#just put her in another room damn she sick and tired

[ptanalo]

They are forever in their honeymoon era 🫶

[frombookstoretobookstore]

In Sickness and In Health

Abbot x Sick!Reader (Platonic) Robby x Reader (Because who doesn't want to be cared for by this hunk)

Masterlist

You’re trying to listen to Robby as he gathers the day shift before things get too busy, you really are. However, you’re working harder to hold in the chest rattling cough that’s plagued you for the past 24 hours.

You lean against the nurses’ station, one hand on the counter the other on your knee as a pained cough finally rattles past your lips, another two or three escaping with it. 

You hear Robby pause slightly, him and Dana shooting you a look of concern.

“Wrong pipe,” you wheeze, pointing to the cup of crappy hospital coffee next to. You must be convincing enough as they both turn their attention back to the meeting.

Robby ends the meeting and people start to disperse. You offer him a small thumbs up as you drink the coffee, begging the warmth to sooth your throat.

“Don’t be stupid, I can see your forehead veins.” Dana mutters as you look up and glare at her, daring her to call your bluff. “Be a real shame if someone told Jack.”

Your eyes widen and before you can plead with her not to tell him, another fit of coughing doubles you over and makes your head swim.

“I think I’m about to eject my lungs out of my damn face.” You groan, sucking up a disgusting amount of snot before righting yourself, the world swimming slightly.

“You shouldn’t even be practicing medicine with the number of cold meds in your body, let alone be here.” She hisses over the counter, knowing how stubborn you could be.

“I’m fine.” You wheeze, placing your head over your arms on the counter, begging your body to pull it together.

“How the hell did you get this past Jack” Robby asks as he tips your head back, hand on your forehead.

You groan and bat his hands away. “I’m fine.” It comes out as a whine, your sinuses throbbing with each word.

What you don’t see is the silent conversation between Dana and Robby, both already knowing that you’re anything but fine. You stumble slightly as the world tilts, Robby supporting you by your elbow.

“Alrighty, let’s get you to South 4. Dana, fluids please.” You try to bat off Robby again as he guides you towards an open bed, Dana chuckling from behind.

You go to reassure him once again that you’re fine, that not even Jack noticed. But the world lurches and you stumble, your knees buckling.

“Alrighty kiddo, you’re done.” Robby says as he scoops you up, carrying you towards the trauma room. The world is swimming, and you try your best to stay awake, but the universe slowly closes in.

You wake to Dana sitting on her phone next to your bed, her feet propped on the edge of the bed. You groan and turn to fully face her, your body not responding quite as fast as you need it to.

“You move anymore, and I’ll put you in soft restraints. Nearly decked Robby when we put your IV in.” She doesn’t look up, her no nonsense tone enough to stop you from moving. A groan escapes your lips.

“Way to go. You’ve got influenza A kid. We’ve got you on fluids as you dehydrated yourself chugging coffee.” She laughs as she removes her feet from the bed and leans onto the bed, brushing hair out of your face.

“Please tell me you didn’t call him. He’ll kill me for not telling him and himself for not noticing.” You groan, your throat still scratchy and raw from coughing. Another cough rattles your chest.

“Going to work with a 100-degree fever, are you stupid?” Jack says as he rushes in, his hand on your forehead as he checks the saline bag you’re hooked up to. You groan, sending a glare to Dana. She holds up her hands in mock defense.

“If you’re going to shoot the messenger, aim for Robby.” She says as she pats your hand as she gets up to leave. “He barely got out that you’d passed out before this one freaked.”

“I didn’t pass out.” You say groggily as Jack takes a seat next to you, “I just got suddenly tired. Get that shit out of my face.” You bat at Jack as he starts shining his pen light in your eyes, his hands coming to put pressure on your sinuses. You groan at the pressure and pain.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if you develop a sinus infection.” He’s gone full clinical as he assesses you, talking out loud to no one in particular. “Well, they’ve got you on fluids, we’ll get you on an anti-viral as well. Add in some fever reducers and rest, you’ll be fine.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you scrunch your nose.

“Get out of here, I don’t want you getting sick.”

“I don’t’ get sick.”

You groan at his steadfastness, his unrelenting worry oozing from his eyes.

“Just discharge me and I’ll sleep it off on the couch, I’ll be fine.” You groan, pulling the blanket up to your chin, suddenly cold.

“You aren’t sleeping on the couch hotshot; I’ve got a full healing regiment I’m keeping you to once I get you home.” Jack smooths back your hair as you groan.

“I can manage.” You cough, turning away as to not cough directly in his face.

“Doesn’t mean you have to. You’re sicker than hell, let me help you out on this one.” He speaks. 

“Just get me home, and I’ll be fine.” You whine; another cough makes your tired lungs hurt.

“As soon as we finish hydrating you, be a good girl and finish that saline.” He laughs as you weakly put up a middle finger. “There’s my girl. I’ll get your discharge paperwork done and then you’re getting the full Abbot treatment once we get home. I don’t care if you don’t want to, you lost autonomy privileges when you snuck that sickness past me at shift change today.

You only groan at the pain in your head. “Stop talking, you’re hurting my head with your ego.”

“Love you to!” He says with a laugh as he goes to get you discharged so he can care of you at home.

-----------

Lmk what you think! This was purely self indulgent because I'm sick and love the idea of that man taking care of me.

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 11)

Their background is clear to you—always has been since your social worker told you about them in her car on the way here.

They’re military men. Most of their long lives have been spent in the field. She even mentioned that their first children grew up on base when they were little.

Which sounded cool, you thought. It was so different from the office jobs other foster parents had. A bonus, even—it made you feel safe in their house.

