answer the call.

“What?” you sigh, “I’m busy cleaning, you know?”

“y/n,” your friend breathes heavily. This was weird. “Can you come here?”

Your eyebrows knit in confusion, “what? Why? What happened?”

“Mark passed out,” she tells you.

Your eyes widen, “w-what?”

“He’s going to be sent to the hospital, you need to come, now,”

+++++

“What room is he in? Is he okay?” you ask, looking at your friend and Jaehyun with wary eyes.

“He’s okay,” Jaehyun says, “he’s in the room,” he nods towards the door.

You had tears threatening to leave your eyes. You couldn’t help but let the tears fall. You felt your body grow weak, you squat down, covering your face with your arms as you let out loud sobs.

It was all your fault. If you hadn’t taken care of him more often, none of this would’ve happened.

Your friend frowns at your state. She bends down and pat your back comfortingly. “Go in,” she persuades, “he has been dying to see you,”

You lift your head to look at her, a small pout on your lips. Your friend wipes your tears with her thumb, smiling at you.

Letting out a soft sigh, you stand up, smoothing your hair and your pants. Walking towards the door, you knock softly before sliding the door open. Mark tilts his head, seeing you walk in quietly with your lips pursed.

He didn’t know what to do. Should he send you a smile? Should he act cold?

When you got closer to him, you scan the state he was in. He had his forehead bandage and his arm in a cast. His lips were busted, a plaster on the bridge of his nose.

“Hey,” you say, voice still raspy from the crying earlier, “what happened?”

He clears his throat and looks away from you. He feels bad making you worried. But at the same time, he didn’t expect you to be here.

“Just a few bruises here and there,” he says.

“Mark.”

“It’s nothing, really!” he exclaims.

You glare at him, “fuck you,” you spit. “I came down here because everyone was so worried about you. I was so worried about you. And now that I’m here, you’re going to tell me it’s nothing?”

Mark was unbelievable. God, why do you like him so much?

His eyes soften at your words. He bit his lip nervously, intimidated by you, he slowly looks up at you, “I just don’t want to worry you,”

You scoff, “your job already worries me, Mark.”

He pouts without even realising. He looks down at his lap guiltily, playing with his fingers.

You felt bad for shouting at him. Letting out a huff, you amble closer.

“You’re okay now, right?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, his gaze glued on his lap.

A pregnant silence fills you two, unsure of what to say to each other. You didn’t want to leave, and Mark doesn’t want you to leave. You bit your lips awkwardly as you look everywhere but Mark.

“I think I’ll leave now,” you say, “I have work to do and I don’t want to… disturb you,”

You stare at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything. disappointment fills you when Mark looks away from your gaze. You turn around, ready to leave the room when Mark calls your name.

“Did you mean it?” he asks, “that day,”

You stop in your tracks, your back facing him. Your grip tightens on your sweatpants.

“Mean what?” you repeat, “you suggested it, Mark,”

“I know,” he breathes, “I regret it,”

You missed Mark. You missed his dumb jokes and his annoying laughter which you loved so much. You turn around to look at him.

“I don’t like seeing you this way, Mark,” you confess, “your job scares me, it worries me,”

“What can I do to make you not worry, y/n?” he asks, eyes widening, “should I stop doing it?”

“That’s not what I meant,” you reply harshly, “if you would actually let me stay by your side, it might ease my worries,”

You step closer to the boy, your hand resting on his cheek. He subconsciously lean against your soft hand.

“I’m sorry for what I said the other day,” he professes, “I..I didn’t mean what I said,”

You take a seat on the chair that was next to his bed, holding onto his hands tightly. “Then, why would you say that Mark?”

“I just—“ he sighs, “I just didn’t want to lose you to someone else, y/n,” he explains, looking up at you, “we weren’t even dating yet! I just knew that I genuinely like you.”

Your heart clench at his words. “I didn’t like seeing you with other girls either,”

“I know,” he huffs, his free hand going up to ruffle his mop of black hair, “I was just stupid,”

Your thumb strokes his hand comfortingly, “It’s okay. It’s all over now,”

“I don’t want to deal with this anymore,” he tells you, “all this, jealousy and possessiveness.”

Is he going to…?

“I have been dying to ask you this question for the longest time,” he continues, “would you like to be my girlfriend?”

[noyasboxdye]

Waiting- Tanaka Ryunosuke

Notes:  I can't really say to much with out telling the story so just have fun reading.

Pairing: Tanaka Ryunosuke x Male! Reader

WARNINGS: none it’s fluff

You and Tanaka have been best friends since you were in about second grade. He's always been there for you didn't matter what the situation was. He was your life line and you were his. So when you started distancing yourself from him he took it really hard. It's not like you were trying to hurt him you thought it was the best option for him. He was focusing on volleyball and his grades so he could get into his dream school and you were a 'distraction'.

But after two painfully slow and extremely boring weeks he had, had enough. He decided that he was going to find you and talk to you and get you to talk back since  the last time he tried to talk to you, you didn't say anything you only stared at the floor while trying to move around him.

He was over it. Yes he had his friends like Noya, Hinata, and the others but it just wasn't the same. He needs you, you're his best friend the longest you guys have gone with out seeing each other was three and a half days because he went on a family bonding camping trip but even then he still called everyday.

Tanaka was fidgeting around in his seat staring at the clock as if it'll somehow magically move faster. The seconds felt like minutes and the minutes felt like hours. But finally after 50 minutes of listening to his Spanish teacher explain the rules for his assignment the bell finally rang for lunch, he could finally try and talk to you and see why you've been avoiding him. He thought you just needed space but usually that only last like a school day and then you both  FaceTime or text all night after finishing homework.

Quickly standing up putting his books in his next class so he doesn't have to rush getting his things out of his locker he finally makes it down the flights of stairs and speed walks to the doors of the lunch room waiting for you to pass by him.

Finally seeing you be quickly grabs your arm takes you under the stair case and traps you into the corner not giving you a chance to escape. You know you can't but you try anyways.

'jeez dude really don't want to see me that bad'

"Could you move please" you mumble while looking at the floor. "No. " he says while crossing his arms. "What?" you say as you look up. "No, I'm not leaving until you tell me why you're avoiding me !" he says with an annoyingly determined look on his face. "I'm not avoiding you... " you mumble looking back down. "Yes you are dude we literally haven't talked in or out of school in two weeks" he says holding up his fingers showing you the number two. "Well -... I've.. been busy more or less. " you say looking down again. "No you haven't I know your schedule like the back of my hand and you know mines! You're avoiding me so tell me why and no lying!" he says like a parent scolding their kid. He waits for you to reply and you just stand there and don't say anything. You thought maybe if you just waited for the bell to ring everything would be fine like last time. But Tanaka wouldn't let you do that again, he was going to get you to talk one way or another even if that meant following you home and staying there.

"You can't just stand here and not say anything. I'm gonna get you to talk whether you like it or not. " You can tell that he's not going to let you go so you just decide to tell him. "...go- fine..." " Yes " he says doing a little victory dance. "Well...what...?" you say trying to stall because you really didn't want him to know that you liked him and what not, you thought it was embarrassing because not only did you not know how to control yourself around him but he was straight. You felt like an idiot but now's not really the time for sulking with your huge math test coming up. " Why are you avoiding me" he asked getting straight to the point. You knew it was coming but you were still kind of thrown off by it. Slightly rolling your eyes you say "I told you I've been -" he cuts you off, "Busy yeah yeah. Now what's actually going on, are you like mad at me or something what did I do? " he said getting a little sad at the thought of his best friend being mad at him for unknown reasons. "No, not at all I could never be mad at you bubs." you say feeling guilty. "So then what?" he says. He was getting impatient there was only so much time before you both had to go to class and he didn't know if he would get an opportunity to talk to you like this again any time soon. "Uhm- I'm giving you space because you said that you we're trying to get in to that volleyball program for your college application (idk if it's actually called that I just pulled that out of my ass lol) I didn't want to be a distraction." you said regretting telling him the truth. "You're not a distraction (M/N) I don't know why you thought that." he said getting closer. "Well didn't you bomb your test because of me..." you said like it was obvious. "What-... no. I bombed my test because I didn't study and I ended up falling asleep, but that was because I was binge watching assassination classroom with Noya. We gave up on studying so I wasn't prepared either way.  

You were relieved. I mean you still were going to  avoid him because you're like head over heals for this boy but still at least you know that him failing wasn't your fault.  Well now we have to think of another excuse instead of you liking him, maybe you'll try out for a sport. Maybe swim that seemed like a good sport ran from 3:40- 6:00 then your schedule would be full and then Tanaka would leave you alone.

"So can we hang out today? You don't have anything to do." he says with a hopeful glint in his eye. You couldn't say no not while he was looking at you like that and you just cleared things up... kind of. "Yeah sure! Where do you want to go the movies maybe? I don't have any homework today." you say while thinking about how much you missed him. "Yeah sure and we can get food after!" Tanaka says jumping a little while you giggled at his movements. "Ok meet me outside after school we can drop off our bookbags at my house and then we'll go." he says while smiling with the faintest blush on his cheeks. "Ok see you after science.

••time skip>••

The school day was over and you were at your locker grabbing the things that you need to take home. You grabbed your things and walked out to the front of the school to meet up with Tanaka. You really didn't know how you were going to make it through this afternoon and probably evening with him. "(M/N)" you turned your head towards Tanaka and smiled. He really did make you happy. You hated that you couldn't be around him with out blushing, getting flustered, or over thinking. He was perfect. He really could do everything and flawlessly.

"Hey Tanaka!" you say while running up to him. "So where do you want to go? Still want to do the movies?" he asks looking at you. "Yeah sure I'm up up for the movies. You want to eat before or after?" you ask. "Uhm-... I don't really care we can do what you want to." he says rubbing the back of his neck. "Ok maybe we can eat before and then watch the movie. What do you want to watch?" you say kind of unsure about yourself. "Maybe we can go see (F/M)?" he asks while you guys turn down his street. "Oh yeah sure."

It had felt like so long since you both hung out. It was refreshing being with him again he was like a breath of fresh air for you after stressing about homework, grades, projects, and things like that- basically school as a whole- he was like reminder that everything was going to be ok and that its fine to take breaks (you tend to over work yourself). It was one of the reasons you liked him.

"Come on!" he says as he turns on to his lawn. You hum in acknowledgement as you follow him. "You can put your stuff in my room. Do you want or need anything before we go?" he asks opening his door and walking towards his closet. "No, thanks though."  you say putting your bag down next to his bed. "Ok well I'm gonna change my shirt and grab a jacket." he says taking his shirt off and you blushing like a mad man. "Take one of my hoodies if you want I know how easily you get cold and how cold it can get in the movie theatres." he says looking for a new shirt. "Oh ok thanks dude." you say walking towards his closet and going through it finding one that you liked. "He should we pack a bag? Like with blankets and our own snacks and stuff." he says putting on his signature cologne and grabbing his jacket. "Yeah I think we should. I don't want to pay 20 dollars for 3 boxes of candy when I can get them for four at dollar tree." you say while finally finding a hoodie that you liked and putting it on.

You were going insane while packing the bag. every time you moved his hoodie scent made its way into your nose, you absolutely loved it. The nice smooth vanilla scent with hints of honey and mint it was paradise for you. You were seconds away from loosing it and squealing. I mean like you wouldn't because you would probably never be able to look at him again but still you get the point. He dumped a whole bunch of candy on the bed and said "there now we don't need to buy candy" while looking proud of himself. "Holy crap dude where'd you get this?!" his mom never let him eat a lot of candy so him having this much surprised you. "Secret stash. I've been saving it and buy it then not eating it. Specifically for occasions like this so I don't have to spend as much money.

You put the candy at the bottom of the bag then blankets, your chargers, and water bottles for the both of you. He walks up to the door and sticks his head out of it "SAEKO!!" you flinched slightly being caught off guard. "WHAT" you didn't even know she was home. "TAKE ME AND (M/N) TO THE MOVIES" he says sticking his head back in the room. "Are we sure that's the safest option?" you say feeling unsure about being in the same car as her while it's on and she's in the drivers seat. "I mean no it's not but like it'll be fine and plus would you really rather walk almost twenty minutes with this bag than let her drive us?" he says while zipping up the bag and and putting it on his arm. "Yes. Yes I would rather walk than be in a car with her driving have you seen her drive?" you say while laughing a bit. "Um no slandering my driving its immaculate." she says walking in. "Shawty bae... now you know that that's a damn lie." you say holding in laughter. "Well I think her driving is fine" Tanaka says grabbing you and Saeko's hand and walking out of his room into the kitchen to fill up the water bottle's.

Time skip

After telling Saeko thank for taking you too to the mall you both get out of the car and go inside. You still had time before the movie and were both really hungry you went to (F/R) waited for the waiters to take you to your seat. "So what are you gonna get?" Tanaka says finally breaking the silence. "Oh um I don't know maybe (F/F) still trying to decide." you say looking up at him from your phone putting it away from texting your (P/F) that you might bee home later than usual since it was already starting to get a little dark out. "Hello, I can take you to your table now" the waiter says as Tanaka goes to stand next to you an grab your hand. "Ok thank you." you say blush at the contact, it seemed like he was blushing but you brushed it off as the lighting of the restaurants lighting. You sit in your seat and say a quick thank you to the waiter as he handed you your menu. "Hi my name is Mafuyu and I'll be your waiter today, can I start you off with some drinks or do you need a minute?" the waiter says smiling and pulling out his notepad. "You can go first." Tanaka says putting his menu down with a small smile and a hint of blush on his cheeks.

Tanaka's POV

I'm going to confess to them tonight. I was suppose to a while back but I chickened out and then they started avoiding me so that made it harder, but I'm for sure going to do it tonight no matter what. I told Noya so he knows, he said that if they  rejected me that he had ice cream, candy, and Attack on Titan ready for me to come over all I had to do was be there.

I think they like me back I could be wrong though they don't really talk about there emotions and stuff. But I'd like to think that I'm pretty good at reading them. They said yes to hanging out which I thought they were going to say no to but didn't which is good so phase one of the plan is complete. Next phase is to make them get that happy glow that they get when they're really happy and comfortable around someone. I really like when that happens they're like-...ok you know those super cute, calming and aesthetic cottage core videos on tiktok where they like wear the pretty dresses and the elf ears and are really pretty and they make you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside? Yeah that's what they're like but better.

The waiter guy is flirting with them you can tell. (M/N) probably just doesn't care or isn't thinking of it in that way. "-naka, Tanaka! Jeez dude you were like super zoned out, anyways what do you want to drink?" (M/N) says while giggling. "Oh sorry a  loganberry will be fine." I'm literally so freaking embarrassed right now what the fuck.

"Would you like bread while you wait?" Mafuyu says looking up from his notepad. "Do you want bread" (M/N) asks looking down from the waiter to me. "Yeah we can get bread I don't really care" I say as I shrug my shoulders. "Ok then yea we'll get bread." (M/N) smiles at the waiter as he says that, god they're so pretty what the fuck. "Alrighty~... I'm gonna go get your drinks and bread and I'll be right back. "Ok thank you." (M/N) says going to look back at me. I look up from the table and see them blushing. I wonder if they think that Mafuyu guy is cute, maybe I mean he wasn't ugly he was pretty good looking and it did seem like he had a bit of muscle not a lot but enough to be able to throw a good punch. I notice (M/N) look up at me and "Thank you..." he said. What. "Why're you saying thank you" this really wasn't making sense I didn't even do anything for them to say thanks... well not that I know of. "For following me around and not letting me avoid you. I appreciate it, didn't know how much I missed you." I'm going to combust. Holy shat! They- He- I- HFRNJRSBRB!!! I probably look like a fire hydrant right now. "Oh- um you're welcome! It no big deal really I just missed you and didn't know what was going on hahah." I sound so awkward oh my god I'm embarrassing myself. Ok Noya said be fresh cut swag.

"Here are your drinks, bread, and butter. Are you ready to order or do you need a minute?" the waiters back I really don't like him. He keeps flirting with (M/N) and I mean like its not like (M/N) knows, and they would probably say no if he just asked like randomly and (M/N) isn't like prepared or anything or like doesn't know he's flirting with him. "-and what would you like to order sir?" I look up at the waiter, I mean if (M/N) did date him I could see why he's pretty cute and seems nice but that's also his job as a waiter so- "can I get a bacon cheese burger with a side of fries, Please." I smile at him as he writes my order down. "Is there anything else you'd like" Mafuyu asks looking in-between the both of us. "Yes, please instead of putting the pickles on the sandwich can you put  them in a little container please.  Oh- and can I get blue cheese with my burger. If it's not to much." I say. "Oh absolutely no problem, is that all?" he says writing in his notepad.

"Is that all?" Mafuyu says looking at (M/N). "No I don't want anything else, thank you though!" (M/N) says smiling and going to take a sip out of his drink. Mafuyu walks away putting his notepad in his pocket. "So what time does the movie start?" (M/N) says going to grab a biscuit and put butter on it. (sorry if you don't eat bread lol) "It starts at 9:30... it's 7:00 now so we should have enough time to walk around a little before the movies if you want." I say while eating my bread. "Ok." its kind of awkward right now... I'm just going to- "I'm washing me and clothes" I say while looking down. "To put a fucking story short I shoved a whole bag a jelly beans up my ass, an' it's 24 hours later an' I ain't find nun yet" He said looking up at me grinning widely. "You think those jelly beans ever come outta her ass?" I say looking back at him. "I don't know but I'm finna try and find out" (M/N) grabs his phone and sits there for like five minutes. "So- I can't find anything on it but I think she did...because she could like shat them out or like go to the doctors... I don't know- anyways...-" he says looking up from his phone.

Mafuyu comes up to the table asks if we want more bread and gives something to (M/N) smiles and walks away. "Oh my fucking god what fuck-... uhm... shit." (M/N) says with a panicked look on his face as he turns to I'm assuming look for Mafuyu. "What- what's wrong?!" I say worried. "Uhm- fuck-... he gave me his number! And I like someone!...What the fuck do I do with this?!" he says whispering a little. " I mean I don't fucking know give it back maybe...? You could always throw it away if you don't want to tell him." I say trying not to think about how I'm basically fuming at the fact that 1.) Mafuyu FUCKING hit on him!! 2.) he likes someone and I'm like 85% sure it's not me ugghhh. "Well obviously I can't do that, that's like mean! I'll just tell him- yeah it'll be fine just- tell him." he says starting to calm down and get blush a little. "Yeah and plus if he's a douche I can always fight him.." I say starting to feel a little better about the situation.

Time skip about 15 minutes

"Hello! Here is your (F/F) and here, is your burger with... the.. sides." he says sticking his tongue out looking determined. "Hey um thank you so much for the meal and stuff, but I'm... not interested so... take your number back." (M/N) says while slightly cringing and flinching when Mafuyu chuckles to himself. " oh my god no- please this is so embarrassing crap. Uhm I wasn't trying to flirt I just wanted to be your friend but didn't know how to ask shit- I should've put context- fuck-... I have a boyfriend.. plus I'm not a home wrecker I wouldn't try to ruin your date with your boyfriend please I feel so stupid. I'm sorry jesus christ I'm dumb." Oh- well it's fine... sorry haheh. And we aren't dating he's straight." (M/N) says smile getting smaller a bit. "Oh I'm so sorry jeez you both just were looking at each other like you were in love and he was holding your hand when you first walked in so I just assumed sorry-...! "Oh no it's fine we get it a lot anyways it's kind of funny to me.

Damn, that shit hurt. Yeah I'm totally going to tell him when the night's over because friend zoning dude really ?

After everything cleared up with Mafuyu we ate our food and left. We were walking around the mall going into different stores and getting things. "You want it?" Tanaka says noticing (M/N) looking at a vinyl by (F/S). "Oh umm yeah, but I don't have the money for it." you say looking down and going to look at different clothes. "Okay." he says going to look for new beanies. After walking around for about 15 minutes you both decided that you were ready to leave and start walking towards the movie theatre. You and Tanaka walked up to the cash register. Putting your things on the counter while the cashier scans your stuff. After the cashier finishes ringing your stuff up and Tanaka put his things down he did a awkward speed walk straight towards the section of vinyl's grabbed the one he was looking for and ran back.

"Sorry just had to grab one more thing." he says putting the vinyl you were telling him about earlier on the counter and pulling out his wallet. "No problem sir" the cashier says continuing to scan his things. Putting the clothes, vinyl's, and other random things in bags Tanaka grabs his bags off of the counter and bids a good day and farewell to the cashier, grabbing your hand and practically skipping out of the store. Getting on the escalader and rummaging in his bag he grabs the vinyl and pushes it towards you. "What?" you say confused on what to do with the 1931 edition of a CD. "Here. Take it. It's yours, you were saying how you wanted it but didn't have the money so... I got it for you. So take it." he says pushing the vinyl further towards you.

"You really shouldn't have. It was honestly no big deal like I would've been fine without it, I would've just bought it another time honestly-." you say rambling a bit. "Hey it's fine! I wanted to so don't worry about it too much." he says rubbing the back of his neck with a faint blush on cheeks. "Oh um ok... thanks then..!" you say looking at the floor while feeling your cheeks warm up. "Yeah it's no problem!" he says as you two step off of the escalator, walking towards the theatre.