They were bigger than most. If not by height, then by width. They were large. Buff. Even the damn harpy, who was supposed to be lean, had broad shoulders and lots of muscles.

So you felt safe. That was a big bonus. Better than that weird suburban house you stayed in, where the mother often avoided the creepy neighbor who looked predatory. You remember his strange glances and how nervous the mother was when he came knocking one night while her husband was away.

How nervous you were as you watched their interaction a few feet away.

So, you’ve always had a big thing about safety, thanks to the weird places you have stayed.

And they felt so safe. It was comforting, really. After the initial phase of settling into a foster home—when you flinched away from everyone until you got to know them better—you started to relax.

(Unless they were the angry type. Or worse, the type to lay their hands on you.)

So, when Price sat you on his lap, checking your temperature again and combing your hair with his hand and sharp claws, you felt... calm. Eh, not totally, you admit. You still tensed a little when his hand came near your face and stayed quiet because of your shyness.

But it was progress, and you really, really wanted to feel at peace with them.

When night came, after they gave you more medicine, warm tea, and another serving of John's bean and bacon soup, they decided to put you to bed early.

Which... was fine. You were actually very tired. Sickness does that to you.

Price carried you, lifting you easily from the dining room chair with the booster seat they’d gotten from somewhere. He placed you down carefully in the big nest full of heavy blankets and pillows, the others following behind at their own pace.

Being there gave you a chance to watch more of their routine.

Ghost was the last to enter. You could hear him rattling things downstairs and turning off lights as he came. His low voice confirmed that all windows and doors were locked.

Gaz was already in the room, sitting at the nest’s edge as he combed through his wing with a special tool, a weird looking comb thing. Johnny worked on the other wing with a concentration you didn’t know he could manage. Both of them were close to you, their legs nearly bumping your small form in the giant nest.

Price moved calmly around the room, putting things away and finishing his hygiene routine in the attached bathroom.

"Feeling better?" Gaz cooed softly, his leg—talons, talons, such sharp talons—bumping near you to get your attention.

"Y-yeah, better..." you answered quietly, nodding for emphasis.

"Good." He crooned, satisfied, especially when Soap purred right after.

(Is it really a purr if he’s a werewolf?)

"Good pup, such a good pup. Really brave, huh? Dinae complain even once. So strong..." Soap murmured, leaning over Gaz, who relaxed back against him.

"It's just a small fever..." you mumbled, frowning a bit at his exaggeration. You were shy. "It’s nothing..."

"Not nothin’, kid." Simon grumbled, finally climbing into the nest after discarding his mask and gloves. He lay beside you, checking your forehead again. "Sick is sick. A flu is a flu. Still makes you feel like shit."

"Simon..." Price scolded as he emerged from the bathroom, closing the door behind him. "Didn’t hear the hatchling say one bad word ’til now. Don’t influence her."

"To be fair, we barely heard her speak at all until now." Kyle retorted sassily, smiling at Price before glancing down at you. "Small, quiet fledgling."

"Nah, she’ll warm up to us!" Johnny declared confidently, shaking his head. "Right, pup? Wanna play with Papa tomorrow? We can play anything ya want!"

"Tone it down, mutt. It’s snowin’ outside," Ghost grumbled, already wrapping your small body in one of the blankets.

"We can play inside. We’ve got the space," Soap said smugly, finishing Kyle’s wing before slipping into the nest on your other side. "We can play, pup. Promise I’ll be gentle!"

You tensed a little, unsure. Your expression showed your doubt with your little frown. After a few seconds of silence, you managed to murmur.

"....o-okay... I guess..."

"See? Who said peer pressure doesn’t work?" Ghost deadpanned, making Price snort with laughter, faint wisps of smoke escaping his nose.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, hatchling. Soap will understand." Price says with a quiet laugh, approaching the nest as he adjusts some kind of shoulder weight attached over his sleeping shirt where his missing wing used to be.

You stare at him for a moment, frowning slightly in confusion.

"...Soap...?"

Your question seems to stun them for a moment before they all start laughing softly, like it’s some kind of inside joke.

"Tha’ would be me, lassie." Johnny replies with a big smile, flashing all his sharp teeth as he leans closer. "Just a codename. Military, aye?"

"Nickname...?" you mumble, still confused.

"Close, hun. Codename." Gaz explains with a gentle laugh, sliding into the nest now, his wings resting against Soap and Price’s backs.

"It’s like a nickname, but it’s used for secrecy. So bad people don’t know our real names." Ghost adds calmly, his heavy hand giving your back a slight pat.

That makes you scrunch your nose slightly.

"Why Soap...?"

Once again, the others laugh at your question, except Johnny, who just sighs quietly, though his smile remains.

"Doesn’t matter why." The werewolf says with a shrug, still grinning as he gestures at Simon. "This bastard is called ‘Ghost’ in the field, Kyle is ‘Gaz,’ and John just uses his last name, ‘Price.’"

You nod quietly, blinking as you process the information. It’s kinda weird, but it makes sense for their lifestyle. Military men for most of their lives, huh? That actually makes you wonder...

"...Are your kids also military...?" you ask softly, hugging your knees over the thick blanket.

"Thank fucking god, no," Price answers quickly, sounding both relieved and horrified at the thought.

"I thought we weren’t doing bad words?" Ghost asks slowly, his tone sarcastic as he sends Price a bored look.

"Oh, shut it." Price growls softly back, leaning closer to him with a sharp smile.

"But no, none of them are in the military." Kyle chimes in, smiling slightly. "Doesn’t mean they didn’t think about following our footsteps at some point, though."

"Wee lads and lassies always thought the military was cool, wanted to be like their papas." Soap says dreamily, though his smile falters slightly to a more nervous smile. "We would never let them, though."

"Why?" you ask innocently, tilting your head in confusion. "You didn’t like the military?"

"No, no, not that! Ah love the military, wee lass!" Soap defends quickly, waving his hands around. "Can’t imagine doin’ anything else with my life!"

"But no parent wants their kids in such a dangerous job," Price interjects, shaking his head as he mutters under his breath. "Honestly, if I had my way, they’d still be here in the nest with me."

"Ignore ’im. Dragon instincts get the best of ’im sometimes." Ghost mutters, shaking his head before gently nudging you down into the nest. "Come on, kid. We can talk tomorrow. It’s sleep time."

You’re still curious, but you nod, laying back against the nest. Johnny immediately curls around you, his giant body wrapping you up entirely. You even feel his tail loop around your legs. You tense for a moment at the closeness, but soon relax, rolling slightly to burrow your face into the blanket. His much larger body shields you completely.

"Night, kid." Ghost grunts as he settles, his hand resting on top of your wrapped form.

"Sweet dreams, hun." Gaz murmurs softly.

"Sleep well." Price adds last, leaning down slightly as the others settle into their spots in the nest. "Call us if you need anything, alright?"

"Gonna be monitorin’ her. It’s fine..." Johnny mumbles, still draped protectively over you. "Good night, lassie."

You fall asleep as the lights turn off and the others cuddle into the nest. Despite the heavy snowstorm outside, you feel incredibly warm.

Safe.

Part 10 / Part 12

[froggiewrites]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

SFW

Summary: You spend the night crying into your drinks about how much you want Sanji, and how much it hurts he's in love with someone else. Sanji spends the night crying about much the same. Your friends get sick of it, and decide to help the idiots realize what everyone else already knows. Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Misunderstandings, Sanji and Reader both being idiots Word Count: 4.1k

You are going to get drunk tonight. Plastered, even.

Another day, another victory, another adventure spent staring longingly at Sanji when you were sure he wasn’t looking. You could usually handle the embarrassment of acting like a lovesick puppy for a man you knew didn’t feel the same, but something about today really set you off. Maybe it was the way he so sweetly called Nami’s name when you all reunited, or the way he so carefully prepared Robin her favorite drinks, or some other transgression you can’t quite remember. You don’t know exactly what it was, but you know you’re irritated and hurt and a little heartbroken, and there’s about a half a dozen drinks with your name on them behind the bar.

The tavern is lively and loud, and the rest of the crew is clearly having a good time. Your eyes briefly linger on Sanji at the bar, but you try to force your eyes away. No point in lingering here, yearning for something you can’t have. You instead make your way to the back of the room, wedging yourself between Zoro and Robin, who seem to be drinking in silence together.

You had intended on sharing in the peaceful silence, broken only by some quiet comments and gentle chuckles, but three drinks in you can see them side-eyeing you, brows furrowed.

“What?” Your voice comes out harsher than you meant it to, but you’re a bit too drunk to care.

“Just surprised you’re drinking so much, is all. You normally pace yourself more than this.” Robin’s voice is quiet and controlled, as though she’s just making a passive observation, but you know your friends and you know she is deeply worried about you.

“I had a bad day.”

“Really? You seemed fine earlier.” Zoro sounds genuinely surprised. Robin shoots him a look you can’t read, and he quickly shuts his mouth.

“Does this have anything to do with a certain someone?” Her voice is kind, so kind, but it makes you clench your jaw anyway.

“No.”

Silence.

“Maybe.”

Zoro mutters, “Oh, god damnit,” before taking another stiff pull of his drink.

“What happened, exactly? You both seemed perfectly friendly this morning.”

“I don’t…know. Everything was fine until it wasn’t, and now I’m all twisted into knots and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well maybe you can start by telling us how you feel, and we can try to help you unravel all of this.”

“We?”

You both ignore Zoro’s confusion and indignation. “Maybe…if you think it will help.” You close your eyes, grounding yourself, and focusing wholly inward. “I just think I’m…tired of wanting things I can’t have. It’s really hard to be on a ship full of people living their dreams, fighting for everything they desire, and I’m here, feeling like I have to constantly hold so tight I feel like my fingers will break or else it’ll all slip through my fingers.”

“And do you feel like you’re holding onto Sanji?”

“Not just him, I guess. To everything. To all of you. But I’m trying to let myself believe that all of this is what I want, and that it’s going to be forever, and then I see him smile at someone else and the illusion just…shatters. I’m not happy. And I know damn well it won’t last forever. I feel like I’m stuck waiting for an inevitable ending that I’ll never be satisfied with. Right now, I’m in limbo, and I can keep pretending that it doesn’t hurt, but every time I think about how hopeless I feel with him it kind of reminds me of how hopeless it all is.”

You put your head in your hands for a moment, taking a deep breath. “And it’s not only about him, right? It’s just kind of a general dissatisfaction with where I am compared to you guys. But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t more about Sanji than it isn’t. He’s both, like, a symbol of it and the source of it. He’s the thing I want most, and he’s the thing I know I’m never going to have.”

“Why do you think you’ll never have him?”

“Because he’s in love with Nami.” You say it like it’s obvious.

Zoro is glaring at his drink, still wondering how he got roped into this conversation and praying you stop, while Robin gives you a gentle look resembling sympathy. There's something behind her eyes though, something you can't read, that makes you feel a bit uneasy.

"It's one thing, to have your love unrequited. For the man you're in love with to be hopelessly smitten with someone else. But god, it's another for him to be right."

"Right?" Robin's voice doesn't betray anything as she keeps her tone to a careful academic neutrality.

"It's just...she is that wonderful. I can't be upset about it because I can't blame either of them. She's beautiful and kind and capable and he's...well. He's everything. It just makes sense. It's somehow harder not to be bitter because I really don't have anything to be bitter about, if that makes sense."