While standing in line to get your tickets you say "which vinyl did you get?" Tanaka turns towards you while stepping forward and says "I got Tyler's flower boy and cherry bomb albums" hearing this your eyes light up and you reply with "dude we got to listen to them when you get home oh my god!" Tyler was one of the main reasons you and Tanaka were best friends. Well Tyler and the banana fish manga. (if you don't like tyler the creator then pick another artist this is just a head canon lol)

Flash Back

"Hey do you know where the manga section is?" you  say walking up to the blond haired boy. You were new to the school and  didn't know where anything was. The school was like a maze and everything seemed so far from each other. "Yeah, follow me!" the boy says practically skipping and running on his way there. The library was bigger than you thought it would be, your old schools library was nothing compared to this one. "So you like anime huh..." the tan skin boy says. "Yeah it's really cool." you say looking down the aisles for the yellow book with bold black letters.

"So what you looking for, I might be able to help you find it." he says walking closer next to you. "Oh no it's fine you don't have to!" you shaking your hands in front of you. "No really I want to plus your new your going to need help with stuff anyways!" he says in a semi hyper tone. "Okay well it's called banana fish and it has a yellow cover-" you say before getting cut off. "You sure that you want that book." he says looking at you with wide eyes. "Yeah, I got books 1 through 10 but I can't find the others." you say continuing to scan the shelves. "Well the books are over here... I don't know if they have 11 though it might be being used." he says walking to the next aisle as you follow him looking at all the other books they had. "Ummm yeah. Here!" he says holding books 11 and 12 in his hands shoving them towards you. "Oh thanks!... well I have to start heading to my next class so uhm... bye! Have a nice day!" you say walking towards the lady at the front desk to check out the books that you had been searching for, for what felt like like all of eternity.

"Hey, I can take you to your class if you'd like."  the newly met male says while you both walk out of the library doors together. "Well I mean I wouldn't want you to be late because of me." you say continuing to walk. "Its fine and we're going in the same direction anyways- well I'm assuming." he says both of you turning the corner. "So what class do you have?" the blond hair  male says turning his head towards you.

"Um I have chem." you say looking at your schedule to be sure. "Same! Which teacher?" he says smiling. "Oh I have Mr. McGill." you say hesitantly while checking your schedule once again. "I have him too, I can totally show you if you want." he says perking up a bit. "Yeah sure! Also, what's your name? I never got it." you say stopping in front of the classroom door and resting your hand on the handle. "Oh sorry heheh I'm Tanaka... and you are..." he says nodding his head your way. "I'm (M/N) nice to officially meet you, Tanaka." you say smiling. "Yeah, nice to meet you too."  Tanaka says staring into your eyes.

Real Time

"-(/N)! (M/N)!... you zoned out there for a sec, come on." Tanaka says reaching for your hand and pulling you towards the doors that lead you to the lobby and the usher who's waiting to take peoples tickets. "Sorry, I just got lost in thought you explain as you look for (F/C) as Tanaka tried to decide on which ICEE flavour to get.

Walking up to the counter Tanaka asks "hey which flavour should I get?" replying you say "Well your going to get coca cola and cherry mix anyways so why ask?" "You know-... you're right. And why do I ask...? I do it every time we go to the movies." he says you both waiting for the woman in front of you to finish ordering her stuff. "I honestly don't know. But which should I get?" you say watching the lady leave letting Tanaka order for the both of you. Ordering your own food was never really for you.

After ordering snacks paying for them (obviously) and going to meet the usher so you can watch the movie, you both walk into the theatre noticing that there were very few people in the theatre. "You would think that that there would be more people considering its new." you say whispering to Tanaka while trying to find your seats. "Yeah but maybe we're just early." he says sitting in his seat and getting comfortable. "Dude... the previews are over now people just aren't watching the movie." you say going for the big container of popcorn. "I missed this... like hanging out with you like this." he says smiling at you. You becoming grateful that you both are in the dark at the feeling of your face heating up and a fierce blush going across your cheeks. (sorry if you're dark skin I know people can't really tell when you're blushing.)

The movie started and you were about 30 minutes into it. Getting some more popcorn you and Tanaka both reach in at the same  feeling your hands caress one another. Blushing for what felt like the millionth time you grab the popcorn and shove it in your mouth. Tanaka blushes and mutters a quick sorry. "It's fine." you say grabbing your slushie and taking a sip.

After a while the movie got to the best part and that's when Tanaka decided to be a little bold.

Tanaka's Pov

I'm finally going to make a move. Then hopefully I can have more of a chance with (M/N). Deciding that now would be a good time to act on my idea I grab (M/N)'s hand in one swift movement and intertwining my fingers with theirs rubbing my thumb across the back side of their hand.

They seem a bit- "You okay? Do you want me to let your hand go?" I whispered in a questioning tone worried that they didn't like me holding his hand. "No you're fine. But can I have some of the Twizzlers and sweet tart ropes?" (M/N) whispered. "Yeah here." I state handing him the candy.

I think I might have a pretty good chance with him. But we've always had a touchy relationship so its hard to tell. I really hope that they do though. It would be so fucking embarrassing if I took all his kindness and touchiness the wrong way.

20 Minute Time Skip

Getting our garbage and heading towards the door as the movie plays the credits and closing song. Walking out of the theatre, missing the contact of (M/N)'s soft chubby/slender hands I go to grab (M/N)'s hand. Feeling a chill go up my spine while feeling my face progressively get warmer I ask "You want to spend the night? It's getting late." looking at him. "Yeah it is pretty late I tell my (P/F) that I'm staying the night."

Third Person POV

"They said okay." you say putting your phone in your pocket. "Okay, I texted Saeko and she said she's on her way. She's supposed to be no longer than 15 minutes away." he says checking his phone and going to sit on the bench waiting for the blond haired woman and you following in his footsteps. "Hey so can I talk to you about something..." the usually loud and hyper boy says you barley able to hear him. "Yeah sure what's up?" you say going to face him. "So um I'm Bisexual..." he says neevously playing with his thumbs and avoiding eye contact. "That's so cool dude! I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me!" you say a soft smile on your cheeks.

'Maybe I have more of a chance now... nah prolly not he's fucking whipped for Kiyoko' you think as Tanaka smiles giving you a hug and you doing the same to him. "Thanks dude." he says as his phone notifications goes off and reading the message saying that his older sister is outside waiting for you both. "Hai (M/N)! So how was the date~?" she says a huge smile on her face. "HUH- a date what no- he doesn't like me like that we're friends." you say giggling a bit feeling a slight pain in your chest. You really didn't want to be friends with him but as long as he's in your life you feel s though you'll be fine. "Saeko shut up and take us home." he says rolling his eyes playfully with a small smile as he grabs your hand, once again making you blush.

Arriving home and walking through the door you get a smell of fresh baked cookies. "What's that smell it smell so fucking good oh my god!" you say as you and Tanaka basically sprint into the kitchen. (On a Usain bolt type beat.) "Holy shit they smell so good." Tanaka says mouth watering and going to get  a plate to put some on for you both. "Hey- nuh uh no- these aren't for you! Make your own I still have some cookie dough left use that." Saeko says snatching the plate from Tanaka and putting it back in the cabinet after slapping his hand away from the cookies.

"What you making them for cAoCh uKaI~" Tanaka says in a mocking tone. "As a matter of fact yes I did. I owe him and he told me to make him cookies." she says sticking her head up and crossing her arms. "Bleh! Saeko could you please not flirt with him he's my coach dude I thought we agreed people like that were off limits!" Tanaka says in a whiney type voice practically throwing a temper tantrum.

"Oh shut up it's just cookies and plus I'm the older one here so you can't tell me what to do!" Saeko says sticking her tongue out, Tanaka doing the same. "Come on (M/N) we're going up stairs. She's about to start fawning over him" Tanaka says fake gagging while you giggle making your way up the stairs.

After going up stairs you take a shower remembering you didn't have any clothes. "TANAKA~!" you yell opening the door to the bathroom and wrapping your towel around your body and walking towards his room. "Yeah?!" he says opening he door and peaking out of it. "Do you have any clothes?" you say grabbing your leave in conditioner and combing/picking out your hair. "Yeah just pick something out. Anyways I'm gonna go take a shower." he says grabbing his clothes towel and walking out the door.

Coming back in Tanaka flops on his bed scooting next to you resting his head on your shoulder. "What you watching?" he mumbles snuggling more into you. "Twitch." you say resting your head on his. "Oh. Who's that?" he says looking up at you. "Quackity and Corpse." you said. "Oh they're cool." he says. Silence filling the room.

"Hey can we talk?" Tanaka says sounding a bit to serious for your liking. "Uh yeah sure." you say taking your headphone out and sitting up facing him. "So we've been friends for a while now and we're like super close, obviously, and I really like being around you and spending time with you and stuff..." Tanaka says playing with his fingers and hesitating slightly. "Tanaka what's going on? You okay, you bouta like die or something." you say jokingly trying to lighten to mood.

"Okay wait no- so um-... I kind of like... you... romanitcally-" he says avoiding eye contact. "Huh?" you said thinking you miss heard him. "If you don't like me back that's fine. We can pretend I never said anything, I'll just get over it-" he said before you cut him off with a kiss on the cheek, practically looking like a rose. "Um I like you too." you say smiling at him. "Really" the short haired boy looks up at you practically glowing. "Yeah. You wan to go on a date?" you say gushing hard as ever. "Yes!!- I mean yeah sure..." he says scolding himself for not being cool. "Okay." you say smiling at yourself and going to lay back down trying to calm yourself.

"You want to watch something?" he says laying down next  to you putting his head back to the spot it was at before. "Yeah... what you want to watch?" you say hugging him. "Wait so I found this girl on Youtube and I know you don't really watch content like hers but she cool as hell. Her Youtube name is liyah li." he says grabbing his remote and opening youtube.

After watching the recommended channel you both went down a rabbit hole watching her videos for a while, finally deciding that you wanted to go to sleep you both put on a random show him holding you in his chest kissing you on the nose and falling asleep with a smile on your faces.

[livexdolan]

The Cage - Part One

A/n: so hi! This is a UFC based fic about Grayson Dolan. This is an AU with an OC. There is no face claim as of now but they might change idk. I’m not going to ramble lol I’m just very very nervous. Anywho please enjoy and let me know what you think! There will be many parts to this series by the way lol so this part is kind of slow but just wait aha

Word Count: 5924

Warnings: fluff, mentions of death, explicit language, and triggering topics (maybe?) mentioned

“I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be famous- never telling anyone but I’ve always wanted to know- wanted to get in the head of someone famous and see what they go through- but I could’ve never guessed this was how I was going to find out.

It all started when I was 22, fresh out of college, with a crappy assistant job at a publishing company in Los Angeles, California. Having been stuck at this job for almost three years and never even having my articles read, I was starting to lose hope that I would never be more than an assistant. Until one day…”

“Lily! Get in here! And bring me a coffee!” I scurry to Mr. Lane’s office, clutching the coffee I had just gone and grabbed for him, stopping by my desk to grab my notebook and pen.

I opened his glass door and put his coffee down on his desk, pushing up my glasses as I opened my notebook and clicked my pen, looking up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say what he needed me to do. He looks at me, his eyes bright at first but quickly losing their color and he sighs as though he’s already exasperated, “What is this?” He holds up a copy of a story I had put on his desk.

Oh jeez, another rejection. I push my glasses up again and start to stutter out an explanation in a quiet voice, “Well, I-I heard you talking to some of the reporters about need-needing a new story for next week's issue and well, I-I already had an idea so I thought I’d-” He cuts me off with a quick raise of his hand and a stoic look on his face, giving nothing away.

“Look,” he sighs and rubs his face with both hands before continuing, “It’s not a bad story, but it’s a half-baked idea. That’s your problem. That’s why you haven’t gotten a byline yet- you can never deliver a full idea- let alone a full article, do you understand?”

I look down, refusing to let him see my cheeks burn red and my eyes water. This is what he says every time I give him an idea. “Do you want to be a journalist?” He questions.

I make eye contact with him quickly lifting my head and squaring my shoulders to try and seem more confident, “More than anything, sir.”

“Well then, I have a proposition for you.” He gets up from his chair, his tall, lean body going to perch on the corner of his desk as he looks up at me his blue eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint, “I’ll give you a lead, and if you can follow through and get me a full 12000-word article by Monday, you can keep your job and I might throw you a lead here and there. But if you fail to deliver…” He pauses momentarily, thinking over his next words carefully, “you lose your job.”

I gasp and try to reason with myself for a second, making a mental pro-con list before replying quietly, “What’s the article on?”

He shakes his head and smirks lightly, filling my stomach with more unease, “No, you have to agree to the proposition. Then, I will tell you the story.”

Can I do this? Can I risk everything? I mean, that’s what my life’s been so far, a lot of risks and sacrifices. But is this a sacrifice I’m willing to make?

What would mom do? I sigh, “O-ok. Okay, I accept. Now, what’s the story?”

He claps his hands together excitedly and looks up at me with a boyish grin, he moves swiftly behind his desk and grabs an envelope, handing it to my shaky hands, “Grayson Dolan, he fights tonight here at the arena, go with a press pass, get an interview with him and ask him a couple of questions. Oh, and make sure we get a quote.”

I stare at him open-mouthed, frozen to my spot, “What? The Grayson Dolan?! You and I are both very aware that he refuses to do interviews. This isn’t even possible.” I say without trying to raise my voice too much.

Jace just leans back in his desk chair, lacing his fingers together and putting them behind his head, “Not my problem- it’s yours now. If I don’t have that story in my hand Monday morning, just pack your things up and leave, got it?” He smirks up at me.

I just silently walk out of his office and back to my desk, sitting down and putting my head against the cool wood surface. I don’t know if I want to cry or punch myself in the face.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“And then he told me that if I accept- but fail to give him a story- I lose my job!”

“Wow! I never liked that guy, you know. He gives off such- such a douchebag vibe.”

I can’t help but chuckle at my dad’s voice dropping a little, he hasn’t been big on cursing since mom passed. At first, it was weird because both my parents cussed when I was growing up. But after mom passed, dad decided that, ‘there’s enough hate in the world’ and that he’s not going to add to it with foul language.’

“I know Dad, but what am I supposed to do?”

“Don’t accept it! You should never risk your whole career on whether or not some guy is feeling up to an interview!”

“Ok, one-” I start, “it is not just some guy! This is Grayson Dolan! And two,” I lower my voice and chew my lip, a bad habit I picked up in middle school, “I already agreed.”

“Of course you did!” he sounds exasperated and I pull my phone away from my ear a little out of reflex, “You are just like your mother, you know that?” he sighs and the line goes quiet.

“Daddy?” I whisper into the phone. He stays silent. It’s my turn to sigh and fall back onto my couch. I mutter into the phone, “He wouldn’t tell me the story until I accepted. I have to go get ready, I’ll talk to you after the match. I’ll be sitting ringside so look for me, ok?”

“Ok, I will. I’m still not happy about this.”

“I know Dad, you’re not happy with two-thirds of the things I do.”

That gets a reluctant chuckle out of him, “I guess you’re right. Good luck, by the way. If anyone can get an interview out of Dolan- it’d be you. And if you can’t, your childhood bedroom would love to have you back.”

“Ha-ha. Thanks. I love you.”

“Love you too baby, I’ll see you soon?”

“Dad,” my stomach drops at his hopeful voice and I can’t bring myself to tell him the truth, “Maybe, bye.”

I hang up the phone before he can say anything and I sink into the couch.

I wake with a start, my neck sore from the back of the couch. Oh no. I grab my phone in a haste, I turn it on and my whole body sags in relief when the time shows up; 6:45.

I have about an hour and a half to get ready, that’s enough time!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Wrong. Very wrong. I feel a wave of heat wash over me, igniting my anxiety as I look at the time on my phone; 7:45.

I quickly put on my normal, light makeup consisting of moisturizer, skin tint, blush on my cheeks and nose, giving me an almost sunburnt look. I shape my eyebrows a little, fix my glasses, and put on my chapstick. I quickly brush out my short, wavy hair and clip back the front parts. I shake my head slightly to get my bangs in place and do one last check in the mirror before heading to my closet.

Too pink. Too casual. Too tight. Too- ugh where did I even get that from? I start moving the hangers faster, getting frustrated with my lack of options. I move past a pastel purple dress- wait. I go back to the dress and grab it off the rod, holding it up in the light.

When did I buy this? My eyebrows furrow as I look at the beautiful and delicate dress that I must’ve forgotten about. I pull it off the hanger and slowly put it on, saying a silent prayer that it fits.

I smooth the soft material out and look in the mirror. I’m pleasantly surprised by how the dress fits. It’s silk with spaghetti straps and is a lilac color with little flowers all over it.

I don’t have time to overthink my outfit now. I throw on my roommate’s white Timberlands, grab my black purse, making sure my ID, wallet, and phone are all tucked safely inside. I grab my press pass and put the lanyard around my head carefully.

Taking a deep breath, I walk out to the living room where my roommate is sitting waiting for me to come out.

I clear my throat and try not to look too awkward. Ryan looks up from her MacBook and gasps, tossing her laptop onto the couch next to her, she moves over to me, her long legs gracefully walking around the coffee table.

She investigates every part of my outfit, making me feel small and self-conscious. Before I can stop myself, I start rambling in a quiet tone, “Is-is this too much? Do you th-think it looks okay?”

She grasps my shoulders and a wide smile makes its way onto her face, “Of course, you look amazing!” I smile at her and she winks at me, “When that pretentious ass sees you- he might want to do more than just let you interview him.”

I snort and roll my eyes and she laughs, “Yeah right,” I mumble.

She walks over to our coat rack and pulls off a small black cardigan, “Here, I know it gets cold in there,” I smile gratefully and take it from her, folding it over the crook of my arm and taking a deep breath.

I start to walk towards the door and she calls my name, I look back at her as I open the door, “You look hot Lil- knock ‘em dead,” I smile at her and nod, walking out before I get sappy.

I pull into the busy parking lot of the arena and gulp down my bubbling anxiety. I find a parking spot, towards the back of the lot seeing as I don’t get bothered by having to walk a little. I go up to the line, seeing a sign that says, ‘PRESS ENTRANCE HERE’ I smile at the worker looking at me and pointing to the Press sign and then at my pass hanging around my neck, he nods.

I go towards the other entrance and show a different security guard my pass and he opens a door for me, I smile up at him, “Thank you-” I glance at the small name tag, “Don.” He blushes slightly and coughs.

I blush too and walk through the door quickly. I realize that I’m ‘backstage’ and can hear the fans cheering for one of the main card fights happening. I check my small watch and see that it’s going to be another hour or so before Grayson Dolan fights.

I take another deep breath and start walking forward, trying not to look like a lost puppy and failing when a man wearing a UFC crew shirt comes over to me with furrowed brows, “Who’re you looking for?”

I look at him, his deep voice vibrating against the walls, “Grayson Dolan,” I answer back.

He gives me a once-over and I try not to make a face when he meets my eyes and smirks, “Oh, he’ll like you.” I furrow my brows but decide not to question it as he points down a long hallway, “Four doors down, take a right, then the last door on the left is him- the one that’ll say, Grayson Dolan.” I thanked him even though he was a bit rude, and made my way down.

Once I turn down the hallway I see someone sitting outside one of the rooms on a single chair. I make my way closer and my heart drops into my stomach when I see it’s a girl sitting outside Grayson Dolan’s room, “Hello? Are-Are you okay?”

The girl looks up at me from her phone and gives me a once-over, except it’s different from the way the worker did- she looks annoyed with me. She stands up, her high heels making her about an inch or two taller than me, “Who are you?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her cleavage up.

I cough to clear my throat a little, taken back by her abrasive tone, “I’m a reporter- Are you okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine, and if you’re here for Grayson Dolan- he won’t talk to you.”

“I- I’m sorry, why do you say that?” The woman steps closer to me and I try not to gag at the smell of her cheap, overused perfume. I step back from her and she straightens up slightly, glowering at me.

“Just run along, maybe you’ll understand when you’re grown,” She says, looking back at her phone, when she glances up and sees I’m not leaving she rolls her eyes, “Grayson Dolan doesn’t talk to reporters. I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t actually a reporter anyway, you’re probably just here to fuck him, huh? Get in line,” She laughs.

My whole body feels like it’s on fire. I don’t understand why she’s being so rude and malicious towards me but I have to get this interview. I can’t let people like her bring me down anymore. When she gives me a fake smile and sits back down, I decide to be the bigger person. Not snapping back at her and ignoring her. Because she doesn’t know me and she doesn’t know what I’ve been through.

The door opens before I can say anything anyways and we both look over, startled. A man looks over at us, then turn and glances back inside the room before he nods, looking at me, and asking what my name is, “Lily Taylor, here with Ace Publis-” I try to tell him but he cuts me off opening the door wider and my eyes widen as he tells me to come in. I try to keep from laughing when the girl asks if she can come in but he just shakes his head at her, I turn around quickly before he shuts the door, “If I were you- I wouldn’t lie to others and say you’re around his age, it’s very obvious that you’re old enough to be his mom,” And the door shuts on her shocked face.

I realize my heart is pounding in my ears and that is probably the meanest thing I’ve ever done, “I should probably apologize,” I whisper to myself and jump slightly when I hear a deep chuckle.

“What can I help you with, Ms. Taylor?” My shoulders tense at the familiar voice and I turn around slowly, facing a couch with a very amused Grayson Dolan sitting on it.