"It would make sense if anything you said was true." Zoro's voice is gruff,  and you look to him in surprise, only to find his expression mirroring your own, as though he can't believe he opened his mouth. "He sucks, and she's great and all but she's no angel. And they aren't in love anyway so I don't understand what the problem even is." You think he's trying to help. Sweet, if ineffective.

"He's in love with her. He has been since the day they met. You know that, you were there."

"That isn't love. He's just a horny idiot."

"He's not an idiot." You hate how defensive your tone gets, how pathetic it makes you feel. You hate even more that Zoro and Robin both look at you with undisguised pity.

"I think what Zoro is trying to say is that you seem to think his feelings for Nami go a lot deeper than they do. They're just friends. He just speaks to all women like that."

"Not me."

You all hate the silence that follows.

"He hits on you too." Zoro's voice is a little weaker than before, knowing his argument isn't exactly rock solid. He's kind to you, complimentary, but he's never rushed into battle alone to save you. He's never ridden in on a blazing white steed for you, not like he has Robin or Nami. And sure, you've never been kidnapped like them, but it's hard not to feel the difference when Mr Prince himself has never played his part with you. He's kind to you, so very kind, but he's kind to everyone. That's just who he is.

“You know it isn’t the same, Zoro. It’s always Nami first. It always has been. He talks to me the same way he would any woman. Less than that, even.” You start tearing up despite yourself, and you hope your friends will blame your fragility on your drink and not your tender heart. “He just…he doesn’t look at me like that. He doesn’t fall at my feet, and it’s not like I want him to but…” You break into a quiet sob, and Robin’s hand comes to your shoulder, rubbing calming circles there.

Zoro leans in a bit, clearly a little uncomfortable but worried and kind nonetheless. “That stupid cook cares about you a lot more than any stranger on the street, and I think you know that. He’s just an idiot.” You look up at him, confused, and Zoro tries not to let out an annoyed sigh at your obliviousness. It isn’t entirely your fault. Who could blame you for thinking what you did? It’s not like Sanji helped with that. He didn’t give you the dramatic love confessions he did Nami or Robin. Nami had asked him once why he sang your praises differently than he did theirs, and he had insisted that he would give you only the grandest speeches, once he had prepared words worthy of you. The rest of the crew quickly figured out what he really meant: he was too nervous to say such a thing when he really meant it.  He would instead tuck his love into the food and drinks he served you, into the jacket he placed over your shoulders when you were cold, into the gentle smiles he gave you when you weren’t looking. Everyone had agreed not to push him before he was ready, to let you both find your way to each other naturally, but it was becoming apparent this was the wrong move.

You keep crying into your glass, and Zoro sighs. You’re both ridiculous. What a pair.

Across the bar, Usopp lets out his fiftieth sigh of the night. He has no idea how he got roped into this. Sanji is somewhere between sorrow and rage, buried in a pile of empty glasses that reek of beer. He's been going on for at least fifteen minutes now, and if Usopp had even slightly less of a conscience he'd leave him here to wallow, considering his problem is entirely self-inflicted. But unfortunately, Usopp is a great friend, so instead he bravely sits on this barstool, a listening ear to make sure Sanji's drowning his troubles doesn't end in Sanji himself drowning after he stumbles his way home alone.

"It's not right." Sanji's voice is shaky with emotion, even with his words slurred.

Usopp sighs, pretending he hasn't heard this exact line of conversation three times tonight. "What's not right, buddy?"

"He doesn't...he doesn't deserve her. He isn't good enough for her. That stupid swordsman...what does she see in him?" He takes another swig of his drink, letting out a deep sigh and dropping his shoulders. "He's just...he's not even nice to her. Not like he should be."

"He's being nice to her right now." Usopp motions over to where you're having your own pity party, one Zoro seems to have become an unwilling guest of. Robin is patting your shoulder in sympathy, while Zoro leans closer to say something to you, care and concern obvious on his face to those who knew him.

"But he should worship her. Everyone should. She's...she's..." Sanji drunkenly trails off.

"An angel?"

"A goddess." Despite the glaze over his eyes, his conviction shines though, granting him a focus he hasn't had all night as he gazes at her. "Someone to be cherished, protected, adored. He doesn't adore her. He should be on his knees right now begging for her attention, and he's just...talking to her. Like he would anybody."

"Probably because they're friends."

"But look at her. She clearly wants more than that. She should get whatever she wants. On a silver platter." Sanji really emphasizes that last part, lips pouting and brow tightening. Usopp looks over again to see you about to cry into your drink, leaning further into Robin. You aren't even looking at Zoro right now, but Sanji is still burning with envy. Usopp would love to set him straight, tell him that anyone with eyes could see who's attention you really wanted, but he knows you'd kill him, and he quite likes being alive. Sanji's so filled with malice and self loathing right now that he probably wouldn't even believe him, anyway. For a man so delusional about love, he somehow can’t see it when it’s right in front of him.

“I think you’re a little lost here, Sanji. She’s not in love with Zoro. She’s just drunk and sad. Reminds me of someone else I know.” He keeps that last part under his breath, and Sanji is drunk enough not to have heard it. Instead he frowns, taking another swig of his drink before trying to stand and falling directly into the counter. Your head pops up across the room, eyes wide and concerned, ready to leap to Sanji’s rescue. It’s amazing how blind that man must be to not see how obsessed with him you are. Usopp waves you off before hooking his hands under Sanji’s armpits and hauling him up. “Time to go, loverboy. You’ve had enough.”

“But she needs me!” Sanji struggles, but he’s so drunk he can’t properly utilize his strength. Lucky, or he’d already be halfway across the room to make an ass of himself. Usopp notices a small trickle of blood on his forehead from where he made contact with the bar.

“She’s fine, I promise. But you need to take a trip to see Chopper.”

“I need to help her! I can’t leave a lady in distress!”

“The lady will be in a lot more distress if she sees you’re hurt, Sanji! So get moving!” Usopp starts dragging him unceremoniously from the tavern, praying Franky will still be awake when he gets back to the ship to help him maneuver Sanji into his cot. Sanji passes out about halfway back to the Sunny, mercifully. Usopp hopes Robin and Zoro are having a better time with their other drunken crewmate.

You wake up with a pounding headache and the worst case of dry-mouth you’ve ever experienced. Your eyes just barely crack open, letting in a blinding ray of light, and you let out a small groan of pain. There’s a large glass of water by your bedside and some pills, as well as a small note from Chopper telling you to meet him in the infirmary once you feel up to walking. You chug the water and take your medicine gladly, touched by the sweet gesture. Your crew takes such good care of you.

It takes a while for the medicine to kick in enough for the light to stop hurting, but eventually you’re able to stand. You can’t remember the latter half of last night, your last memory being Sanji slamming his head into the counter while Robin and Zoro held you back from running to him. Zoro had supplied you with another drink then, and Robin had asked you more probing questions, but you could not for the life of you remember any other specifics. You make your way to Chopper’s infirmary so lost in thought you didn’t notice the mischievous looks in the eyes of your crewmates, the way their gazes subtly followed you as you walked.

“Chopper?” Your voice is still a little hoarse from having cried your heart out last night. You slip through the door, expecting to find your dear doctor ready to fuss over you and scold you for overdoing it last night. Instead you find Sanji face first in a bed, a small bandage wrapped around his head. Before you can ask if he’s alright, or if he knows where Chopper is, you hear it.

Click.

Your eyes widen. Your hand reaches for the doorknob, ready to turn it, and you find it doesn’t budge.

“What the fuck?”

Sanji groans again, slowly and carefully sitting up, before looking over at you. “What are you doing here, darling?” He looks at your hand, up at your expression, then back down to the doorknob. “Why…why is the doorknob backwards?”

Instead of the lock being where it should be, you find the keyhole on the inside of the door. There’s slight scratches around the nails holding it and place, and you realize someone has turned it around. There’s a quiet murmur of voices on the other side of the door, which turns to a yelp when you punch the wood. “What the hell is this?”

“We’re helping!” Nami’s voice rings out confidently from the other side, and you hear a few noises of agreement.

“With what, exactly?” You have a horrible sinking feeling you know exactly what they’re going to say, but you try to push it out of your mind, channeling the relentless optimism of your captain.

“We’re tired of you two being idiots!” Zoro’s voice is annoyed and unfriendly, but after a moment it slightly softens. “Just…talk to each other. Like people. For once in your lives.”

You don’t know why, but something about that makes Sanji’s brow twitch in annoyance. “Let us out, mosshead! I knew you were awful but I can’t believe you’d trap a lady!”

“It wasn’t my goddamn idea! Blame Nami!”

Sanji pauses in his yelling at that, but shockingly enough, he still seems upset instead of instantly kowtowing. He frowns, forehead wrinkling, but doesn’t say anything else.

“We aren’t letting you out until you’ve talked. We’re gonna go so you have privacy, but if you break out we’re putting you right back in, so don’t even think about just kicking down the door!” Nami’s voice is firm and commanding, and you find your shoulders slumping, knowing there’s no real point in fighting her. You’re both hungover, exhausted, and not in any state to continue the conflict. You sigh, making your way to a cot next to Sanji’s. You throw yourself down, the slight bounce you make on landing making you far more nauseous than it had any right to.

“Do you know what they want us to talk about?” Sanji sounds almost nervous, which surprises you. Does he know?

“I…have an idea. Do you?”

“I might.”

You both shift awkwardly in the silence that follows. You fidget with your hands, curling in tighter, anxiety eating at you. This is it. This is the rejection you’ve been waiting for. The final blow to shatter your fragile hopes, to crush your remaining optimism and the wonderful future you’ve allowed yourself to keep dreaming of.

“What do you see in him?” Sanji’s voice is quiet and seeping with vulnerability. His eyes are closed, as though he’s scared to even look at you and get your answer.

“What do I see in who?”

“In that stupid swordsman. Why do you care about him?”

“What?” You blink owlishly.

He finally looks up at you. He blinks back. “What do you mean, what?”

“Why are you talking to me like I’m dating Zoro?”

“Are you…not? Trying to do that?”

“No! God no! I’m–” You barely hold yourself back from saying trying to date you. “I’m not into Zoro like that. Did you think I was?”

“I–um. No?” His dour look turns sheepish, a small bit of red painting his cheeks. Adorable.

“God, Sanji. Zoro is not my type.” You both sit for a moment, before you realize something. “Were you upset because you thought I was into him?”

“He isn’t good enough for you.” He says it so matter-of-fact, like it’s an obvious truth. “No one is, but especially not him. You deserve the best, and nothing less.”

Your heart flutters a little, that little thing with feathers worming its way back into you, but you suddenly see Nami’s face in your mind and you crush it. To dream and watch it die is far worse than never dreaming at all. “That’s sweet, Sanji. But you shouldn’t say things like that. You might give someone the wrong idea.”

His head cocks to the side. “What do you mean, wrong idea? You do deserve the best. No one in the world deserves it more than you.”

“What about Nami?”

“What about Nami?”