“I- I’m so sorry for being so rude to her. I didn’t mean to be.”

“Why do you think I’d care about her? She’s been sitting out there for two hours,” He laughs and I think he caught the raise of my eyebrow but ignores it, “I asked you once, Ms. Taylor, I don’t like repeating myself.” He reminds me of his question.

I square my shoulders, “I’m here with Ace Publishing & Co., I would love if you could answer some questions for me,” I smile at him, trying to come off as friendly.

His amused expression drops and he scoffs, “You’re one of them? God- here I was hoping you were a die-hard fan. Was going to make you feel very special,” He smirks at me and I scrunch my nose out of habit at his gross words. I quickly stop, realizing I need this, “Frank- show Ms. Taylor out please,” He sighs, and my eyes widen and I stick my hands out and Frank stops moving for a second.

“Wait! Wait! Please I-” Frank huffs at my refusal to move and grabs my arm as I move closer to Grayson, “Please. I wouldn’t be this adamant if I didn’t need this. Please. My career is counting on this moment. Please, I will get down on my knees and beg if I have to, please,” I put my hands in a pleading gesture, hoping he’d take pity.

He holds his hand up to Frank and he lets go of my arm, I sigh and straighten up a little, hoping to gain back some of the dignity I seemed to have lost, “What do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side curiously and I blush, glancing at the ground.

“My boss he uh- he told me that if I don’t get at least a quote from you I can kiss my job goodbye and well, it’s not the best job but I’ve worked my ass off to get where I’m at and he’s being unfair and I understand that this isn’t your problem and I understand why you don’t like to talk to interviewers-”

He cuts me off, “You know why I don’t talk to interviewers?” I look up at him and nod meekly, “Why? Explain it to me,” he crosses his arms and I think he might be upset with me.

I look back down at the ground and take a breath, glancing back up at him through my lashes, “You don’t do interviews because doing an interview is personal and revealing. You’re scar- scared to let the world see who the Grayson Dolan is because you don’t think they’ll like you as much.”

He cocks his eyebrow and uncrosses his arm, sighing, looking away from me to the wall, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he contemplates for a minute, “You got like 20 minutes to ask me whatever you want, and no stupid questions that all the interviewers ask, okay?” I nod and move to sit in the chair next to the couch.

“Do you mind if I record this? I’d like to keep this paper-free, meaning I don’t have a notebook out and try to write everything down. We’re just going to have a conversation and let it flow. I can stop recording at any time if you say something you’d like erased. I’m not here to expose you, just here to get to know you. As a person. Not as a fighter. I’m not going to ask you anything about how being a fighter’s been or what your inspiration is. I’m going to ask you about you. As a whole. Because the UFC is not your personality,” I explain to him, pulling my phone out and pulling up my voice memos app and looking back up to him, waiting for an answer.

He stares at me until finally, I say his name quietly, hoping he’s okay, he blinks and flushes, shifting, “Sorry, y-yeah, that’s okay. I just- I didn’t expect you to be like- acting like a human.”

I laugh and start recording, “Maybe that means I’m a bad journalist? I don’t know- I feel like it’s easier to connect and get the questions in without papers and cameras and all that other stuff.”

(this part is going to be a dialogue as though we are just listening to the recording)

“That makes sense, and no I can tell you’re going to be great, you treat me like I’m just- a guy, which doesn’t happen often.”

“I bet, you don’t deserve that though. Okay, I’m going to start us off with some icebreakers- so tell me what your childhood dream job was, your favorite ice cream flavor, and 3 things you do on the weekends.”

“Oh, jeez, what is this- first day of 6th grade? Fine- Uh, I always wanted to be a pro wrestler, that was my dream job as a kid. My favorite- vegan- ice cream flavor is probably mint chocolate chip. And, uhm, three things I do on the weekends...okay okay I got it; eat, sleep, workout. Now you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Miss Reporter. If you want this to flow you gotta participate as well.”

“Okay, fine. Uh- as a kid I always wanted to be a veterinarian, and then when I was like 10 I realized I wanted to be a writer. My favorite ice cream flavor is probably mint chocolate chip as well. And on the weekends...I’d probably say; read, watch fights with my dad, and drink tea with my best friend at a cafe.”

“Every single weekend?”

“Yeah, my dad lives on the other side of the country so we do a FaceTime call and watch UFC together. My roommate has a job that takes up a lot of her time during the week so we go to this small cafe by our house every weekend.”

“Wow.”

(this is where the rest of the interview would be but, for later in the timeline, we aren’t going to cover every question she asks him :))

“Okay, now tell me about your family. Where you grew up, were your parents married, did you have a dog, and how do you think this all helped make you the man you are today?”

“I grew up in New Jersey; my dad left when I was 10. I’m allergic to dogs and cats, so I have a parrot named Gizmo. My mom never remarried and my sister lives with her. My brother and I moved to LA when we were 18, with no money, no job, just hope. We went to a gym and asked them if they’d train us. The next thing I knew, my brother was getting a job working at the gym and becoming one of my trainers. I learned how to fight and used my wrestling experience and worked my way into the UFC.”

“You didn’t answer my last question.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you told me how you got started in the UFC. I don’t want to know about that- everyone knows that story already. I want to know how you think the things you went through as a child have shaped you as a person.”

“I- I guess- I don’t know, to be honest. I don’t think much of who I’ve become so that question is hard to answer.”

“Why do you say that? You are one of the most accomplished men in America.”

“To others, but this- I wasn’t supposed to be a fighter. Everyone sees me as accomplished but I just feel like this was an accident. There was no great event in my life that caused me to become an MMA fighter- it just happened.”

“You don’t believe in fate, Mr. Dolan?”

“No, I don’t. Do you, Ms. Taylor?”

“Yes, I believe that we all have a path we are meant to follow and that everything happens for a reason.”

“Why?”

“Because- I don’t know- it’s nicer than the alternative to me, I guess. I don’t want to live in a world where nothing has a reason behind it. We’ll move on to the next question. You don’t disclose personal information; relationships, family, children, etcetera.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Why is that? Are you afraid?”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“The same reason I said earlier as to why you don’t like interviews; you are scared people will see the real Grayson Dolan and not like you as much or think you’re different.”

“Are you like- a profiler or something? Why do you think that?”

“I’m not a profiler- I’m a journalist. It’s my job to look for clues, pick up on the small things about someone no one else would notice.”

“Ok, I’ll accept that. Is it my turn to ask you questions?”

“No that’s not how this works.”

“You said you wanted this to be like a normal conversation, did you not?”

“Yes, I did say that, but-”

“Okay, well, I don’t know about you but normally when I’m getting to know someone- I get to ask questions just like they do.”

“Fine. What do you want to know?”

“I want to know...if you’ll go out with me?”

“What? Like on a- like on a date?”

“Yes, a date, Ms. Taylor.”

“Uh- I don’t know, maybe, I-”

“30 minutes to the fight, Dolan! Gotta get you warmed-up!”

(the story is back to normal now)

“So?” He questions as he stands up and I try to gather all my stuff. Trying to push down the butterflies while I stop the recording. I just continue to get more flustered, especially when he puts his hand out for me and I shyly take it, he pulls me to my feet and I stare at him through my lashes.

“I- sure. On one condition,” I smile slyly up at him and he raises an eyebrow at me, I ignore the unfamiliar feeling between my thighs at the look on his face and continue quickly, “You have to win this fight. I’ll be in the front row watching. If you win- I’ll go out with you.”

He smiles and then chuckles, “I thought you were going to make it hard? I could win this fight in my sleep baby, I’ll let you know the time after the fight, just stick around, yeah?”

I snort and roll my eyes, ignoring the pull on my heart when he calls me baby, “I’ll be there,” He smiles at me again and I jump a little in surprise when I feel his warm, large hand on the small of my back, he opens the door for me and leads me into the hallway.

I try not to laugh at the face of the Instagram model when she sees Grayson’s hand on me, “I’ll be looking for you in the front row, just so you know.” He teases.

I smile at him and kiss him on the cheek, “I’ll be the one cheering the loudest. Knock Em dead!” I walk away quickly and glance back seeing him standing there, his right hand gently going up to touch the spot I kissed and we both blush. My heart drops into my stomach when he looks over and sees the model. I have to turn the corner and get to my seat so I don’t see how he reacted. He wouldn’t sleep with her right after asking me out, would he? My subconscious snaps back; you barely know the man! Maybe he does this all the time! I push her down and ignore the bad feeling in my gut.

As I sit down in my seat, everything that just happened hits me and I slouch into my seat, what. the. fuck. I’m going on a date with Grayson Dolan! I got an interview with Grayson Dolan! I kissed Grayson Dolan on the cheek! I bite back a smile and take out my phone, taking a video showing me smiling at the camera, then flipping the camera around and showing off how close I am to the octagon. I sent it to my dad quickly.

He responds almost immediately.

*From Daddy: Wow!! So cool! Have tons of fun! Not too much though! Not ready to be a grandpa...yet ;)

I snort and roll my eyes, responding and then turning my phone off when the lights in the arena dim.

*To Daddy: Lmao, shut up. I’ll try to have fun though! The main card is starting! I’ll talk to you later, love you <3

After I watch a few of the fights before Graysons’, I take some pictures and jot down some information about the fights and who won, knowing it’ll add more substance to my piece.

I watch as the whole arena transforms and the whole place is bursting with barely-contained energy and the place goes dark. Suddenly, lights start beaming and music starts playing, I smile at the Kid Cudi (each fight he uses a different Cudi song) choice for tonight- Enter Galactic as it blasts through the speakers everyone goes wild, Grayson moving swiftly to the octagon with his head low and singing the song softly to himself. I can tell he’s not the same Grayson I was talking to, he has flipped the switch- as he told me he does- and is now The Grayson Dolan- UFC Fighter and Champion.

He takes his shirt off and I blush at his tan skin, the rippling muscles making my brain go straight in the gutter. The ‘doc’ pats him down and puts vaseline on his face. I try not to laugh at how weird he looks with his eyebrows slicked down.

He makes his way into the octagon and I see him scanning the front row when his eyes land on mine. I smile at him but he just gives me a curt nod in response before turning away. I’m taken aback by his attitude but I know he has to stay in his fighter mentality.

The other fighter, Dominick Reyes, comes in and he has a good amount of people cheer for him but the majority of the arena boos when he comes out. I know that having some of how this fight goes in my article will make it look better because it’s such a big deal, so I jot some notes down, some about Grayson and some about Reyes.

I subconsciously chew on my nail, scolding myself when I realize what I’m doing. He’s going to win. I tell myself to calm down, I’ve never been to a fight before so the chaotic and anxiety-filled energy around me must be getting to my head.

The ref announces them both, and then they go to the middle, Grayson goes to touch Reyes’ fist, but Reyes pulls back and smirks at Grayson, “C’mon pretty boy,” he sings.

Grayson’s jaw clenches and he starts moving around the octagon, Reyes slowly falling into a pattern of chasing him around. Grayson continues to step to the right until suddenly, he moves to the left, and Reyes doesn’t see it. I watch in astonishment as he puts all of his power into the punch, hitting Reyes perfectly on the temple. Reyes drops to the ground and Grayson’s about to follow him to the mat but the ref stops him, officially calling the fight. Grayson looks over at me, my mouth hanging wide open and he smirks, winking at me.

That asshole just winked at me.

I stand up quickly, cheering loudly with everyone else and he shakes his head, turning back to his team as they run into the octagon to hug him. Once Grayson is done with everything and the crowd starts shuffling out, Grayson comes over to me, “D’you see that?” He smiles and I smile back.

“Yeah, yeah, I saw,” He chuckles and grabs my arm pulling me into him.

I gasp as I hit his hard, sweaty chest, “You’re sweaty,” I scrunch my nose up and try to pull away but he tightens his grip, staring down at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You owe me a date,” He responds and I roll my eyes, ignoring the hammering of my heart at how close we are to each other.

“What time and where?” I say, acting bored.

He chuckles down at me, “I’ll pick you up at 5:30. This Saturday. Just bring your beautiful self and don’t worry about anything else.”

“What’s the dress code?” I raise my eyebrow and he shrugs.

“Whatever you want to wear, although I’ll tell you right now they might frown upon you wearing lingerie or something like that.”

I snort and as he moves away from me a little and we start walking behind his team I realize that I’m a lot colder than I realized, rubbing my arms subconsciously and realizing that I left my sweater in the car damn it.

Grayson notices me rubbing my arms and bumps my shoulder, “You cold?”

“A little. I have a sweater in the car, I’ll be fine.”

He frowns as he opens the door to his dressing(?) room, “I have a jacket you can wear.”

He goes over to a chair in the corner and grabs a big, soft black jacket with DOLAN on the back and the UFC and Reebok logo on the front. I shake my head, “No, r-really it’s- it’s okay,”

“Just take it, you can give it back later, s’not a big deal, I don’t need it. I’m way too hot right now.”

He hands it over to me and I look down at it in his hands and then glance back at him, crossing my arms. He rolls his eyes and comes over to me, putting it on my shoulders and looking down at me, “Just wear it. Please?” He whispers and I flush, seeing that if I moved too fast our lips would be touching.

I nod softly and he steps back. I take a deep breath and put my arms through the sleeves and the jacket immediately warms me. I relax into the warmth and pull it tighter around me and he smirks, “Like you in my clothes.”

I blush and look down, “I- I should be goi-going,” I point my thumb at the door and he bites back a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll see you Saturday then?”

I nod and stutter out a response as I walk back to the door, “Y-yep! 5:30! Wait- I didn’t give you my address o-or my phone num-Ow!” I yelp in surprise when the door handle digs into my lower back and he can’t hold back his laugh as he walks over to me, trapping me between him and the door.

I swallow at his large frame covering me up, his arms resting on each side of the wall by my head, I can see his large biceps and the veins running up his arms in my peripheral vision. He smirks and leans down, “Check your pocket,” he says softly and I look up at him with furrowed brows.

I slowly move my hands to the jacket pockets and after digging around a little I feel a small piece of paper in the right pocket. I pull it out and open it up. I glance up at him in surprise at the digits scribbled onto the paper.

“H-How did you- why-” He cuts me off by moving away from me, my body on fire from how close he had been to me.

I move off the door when he motions for me to move and he opens the door, “Ms. Taylor,” He says, trying to hide a smirk.

I scoff incredulously and walk past him, stopping outside the door in the cold hallway, I turn back to look at him before I walk away to go have a panic attack in my car, “Mr. Dolan.”

A/n: okayyy so I know it’s bad and I’ll be editing it soon but I’m posting this on an ipad lmfao so please cut me some slack.

Tag List:

@pineappledols @episkygrant @georgia302 @dolan-habits @leahs-existentialcrisis @persistence-ofmemories @bubsdolan @ohdolans @vinylhazza​ @vintagedolan​​ @astrodolan @zeusgrayson @deeperdolan @blindedbythelightt @dolsobsessionz @evergreendolan​ @dicedols @plantbasedgray

[kythed]

synopsis: it’s a tragic case of boy meets girl, boy likes girl, girl has a boyfriend. [un]luckily for you, semi doesn’t play by the rules... and you don’t really want him to.

tagged: semi eita x reader, fluff, mediocre writing.

commitment level: 2,583 words.

table of contents | next chapter >>

They say young love is a rite of passage. They say it’s fresh and light, it’s wading in the shallows of a swiftly flowing river and letting the deliciously frigid water take you wherever it flows. They say young love comes easily. 

But they don’t tell you youth is not a remedy for pain. They don’t tell you the cold of that water burns your skin, too — it leaves your fingertips numb and kisses your palms an angry red. They say “it’s just puppy love,” but they don’t tell you puppies grow into wolves. 

+

You’re eighteen when you first meet Semi Eita, and he’s twenty-two. It’s not a highly significant age gap, but it’s noticeable enough. 

“She’s a baby,” he says, eyes grey as the southern sea and just as unforgiving. Though he’s young, the weight of an iron giant rests on his slender shoulders. 

“She’s talented, Semi,” says Akamine, tone wheedling. He fiddles with the lapels of his coat — it’s Italian, all cream silk and bronze buttons. “She’s capable.” 

Twenty year old Akamine Keo is a trust-fund kid, born into the arms of an oil empire he’ll someday fall heir to. He’s charming, clever, and sweet, with distinctly expensive good looks, fine features and black hair like raven’s feathers. He also happens to be your boyfriend. 

“That means nothing,” Semi says, peering into your face. An uncomfortable chill tickles the back of your neck as you fight the urge to look away. “There are toddlers who can shred Led Zeppelin, but they’re not musicians. They’re puppets controlled by overzealous tiger moms. They can’t take the heat of the real industry.”

“I can take the heat.” Your words bleed out heavy and sharp, a rough gash through the palpably thick tension. Fingernails leaving painful half-moons on your palms, you clench and unclench your fists down at your sides. “And I can sure as hell shred better than any toddler.”

For a split second, surprise flashes across Semi’s face, only to be quickly replaced by a wry smile. “Brave.” 

You stare at him, lips sucked in and eyes narrowed as Akamine slings an arm over your shoulders and presses a kiss to your temples. 

“See?” he says with a laugh. “She’s talented, capable, and brave.”

“Well,” says Semi, drawing the word out. He cocks his head, giving you one last hard once-over, before extending a hand for a firm shake. “We’ll see. I’ll give you two months. A trial.” 

You accept this compromise, returning the shake. Semi’s still skeptical, you can tell, but you make a vow to yourself — you’re about to blow this sonuvabitch out of the water. As Akamine crows in delight, Semi’s eyes don’t leave yours. 

Good luck, they seem to be saying. You’ll need it. 

You smile, and he smiles back. 

I won’t. 

+

Semi’s a phenomenal bassist. When you’d first started dating Akamine and he’d just joined Semi’s band, he could scarcely shut up about it — “His name’s Semi Eita, and I swear he’s got magic in those fingers, babe.” 

Well, Semi Eita’s about to be dethroned, because your fingers are magic, too. 

For those two months, you’re the band’s lead guitarist, and you pass Semi’s test with flying colors. It takes a couple weeks to fall into step with the other guys — Semi on bass, Akamine on drums, and a quiet college kid called Yasuda on keys — but you’re a quick study, and soon you’re a cornerstone, expertly weaving searing arpeggios of dashed dreams and fiery hopes up and down the band’s underlying tunes. 

(You should’ve seen it coming.)

You and Semi somehow become co-songwriters. He has a knack for melodies, and you have a knack for lyrics. Akamine doesn’t seem to mind the long hours you spend in Semi’s company, working in a whirlwind of messy notes and empty energy drink cans — he trusts you. 

(Sometimes you feel like maybe he shouldn’t.)

“What do you think of this?” Semi says, idly twirling a pencil between his fingers. It’s 10pm on a Friday night, and you’re stretched out on his couch, inhaling chow mein from a greasy paper box. “For the second verse, I mean.” 

“Lemme see,” you say around a mouthful of noodles, snatching the paper from his hand. You furrow your brow. “‘Tear me open like a scarlet letter, cruelly addressed ‘return to sender…’’ Jeez, Semi. Who hurt you?” 

Semi scowls. “It’s a breakup song, isn’t it? It’s supposed to hurt.” 

“You might consider being a little more… subtle,” you suggest, offering him a fortune cookie. He takes it and sets it aside.

“Heartbreak isn’t subtle,” he says, shooting you a look that speaks of throbbing phantom wounds. “It cuts deep. All the way down to the heart. Hence the name heartbreak.” 

“Wow. I had no idea,” you say drily. You swing your legs over the couch and sit upright, snatching his pencil. “I just think we should tackle this with nuance, not just write another ‘eff you’ ballad.” 

“This world can always use another ‘eff you’ ballad,” Semi says humorlessly, resting his chin in his hand. 

You regard his suddenly silent demeanor as he stares, unseeing, out the window. It’s dark outside, and it’s a darkness that speaks less of peaceful sleep and more of emptiness. 

You sigh, nudging him with your foot. “What was her name?” 

“What?”

“Her name. This demon of a girl that hurt you so badly.” 

For a moment, it seems he’s going to argue, to deny ever being afflicted with something so childish as lovesickness. Then he runs a defeated hand through his hair and shakes his head, laughing. “You’re too curious for your own good.”

You wait. There’s a brief, uncomfortable silence as Semi chews his lip.

“...Her name was Aiko,” he says finally, inspecting his nails with a faux nonchalance. “Smokin’ hot. Met her in music school three or so years ago, I think — she was a TA, a few years older than I was.”

“Older women, huh?” you tease. This is new territory — you’re dipping a toe into the forbidden arena of flirtation. A shadow of guilt creeps into the back of your mind as you think of Akamine, but the bright light of Semi’s crooked grin swiftly flushes it away.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning over to flick your leg. “I don’t date babies like you.” 

“Maybe you should consider it,” you say, unthinking. Semi stares at you, eyebrow raised, and you flush, frantically backtracking. “Not me specifically. I’m just saying — well, I mean, ‘cause this Aiko chick was such a bad time and everything.” 

“If you have a crush on me, just admit it,” Semi says. You’re sure it’s meant to come across jokingly, but the way he’s eyeing you twists your stomach into a pleasurable knot. Then he sighs, leaning back on his arms. “She was a great time, actually. It’s the ending that sucked ass.” 

The question lingers at the tip of your tongue, hesitant like an ill-trained acrobat, but before it even attempts the leap, Semi answers.

“It burned.” He looks straight at you, and you can taste the bitterness in his words. “It burned, and not a day goes by that I can’t remember how awful it felt.” 

+

That’s the first of the many secrets you trade with him. 

Later that night, you tell Semi about your first kiss, about how the recipient smelled like Old Spice and tasted like chapstick, how he walked you to your front door and introduced himself to your mom. About how he took your virginity six months later, and how you soon realized there are some things in life you don’t get an exchange receipt for. 

Semi tells you his favorite color is green, and that outer space scares him more than anything. (He doesn’t like thinking about life in other galaxies because he can hardly handle thinking about life right here.)

You tell him you like milk tea with 75% sweetness, and he promises he’ll take you to his favorite cafe sometime. (“Not a date,” he assures you, and you internally scold yourself for wishing it was one.)

He says he once accidentally kicked a stray cat while trying to find a volleyball he lost in the bushes near his house, and that’s why he considers himself a cat person now: as repentance. (He has a pet cat called Haru, and he shows you a picture — Haru is small and black with bright yellow eyes. You say he’s cute, but Semi corrects you: “Not cute. Fierce.”) 

You say you used to wish life had a restart button, so you could turn back time and dance through each year without making a single mistake.

Semi says he still wishes that. 

(Another thing they don’t tell you is how secrets are really currency. Secrets can’t help but pay for familiarity, and familiarity often leads to something more.)

+

It’s a couple weeks later when you have your first gig. It’s at a bar downtown, and Yasuda nabs fakes for you and Akamine, though you don’t plan on drinking. Not much, anyways. 

(Speaking of Akamine, your relationship with him has grown strained over the past month. He’s stretched himself thin between the band and his business degree, and you — well, whenever your phone pings, you can’t stop hoping it’s from Semi.)

Five minutes before show time, Semi turns to you, eyes wide. “We don’t have a band name.” 

“What?”

“We don’t have a band name.” He looks around, frantically trying to draw inspiration from something in the dimly lit bar. “Quick, think of something.” 

So you think for a moment, chewing your inner cheek, before reaching out and tugging on Semi’s sleeve. “Paper.”

“Paper?”

“Paper.”

Paper is fragile, it’s thin, it’s easy to come by. But it’s also a world of potential on one sheet, a story waiting to be written. 

When the bar owner walks onto the stage and introduces the band, you know you’ve made the right decision. And from the glittering smile Semi flashes you before nodding at Akamine to count you in, you know he thinks so too. 

The show goes on without a hitch, and even though the bar is far from packed, you’re just as proud as you’d be playing in a stadium of screaming fans. The air smells of stale whiskey and fresh beginnings, and as your fingers dance up and down your Gibson’s fretboard, you hear colors — rich teal, smooth mahogany, creamy gold and silver brighter than the stars. Akamine keeps the rhythm like a war drum, and Semi, as always, is perfect. Yasuda, doubling as the main vocalist, sings until his voice gets wonderfully low and raspy, keyboard taking some of the heat as he grins back at you, mouthing how badly his throat hurts.

You’re sweaty when the set’s done, and Akamine buys you a drink, giving you a quick, half-hearted kiss and a tired smile.

Akamine’s always been kind to you.

“I gotta go,” he says, squeezing your hand. “Essay due tomorrow at ten.” 

He looks so genuinely sorry to leave, you almost feel guilty. 

+

You’re packing up your amps into the back of Semi’s van, alone in the parking lot save for the moon many miles above, hanging bright and full in a clear sky. The moon has seen all your most indulgent sins, and she’s going to see one more tonight.

“You did well.” Semi heaves the last of the equipment into his truck before turning to you, wiping his palms on his jeans. “Consider me impressed.”

“Why, thank you,” you say, giving him a mock bow. “So glad I’ve finally managed to impress the Semi Eita.” 

He regards you for a moment, arms crossed. A small sigh escapes his lips. It’s both a sigh of resignation and one of anticipation. 

Then, in one smooth motion, he steps close, reaches out, and pulls you close by the waist. 

You stare up at him, all too aware of the heat radiating from his body. His skin is burning, and his cologne is different from Akamine’s — it’s not expensive, it’s not a multilayered, deep, woody scent. It’s cheap, the sort of cologne a struggling musician can afford, but it smells of home.

“Forgive me for what I’m about to do,” he whispers, sliding a hand up your jaw to cup your face. His hair glows silver and ghostly under the streetlamps. 

“And what are you about to do?” Your voice is deadly quiet, and your chest feels a deathly cold despite Semi’s proximity, refusing to thaw as you await his answer. 

“Kiss you absolutely senseless.” 

Semi’s never been one to make empty promises, and right now is no exception. He presses his lips to yours and you immediately melt into his arms, suddenly craving him and only him. You’re not entirely sure how you’ve managed to avoid devouring him whole up until this point, because he kisses like Eros, full of pomegranate seeds and crimson blossoms, of days spent in clandestine bliss. He kisses like a man on death row, desperate and longing, hands squeezing your waist like your body is his only anchor to life itself. 

Semi Eita wants to be a rockstar, but right now he’s just a boy kissing a girl he’s bound to fall deeply, inexplicably in love with. 

When he finally breaks away, you’re breathless, staring up at him like you’ve just seen an angel. Your hands are still curled in the front of his shirt, you’re still standing on tiptoe, lips just inches from his. 

“Semi…” You swallow hard. “Akamine’s a good guy… I can’t.”

Semi tenses his jaw, taking a finger to lift your chin. “Then why are you looking at me like that?” 

Your voice is barely above a whisper. “Like what?”

“Like you’re hungry.” 

He’s got you there. 

You’re standing on a balance beam splitting two vastly different worlds. On one side there’s the known: Akamine and his bright, blue-eyed optimism, his willingness to shoulder burdens he shouldn’t have to. There’s his sweet touch and soft kisses, his firm words of reassurance and his sunny laughter shedding light on your hidden depths. 

The known is comforting. It’s familiar. 

But on the other side… there’s the unknown. There’s Semi Eita in all his scalded glory, his sharp tongue and headstrong determination. There’s his burning touch, his fingers leaving scorch marks on your cheek and his lips depositing glowing embers in your mouth, ready to ignite at a single inflammatory word. There’s his moonstone enigma, the shadow underlying his every sentence like smudged eyeliner. 

The unknown is frightening, almost overwhelmingly so… but there’s something in you, something willful and terribly thirsty, that draws you to this unknown and the possibility of knowing it. 

“Because I am.” 

And you grab his face and pull it down to yours, impatient, frustrated by months of dancing around that painfully tangible attraction, that magnetism — finally, you allow yourself to fall, hurtling through a chasm of fallen stars and ancient suns, hanging on to nothing but Semi and his carefully guarded secrets. 

You kiss him hard, pouring your soul into his mouth, all your youthful doubt and hope. You knot your fingers in his hair, and he pulls you into his chest, pressing your body so close it’s as if he wants to make it a part of himself. 

And when you part for the second time, chest heaving, you know you’ve fallen completely, entirely, without a doubt. 

[salmonmakiii]

Hiii I’d like to request a time stamp please! 01:25 with boyfriend Kuroo, all fluff pls 🥺

I’m sorry for the late updates T_T I didn’t know my college schedule will be THIS packed T_T Here ya go!

[01:25]

About : Kuroo x reader Note : Fluff, nekoma rich, Kuroo being a whiny boyfriend >:( Sorry if I have any mistakes!

“HAHAHAH,”

“Tetsu! Stop laughing in my ear!”

You hit your boyfriend’s chest jokingly as he slowly calmed down from his laugh and let out a “sorry”.

Being stuck in quarantine with Kuroo was fun. For the past month, you two would either be cuddling all day in bed, trying new recipes from TikTok, making TikTok with him, or just lay around the house doing nothing. There are a few times where he had to do his work, but with the pandemic right now, he didn’t have a lot he needed to do.

You, on the other hand, didn’t have a job yet. You were about to find one but quarantine strikes first before you could. Kuroo was fine with it since his job could already fulfill your daily needs, that and maybe someone wanted you to be available whenever he needs cuddles after a stressful zoom meeting.

These days were just one of those days where you tow had been cuddling in bed all day, only to wake up a few times to get something to eat and then to go to the bathroom only to fall back asleep in each other’s arms.

That was a big mistake though. Both of you were now wide awake in the middle of the night and your boyfriend suggested to watch some of The Office episodes. The two of you got bored of it after watching five episodes, Kuroo then decided to go back to memory lane as he searched “iconic vines that…” on youtube and now both of your cheeks were sore from laughing and smiling.

When the youtube video ends, your boyfriend used his left hand to move the cursor to peek at the time while his right was still rested around your shoulders.

“Babe,” He called, you looked up from your phone to your boyfriend.

“Yeah?”

“I think we messed up our sleep schedule,” He let out a chuckle. You looked at the time on your phone and smiled.

“I guess we did,” You shook your head, fixing up your position to stretch out your limbs. Kuroo moved the laptop from the bed to the nightstand.

“You tired yet?” He asked, stretching his hands.

“Nope,” You smiled, leaning in as you kissed your boyfriend on the lips. Pulling back a little to stare at his handsome face. Kuroo gave you a grin as he leaned in once more to kiss you. You cupped his cheeks as he moved his lips on yours and you pulled back abruptly as you squinted your eyes.

“Why is your face so dry?” You asked, rubbing your thumb on your boyfriend’s cheeks.

“Dry? I don’t know,” He answered shortly, clearly uninterested in the current topic as he leaned down once again. You halt him and let out a laugh when he groaned.

“I have an idea!” You exclaimed, letting go of your boyfriend as you scrambled off the bed to go to your drawer.

“If it doesn’t involve you cuddling me and giving me kisses, I don’t want any part of it,” His child-like grumble made you laugh. You took out a few of your skincare products and put them all on the bed.

“We’ve been doing that for a whole day, Testu.”

Kuroo jutted his lips as he looked at you with those sad, cat-like eyes and his hair seemed like cat ears as it went a little droopy. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“We can have that after I put chemicals on your face.”

Kuroo muttered a “Fine,” as he scooted closer to look at the products on the bed.

“Now come on, let’s wash up our face.” You smiled at him, Kuroo groaned once again as he lazily made his way to the bathroom, his feet dragging on the floor.

“Come on!” You said, pushing him to walk faster to the bathroom.

Finally arriving at the bathroom, you gave Kuroo one of your hair bands. Your boyfriend looked at the hairband and then at you. If you wanted him to do things your way, might as well be a little hard to get.

“Can you put it on for me, please?” He asked in a gentle and yet teasing tone but you did as he asked, since he looked so cute. Now that his rooster hair was out of his face, he continued to put his face wash on his face, rubbing it and then applying it to his cheeks first, you follow after him with your own and you both decided to brush your teeth right after.

When both of you finished, Kuroo handed you your towel as he wiped his face with his. You thanked him and walked back towards the bedroom with Kuroo following behind you. You plopped down on the bed and grinned at your boyfriend who’s towering over you.

“Now, let’s begin!”

“You’re weirdly excited about this simple thing.”

You gave Kuroo your toner and he looked at you with an offended look. You tilt your head to the side and raised an eyebrow.

“What’s wrong?” You asked,

“I thought you were going to put it on for me?” He pouted, jutting his lips out.

“Tetsurou, I swear, you’re a child!” You laugh. Nonetheless, you sat crosslegged, putting two pillows on top of your legs and patting it, gesturing for him to lay down his head there.

Kuroo smiled victoriously and laid his head down, his body bounced just a little as he plopped his body on the mattress. He let out a sigh of relief when he felt your hand ran through his hair.

“You’re so spoiled,” You planted a kiss on his forehead and put a few drops of the toner to a piece of facial cotton. Kuroo only hummed as he relaxed when you pressed the cotton to his face, the pressure you gave him felt like you were massaging his face.

Putting the cotton and toner aside, you reached out to the mini-fridge near you to get those facial masks. Kuroo said something about that fridge being used for drinks, but you put in some of your skincare there anyways. You took out your facial masks, choosing the right one for your boyfriend’s dry skin. Kuroo was still closing his eyes, hearing you rummage through things.

“What’s taking you so long?” He asked, opening his eyes and looking up at you.

“I’m choosing a facial mask for you,” You said, not glancing at him as you continued to search.

“I’d take anything, honestly,” He shrugged, closing his eyes once more. You let out an “Aha!” and tapped Kuroo’s head. Your boyfriend opened his eyes to see you smiling.

“Wanna wear this one? It’s for dry skin.”

“Yeah sure.” He closed his eyes once again.

Kuroo knew what masks they are, he saw you wear it a few times around the house. He even got scared by you when you wore a black one. If he remembered correctly, this was the one where it was like cloth but soaked in some moisturizer…? He shakes the thought away and just went with the flow.

What Kuroo forgot was that this was fresh out of the fridge and it was cold. The second the mask touched his skin he jolted and sat up, looking at you.

“Jeez, babe! Warn me next time! That thing is below freezing temperature!” He complained and you laughed at him, still holding the mask with your fingertips.

“Sorry! Sorry! Lay down and let me apply it to you.”

Kuroo glared at you as he grumpily lay down on the pillow. You laugh silently and warned him by counting. Kuroo flinched a little at the sudden cold touch, but as the mask covered more of his face, he relaxes. You let out a content sigh and gently stood up, Kuroo noticed your absence and let out a groan.

“Where are you going?” He whined,

“Will you stop being a child, Tetsu?” You giggled, reaching for your moisturizer on the table across your bed. “I’m just going to do my routine.” You heard another groan leave him.

“When do I take this off?” He asked,

“In 15 minutes,” Kuroo groaned once more and reached for his phone beside him, opening his social media.

Fifteen minutes passed by pretty quickly. Kuroo had set up a timer and he immediately called out your name to take the mask off. You shook your head as you move from your comfortable spot on the bed. You peeled the mask off and he let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Finally! I’ve been waiting for ages.” He said. you saw him about to wipe his face with a towel and you quickly stopped him, pulling his face to you.

“Do NOT wipe them off!” You warned while Kuroo raised an eyebrow.

“But my face’s so slimy,”

“You’re supposed to spread it all over your face,”

You began spreading the excess serum on both of his cheeks, gently putting on pressure to massage his face. Kuroo visibly relaxed and leaned into your touch. A few seconds of massaging his face, you finally let go and moved back to lay down on your spot once more. Kuroo throwing his body beside you. His hand reached for the light switch on top of your bed and the room grew dark, the soft light from the closed curtains being the only light source.

“Now, where’s my cuddle and kisses?” Kuroo asked in a raspy voice.

His hands were already around you and his lips were grazing yours. You giggle at him before closing the gap between you. Kuroo’s lips formed a smile once you started taking the lead, that giddy feeling he always liked resurfaced. Kuroo initiated to put sloppy kisses on your cheeks but stopped and pulled back.

“Ack! Ew!” Kuroo stuck his tongue out as he tried to get rid of the weird taste in his mouth. You stared at him confused before understanding what happened.

“You tasted my night serum didn’t you?” You chuckled, Kuroo frowned and turned to you.

“Yeah, and it tastes BAD,”

“Well, what do you expect?” You laughed, pushing a hand through his hair.

“Something sweet! Don’t they have some kind of strawberry flavor or something?”

“They don’t, Tetsu.”

“Well, they should!”

A good five minutes went by as you hear your boyfriend's complaints before the two of you were out cold. In the morning though, Kuroo was surprised at how soft his skin felt as he looked at himself in the mirror.

“Babe! My face is as soft as a baby’s bum!”

Maybe he’ll let you take care of his skin-care from now on.

[mandelene]

℧: a damp towel against flushed, feverish skin for hws canada? maybe with alfred doing the comforting?

Brothers Have Your Back

Word Count: 663

“Jeez, Matt. You’re really burning up. Are you sure you don’t want me to call Papa or Dad and ask if one of them can come home early from work? You weren’t this bad this morning,” Alfred sighs, laying a cool damp cloth across Matthew’s feverish forehead.

He and Alfred are both on summer break from college and will be home for the next two and a half months, but it’s not like Matthew has been able to enjoy a single minute of being back. He’s been sick since the last day of finals. What started as a case of the sniffles has since progressed to a wet cough and a high fever.

Matthew buries another string of hacking coughs into his pillow and croaks, “No, it’s okay.”

“I don’t think it’s okay…Who gets this sick in May, dude? You’re so unlucky.”

“…Yeah.”

“You want some more cough medicine? You can take it again now – it’s been six hours.”

Matthew nods and takes a sip of water from the glass on his nightstand. He somehow always manages to get sick around finals week. It’s like his body purposefully makes him ill at the most inconvenient times. He didn’t think it would get quite this bad, and even though he feels downright awful, he doesn’t want to be fussed over. He’s an adult now, and he can get through this by himself without inconveniencing anyone too much.

He watches Alfred measure out a dose of cough syrup for him in a medicine cup. It’s thick, goopy, and tastes vile, but it does help with the chest congestion quite a bit.

“Thanks,” Matthew mumbles as he takes the medicine cup and chugs the syrup in one quick motion. He shudders as it goes down his throat.

“Sure thing, bro. Wanna watch something on TV or play some video games?”

“Maybe later, Al. My head really hurts from the fever.”

“Gotchu, don’t apologize. How about some relaxing music then? I can play some spa music or something on Spotify—it’s mad chill and helps me sleep sometimes.”

“Spa music?”

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

“Okay, I’ll give it a try,” Matthew agrees with a small laugh. He pulls himself up a bit and stacks extra pillows behind his back, hoping it’ll help him breathe and loosen some of the mucus in his lungs. He takes the cold cloth from his head and runs it across his entire face, relishing in the pleasant sensation. It feels like it’s sucking the heat out of his body.

Alfred plays the spa music through the Bluetooth speaker sitting on one of Matthew’s bookshelves. He was right, it does sound like good music to fall asleep to.

“Thanks, Al. I appreciate your help…But you can go back to doing whatever you wanna do now. I don’t wanna take up your time,” he says, grimacing at how raspy and hoarse his voice sounds. “I’ll be fine.”

“No way, dude. I’m staying here. I don’t have anything else to do, so don’t worry, and even if I did, family comes first,” Alfred insists before shooting him a big toothy smile. “I’ve got your back. Always.”

He’s touched, but he can’t let Alfred know because it’ll go to his head. “Thanks, bro.”

“I’m gonna get you another cold compress and more water, okay? You want anything else while I’m downstairs in the kitchen?”

“I’m okay for now.”

“All right. Don’t go anywhere.”

Matthew laughs. “I don’t plan to.”

“I dunno, man. You might become delirious and think it’s a dandy time to go for a run in the park or something. Who knows? Anyway, love ya, dude. See ya in a sec.”

“See you,” Matthew whispers, resting his aching head on his pillow again. The spa music makes the room feel cozier somehow…By the time Alfred returns, he’s already fast asleep, and he doesn’t feel the fresh damp cloth being placed on his brow or how Alfred squeezes his shoulder reassuringly.

But he is grateful nonetheless.

[lannister-slings-and-arrows]

Its Too Hot in this Five Star Hell Hole (Javier Peña x OC)

hey all, back again! This time with a Javi fic, and the first smut i’ve written in weeeell over a decade lol. hope you all like it, lemme know what you think!

Pairing: Javier  Peña x OC Warnings: thigh riding (i am shameless), sex in a car (v. uncomfortable, i have stories), daddy kink, fingering, abuse of Oreos Rating: damn, i guess mild M? Word Count: 6046 Summary: There’s a generational gap when it comes to work attire, and Oreo cookies, and she is determined to not find the asshole sitting next to her attractive. She fails miserably.

“Murphy was right you know,” Peña remarked, legs stretched out before him, one arm hanging out of the window of his Jeep, the other draped over his lap. His fingers kept drumming rhythmically on the inside of his thigh and the action had drawn the attention of his companion for the past hour and a half. She was frustrated and wished he would stop.

“What was he right about?” she asked, deliberately looking away from the hand that had again moved closer to his crotch. She looked down at the canvas bag on the floor at her feet and shifted in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position for what felt like the hundredth time since this stakeout had started. She saw her partner’s head turn languidly to face her out of the corner of her eye, his eyes still hidden behind those aviators that he thought were just so cool. She would never tell him that she secretly agreed. His ego was large enough already.

“You look like a college coed on spring break right now.” Peña remarked, mustache twitching up in a tiny smirk. She scowled at her beat up Converse. “I hope we don’t have to actually arrest anyone today- they’ll never believe for a second that you’re DEA.”

“Yeah, well,” she bent down to open her bag and dig around in it. “This is what happens when you call me in to an ‘emergency meeting’ on my day off.” With a quiet noise of triumph she pulled out her prize and shoved her bag further into the foot-well, before kicking her feet (with their beat up black high tops) onto the dash. Peña, still looking at his partner, was torn between staring at her mostly bare legs, now on display before him like some sort of divine offering, or staring at the package she was picking up again.

“Those are incredibly short shorts, Vic,” he finally settled on, eyes bouncing back and forth between legs that had only recently lost their northern, fish belly white color and her lap where she was eagerly tearing open familiar blue foil. “Gotta say, I’m a little surprised- now wait a minute. I have to ask. Did you seriously manage to bring a package of Oreos to this stakeout but not your work clothes?” Vic looked up at him with a grin, hand in the package of chocolate cookies and shrugged.