“Does she not deserve the best? More than I do? More than anyone? Your sweet Nami-swan?” You fail to keep the bitterness out of your tone in that. Not bitterness towards her, of course, or even towards Sanji, really, just a sour taste in your mouth you can’t quite shake.

His brow furrows, lips downturned. “Well she deserves the best too, of course, but why would she deserve it more? Why wouldn’t you deserve everything you want?”

You let out a frustrated growl. “That’s what I want to know! Why not me?” You slam your hand over your mouth. God, he knows, and now he’s going to reject you, so sweetly and kindly, like he does everything, and it’s going to shatter you into a million pieces. You squeeze your eyes shut like blocking out the sight of him will undo what you’ve just done.

You don’t hear him reject you. You don’t even hear him move. You only feel warm hands on your cheeks, and you open your eyes to see Sanji right in front of you, nose to nose, and you can see reflected in his eyes something you might dare to call hope.

“Do you want it to be you?” You hear a longing in his words, see it in his eyes. You have never known Sanji as a man to want, to desire more than what he’s freely given, but in this moment it truly almost seems like he wants you.

You slowly take your hand off of your mouth. Your voice is meek, mouselike, but you force it out anyway. “Would that be okay? If I did?”

“Oh angel, it would be more than okay.” He slides impossibly closer, thighs on either side of yours, torsos pressed together, surrounding you wholly. “It is you. It has always been you. It will always be you. Is that okay?”

You want to answer him in words, something articulate that would move his heart, but instead you let out a soft squeak of surprise before grabbing his cheeks and pulling his lips to yours. They’re chapped, the dehydration from the hangover still plaguing him. He has morning breath. His movements are uncoordinated, unsteady. His goatee scratches your chin. When he opens his mouth, welcoming you further, he tastes like cigarettes and a hint of shitty beer. 

It’s the best kiss you’ve ever had.

You end up on your back, Sanji’s weight holding you down, comforting and all-consuming. His hands rest on your hips as yours tangle in his hair. You only pull back when the demand for air is too much, and even then you consider ignoring the scream of your lungs. You both pull back, chests heaving, and Sanji buries his face in your neck.

“I never thought I’d actually get to do this.” He buries his nose further into your neck, his arms sliding underneath you to pull you into a tight embrace.

“Neither did I. I kept telling myself to stop dreaming about things I couldn’t have.”

“You’ve had me from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“You’ve had me for just as long.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

You take a strained breath. “I was…I don’t deserve you. And I thought you knew that. And that you were in love with Nami. That didn’t help.”

He pulls back to look you in the eyes, his gaze boring into you. “You thought you didn’t deserve me?” He sounds absolutely baffled at the idea.

“You’re kind, talented, strong, handsome…you’re everything, Sanji. You deserve everything you want. And I didn’t think you wanted me.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before a small chuckle forces its way out of him. “That’s…that’s so ridiculous I genuinely don’t even know where to start.”

He kisses your forehead. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and everything I’m ever going to want.”

He kisses your cheeks. “I have wanted you from the moment we met, and I will want you until the day I die.”

He kisses the tip of your nose. “I have never met anyone more deserving of the world than you. And I’m not going to let anyone say otherwise. Even you. So there.”

You lean up to kiss his forehead in turn. “Well there’s nothing in this world I want more than you. Can I really have you?”

He takes one of your hands and places it over his rapidly beating heart. “You feel that? It’s all yours.” He lifts your other hand and kisses it in a deeply princely gesture that fits him perfectly.

Before you can reciprocate, the door slams open, and you hear Zoro’s disgruntled voice call out. “They’re making out! Can we be done with this now?”

Sanji whips around with even more vitriol than he usually reserves for the swordsman. “Piss off, mosshead. Can’t you see we’re busy?” The quick movement makes him sway slightly, and you’re forced to remember how horribly you’re both doing physically. If he picks a fight with Zoro right now he might end up puking all over his shoes.

“Ignore him, Sanji. We need to get some rest anyway.” You pull his face into your chest, which he gladly collapses fully into. When you run your fingers through his hair, he’s practically purring.

“Anything you say, my love.” His content smile grows wider when he hears your heart quicken at the words. Neither of you say anything else as your friends crowd the room, with their finallys and about times. Nothing in the world matters more than this right now: the feeling of each other’s warmth, the softness of each other’s skin, and the feeling of relief in both of your chests that your hopes were finally allowed to thrive.

[bytemee]

chapter eleven. | WHERE DO YOU SLEEP? — YU JIMIN.

𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 — y/n, a rising music producer, has built her dream career while keeping her personal life under wraps. karina, aespa’s leader, is preparing for a huge comeback with a mini album produced and written by the one and only y/n.

karina knows this is the opportunity of a lifetime, and she has to nail it. the only problem is, she may be a bit distracted by her producer.

something about their connection feels different—like maybe it's worth the risk of prying eyes. but how much will they give up to chase after what they want?

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — angst angst angst. y/n is still a meanie, but again she's tired. vv sad, lock in so its not cringey.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 — 3.7k

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲— gulps. also read all the extra content chaps..i worked hard on it haha...ha

taglist (open) — @sunshinez4 @gtfoiydlyj @yuyuy90 @liaponderstings @rinapomu @bimkayd @minaripenguu

series masterlist. main masterlist. prev. next. extra content (the album). extra content 2. extra content 3.

you storm into her room, the door clicking shut behind you with a force that makes karina flinch. she stands there, her eyes wide, already bracing for the storm you’re about to unleash.

"you can't keep doing this, karina," you say, your tone sharp. "you can't keep putting our relationship second."

karina frowns. "i'm not. i didn't mean to stand you up. i was exhausted after filming, and i fell asleep. i was going to text you, but—"

"it's always an excuse," you cut in. "and i'm sick of it."