“Number one: I was already dressed for the day when you and Murphy called me in. This is how I dress normally. This is me. On my days off. It’s literally five thousand degrees here, you’re lucky I even put on shorts THIS long. And I managed to grab a shirt so quit your whining. Jeez, never figured you, of all people, for a prude.” Peña was about to protest multiple things that had just been tossed in his direction when she held up a hand and continued, “And number two: I had just grabbed my mail when you called, so I already had these in my bag. I didn’t make a separate stop.”

Peña blinked at her, digesting this as she pulled out a cookie.

“You got cookies in the mail?”

Vic stared intently at the Oreo in her hand as she slowly, painstakingly, twisted the two chocolate wafers in opposite directions, pulling them apart gently as she did so. Peña watched as the cookies started to come apart before the bottom one shattered and crumbled into four pieces in Vic’s hand. She swore quietly and shoved the mess she had made of it into her mouth and pulled out another one. She examined it closely, twisting and turning it, looking for any cracks or blemishes in the wafer as she chewed quickly. Swallowing, she replied,

“You can sometimes, and I mean rarely, find Oreos down here. They’re normally stale and broken and they generally cost about as much as Escobar makes in a day.” She held a cookie in the palm of her hand and turned to face her partner, offering it to him. He raised an eyebrow at it and took it slowly. She grabbed another from the package and repeated her examination as she continued, “But you can NEVER find the double stuffed ones. So my brother ships them to me. These are mana from heaven, better than any coke, better than any sex you’ve ever had. Honestly, if given the choice between most cocks in the world and a couple double stuffed Oreos, I would take the Oreos no question.” Peña snorted and both eyebrows shot up this time.

“Oh really?”

She smiled at the cookie in her hand, having found no weaknesses that might hinder her mission.

“A dick can be replaced by quite a few things. A real life, fresh, Oreo cookie is one of a kind.” Peña shook his head at her, cookie still in between his fingers.

“Clearly you haven’t met the right cocks.” Vic attempted to pull apart the cookie the same way she had before, with the same results. With an annoyed huff she ate it whole again.

“Wha,” she mumbled around the cookie in her mouth, searching the package for a likely candidate. “You offawin’?” He smiled, twirling his cookie around.

“Maybe after you swallow that thing.” Vic flipped him off. “And that’s my shirt, just to be fair, not yours.” He gestured with the Oreo at the overly large blue button down Vic wore, tails tied at her waist, sleeves rolled up, to hide how comically big it was on her. She looked away from the cookies and down at herself, plucking at the front of it.

“The shirt I have under it is mine.”

“And also especially inappropriate for a meeting with the American ambassador to Columbia.”

Vic rolled her eyes and returned to her mission.

“Whatever. Again, it’s a million degrees here, and the humidity is twelve thousand percent, I’m ripping the sleeves off of every tee shirt I own, Springsteen or no.” Peña was about to take a bite out of the cookie he had taken from her when she gasped, horrified, and yanked his hand away from his mouth. He startled, looking around at the street they were supposed to be watching. He didn’t see anything and was about to tell her so when he turned and saw her glaring at him, holding the cookie up and shaking it at his face accusingly.

“You don’t take a bite out of an Oreo! Don’t you know how to eat a fucking cookie?!” He stared at her, blinking slowly.

“What.” Vic rolled her eyes before quickly yanking the two halves of the Oreo apart and holding up the half that had retained most of the cream, pointing at it with her pinky.

“Cream first! Then cookie! God, how old are you.”

She proceeded to demonstrate and Peña felt his mouth go dry and a bead of sweat slip slowly down his back. With one long steady lick, followed by a few quick hard ones, Vic cleaned the cream off of one wafer before moving to its counterpart and repeating the process. She finished with a smile and a loud smack of her lips, twisting her head to clean off the side of her hand where some of it had smeared. She was about to lean back in her seat before her eyes caught on his hand and she grabbed it, yanking it closer to her mouth.

Peña saw clearly what was about to happen and really did try to protest, but before he could get more than a grunt out, Vic had the end of his index finger in her mouth and he felt her tongue wrap around it, sucking gently. He watched, his breath caught in his throat, as she drew back with a quiet popping noise and released his hand, now clean of any evidence of Oreos. He cleared his throat, still staring, as she stuck the two halves back together and popped the whole thing in her mouth.

“Wike tha,” she said, mouth full, hands reaching again for the package on her lap. She offered it to him with a little shake and smiled when he took one. She turned back to the street before them as he continued to watch her, the new cookie held absently on his lap.

Well that was an unfortunate reaction, he thought to himself, a little surprised at how much he had enjoyed watching the younger woman demonstrate how to eat a cookie like a toddler. That was just obscene- he reached down and tried to stretch out the denim over his crotch. No, not obscene, Peña, you’re just a dirty old man who needs to calm down and get back to work. He shook his head and ate the whole cookie before she could take it from him and do that again.

Next to him Victoria Eugenia Flanagan was panicking quietly, staring determinedly out the window, pretending that she had not just done what she had, in fact, just done. We fucking talked about this, Victoria, she berated herself silently, not seeing anything in front of her. He is your partner, and he’s a slut, you can’t ruin that relationship and you don’t want the clap. Vic sighed heavily and bent down to stow the Oreos back in her bag. Hands to yourself. That was the deal you fucking moron.

They sat in silence for a couple minutes, silence that wasn’t exactly awkward, but definitely not in the realm of completely comfortable either. Peña reached behind his seat and pulled an olive green canteen into his lap, unscrewing the top and smacking her arm with it gently. She shot him a brief smile as she took it, grimacing at the warm metal taste of the water and handing it back. She heard him drinking but dug her nails into her own palm to remind herself that turning around to watch his Adam’s Apple bob slowly as he swallowed was counterproductive to her new goal of forgetting that she had ever deeply and passionately desired to ride Javier Peña hard and put him away still dripping. Not as tall as Murphy, smokes too much, drinks too much, flirts too much, breaks too many rules, wears stupid boots, sleeps with too many hookers, Vic tried listing out everything that should be a barrier to her actually leaning over and sticking her hand down her partner’s pants, but the silence was beginning to become oppressive and it was just so hot in this car and this was supposed to be her day off and she hadn’t had any company but her own hands since she came to Columbia five months ago and-

“What do you miss most about the states?” The question was out of her mouth before she even realized it, and she still wasn’t looking at him. “I miss The Golden Girls. Damn that’s a funny show.” She was going to take her gun out of the holster under her arm and shoot herself in the foot when she eventually got back to her apartment. That would be less humiliating then what she just allowed to come spilling out of her dumb mouth.

“Excuse me?” Peña asked after a few moments of silence as Vic contemplated how long it would take her to physically run the distance back to New York City and never have to look him in the eyes ever again.

“You know,” Oh god she was still talking. There were more words coming out of her mouth right this second and she could not seem to make them stop. “The Golden Girls. The TV show?”

“Was that the one with Beatrice Arthur?”

“Yes! That one! With the old ladies and being retired in Miami and stuff?” Vic couldn’t help it anymore. She had to. She couldn’t just sit here and not for however many more hours they were stuck here. She turned back around in her seat, legs twisting on the dash and faced her partner with a smile. Peña made no attempt to hide the fact that his eyes raked over her, from bare legs, all the way up her body to where both her tee shirt and his dress shirt had ridden up with her twisting about, exposing a not insignificant section of soft skin that hadn’t yet lost its paleness. Vic knew where his eyes had gone, his sunglasses were not that opaque, and she knew that the professional, responsible thing to do would be to yank her shirt down and cover her stomach back up. But the sun felt nice on her skin for now, until it started burning, and she liked that he was staring. She liked that he noticed that she was a woman. That just because she shot a gun and swore and drank beer with him and Murphy didn’t mean she wasn’t subject to the same whims and urges as other women. And apparently the deep seated desire to destroy her fucking career over an emotionally unavailable asshole with a great ass. If that isn’t the height of femininity I don’t know what the fuck is. But this is fine. This is still flirting. Kind of. Mostly.

“I uh-“ Peña cleared his throat, eyes roving slowly from exposed stomach, across breasts and up to her face. He smiled that crooked smile that sent the secretaries a-twitter and leaned further back into his seat, fingers scratching at the steering wheel in front of him. “I’ve only caught a few episodes of that. It wasn’t on for very long before I shipped down here from Texas.”

“You’re definitely a Dorothy,” Vic declared, grin widening as one of his eyebrows appeared over his glasses. “Oh you so are. You’re sarcastic, you’re smart, and you so heroically bear the burden of tolerating Steve and I. Even though most of the time you want to strangle your two gringo partners.” Peña made a thoughtful noise, hand that wasn’t at the wheel coming up to scratch at his mustache.

“Alright fine, who’s Murphy then?” Vic drummed her fingers on her stomach, unintentionally drawing his attention this time. This was better, if she had something to occupy her brain and her mouth she was less likely to offer to suck her partner’s cock and ruin her life.

“Rose. Blonde, a little simple, big hearted, and incapable of keeping his mouth shut,” she replied with a grin, and then laughed as she imagined what Steve Murphy would look like if she ever said that to his face. Peña smiled with her.

Vic thought that that might be the end of that and was a little relieved that nothing too terrible had happened as a result of her inability to just sit still and ignore her unfortunate attraction to the asshole next to her. She had kept her hands to herself this time. She hadn’t said anything ridiculous, she hadn’t thrown herself at him, this was fine.

“So does that make you Blanche by default?” Peña asked quietly, smile shifting into an expression she had seen him use to get forms stamped and women of all walks of life to remove their panties faster.

Turns out it was not fine.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she tried to hedge, sliding her legs off the dash. “I wouldn’t really call myself a Blanche.”

“I would,” Peña countered.

“You calling me a slut, pal? Because I live directly above you, and I’m not sure I can count high enough to put a number to your bed partners this month,” she tried to tease, hoping to get him off the subject of her and on to the subject of whatever local prostitutes he’d managed to lure in with promises of American visas in exchange for information.

“You jealous, Vic? Cause I can always make room for a friend.” Vic snapped her mouth shut, hard, on the nearly instant assent that wanted to come out. She took a few seconds to breathe before countering,

“You couldn’t afford me, Peña. I expect at least breakfast the next morning; some money from Uncle Sam just wouldn’t cut it.” The grin he favored her with was nearly savage in its intensity and she just knew that this game was going to end  with her on her back if she didn’t regain a little more control over this situation. She was starting to ask herself why she bothered to try and stop such an inevitability. They were adults, weren’t they? This didn’t necessarily have to be bad. Right?

He shifted closer, leaning over the gear shift and she heard him draw a breath to say something.

“Fucking hell, look,” he ordered, all business again. Vic turned her head and looked out the window, not seeing anything other than a few mothers with strollers, an old man shuffling in front of an apartment building, and a group of kids playing soccer in the street.

“I don’t…” she shook her head and looked over her shoulder at him, shrugging.

“Right there, behind those kids. The other kids.” Peña pointed over her shoulder and huffed angrily when she shook her head again. He continued to point as he leaned even further into her space.

This was very much not fine.

He smelled like sweat and cigarettes and cologne and that man smell that she was pretty sure was just him. The smell that used to get under her skin and itch and irritate- a sliver of a smell, she could get used to it if she held perfectly still and thought really hard about something else but the second she lost her concentration and jostled it pain and the knowledge that it was still burrowed under her nail went shooting up her spinal cord and into her brain. She hated that smell. She hated what that smell did to her. She hated that she sometimes caught whifs of individual components of that smell on other people, on the wind, in a room and her eyes started searching for him. She hated that after a shootout that smell smothered her twitching nerves and calmed her down. She hated that after seeing another informant turn up dead, body mangled, that smell soothed her long enough for her to get herself under control again. She hated the smile that smell brought to her lips. She hated the heat that smell sent to her insides, the tingling between her legs, the fluttering of her walls.

She hated that she couldn’t even lie to herself. She loved every single one of those things.

This heat had betrayed her for the very last time. This was the last straw, as soon as they caught Escobar she was requesting a transfer to anywhere where it snowed all year round. They had drugs in Canada, right? She spoke French. Canada would be fine.

She had thrown her long hair into a bun this morning to keep it off her neck and to keep it from suffocating her and she had never regretted any decision she had ever made in her life quite as much as she did that one. If she was being honest with herself, and damn this was becoming a habit that she hoped she never indulged in ever again after today, the only reason she hadn’t melted into a puddle of whimpering, overstimulated DEA agent in front of him as soon as his large, rough hand came into contact with the back of her neck, squeezing almost as hard as she wanted it too, was because his other hand was holding her head up by her chin, tilting her face in the direction he wanted her to look. She had no reservations in her mind that she was in control of most of her body and her body’s reactions any longer. Vic was now completely just along for whatever ride her lady parts decided to take with him pressed up entirely too close behind her. Close enough that every time she breathed her shoulder brushed his chest. Every time he breathed she felt it disturb the strands of hair that had begun to escape the confines of her hair tie.

One of those breaths sent a shiver through her entire body and Vic’s eyes rolled a little back into her head. One fist clenched her knee and the other dug into the grey seat underneath her. Every single one of those reactions was noticed and cataloged behind bronze aviators by two dark brown eyes. And Peña tightened the hold he had on the back of her neck.

“Those kids are watching the street and using that radio to let Escobar know which cops are patrolling where. Just like Murphy said they were,” he said quietly, still not relinquishing his hold on her. Even though they had gotten what they had come here for. They could go back to the embassy and tell Murphy he was right. They could plan how to either get around this new roadblock or work with it.

He still was not letting go. And Vic still was not asking him to.

Fuck. Everything.

He squeezed again, gently, rubbing his fingers over the soft skin at the sides of her neck and Vic gasped, hands spasming from their positions of relative safety.

“Tell me to stop, Victoria,” Peña ordered quietly, voice rumbling through her and flowing over her ears from where his mouth was too close to the side of her head. “Tell me to stop right now and we can pretend this never happened and go back to where we were before.” His other hand left her chin and caressed down the front of her neck to her chest, slipping beneath the buttons of her button down and palming her breast through her tee shirt.

She should say stop. She knew this was a terrible idea, if anyone found out she would lose any respect she may have managed to earn for herself from her male colleagues. He would, too. He would stop and he wouldn’t make a big thing of it, they could leave and she could go home and take care of the problem that was staring to soak her panties by herself, as usual, no harm done.

He managed to find a nipple through both tee shirt and bra and pinched gently and that was that.

“I swear to god, Javier Peña, if you stop right now I will murder you in your sleep.”

He tugged her back into him by the grip he still had on the back of her neck and she looked up at him as he pulled his sunglasses off, tossed them on the dashboard, and leant down to kiss her.

His lips were soft. That surprised her, considering everything about the man screamed hard-ass. His mustache tickled her bottom lip as she continued kissing him from this frankly terrible angle, but she didn’t care that her neck was getting sore or that the gear shift was digging into her lower back. Peña held her in place, one hand on her neck, the other leaving her breasts to first deftly unbutton and then untie her shirt, finally burrowing under her tee shirt. She gasped into his mouth, one hand leaving the seat where she had braced herself to come up to the side of his face as his bare hand settled onto her stomach and petted gently.

He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth and her other hand left the seat to hang onto the wrist draped across her, feeling the tendons and muscles contract and relax under his skin as he stroked her, before he finally backed off slightly to allow her to catch her breath, his teeth nipping at her lips as he retreated. He met her green eyes with his, their brown depths somehow darker, and he grinned.

“Those really are some fine tasting cookies.” Vic stared up at him, panting gently, for a few seconds before his words made it past her ears and into her brain. She glared up at him and struggled to sit back up, abdominal muscles clenching under the hand that was still under her shirt.

“You’re an asshole. And you taste like cigarettes.” He was still smiling as she turned all the way around in her seat to face him fully, his hands slipping off of her and landing in her lap where he wasted no time in wrapping them around her waist.

“Good thing I've noticed you like my cigarettes.” She sniffed and looked over his shoulder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Vic yelped suddenly, grabbing his arms as he took the opportunity to drag her across the car, hindered briefly by both of her legs and the gear shift, getting a knee to the stomach, and finally into his lap. And what a mighty fine lap it was. Vic settled herself onto his thigh, legs folded along side his own, and watched his chest as he breathed, mostly bared thanks to his habit of only buttoning about half of his shirt buttons. She reached up to run her fingers over his neck like she had dreamed of doing pretty much since she had met him.

Or rather, she tried to reach him. She felt the now loose tail of her button down get caught between her seat and the shifter, preventing her from wrapping her arms around his neck. She yanked a few times, before slumping back onto his leg.

“A little help here?”

Peña slid his hands up her back under the shirt and tugged, freeing the pale blue fabric before helping her out of it completely, tossing it onto the back seat behind them. Vic, finally liberated, dove for his lips again, one hand at the side of his long neck, the other tangling in his dark hair. Peña groaned into the kiss, his hands on her ass, squeezing and trying to shift her closer to his body. Vic complied, moving her lips across his face to his ear, and moaning softly when her shuffling put her clit in direct contact with what had to be an uncomfortable erection in Javi’s very very tight jeans. She rutted against him, enjoying his hands on her ass, moving her steadily, his quiet grunts in her ear as she did so, and most of all the feeling of his cock rubbing against her, warm and large through his pants.

“Javi, baby, please,” she gasped, nose tuning into his cheek as he thrust up against her as he brought her down against him. “Javi-” she was sweating in this monster of a truck, and she could feel him breathing hard under her. Vic tried to sit up and slide further back on his leg only to find her back pressed against the steering wheel. She wriggled around, elbow knocking into the car door, trying to find a more comfortable way to seat herself.

“This is a terrible fucking place-” she gasped as he flexed the thigh under her. “To do this, Javi.” Peña’s hands halted her squirming and he asked,

“You want to stop?” She shivered as he rocked her harder onto his leg, her back still pressed against the leather and metal of the steering column.

“That is definitely not what I was getting at.” He ‘hmmed’ and she leant back down for another taste of the cigarettes he had chain smoked during their search for Escobar’s juvenile informants.

She broke away from him and stilled, looking down at his disheveled hair and flushed cheeks. She began unbuttoning the rest of his buttons and Peña watched her, hands still holding on, rubbing and caressing her through her shorts as she worked. Finally able to open his shirt all the way, she dragged her hands down from his pecs down his sternum, and down to his stomach. She kneaded the slight paunch she had uncovered, leaning down again to kiss him, getting used to the scratchy brush of his mustache. She loved the evidence of his older, slower metabolism too often exposed to too much beer and tequila. It softened him up a little, fueled her dreams of cuddling with him on her couch after he had fucked the living daylights out of her. Mostly she just loved the soft skin contrasting with the coarse dark hair that started below his belly button and trailed down beyond the waistband of his pants.

Javi grumbled into the kiss as she grabbed a gentle handful of his tummy fat and rocked herself forward on his thigh. Her movements stuttered as the seam of her shorts rubbed directly over her clit and she cried out softly.

“Fuck girl, that’s it, just like that,” Peña encouraged, hands still guiding her movements, back and forth, head thrown back as her fingers kept digging into his stomach. He pulled her closer so he could lean his forehead against hers and one of his hands made its way to the front of her pants. He kissed her roughly as she stopped moving entirely, distracted, trying to undo his belt without looking. His fingers were deft however, and made quick work of both the button and zipper of her cutoffs, sliding into her panties, and finding their way to her now soaking slit.

Vic whined as he traced two fingers up and down her folds, never stopping long enough anywhere to be truly satisfying.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Peña asked softly, voice low, eyes dark. “What do you need?” Vic shifted her hips, bumping into the shifter, chasing his fingers, trying to get them back to literally anywhere at this point. “All you have to do is ask, I’m right here, ready and willing.” His lips found hers again as his fingers continued to stroke, and she felt like she was going to pass out, trying to breathe through both sensations.

“Javi, please, you have to,” she broke off to try and grab his hand to move it where she wanted it. He resisted. “Javi, please! More!”

“More what?” Her eyes found his and she shouldn't have been turned on by the hard look in them but damn, she loved in control Javier Peña, she didn’t care what that said about any latent kinks she might need to explore later.

“Daddy, please, I’ve gotta cum before we go back to base, you have to- '' her voice failed her as her brain caught up with the words tumbling out of her, that was not supposed to pop out of her mouth, that was supposed to stay buried in the fantasies she used to get herself off, alone, where the man thus addressed would never find out about them. Peña’s eyes widened and she felt his cock twitch under her and she moaned as he finally shoved two fingers into her and curled them slightly, the heel of his hand applying steady pressure to her clit.

Vic keened quietly at the sudden intrusion and stretch, her muscles not accustomed to feeling fingers not her own slipping in and out of her, and her head fell forward to his shoulder. The steering wheel dug into her back, and she turned her face into his neck and inhaled that smell she hated to love. Her hands kept massaging his soft stomach as he ordered, lips against her ear,

“Go on, girl, right now. On daddy’s fingers, I know you’ve thought about it before.” Vic gasped and reached one hand down and held his wrist in a vice grip, holding it steady, his fingers deep inside her cunt, and she rocked her clit down hard onto his hand. She felt more than heard his groan as she sighed,

“Javi,” and came over his hand, walls spasming tight around thick digits. She let go of his wrist and he thrust his fingers in and out again a few more times, riding out her orgasm with her before pulling them out completely, smiling fiercely at the whimper that made its way past her clenched teeth.

“There now,” Peña said, panting, removing his hand from her shorts and making his way to his belt that she had only managed to loosen slightly. “That wasn’t so bad. What have we been waiting for?” Vic watched as he slid the zipper of his jeans down and was about to reach for his cock when the radio on the dash crackled to life.

“Peña? Flanagan? You guys there?” Murphy’s voice floated into their humid world, breaking Vic’s concentration on her partner’s dick inches from her greedy hands, and eliciting a groan from Peña that was far from any of the more pleasant ones he’d loosed in the past few minutes. His head dropped onto her shoulder and he bit down gently.

“If we don’t answer him, he’ll assume we’ve been shot and come looking,” Vic pointed out, out of breath and still aroused, leaning her elbow on the window next to her. Peña’s nibbling teeth did nothing to help the little shocks that still shot down between her legs. “I don’t know about you,” she gasped as he moved from shirt to her bare neck, mustache rubbing where spit and teeth had been seconds previously. “But I would rather not look like you just had your hands down my pants when that happens.”

Javi sighed, mouth still attached to her neck, clearly contemplating how long it would take to fuck her in this car and how far away Murphy and Carillo were from their current position. Deciding that he didn't like the odds, he released the bit of skin he had been hanging on to and kissed the red mark gently. He sat up a bit and reached around her, grabbing the radio, pulling her closer to him and grinding up into her while he asked,

“Whats up, Murphy?” Vic stifled a gasp into his chest as the hard ridge of his cock rubbed against her still sensitive clit, bracing herself against the door and the hard wheel behind her, one hand going to the roof of the truck.

“You guys get anything?” Peña continued to thrust against her and hummed noncommittally.

“Yeah, same thing you thought, with the kids and everything- fuck.” He broke off and hissed as one of Vic’s hands left his belly and dug, nails first, into his side.

“What?” Murphy asked over the line. Peña took a second before answering.

“Nothing.” He halted Vic’s movements, slipping a hand into her back pocket and pulling her back along his lap. “We’re coming back to base now.”

“Alright guys, see you in a few.” Peña tossed the radio back on the dash and stared at Vic, capturing her gaze and bringing his hand up to tangle into the hair that was coming loose from her bun.

“We’re finishing this as soon as we make our reports. I’m taking you back to my place and I am going to fill up that tight cunt till the only thing you can remember is my cock, alright?” Vic swallowed, aware again of waves of arousal making their way through her insides, and the smell of sex in the truck. She nodded, eyes never leaving his impossibly dark ones. Well, you’ve already broken nearly all of your rules regarding this man, whats a little more sex between friends, she thought, eyes flicking down to his lips before meeting his again. She watched his tongue wet his lips slowly, before losing all semblance of willpower and leaning down to kiss him again, already getting used to the scratch of hair on her face.

“I think that's a really good plan, daddy,” she agreed, coming back up for air and lifting off his lap completely, half climbing, half crab walking over the gear shift and back to the passenger seat. She refastened her shorts and looked over to see his cock still straining the denim of his jeans, button undone and zipper almost all the way down. “Might want to do something about that though, Agent Tight Pants.” She gestured at his problem with a slightly smug smile. “Unless you’re planning on giving Murphy a show.” Javi snorted, reaching down to zip and button his pants.

“He wishes.”

[pinkja]

Sports, Crushes, College and All Other Things Stressful (Nora x Black Female Reader)

AU where Nora is a stressed out college student and you are a simple black girl who has no time management.

Nora felt like she was a simple person.

She grew up in a small town near Salt Lake City, made it through the akward teenage phase, and graduated high school with honors.

Does it matter that she was always so close to pulling her own hair out in frustration? She doesn’t think so.

She liked to think that her high school years went swell.

She was captain of the swim team, played in both tennis, chess, soccer, and volleyball. She was also co captain of the debate team, won the Reading Bowl in TOME for three years in a row (she didn’t join freshman year) and did a bunch of community service at the homeless shelter every other Saturday from 9am to 3pm.

Yeah, Nora was a simple person, she thinks.

Does it matter that she barely had time to sleep? She doesn’t think so.

She got into college with a full ride scholarship (which her family celebrated for two days straight. It practically turned into a block party.) She was on the Pre-Med track, wanting to become a pediatrician like her grandmother had been, and like her mother had been, and like her older sister had been as well.

Wait…who exactly was she doing this fo–

Doesn’t matter!

She got to get an apartment on the campus housing first year with her best friend, Abby, who’s a biology major of all things, when Nora was pretty sure she was gonna be an English major. Her room was pretty average, but Abby often made comments about how it really needed some personality.

“You don’t even have a poster!” Abby remarked one day while she was laying on Nora’s bed. She had an old copy of Lord of the Flies in her hands, read and re-read about eight times.

“Not everyone needs a poster, Abby.”

“Yeah, they do. Especially when you don’t have a book or a video game, or even something to play music on-”

“Isn’t it enough that I have a phone?” Nora placed her head on Abby’s lap. Abby rolled her eyes and sat up on the bed so Nora would be more comfortable.

“And you had to beg your mother for it. Now hush and let me finish this chapter.” She leaned against the headboard and made a comment about how she was going to buy her a poster for Dirty Dancing or something.

Now that freshman year was almost over, and tennis season for the school had started up again a month prior, Nora, being captain of that and many other teams, was starting to feel even more stressed. She has to aid the coach in training the less athletic recruits, plan their next meeting, and prepare for their next game which was in two weeks, which was a few days before a big biochemistry test.

She was out by the track, the slightly warm early April air hitting the side of her sweaty face after almost an hour of staying out in the sun. There was another hour of practice left, and with a clipboard, a pen, and a timer in her hand, she watched the baby-faced girls run laps around the field.

“Ok, the game is on a Saturday, it takes around 30 minutes to get there by bus, so 30 minutes to get back… but the game ends at 6:30 so I have to give at least another 30 minutes to an hour for traffic, not including the time it takes to shower and pack our stuff up so the latest I’d get home is around…” She looked up from her clipboard, tapping her feet on the floor. “Jackson! If you want to play in the next game you gotta beat your record! Pick up the speed!” She called out to a red haired girl.

God, I really hope I’m not sweating out my hair, she thought, brushing a few stray hairs back in her ponytail. Nora went back to muttering.

“Ok so that means I’ll be home by 8 at the latest, and if I lock myself in my room and pull an all nighter, I could probably get all my studying done by 6-ish? Maybe… I would have to stock up on coffee. I’ll stop by the store on the way ho–”

Nora’s quiet rambling was interrupted by a voice.

“Hey, Captain!” Nora didn’t turn around, already knowing who it was by the voice alone.

(Y/n) (L/n).

Ah, Nora’s feelings for you were…complicated, to say the least. But we’ll get to that later.

“Sorry I’m so late.” You rubbed the back of your neck with a sheepish smile.

“Fourth time this month, (Y/n).” Nora’s voice was stern, exasperated and a bit annoyed.

“I know. I know, but–”

“You know the drill. 10 extra laps and you have to beat your record or else you don’t play in the next game. Go.” Nora didn’t look up from her clipboard, but knew you were pouting anyways.

Your footsteps echoed in Nora’s ears as you ran to the field, smiling at your teammates as they passed you. She marked off your name on her clipboard and wrote “Late” next to it, again, with furrowed eyebrows and annoyance tickling the back of her brain.

When 4 o’clock came, the girls all filed out of the field and towards the locker room, feet tired and sore. You were still running, of course, doing the 10 (plus 10 extra) laps you were assigned. Although you weren’t, Nora felt like you were taking your time, acting as if you hadn’t a care in the world.

“God, I have to get home and study…” Nora whispered and rolled her eyes, even though only 5 minutes had passed. By 4:15, you were done, walking back to her while rubbing your left thigh.

“How’d I do, Captain?” You asked while wiping the sweat off of your forehead. You balanced yourself on the balls of your feet. Nora clicked the button on her timer once again and finally looked at you.

You had sweat stains on your blue shirt, and you picked at the edge of your shorts that rode up your thigh just a little bit.

“Two minutes under your last time. I guess you get to stay in this time around.” Nora said curtly, pursing her lips while doing so.

You smiled as if you already knew the answer. “Aw come on, Captain. Have a little faith in me, yeah? I’m not all bad.” Your nose scrunched you as you pouted.

God your lips were so cu–

“But I do stink though. Imma hit the showers real quick. You coming?” Nora gulped, mind going a little to the left as she snapped out of her thoughts.

“Yeah.” Was all Nora could say in response.

They walked into the locker rooms, all of the girls clean and gone. Nora placed her things on one of the benches, opening and looking into her locker for clean clothes. You did the same.

“Jeez, all that time I put into doing my hair only to sweat it out in less than 10 minutes. I don’t know how you do it, Captain.” You remarked, looking in the mirror of your locker. Nora hummed, but didn’t respond. She grabbed some fresh clothes from her gym bag and started stripping.

Nora peeked into the mirror in her locker at you. Yours was diagonal from hers. You were still looking at yourself, not at her. Part of her wanted you to be.

Once she was done, she wrapped a towel around herself and grabbed some soap and a rag. She showered in silence, only being interrupted by the pat pat of your footsteps on the floor as you hopped in the showers next to her. You tied your hair up and put a bandana around your head before starting the shower, and Nora looked away before she could see anything else.

She thanked whatever god there was that there was a wall between you two.

But what if there wasn’t?

Nora started to feel very self-conscious all of a sudden. She started to take note of the stretch marks and too thick hairs on her stomach and arms and legs.

Oh my god, is my hair presentable?

She went to smooth out her hair with a (thankfully) not soapy hand, but stopped herself. She wouldn’t want to ruin her hair now. She spent all morning getting it together.

Wait? Why am I worrying about my appearance? My body is fine.

After her little realization, Nora started scrubbing really hard at her arms and legs, preoccupying her mind with the upcoming test.

Nora finished before you did, wrapping a towel around herself and waiting until she was out of your sight to start drying herself. She put on some lotion and deodorant, got dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and a green shirt and sneakers before grabbing her stuff and going to leave.

“Captain!” Your voice stopped her.

Dammit! She was almost free!

“Yeah?” Nora took a few steps back but didn’t look in your direction.

“Can you…um…stay?” Nora’s spit got caught in her throat. “I mean, until I’m done. I really don’t like being in the locker room by myself. My mom always told me don’t let myself be in a room alone.” You let out a laugh, albeit a bit nervous.

Nora nodded, spitting out a stuttered, “Sure.” She hopes she didn’t sound too excited. She leaned against the outside wall of the showers, facing away from you once more. Nora waited (im)patiently, suddenly remembering how she forgot her glasses at home and that’s why she hasn’t been able to see well all day. She also remembered the stain on the coffee table that she was too busy to clean up because she was rushing out of the house because she had slept through her–

The squeak of the shower faucet snapped Nora out of her thoughts as the rush of water stopped. Nora kept her eyes on her shoes as you passed her, suddenly very interested in the speck of dirt on the toe of her left shoe.

I should clean it later, Nora thought.

“Captain?” Nora’s head snapped up, looking towards you with large brown eyes. You brought a plump lip into your mouth before giving Nora a smile. You were done getting dressed, snatching the now-wet bandana off of your head.

God, is it hot in here? Nora feels like she’s been sweating oceans.

“Thank you for staying. I’m sorry if I bothered you.”

“No problem.” It’s not like she doesn’t have a test she has to study for or a meeting at 6 for a club that she really couldn’t remember the name of now which was really concerning, but Nora couldn’t bring herself to care because you were smiling at her and Nora’s heart was not working anymore.

Although part of her wanted to be mad at such a carefree attitude and your seemingly lack of schedule, she settled on scolding you instead.

“Practice is next Monday at 3. Try not to be late next time.” You nodded before grabbing your stuff from the bench behind you and walking out of the locker room in silence. Nora followed before you both split off in different directions.

Nora’s weekend was filled with nothing but meetings and studying and homework, with the constant repetition of “Game on a Saturday, test on a Monday” leaving her mouth. She started her mornings at 4 am, going for a 2 hour run around campus. At 6 she went back home and took a shower, answered a bunch of emails about things that Nora couldn’t bring herself to care about anymore, and then she spent a good 3 hours studying old material from her classes, read a book she was assigned for Lit, then she was back studying again.

Wait, did she eat anything?

She wouldn’t have if Abby hadn’t practically shoved a piece of turkey bacon down her throat because, “You literally haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon” which she should be grateful for her friend’s willingness to remember the important things for her when she forgot them. She had meetings for Spanish and French Honor Society, Creative Writing, the school’s green club, and she also had to tutor a bunch of kids who were failing their math classes.

And to top it all off, you were late to practice, again! God, Nora wanted to be mad at you. You were being selfish at this point. Didn’t you know that if you were late she had to stay with you until practice was over?

Well, technically, she didn’t. She could leave practice whenever she wants to but honestly she didn’t want to leave you to practice alone. Plus, you might slack off!

Nora’s eyebrows twitched at the thought. It’s like you didn’t have a care in the world! You just walked around wasting her time, your time even!

You arrived 15 minutes late, better than last time, but still late.

You were already preparing your excuses, but Nora shushed you, telling you to go and practice on your serves. You did just that. Nora had already completed her drills, now just waiting for you to show up. She wrote your name down and the word “late” next to it once again before she went back to observing her team.

Once 4 o’clock rolled around, the girls rolled out and into the locker rooms, while you stayed behind. Your serve was good, Nora thought, you were just a heavy hitter and would forget to try and get the ball into the court first.

After watching the ball fly past the court for the 3rd time, Nora sighed and made her way over to you. You spotted her and gave her a smile.

“Hey, Captain! You need something?” You asked as you threw the ball in the air. You hit it across the net and watched as it flew straight into the wall. You grabbed another ball from the basket next to you and went to do it again until Nora gently grabbed your wrist and pulled it back down.

“You hit too hard, (Y/n). Try it again, but with a little less force.” Nora stated, backing out of the court to watch you once more.

You tried again, only for the ball to land just outside of the court.

“That’s ok, (Y/n), just try again.” Nora encouraged you. You tried again and again, only for you to keep hitting it out of the court.

You let out a huff, frustrated. “Captain…” You whined, turning to her with dragged feet. “This seems pointless. I just keep hitting out of bounds.” Nora raised a brow, not taking you for the type to give up so easily.

“You know we can’t leave until you get it right.” You pouted at her answer before going to try again. Nora stopped you, walking up to you and grabbing the hand you were holding your racket in. “Here. Make your hand face the net. That always helped me serve better.” Nora turned your wrist. “Now plant your feet so they’re in line with your shoulders.” You listened. “Now breathe in, slowly, and as you breathe in, toss the ball into the air and as soon as you exhale, swing. Don’t focus on the force. Focus on how your hand moves to hit the ball.” Nora realized how close she was to you, how weird this must’ve looked to others and what they might think.

She was starting to get self-conscious again.

Nora cleared her throat and backed out of the court again. Once she was far enough, you served again, the ball just making it into the court. You jumped up in excitement, coily hair bouncing with you. Your eyes darted towards her, a wide smile on your brown face.

“Captain! Captain I did it! Did you see?” You spoke with the giddiness of a child with a new toy, and, suddenly, Nora’s anger at you disappeared. Nora nodded with a smile.

“I saw. Good job, (Y/n).” You smiled wider at her praise, going to pick up all of the balls you managed to drop. Nora helped.

After cleaning up the mess you made, you both walked to the locker rooms. You repeated your routine from Friday, with Nora finishing earlier than you once again. Nora remembered how you had asked her to stay, and decided not to leave you behind. She walked to her locker in silence, getting dressed in some jeans, a graphic tee, and her same pair of sneakers she always wore before leaning against the walls of the showers like she did once before.

She was still facing away from you.

“(Y/n)?” Nora called, despite the lump in her throat about having to talk to you while you were naked.

“Yeah, Captain?” You answered, stopping the humming you were previously doing.

“May I ask, um, why are you always so…late?” Nora tapped her fingers on the wall and hoped she didn’t offend you with the question.

You were silent for a moment before answering. “I just lose track of time, y’know?” Nora’s eyebrow twitched again. You spoke as if you knew what she was thinking. “Yeah, yeah. I know that’s not a good excuse. However, I get so caught up in the little things that I just forget to remember the big things.” Another twitch of the eyebrow.

God, was it gonna get stuck like that?

You turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself as Nora moved to sit on the bench. She preoccupied herself with her shoes again and waited for you to get dressed. The buzz of your phone interrupted the silence between you two. You grabbed it from out of your locker and looked at the bright screen before scowling and placing it back in your bag.

“I wanna know, Captain.” You started, as you put underwear on. Nora cursed the human evolutionary habit of looking at anyone and anything that made noise, as she had turned her gaze towards you as you were putting on a dress and oh my goodness you weren’t wearing a bra. Nora’s face burned as she quickly turned back around to look at her shoes. “Have you ever had Mr. Lance before?” It took a few seconds for Nora to register your question, and once she did, she shook her head no.

“U-Um… no. No I haven’t, um… Why do you ask?” Preoccupy yourself with the test, Nora. Focus on the test.

Game on a Saturday. Test on a Monday.

“I wanted to thank you for once again putting up with me and helping me in practice. Other captains would’ve just left me there.” Now she felt bad for thinking about leaving. “You wanna go?” You turned to her with another smile, not caring that Nora wasn’t even facing you.

“You don’t have to. It’s really no problem.”

Game on a Saturday. Test on a Monday.

“Come on, Captain. Please. I promise you it’ll be worth your time!” Nora finally gained the courage to look at you, and you were pouting. Good god you were pouting and it was so adorable and Nora really has to learn how to focus again.

Game on Saturday. Test on Monday.

Nora was in a trance. Your eyes had caught her in a trance and she couldn’t get out but she had to. So she agreed to your little adventure. You jumped up again in excitement and Nora was once again reminded of the fact that you don’t have on a bra. You both walked out of the locker room and you led Nora down the street to one of the coffee shops about 7 minutes away.

“Mr. Lance is just a few minutes from here.” You started as you put your phone in your bag after checking it again. “And I know the name seems kinda boring, however, they serve the best ice cream there is.” You gave Nora another beaming smile to reassure her, even though Nora didn’t need any reassurance.

Once you both arrived at the little parlor, you opened the door for Nora and she was immediately hit by the cool air and the smell of mint. Nora scrunched up her nose a little bit and sat at one of the red chaired booths. You sat opposite of her and folded your hands on top of each other.

“What do you usually get here?” Nora asked you, pushing her glasses up to her face.

“I either get the triple chocolate milkshake or the extra cookies and cream ice blizzard. But that’s my personal preference. Get whatever you want.” You said nonchalantly, not even looking at the menu.

Would it be too embarrassing for Nora to admit that she didn’t know how to choose? Nora thought that yes, it would be. However she couldn’t just not order something after you had brought her all the way here. That would be rude! But it would also be rude to sit there and order something she wouldn’t want and then sit there and pick at it because she had never really had time to–

“And what about you, miss?” Nora jumped at the voice. She looked up from her death match with the colorful menu and at the waiter who was standing there with a notepad in her pale hands.

“Uh…oh! Oh! I would like a…” What the hell was that first thing you said? “A triple chocolate milkshake, please.” Nora’s face burned at her awkwardness. Maybe she didn’t leave that weird teenage phase at all.

“Coming right up! I’ll just take these off your hands.” The waiter grabbed the menus and walked off to the kitchen.

Nora tried to act like she didn’t feel your gaze on her while you waited, and felt grateful when your phone buzzed for the third time that afternoon.

“Guess I’m popular today, huh Captain?” You let out a chuckle as you turned your phone off.

Nora smiled back and she hoped it wasn’t crooked.

You pulled at a curl on your head and frowned. “I’m so glad tomorrow is wash day. My hair’s been so uncooperative lately.” You pulled at the same curl again and watched as it bounced back into place. “Captain.” You called her. Nora answered. “What do you think I should do with my hair? Twists or plaits? Ooh maybe I can do box braids instead.” You shot out ideas to her, hoping she would choose and make your life a bit easier.

“Um… I think you’d look good in–in twists.” Frankly you would look good in anything.

Wait, what?

“Don’t you have to set out the whole day for that? You have classes tomorrow, don’t you?”

“I have one class in the afternoon but it shouldn’t be a problem. I can catch up easily.” You said nonchalantly.

She looked at the clock on the wall to check the time. 5:45 p.m. She cursed how fast this day was going.

Their treats came a few minutes later and you popped open your straw and dug in. Nora did the same, eyebrows raising at the onslaught of very, very sweet chocolate attacking her taste buds.

“See. I told you it was good!” You said, licking a little bit of chocolate off of your lips. You swirled your straw around your glass. “I’m glad you decided to come with me, though.” You said offhandedly.

“Why did you decide to bring me here?” Nora didn’t mean for her voice to sound all nervous. She would roll with the punches.

“Hmm. I already told you earlier that I wanted to thank you for putting up with me.” You took another sip and stuck your tongue out a bit. “But also, and forgive me if I seem rude but, I thought this would relax you.” Nora raised an eyebrow. “You always seem so…pent up. Like a stiff. I just noticed that you might need some sort of release or something, Captain. That’s all.” Nora realized that you were the only one to address her as Captain after practice, and in that moment she started to feel very…different.

Was she uncomfortable?

No, Nora wouldn’t exactly describe it as that.

It was just that the heat creeping up her neck and the sudden realization that you were right and the idea of getting some sort of release, as you put it, was making her feel very, very weird.