“it’s not an excuse, y/n. it’s my job. you knew this from the start.”

"that's bullshit," you snap. "we both know i'm more than that. you've been saying it since day one. that we'd make it work no matter what. that nothing would get in the way of us." your voice breaks, but you don't care. you need to get this out. "but where are you now? not here."

"i'm trying my best," she says, her tone softening. "we're both trying our best."

you shake your head. "no, you're not. and you're never going to be if you keep making excuses like this."

karina looks away, biting her lip.

"you want me to stop?" she asks, turning back to you, her gaze hard. "then don't expect me to change. if you want me to put you first, then accept that i can't do that. not right now." her eyes are bright with unshed tears. "i'm sorry for standing you up, y/n. i am. but please don't act like this is some big revelation. we both knew what we were getting into when we started dating."

because she’s right. you did know. you knew that loving her meant loving a girl who belonged to the world before she ever belonged to you. you knew that there would always be moments like this, where she’d choose the stage, the cameras, and the career over late-night talks and weekend dates. over you.

it was one thing to acknowledge it in the abstract, to brush off the loneliness as something to be expected when your girlfriend was an idol. but it was another thing to live it. to actually feel the weight of her absence, time and time again. it hurt like hell, but you pushed through because you loved her. because she was worth it.

because you understood that her passion, her dedication, was part of what made her so special. so beautiful. so breathtakingly real. and if you had to deal with a little heartbreak along the way, so be it. it was a small price to pay for loving someone who could make the world fall in love with her, too.

but tonight? tonight, it feels too damn big to ignore. too damn big to swallow down, too pretentious to pretend it is okay.

so you don't.

you let out a hollow laugh, running a hand through your hair as frustration claws at your ribs. "right," you mutter. "because it's just that simple, huh?"

she exhales, "it’s not simple. but it is the truth."

you hate how calm she sounds. how reasonable. like she’s already decided that this is just the way things have to be. this isn’t karina. not the karina who swore up and down that you’d figure things out together. that you could weather any storm.

not the karina who used to steal moments between rehearsals just to send you voice notes, laughing about how the universe couldn’t keep you apart even if it tried. not the karina who always found the silver lining, who promised, over and over again, that you were worth the effort.

where did that girl go?

where did the karina who believed in you—who believed in this—go?

"you talk about the truth like i don’t already know it," you bite out. "like i haven’t spent months rearranging my schedule, turning down opportunities, flying across the world just to spend stolen moments with you between rehearsals and shoots. like i haven’t put in the effort."

karina flinches, but you can't bring yourself to care. you're tired of being the only one who gives a shit. tired of feeling like you're the only one fighting for this relationship. for her.

"you talk about the truth like you haven't missed my birthday," you say, your voice shaking. "like you haven't missed every single important day of my life. i’ve been patient. i’ve let you cancel, reschedule, and disappear on me over and over again because i fucking love you, jimin. but it’s never enough, is it?"

she takes a step towards you, reaching out, but you pull away. "don’t touch me," you spit out.

the hurt flashes across her face, but you can't bring yourself to feel sorry. she looks so small, so defeated. it makes your heart ache, but the anger is still there, simmering just beneath the surface. "i work just as hard as you do, karina. i have a career too. i have a life that demands just as much from me as yours does from you. but i still show up. i still choose you, every time. so why the fuck does it feel like i'm the only one doing that?"

she takes a step back, her breath shuddering. "i never asked you to do that," she says quietly.

and that—those six little words—somehow hurt more than anything else.

your stomach twists, your throat tightening. "you never asked me to," you repeat, voice hollow. "so what? that means it doesn’t matter? that it doesn’t count?"

she shakes her head, arms wrapping around herself like she’s trying to keep herself together.

…

"i think we should break up."

the words hit you like a slap to the face. they ring in your ears, echoing over and over again, each time louder than the last. you can't believe she's saying them. can't believe she's giving up so easily. on you. on this. after everything you've been through, all the times you've fought to stay together, to make this work—this is how it ends?

you don't know how all the moments have led you here.

the late-night conversations, the quiet laughter shared over stolen meals, the lingering glances, the gentle touches. every kiss, every smile, every broken promise—it all piles up in the space between you now. moments that made you feel alive. moments that tore you apart. they live in your bones, and no matter how hard you try, you can't escape them.

karina stands in front of you. the girl who captured your heart in ways no one else ever could. she's beautiful, even now, with tears streaking her cheeks and her lip trembling. she looks at you like you're everything she's ever wanted, everything she's ever needed.

you don't feel like enough anymore, though.

you hate yourself for the way you spoke to her. you hate that you let your anger win. but more than anything, you hate that she's not fighting for you. that she's giving up so easily. that she can be so content without having you in her life.

even so, that small part in your heart wants to be torn apart over and over. because the truth is, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how badly she breaks you, it's still her. it's always been her.

standing face to face, hearts breaking, knowing that the circumstances won't change. knowing that the world won't actually hold its breath for you. that no matter how much you want it to, no matter how much you want the fairytale, there won't be a happy ending.

"y/n…" karina's voice cracks on your name. it's not the confident, composed tone she uses on stage or in interviews. this is the voice of jimin, the girl you fell for. the girl who gave you soft pieces of herself behind closed doors. the girl who trusted you with her vulnerability.

and just like that, the last piece of your heart shatters into dust.