It didn’t help that Nora’s gaze went back to your lips and eyes and hands and chest and the realization that you weren’t wearing a bra hit her again and–

Why the hell was she so focused on that? Of all the damn things to focus on? It’s not like the concept of not wearing a bra was foreign to her, she did it from time to time herself but what the fuck was so different when you did it?

Focus on something else, Nora. Focus on something else.

Like the test!

She had a game on a Saturday, and a test on a Monday.

Game on a Saturday, and a test on a Monday.

Game on Saturday, and boy were your eyes cute.

Game on Saturday, test on a Monday.

It’s not like she had a problem with it.

Game on Saturday, test on Monday.

She was fine. Nora was so fine. Nothing to worry about here.

Maybe she did need a release. A time for herself to relax.

Game Saturday, test Monday.

Oh god was she staring at you?

Game, test. Saturday, Monday.

Were you smiling at her? You look so sweet.

Monday. Saturday. Monday. Game. Test. Relax. Release. Relax. Relax. Game. Test. Saturday. Monday. Relax. Release.

Her glass was empty and you were smiling at her and UGH.

Nora stood up, her knees knocking into the booth as she did so.

“Is everything alright, Captain?” You expressed concern over her. Your eyebrows furrowed as your smile went away.

“I gotta go.” Nora managed to choke out. She reached into her back pocket for her wallet as you stared at her with confusion.

“What? Are you sure?” Nora threw $20 on the table and grabbed her bag from the floor.

“Yeah. I gotta… I gotta go…” Nora turned and sped out of the shop, leaving you alone.

She made it back to her apartment and unlocked the door with shaky hands. Abby greeted her from the couch, hair in a low ponytail instead of its usual braid.

“Hey, Nora you–“ Abby stopped herself when she finally looked at her roommate. “What’s wrong?” She turned to her and grabbed her before Nora could sped past the couch. “Come on. Around the couch you go.” Abby pulled Nora by her belt loop around the couch and made her sit down. “What’s up with you. And don’t say you have another test to study for because you’ve already studied enough.” Nora scrunched up her nose and looked away from Abby.

“There’s no such thing as too much studying.”

“Nora…” Abby’s voice was stern.

“Fine, fine… There’s this… this girl and she… she said I was a stiff and treated me to ice cream today and I can’t focus around her and also I can’t stop thinking about her and also–” Nora plopped herself face first into Abby’s lap, groaning loud enough for her roommate to hear.

“Does my Nora have a crush?” Abby teased at her, poking the back of her head. Nora sprung up.

“What! No! Of course not!” Abby didn’t believe her. “I just can’t focus around her, that’s all. And it’s frustrating me.” Nora defended herself, slumping against the couch.

“Hmm. Sounds like a crush to me.” Abby retorted, leaning her head on her hand.

Nora couldn’t have a crush! I mean, when has Nora ever had time to think about crushes? Or dating? Hell, with boys or girls!

“I don’t have time for crushes, Abby.” Nora slumped some more until she sat on the floor.

“You don’t have time for anything, Nora! All you do is work, work, work. And I know we’re in college but that doesn’t mean you have to give yourself to the seeds of capitalism just yet.” Abby kicked Nora in the thigh as a way of telling her to get off the floor.

Nora got up with a pout.

“All I’m saying, Nora,” She started, propping her feet on the coffee table, “is that maybe this could do you some good. You got to enjoy life, and you can’t enjoy it if you’re stuck hunched over a book all day.” Nora rolled her eyes before retreating to her room to take a cold shower.

The next morning, after her 4am run and a long shower, Nora got dressed for the day and sat down at her desk to study. She didn’t have any classes today, her professor for the day sending out an email to cancel class the night before. She opened the giant biology textbook that never left her desk and tried to remember where she had left off last.

I was writing notecards, she remembered as she searched her desk to find them.

Her search was interrupted by the loud ping of her cellphone. Nora chose to ignore it, thinking that it was probably just Abby trying to remind her to eat something. Her phone vibrated again and Nora rolled her eyes with a loud sigh and got up to check it out.

She walked over to her bed and picked the phone off the pillow, squinting her eyes at the sudden light hitting her face as another notification came.

“Hi, Captain!” It was you. You texted her.

Oh my god you texted her!

“I know you said only to use your number in case of emergencies but I guess this would qualify as an emergency because you kinda left in a hurry so!!!”

“Are you ok, Captain? I wanted to check up on you afterwards but I didn’t know whether you’d want me to use this number or not so I didn’t text you but I didn’t know what happened and I was getting nervous so I texted you.” God did you ramble.

“Sorry for rambling.” You sent a few seconds later. You added a crying emoji for effect.

It was then, in that moment, that Nora realized she didn’t know how to respond to you.

Why weren’t her fingers moving?

Why was she just staring at her phone with a stupid face?

Move, dammit! Move!

With a deep breath, Nora let out a big, long groan of, “ABBY!” Said friend was at her door within seconds, hair in a frenzy and protein bottle in her hands, ready to attack someone.

“Nora! Nora what is it? Is someone dying?” With wide eyes, Nora handed Abby her phone, to which Abby lowered her guard and grabbed it out of Nora’s hands. “Nora are you fucking kidding me?” Abby deadpanned after reading the messages, seeing it was only someone expressing concern over her friend and not like…cyberstalking her or some shit.

“I don’t know what to do please help me.” If Abby wasn’t so mad at her she'd tease her for her inexperience and compare her to a lamb. Abby flopped on the bed with a groan and started typing away.

“Wait, wait, wait! What are you doing?” Nora asked frantically as she tried to snatch the phone out of her hands.

“I’m replying. Duh!” She said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“No, but Abby! What are you saying to her?” Nora whined, attempting to grab it again only to fall on Abby’s lap.

“You know, for someone who denies that this is a crush you aren’t really helping your case all that much.” She continued typing, and Nora thought that whatever she was typing would be long and embarrassing and stressful.

“Abby!” Nora dragged out her name as she tried to reach for the phone again. “Come on! I know you’re gonna put something embarrassing!” Nora gave Abby a pout and made no move to move off of her friend.

“I’m not! I swear!”

“Then read it to me!”

“What?”

“Read what you wrote to her!”

“Ugh, you’re so childish.” She said as if she wasn’t the one typing something to Nora’s…Nora’s…well…Nora’s whatever. “Hey, (y/n).” Abby paused. “Such a cute name by the way. Good choice.” She continued. “I’m fine. Thanks for checking up on me. I was wondering if we could meet up later and–” Nora started to protest, reaching up for the phone. Abby held it away from her. “And I could, hey quit that–” Abby smacked her hand away. “I could explain why I’ve been acting so weird lately, if that’s alright with you–Nooooooo.” Abby whined like a child when Nora snatched the phone away and deleted the text message. “All my hard work! Wasted! Oh the inhumanity!” Abby fell on the bed, fake fainting.

“I don’t wanna meet her.” Nora muttered as she stared at the phone with a glare.

“And why not? I told you, this is good!” Nora looked at her in disbelief. “This is good! You need a break, Nora. If you don’t slow down now next time you have time for yourself you’ll be a bag of bones!”

“Not a bag of bones…”

“Yes, a bag of bones! So you are going to take this phone, text this girl back, and you are going to talk to her or by god I will throw your planners away. And I know where you keep them. All of them.” Abby pushed the phone up to Nora’s face.

“Even the Scooby Doo one?”

“Especially the Scooby Doo one. That goes first. Now type.” With a cry and a wail about how hard Abby was making her life, Nora started texting you back, giving the phone to Abby for approval.

“Hey, (y/n).” She started typing. “Abby please don’t make me do this.” Abby didn’t budge. “I’m fine. Thank you for checking up on me. I promise I’m ok and you don’t need to worry about me–”

“Don’t put that. You're invalidating her feelings.” Abby interjected.

“…I’m happy you checked up on me. If you want I’d like to meet–”

“Abby I’m nervous! Please can’t I just go back to studying?” Abby told her no.

“…up with you again. Maybe sometime this afternoon. Or whenever you want to it doesn’t have to be today it could be tomorrow or next week or–”

“You’re stalling.” Abby warned her, already reaching for her Scooby Doo planner hidden under her mattress.

“…Is this afternoon good?” Nora closed her eyes and hit send.

You replied within a minute.

“Sure! How about around 5. I should be done with my hair around then.” You sent a bunch of emojis afterwards and Nora plopped down in the bed with a groan after she agreed.

“See? You see how good things go when you listen to me?” Abby put the almost destroyed planner back in its place and patted Nora on the head. Nora groaned even louder. “Now. I want to know what time you’re going so you can have time to look nice.” Abby added emphasis on that last part. “And I mean it. No sweatpants or oversized jackets. I want you looking nice.” Nora’s face dropped at Abby’s constrictions.

“You’re already making me suffer by going outside but now you’re making me dress nice? You’re killing me, Abby!”

“No, I’m helping you. Now hold on for a second. I need to text the group chat about this historical moment.” Nora's eyes widened as she watched Abby get up and run back to her room before she could stop her.

When 4:30 rolled around, Nora patted herself down nervously and stared at Abby with a confused face.

“Come on, Nora. You look fine.” Nora stared at herself once more, her black jeans, light blue t-shirt and black shoes seeming too…boring for this.

“I-I don’t know, Abby. Maybe I should just cancel and say I got sick. Is it too late to hit myself with something?” Nora held her purse in shaky hands.

“No! You’re doing this. Now come on.” Abby dragged her from out her room and to the living room, where their friends, Manny, Owen, and Mel were hanging out and watching tv.

“You guys! Abby’s forcing me to go outside! Help me!” Nora tried to plead as she dragged her feet on the floor.

“Hmm… I don’t see a problem with that.” Manny spoked, looking at her with amusement clear on his features.

“Yeah, Nora. Owen and I for sure thought you were going to turn into a vampire or something if you stayed inside any longer.” Mel agreed while Owen nodded his head.

“That’s not how vampirism works and you know it!” Nora planted her feet into the ground and groaned. “Owen! Hide me! Help me! Save me!” Nora pleaded as Abby pushed her along to the door.

“Sorry, Nora. My expertise is animals not humans.” He said with a shrug and put his head on Mel’s shoulder.

“Traitors! Traitors! All of you!” Abby finally got her to the door and pushed her out with a huff.

“You be back no earlier than 6. Got it?” Abby ordered. Before Nora, could protest, Abby interrupted her. “If you wanna save the Scooby Doo planner you better start walking.” Nora closed her mouth and glared at her before calling her a muscle head and walking away. She heard the chorus of bye’s and have fun’s as she walked down the hall. You both had agreed to meet up at the campus park, and as Nora walked up, she saw you sitting on the bench with a book in your hands. Nora recognized it as Pride and Prejudice, something Abby had read a thousand times.

You looked up and spotted her. With a smile, you said, “Hi, Captain!” You placed the book beside you and waved at her. You had twists in your hair, and it went down to just below your shoulders.

“Hey, (Y/n).” Nora sat down next to you and placed her hands in her lap.

“I’m glad you decided to meet up! I was really worried about you yesterday.” You tried to keep the smile on your face despite the concern present.

Nora’s face burned as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“Yeah, um, sorry about that I…um…” Nora couldn’t really explain herself in that moment.

“No need to explain yourself, Captain. I’m just glad you’re ok.” Your smile never faltered and Nora decided to smile back.

“But-But thank you! For, um, taking me to the ice cream place yesterday. I really appreciate it.” Nora didn’t know why she was stuttering so much. If the group were here they’d be laughing at her.

“No problem. I like going there a lot. Not just for the treats but…it’s calming. Gives me time to get away.” Your phone buzzed and you checked it with a frown.

“Is everything alright?” Nora felt kinda sad when your attention wasn’t on her.

“Yeah. It’s just my stupid ex.” EX? Ex as in ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend? Ex-partner? Oh my god what was Nora thinking? She didn’t have time for crushes! Let alone any time for exes or dating of feelings or–

“Hey, Captain.” Nora perked up.

“Y-Yeah?” She could run. Nora could run and hide and go back to the apartment Scooby Doo planner be DAMNED.

“You remember when I told you about getting caught up in the little things?” Nora remembered, yes. “This is one of those little things. Just relaxing in the park, or going to the ice cream parlor, or staying after practice with you.”

Wait, what? Nora must’ve misheard.

“I could never share those little things with anybody else. Not even a person I had thought I liked. But I can with you.” You turned to her with a smile, moving a stray twist from out of your face. “I’m glad I was able to show you the things that relax me. Hopefully, Captain, they can relax you too.”

“Nora.” She blurted out.

“Hmm?” You titled you head to the side.

“You can call me Nora. I-I don’t mind.” You smiled at her, and Nora started to feel her heart burst in her chest.

“Ok…Nora.” Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Nora liked you.

Holy shit. She liked you.

“I-I’m glad you thought about me so much.” Nora played with her fingers as she spoke.

“Well, Nora. How about we go see a movie? I hear there’s this new mystery movie that’s so intense that people lost their senses when they left the theater!”

Nora laughed at your giddiness.

“Sure. I’d like that.” You stood up and grabbed your book to place it in your bag. You held out your hand to Nora and she took it, although a bit hesitantly.

“Cool. Let’s go, then.”

Maybe, just maybe, Nora could learn how to handle a crush this time around.

[therealjordan23]

Maybe some uhhh debbigail fluff? Pretty please 😂

Maybe uhh yes😂😂

ooo

Summer had finally come, and Dewey had taken some time off work to spend some time with his family in Duckburg. Actually, Scrooge himself had ordered it. Ever since they found jobs in different areas, he and his brothers saw each other about once a year, and Dewey assumed Scrooge had enough with the lack of ‘family time’. Dewey had missed everyone, but he found himself missing a certain pink bowed girl a little more than necessary… 

 “Hey tough guy!” Webby shouted. 

 Dewey playfully glared at his best friend. “I’m right in front of you, Webbs, no need to scream.” 

 “I guess it’s a Webby thing, and I’m just so happy to have you back, Dew!” she said gleefully, and Dewey smiled. “Listen! Lena’s having her old amphitheater cleaned out, and she’s lending me her place for the weekend!”

 Dewey raised an eyebrow. “Where are you going with this…?”

 “Spend the weekend there with me! It’ll be one, big slumber party!” Webby exclaimed, making Dewey blush. 

Dewey’s mind raced. A weekend? Alone with Webby? It was the sort of thing he’d daydream about, and think about at night: him and Webby alone, cuddled up on a big comfy bed, fast asleep in each other's arms. His strong arms would be around her smaller figure, and his hands would be running through her soft hair…

 But he was getting ahead of himself. 

 “Yeah, sure. Why not.” Dewey cracked a smile, the smile that had always made Webby’s heart melt.

Webby jumped with glee. “I’LL GO BUY HUNDREDS OF UNHEALTHY FOODS!” she screamed. 

Dewey laughed. That amazing laugh that made her heart melt as well.

The rest of the day found both Dewey and Webby packing their things for their weekend. Dewey looked around his room—he was happy that nothing much had changed. There was still a triple bunk bed, his brothers’ things were strewn around the room, there were dozens of posters of movies and bands they liked… sometimes he missed this place a little too much. 

As Dewey packed his bags, there was a soft knock on his door. 

“Louie!” Dewey exclaimed, rushing to hug his younger brother. “What are you doing here? I thought you were coming tomorrow!” 

“Lena pulled some strings,” Louie smirked. “What's this I hear about you spending a weekend alone with Webby?” 

Dewey snorted. “We’re going as just friends, and nothing more, Lou. don’t get any wild ideas.”

Louie gave him a sly smirk. “Oh, the ideas are already there, Dewford. And remember, this time Mom wants grandkids!” 

Dewey blushed crimson, thinking about the ‘incident’ when he dated Webby back in high school. “S-shut up, dude!” 

His brother just laughed. “Come on, dude. You’re both 24. When are you going to admit that you still have feelings for each other?” 

Dewey sighed. “She doesn’t like me like that, Lou. Not anymore.”

“Oh, really?” Louie snorted, tossing him one of Webby’s various journals. Dewey frowned, and opened it, only to find this scribbled almost everywhere:

Mrs. Dewford Dingus Duck

Mrs. Webbigail Vanderquack-Duck

Mrs. Duck

Dewey blushed, and his eyes widened. “S-she still likes me?”

Louie rolled his eyes. “For a guy who’s a professional adventurer, solves mysteries about long lost artifacts, and literally rewrites history, you’re pretty stupid. Of course she still likes you. Do you still like her…?”

Dewey sighed. “I never stopped.”

Louie set a hand on his shoulder. “Then tell her that.”

ooo

Webby had left for the amphitheater a little earlier, so he entered the stage.

Lena’s old room was the same as it had always been, just a little cleaner and more updated: Dark blue and purple walls were littered with pictures of rock bands, and some photos of Violet and Webby. In one corner was her bed. It was a bed for two, and Dewey remembered when Lena and Louie would spend countless nights here with each other back in their college days. 

In another corner was a desk, where a few books about the Shadow Realm were stacked. Beside that was a dark laptop, and in the other corner of the desk, was a blue cup, holding a few pencils and pens. Near the bathroom was a purple dresser that Lena kept her clothes in. On top was a hot pink lava lamp, and a large framed picture of Lena and Louie on their wedding day: it was romantic—Louie was dipping Lena in the middle of a thunderstorm, and several bolts of lightning illuminated the skies behind them. Lena had one leg up, and cupped Louie’s face. Both had intense expressions on their faces, but Dewey knew if you looked close enough, you could see that both were crying from joy. 

Something caught Dewey’s eye, and he walked towards the dresser to find a pack of condoms, and beside that was a note with Lena’s handwriting: be careful Dew-night! ;))

Dewey groaned. 

“Webbs?” he called.

“I’m in the bathroom! I’ll be out in a minute!” she called. 

Webby swung open the door, and Dewey gawked at her: she wore a long white blouse, long enough so it reached her mid thigh. Her hair smelled like jasmine shampoo, and was still damp from the shower. She smiled the smile that had always made Dewey’s heart melt. He really wanted to kiss her. Her adorable face and everything beneath that goddamn blouse… 

“Are you just going to stare at me?” Webby playfully glared. Dewey snapped out of his little daydream and sheepishly smiled, scratching the back of his head.

“Uhm, s-sorry…” Dewey apologized. 

Webby shrugged it off and grabbed the laptop on the desk, heading for the bed. She looked at him expectantly.

“Are you going to join me, dummy?” she giggled. 

“Hmm?” Dewey shook his head like a wet dog, trying to keep his mind off of Webby, who was fresh out of the shower, wearing a hot outfit, and lying on a bed, waiting for him. “Y-yeah! One second!”

He dropped his bag, and Webby frowned. 

“You’re going to come like that?” Webby asked. 

Dewey frowned, and looked down at his jeans, jacket, and shoes. He blushed, and disappeared into the bathroom, returning wearing a pair of grey sweats, and a comfortable black tank top. 

“Much better,” she smirked. 

The two sat in Lena’s room, and watched Darkwing Duck on her laptop. Webby laughed at the parts when Drake was visibly nervous of Morgana. Dewey thought about the mysteries of the last episode. When was he going to reveal that he was Drake Mallard? The two pigged out on pizza, soda, chips, and candy, and stayed up late watching the old show, laughing at the bad mistakes.

“Jeez, it’s 1 in the morning,” Dewey yawned. “We should sleep soon.”

“I didn’t even notice,” Webby frowned. 

Dewey chuckled. “I think Ms. Vanderquack got carried away binging movies again.”

She scowled playfully. “Hey, that only happened once!”

“Okay, okay,” he held his hands up in mock surrender. “So I’ll sleep on the floor and you can—” he started.

“Wait, what? No. I can sleep on the floor.” Webby insisted. 

Dewey smiled. He was flattered that she would sleep on the floor for him. But she was the lady, and his Uncle Donald taught him that he was supposed to be the gentleman.

“No, no. You can have the bed, Webbs, I don’t mind.” 

“Dewey—”

“Webby.” he warned.

“You know what?!” Webby snapped, pushing him onto the bed. “We’ll both sleep on the bed!” she glared at him. “HAPPY?” she shouted.

“Fine!” he snapped back.

Realization of what they had just agreed to hit both of them like a truck, and Dewey found himself scooting further and further away from Webby. 

“Y-you’re okay with this, r-r-right?” he stammered. 

“Y-yeah, only if y-you are.” she stuttered back. 

“D-don’t worry about me!” he squeaked.

An hour passed, and both adults found themselves in the same position, neither daring to move a muscle. 

“Dewey? Are you awake?” Webby’s voice didn’t sound raspy or drowsy, and Dewey knew she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep yet. And it was the same on his end. 

“I’m awake, Webbs,” he said nervously. 

Both paused, anticipating the next question.

“What are we, Dewey?” she finally addressed the elephant in the room.

He faced her, and sighed. “I… I don’t know. I know we’re best friends, but deep down, I want to be more than that. Ever since that breakup in high school, I tried not to have any feelings for you, but… things didn’t go my way.”

There was a tense silence.

“Y-you still like me?”

“Webby, I never stopped,” Dewey murmured, running his hand through her soft hair. How they went from the edge of the bed to the middle, and had gotten so close remained a mystery. “I still like… I’m still in love with you.”

She stayed silent, and Dewey felt his heart sink. Then she grabbed his face, and kissed him deeply. He wasted no time, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her on top of him. Their lips parted, and both found themselves heavily panting.

“Y-you idiot!” she managed between breaths. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to tell me that?!” 

“Uhm…” Dewey trailed off dumbly. 

“Ugh, just go grab the box on top of Lena’s dresser, I’ll scold you after!” she groaned.

Dewey’s eyes widened at what she had just implied, and he had never rushed off to do anything faster in his life. 

And that night was the best night of his life. 

ooo

Back in the writing business :D

[horrorslashergirl]

Night at the Asylum: A Dave Anthony Horror Fic.

Warning: Suicide, Disturbing Themes, Gore, Torture.

Tom and his friends; Julia, his girlfriend and two other guys, Mark and Carlos were in front of the Waverly Hills Sanatorium, backpacks and videocameras with them. It was summer and they just finished the second year of college, and decided to do something interesting, a short movie perhaps, since Tom was on the filmography class.

"I don't know man. This place looks desserted and its frickin' huge." Carlos said, and all he got in return was a roll of eyes from Tom.

Julia didn't wanted to come, since all the stories and urban legends of this place gave her the chills, but she wasn't going to let her boyfriend down.

"Its just one night to prove that there is nothing here but garbage. So, lets go. We have everything we need for tonight." Tom told them and began to march up the big steps of the principal entry, with the three following him.

He pushed the double doors open and stepped inside, the disgusting smell hitting his nose.

"Jeez! Somebody died here?" Mark said, putting his hand on his mouth and nose, his hazel eyes looking up at the big, impossing interior.

"And to think here died over 5,000 people." Julia said in a quiet whisper.

"I think they said they were over 10,000." Carlos interjected.

"Wanna look over this place? I think the cabinets where the doctors kept their files is on the second floor." Tom said, moving up the steps, carefull.

The place looked empty, save for everything that a hospital needed to have, now covered in dirt, bugs and other nasty looking stuff.

After 30 minutes of searching the room with the files and hystory of the Asylum, they finally found it. The Office looked strangely more fresh than the hallways and rooms where the patients resided.

The four began to look through the files, looking for information that might be helpful.

"This place held over 8,000 patients. Dude, that's almost impossible." Mark said, sitting down on the desk, a file in hand.

"I heard that there were much more, but the deads were so many that they created a death tunnel where they transported the bodies." Tom commented, looking over the shelvs that held books upon books of informations about the former patients.

Julia took one and began to brows the files, until a file fell from the book that held the profile of a patient. She crouched down to pick it up, her eyes scanning over the name.

"Dave Anthony?" she said, more so asked and the guys turned to her.

"Who's that?" Tom asked, coming to her side to see what she was reading.

"I heard of him. He is a local legend more so, but yes, he was a former patient here, very unstable." Carlos explained to them

"I thought this Sanatorium held people sick of tuberculosis, not the insane ones." Tom spoke, looking over at Carlos, urging him to tell them more.

"Yes, he was sick, but also sick in the head. I read about him. I heard he killed over 50 people, maybe more, he also raped his wife and killed her and after he set fire to a neighbours house." Carlos told them and he could tell that Julia was affected by the story, by the look in her eyes.

"But its just an urban legend ya know! I also heard that he was so dangerous, the doctors and nurses moved him into the death tunnel, chained him to a wall and left him there to die." Carlos spoke into a creepy voice, trying to scare his friends.

"Very funny? You sure have an imagination." Tom rolled his eyes, looking over at Julia to make sure his friend didn't scared her.

"Oh, but that's not all. After one week a nurse came in to see if he was still alive. He was dead, but he wrote a message on the wall with his own blood.... 'I will be back'." Carlos finished and laughed.

Mark hit him upside his head, telling him to cut it out.

After they more search, it started to get dark and they decided to move into the main room for the night.

"Do you think the story is true?" Julia asked Tom, who put an arm over her shoulder, trying to comfort her.

"Its not true. Tell her, Carlos." Tom spoke and he was tapped on the shoulder by Mark.

"Umm... Guys. Carlos is not here." Mark said with a concerned face.

When they all turned around, indeed Carlos wasn't behind them.

"I think he wants to scare us. Carlos! Come on! Cut the bullshit." Tom said, walking back down the hallways, followed by his girlfriend and Mark.

"Damn Carlos and his stories." Tom muttered under his breath, turning from corner to corner down the dark hallways, until there was a scream, making them all freeze in fear.

"W-Was that Carlos?" Julia asked in a shuttering voice.

Tom followed with his friends on the sourch of the scream and they stopped in front of a door with a small window glass. When they looked through it, they felt paralized. Behind the door was Carlos, strapped on a surgical table that looked like it was used for the theraphy with electroshocks. A set of what looked like headphones was on Carlos head, said headphones connected to an industrial machine that gave him shock after shocka, blood starting to drip from his mouth.

"Help! Oh God! Help me!" he screamed, spitting more blood, his eyes bloodshot.

"We have to help him!" Mark screamed, tugging on the door handle, but it was locked. They continued to bang on the door and it finally unlocked itself, but by the time they entered the room, fums were coming from Carlos head, his mouth hanging open as pink foam came out of his mouth.

"T-This cannot be happening!" Mark screamed, tears running down his face as he looked over at his dead friend.

"We have to get out of here. Now!" Tom finally said, grabbing Julias hand and leading her out of the gruesome scene with Mark running after them.

When they entered a hallway, all the glasses of the windows from the doors, pitch black hands with claws coming out. They continued to run, until Mark screamed, one of the hands had grabbed onto his arm roughly, digging their claws into his flesh.

"Help me! Guys!" Mark screamed, pain shooting through his arm.

The black arm tugged on him and his back meet the door, more hands coming out of the door and tearing at his flesh, blood following out and onto the dirty tiles of the hallway.

Julia began to sob into Toms chest, who hugged her tightly to his body.

"We have to move on. He is dead." Tom said, running with Julia to find the exit. They moved so deep into the Asylum that they got lost down the maze of hallways.

They continued to run, until Tom stopped, a loud gasp coming from his mouth and he clunched his stomach in pain.

"Tom! Are you alright!?" Julia asked, crouching down next to him.

He grinded his teeth as he felt an deep pain into his back. He tugged on the back of his shirt and Julia gasped, putting her hands over her mouth; deep scratches filled her boyfriends back, red rivules running down.

"Julia! You have to get out! Now! Something is wrong!" Tom screamed, clunching his head as pain filled his body.

Julia was frozen in fear of what was happening and she stepped back as a row of black spikes shot from his spine. Tom turned to her, his once blue eyes were a pitch black, making Julia take small steps back.

"Tom?" she asked, her breathing getting ragged.

He crouched down, his brown hair turned a snow white, his skin getting a sick look and his nails got sharp and a black color.

"No Tom." his voice got deeper, sounding like more than one person was speaking.

Before she knew it, he lunged at her, knocking her down with him on top of her. His mouth forming a dark grin, the skin at the corner of his mouth starting to rip and a set of sharp teeth pecked from behind pale lips.

"What's the matter Julia? Don't you love me?" he asked in a mocking fashion, his sharp nails, running down the tiles next to her head.

"W-Who are you?" she asked, tears running down her face as she looked up at her former boyfriend.

"Why, you don't know me? You just read my files some hours ago? Such a short memory." he said and her eyes widened, catching on.

"D-Dave? Dave Anthony?" she asked in a quiet whisper, making the entity chuckle.

"In flesh and bones of your boyfriend!" he laughed and gripped her neck tightly.

"I am gonna have so much fun with your soul." he whispered, running his mouth down her neck and to her ear, taking a deep breath of her.

"My, my. Looks like your boyfriend didn't took your innocence..... Fucking pussy." he smirked down at her, now his form completly changed.

He was tall, over 7'0 and smelled of death. Julia began to sob and pray to God, closing her eyes, then she quickly opened them when Dave punched the tile beside her head, cracking the floor.

"Fuck God. There is no God here. I am, you dirty little whore." he glared down at her and like a lightning hit her, she moved from under him, running down the hallways to find the exit, the poltergeist laughing behind her.

"Run, Julia! You can run but you cannot hide!" he screamed at her, then a maniacal laugh echoed through the building.

Julia turned corner after corner, unt she finally found the exit, throwing the doors open and stumbling down the stairs, running to the car and driving away into the night.

After 3 months...

Life after the night at the Sanatorium wasn't the same for Julia, paranoia was following her everywhere, hearing voices, having nightmares. She was turning insane and her parents decided to move her into an Asylum into her home-town. She refused to eat, to even go out of her room, saying that he was following her, that he was going to kill her.

One night she was laying in bed and praying, then she felt a cold presence tower over her form on the bed.

"Still praying to God? Pathetic." the raspy voice spoke into her ear and she felt a cold and black substance drip onto her face.

"Please... Leave me alone. Don't kill me." she begged, tears running down her bony cheeks.

"Kill you? Not now. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the next week. Probably next hour." Dave chuckled darkly, his black eyes looking down at her, his claws ripping the white bedsheets.

Then just like that he disapeared and the next thing made Julia scream. He was creating deep gashes into her back, then her chest. She couldn't tale it anymore.

Her teary eyes looked up at the bars on the windows then at the bedsheets.

Next day...

Julias parents were on the hallway, at the reception of the Asylum, crying and couldn’t believe that their daughter was dead. She just comited suicide yesterday at midnight, hanging herself on the bars of the window.

The doctors told them that she had intense paranoia and depression, probably because her boyfriend broke up with her.

After the suicide they moved the body from the room and a nurse came in to clean up. She swore the room was much colder than the other spaces of the building.

After she was done, she felt a cold breath down the back of her neck and a rattling of chains.

Slowly, she turned around and she dropped the dirty bedsheets, her eyes wide open looking into pitch black ones.

Before she could scream a black hand with claws moved over her mouth.

"Ah, ah, ah... Now, be a good little girl and don't scream. Will ya?" The poltergeist spoke, his mouth opening and a black long tongue came out of between rows of shark teeth.

The nurse was trembling, her back flush against the door of the room.

"Elizabeth? That's a cute name." he chuckled and the nurse couldn’t believe that he knew her name.

The man or more so the creature was tall, towering over her small frame. Her eyes widened when something crawled out of the entitys mouth, it was black with many legs; a centipede.

The creature moved from the demons mouth and fell down on the floor between the two. Elizabeths legs began to shake when the centipede crawled up one of her legs and under the white nurse skirt.

Green eyes widened and a silent scream left her lips, feeling the slimy thing move between her legs and inside her.

Dave smirked down at her, the centipede disapering inside the nurse, her face paralized in fear.

"I wanted to do this to Julia, but she killed herself. Eh, her lost." Dave grasped her chin roughly, his eyes looking deep into her own and she began to whimper, feeling something inside her.

"That's just something for you to always remember me. See you real soon." And with that he disapeared.

Elizabeth fell down on the white tiles of the room, tears running down her face as a laugh echoed into her head.

The message was clear 'I will be back'.

Authors Note: My first time writing Dave Anthony, my poltergeist OC. I almost forgot how to write supranatural things, but its quit fun.

[sincerelyreidburke]

got hitched

Quick ficlet for my Bencole people. Featuring domestic Quindo. Cross-posted to the ao3 cricket ficlet collection.

//

eight years after graduation | august

 Sebastián is completely unsuspecting, when the Snapchat comes in.

The house is quiet, and he and Quinn are in bed. He figures they’ll actually go to sleep soon, or at least soonish, but for now, they sit up against their pillows, with the light still on. It’s long past Violet’s bedtime; Quinn put her down at least an hour and a half ago, and after sitting out on the patio with him for a bit, Sebastián carried his husband to bed for little to no reason other than he just felt like carrying him.

He’s watching a Coyotes preseason weekly recap on his phone, and next to him, Quinn is knitting. His yarn is royal blue and bright red; he’s working on a scarf he keeps swearing he’s going to mail up to Remy to wear to games when his season starts. To celebrate his contract , Quinn said, when he told Sebastián what he’d be doing, all self-satisfied smiles. I think he could use something new in Montreal colors, don’t you?

His needles clack together every now and then, and the audio on Sebastián’s phone is low, but it’s not like Quinn would be bothered by that anyway, seeing as he took his hearing aids out for the night hours ago. Their house, Sebastián is happily aware, is a safe zone for Quinn, has been since the day they bought it to build their life in together.

A notification buzzes his phone, and the banner at the top tells him he has a Snapchat from Ben. Which isn’t weird, until it is— because what time is it in France right now? It has to be, like, kind of early in the morning, right? In what world is Ben up early on vacation?

He opens Snapchat to investigate. The Snap has been sent into a group chat, but not a new one; it’s one containing himself, Ben, and Quinn, and has to have existed since college even though it hasn’t been used in a short while.

He opens the Snap. It loads. As it loads, he wonders if this is a leftover message from Cole’s show last night. That was, after all, the whole reason Ben crossed the Atlantic Ocean for vacation in the first place. It’s Cole’s first tour outside the US, and Ben and Remy created this whole scheme for Ben to surprise him, which Remy was on board with because he will use literally any excuse to travel to Europe, especially France, and Sebastián has heard about this over several elaborate text exchanges, phone calls, Snapchats, et cetera—

The Snap loads.

Sebastián looks at it.

Wait. Wait . WHAT?

It expires before he can fully process, but he knows what he saw. He scrambles to replay it, leaning forward and off the pillow.

It’s a picture, a selfie, of Ben in bed with Cole wrapped up in his arm. They’re both, like, clothed and everything, and they look all soft and in love, but that’s not the main point of interest.

Because Ben is holding both of their hands up to the camera, and although Cole has had his black engagement ring for upwards of two years, Ben… is also wearing a ring. And Cole is holding a piece of paper. A certificate.

The caption Ben has typed reads: got hitched

Cole is holding a marriage certificate .

Sebastián screenshots the picture before it can disappear again, and then immediately starts tapping-slash-whacking Quinn in the thigh to get his attention. He’s gentle about it, but he still feels bad when Quinn startles and shoots daggers up at him. He drops his needles and signs. What’s wrong?

In lieu of signing a response, he turns the phone to Quinn, because it’s easier than attempting to convey via sign his current stream of consciousness (Ben got married is he kidding how did he just get married in the middle of Paris on a whim oh my God he is going to bust his ass so much but also he’s pissed because he wanted to go to his actual wedding and Ben Shaley Is Actually Fucking Married he can’t believe it like yeah he knew this was coming because he’s been engaged for two years but like— Rho got married !!!!!!!?!??!????!!?!).

Quinn studies the photo, then his eyes widen with realization. In a moment, he shifts from his complete bedtime serenity to animated, excited confusion. He looks up to Sebastián, then back to the phone, then up to him again, and signs, in quick and snappy motions, They eloped? , and then, immediately, Call Ben.

Sebastián nods, as Quinn lunges to the bedside table and grabs his hearing aids. He opens the phone app, and picks Ben out of his favorites, and as it rings, he just sits there vibrating. He can’t believe it. He actually can’t believe it. Ben just went and got married. Like— okay, that’s admittedly the most Ben way he could possibly think to get married, but— is this real life?

Ben picks up on the second ring, as Sebastián is putting the call on speaker. “Helloooooo!” His voice is singsong, like he knows exactly what he did. Which, like, obviously he knows what he did. But Sebastián is still shook —

“ Dude !” he cries, half-laughing, as Quinn leans back over to him and scoots closer on the mattress. “How could you just send that out of context?”

Ben laughs. “In my defense,” he remarks, his voice the picture of chill, “it really doesn’t require that much context, right?”

Quinn fiddles with his ears, and then he must get them turned on, because he chooses that exact moment to cry, “Benjamin Shaley.”

“Mini!” The joy in Ben's voice is indescribable. “I knew you’d bitch me out for this!”

“I cannot believe you,” Quinn says. “You did not elope last night.”

“Oh, but I did,” Ben remarks, every bit the wise-ass he’s always been, and he sounds so happy , and Sebastián is, like, so fucking happy for him right now—

“Rho— congratulations , holy shit,” he tells him. “Did you plan this?”

“No,” Ben laughs. “Not even a little. And I think that’s maybe the best part. Hold on.” There’s rustling and mumbling on his end for a second, and then a fourth voice enters the conversation.

“Good morning, guys.” Cole’s voice is super raspy, like he just woke up. Sebastián tries to do some quick math, but all he can determine about time zones is that it has to be early over there. “Sorry we didn’t tell you.”

“Cole, I can’t believe this,” Quinn says. “How could you let his chaos influence you?”

“Mm.” Cole pauses, contemplatively, and then yawns. “I’ll actually be letting his chaos influence me for the rest of my life, now.”

Quinn takes a deep, therapeutic breath. Sebastián wraps an arm around his shoulders. He has, many times, seen his husband get simultaneously pissed and excited; it’s a hilarious thing to witness. “I love you both,” Quinn says, in a slightly less sharp voice. “And I’m so very happy for you. But words cannot describe how much I wanted to actually attend your wedding.”

“We’re gonna have a party, Q,” Ben replies, like he was ready for this question. “When we get home. Well. Like. Not right when we get home. But we’re gonna start planning it when we get home.”

Quinn pauses, like he’s contemplating this, and in the silence, Cole adds, “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

“Well, I’ll say,” Quinn says. Sebastián thumbs at his shoulder, to soothe the good-natured rage. “My goodness , you two. I should have known you’d get married some crazy way.”

“Tell us the story!” Sebastián adds, because he is extremely eager to know.

Cole lets out a soft laugh. “It’s not a long story,” he says.

“We were at dinner,” Ben explains. “Last night, after the show, with Remy. And Cole just… out of nowhere. He was like, we should get married.”

“ Cole Kolinsky ,” Quinn gasps. “Your mother is going to kill you.”

“She knows!” Cole cries. “She knows. I promise. She’s the only person who knew before you. Her and Remy.”

“Was Rem with you?” Sebastián asks.

“He was with us when we decided to do it,” Ben says. “But not at the town hall.”

“That little shit,” Sebastián cries. “Where is he now?”

“Out galavanting in the streets, I bet,” Ben mutters, and Cole laughs at him.

“I’m sure Remy is asleep,” Cole amends. “We were out so late last night.”

Quinn rubs his temple, leans into Sebastián’s embrace, and whispers, “I cannot believe you two.”

“Oh, you love us, Quinny,” Ben says. “Don’t even try to hide it.”

“Of course I do,” Quinn replies, in that tone so characteristic of him , where he’s firm and kind at the exact same time. “My goodness,” he says. “You’re entirely too much for me.”

Cole laughs again. “I promise, Quinn,” he says, “it’ll be a really good party.”

“Oh, it best be.” The grin on Quinn’s face is so cute, Sebastián could combust. “I have very high standards.”

“Ah, yes,” Ben says, in a posh accent, “nothing but the best for the esteemed Quinny Cooper—”

“ Ben ,” Cole mumbles, and Ben laughs so loud.

“I’m so—” The initial shock has sort of worn off, but Sebastián still feels like he’s processing several things at once. “I’m so happy for you guys, jeez ! Why are you awake so early, anyway? It’s your honeymoon morning!”

“I have to—” Cole breaks his sentence with a yawn, like talking about being up early is making him more tired. “I have to be on my tour bus at eight-thirty.”

“Oh, Cole ,” Quinn whispers. “That’s a real wrench in your morning, huh?”

“Is what it is,” Cole replies.

“Wait, so… what time is it now?” As soon as he mentioned the fact that it’s their honeymoon morning, it started occurring to Sebastián that he and Quinn are… keeping them on the phone. On their first morning as a married couple. He loves his friends to death, but nobody interrupted him and Quinn the morning after they got married. It was just the two of them; even Vi was at Mama’s house for a sleepover. The only thing they had to do was bask in that fresh joy.

“It’s seven,” Ben announces. “Seven-oh-nine.”

“Okay, so,” he says, “I’m gonna, like, hang up the phone now.”

“ Nanny ,” Ben says, with a snort. “We knew you’d want to talk.”

“Yeah, but we talked,” he replies, “and now I’m hanging up so you guys don’t have to, like, talk to us until Cole leaves.”

“Hm.” Ben pauses, and then, in his peak wise-ass tone, remarks, “What if I hang up first?”

“Oh, goodness , you two,” Quinn mumbles, into Sebastián’s shoulder, “don’t get into one of these arguments.”

“Bro, you hang up first.”

“No, you hang up first—”

5,000 miles away, in a hotel bed in Paris, Ben Kolinsky hangs up the phone. He rolls over in bed and grins at his husband. “How did I do?”

Next to him under the nice white sheets, Cole is the best thing he has ever seen. He laughs, with his hand over his face, before he reaches for him. When they meet in the middle of the mattress, Cole presses a kiss to his lips. “You are an idiot,” he whispers.

“Mmm.” Ben kisses him again, and Cole wraps around him, and he thinks there’s absolutely no way heaven could be any better than this. “That’s a title I’ll proudly own, but only with an amendment.”

Cole tangles his fingers in Ben’s hair, long and now sort of messy from sleep, but who gives one single fuck what their hair looks like when they just got married to the love of their life last night. “What’s the amendment?” he asks, between kisses.

“That I’m your idiot.”

“ Oh .” Cole laughs. His eyes wrinkle shut, and Ben is going to be gone on him for the rest of his days. “You’re definitely my idiot.”

“Perfect,” Ben says, and kisses him again, and he doesn’t need anything else.