"yeah," you say, voice hollow. "me too."

karina's mind races through the past few months. all the promises she made—promises that were broken by schedules, missed calls, and the suffocating pressure of her career. she thought she could balance it all. she thought loving you was enough. because she loves you. she loves you so much it hurts. and she can see it in your eyes, in the way you look at her—that you love her too, but it's clouded by exhaustion. by resentment. by the pain that neither of you could fix.

it was never going to work. she thinks.

karina's chest feels like it's caving in. every beat of her heart feels heavier for thinking such a thing. she clenches her fists by her sides, nails biting into her palms. she closes her eyes, willing herself to breathe. to stop the tears that are threatening to fall. to hold it together just a little longer. when she opens them again, you're still standing there. your expression is a mix of emotions, but there's one that stands out the most. regret. karina knows it well. she's seen it in the mirror countless times over the past few weeks.

the two of you stand there for what feels like an eternity. neither of you knows what to say. what to do. the moment stretches on until karina can't take it anymore. she moves closer, closing the distance between you. her arms wrap around you, pulling you into a hug. her body is warm against yours, her skin soft, and you let yourself sink into it. you wrap your arms around her waist, resting your head on her shoulder.

karina buries her face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. your scent fills her senses, making her feel like she's drowning in you. you squeeze her tighter, and she can feel your pulse racing under her fingertips.

"i'm sorry," she whispers again. "i tried, y/n. i tried so hard to give you what you deserved, but i kept falling short. i kept hurting you."

her tears fall faster, leaving wet tracks down your neck. you don't say anything, just hold her tighter. you can't speak. you don't trust your voice not to betray you. so you keep quiet, letting her words wash over you. letting them seep into your skin and soak into your bones. "and every time i hurt you, i hated myself for it. you deserve someone who doesn't make you feel like you're not enough. someone who can give you more than i ever could."

you shake your head. "i didn't want more, jimin. i wanted you. i just wanted you."

she pulls back slightly, looking at you with watery eyes. "don't…i don't want us to hate each other. i don't want us to become a memory we can't stand."

"jimin—" you try, but she cuts you off.

"i love you," she says. "i love you, and you know i don't want to say goodbye. but if we keep holding on like this, we'll lose what we had—the good parts. i can't do that. i'd rather let you go while we still love each other."

you blink back tears, forcing yourself to swallow the lump in your throat. "i know. i know you're right."

karina pulls back even further, her arms falling to her sides. she takes a deep breath, steadying herself. her eyes are red and swollen from crying, and you can tell she's trying to keep it together. to be strong for you. but the sight of her like this, so broken and sad, is more than you can bear. you reach out and take her hand in yours, lacing your fingers together.

"i'm sorry, too," you say softly, squeezing her hand gently. "i'm sorry for not being more patient. for letting my frustrations get the better of me. for making you feel like you weren't enough."

karina shakes her head. "don't apologize. it's not your fault. we're both tired, y/n."

the truth is, you know she's right. you've been fighting a losing battle for far too long now. it was only a matter of time before the two of you reached this point. and while it hurts, and you wish things were different, you know that this is what's best for both of you.

because sometimes, loving someone means knowing when to let them go.

the sound of the doorbell echoes softly through the quiet house. your grandmother, cane in hand, makes her way to the door with slow, measured steps. when she opens it, karina stands on the front step, her breath visible in the cold winter air.

the older woman's eyes widen slightly, and she smiles, her features softening. despite the time that's passed, she recognizes the young woman instantly. "jimin, it's nice to see you. please, come inside."

karina gives a short bow. "i hope i'm not intruding," she says as her eyes glance down at the cane that wasn't present the last time they met. "i just… wanted to check on you."

your grandma gives her a warm smile. "of course not. "come in, child. it's too cold to stay out there." karina hesitates for only a moment before stepping inside. she shrugs off her coat, hanging it on the hook by the door, and toes off her shoes, placing them neatly next to the others. your grandmother watches, her expression unreadable.

"i brought some soup," karina says, holding up a plastic bag. "it's nothing fancy, but i thought it might be nice."

your grandma nods, taking the bag. "thank you, dear. it smells wonderful. come, sit. would you like something to drink?"

they move to the living room, the quiet hum of the heater creating a comforting background noise. karina sits on the edge of the couch, hands folded neatly in her lap, trying to suppress the nervous energy that's bubbling up.

your grandmother returns from the kitchen, carrying two cups of steaming green tea and a small tray with the soup. karina's eyes immediately catch the way the older woman favors her right leg, moving slower than before.

"let me help," karina says quickly, standing up and walking over.

your grandmother raises a brow but doesn't resist. "if you insist."

karina carefully takes the tray from her hands and carries it to the low table in the living room. the older woman follows with her cane and lowers herself into her chair. karina returns to her seat and passes her a cup of green tea.

"thank you, jimin," she says with a warm smile.

they eat quietly at first. the silence is heavy, and karina can't help but wonder if your grandma's upset with her. if she knows what happened. after a few minutes, the older woman speaks, breaking the tension.

"it's been busy for you lately, hasn't it?" your grandmother asks after a few minutes.

karina nods. "yes, our group dropped a mini album about a month ago. promotions just wrapped up last week."

"and now?"

"we're leaving for japan in four days," karina explains. "we'll be performing at the mamas. it's… a lot."

the older woman nods thoughtfully, setting her empty bowl on the tray. "that must be exciting."

"it is," karina agrees.

but even as she says the words, the excitement feels distant. like she's detached from it somehow.

it's been two months.

two months since everything fell apart.

since she broke both your hearts.

since the last time she saw you.

since the day she said goodbye.

and yet, she can't seem to escape you.

to make things worse, your relationship, which had been private and precious because the two of you worked hard to keep it that way, ended up leaking online. rumors swirled and speculations abounded. she had hoped that the story would die down, but it only seems to be growing in size and scope.

one photo. or two careless, grainy photos posted online, and suddenly the world knew.

the photo was from that night in la—the night that had been her idea. she still remembers it vividly. the two of you sitting across from each other in fine dining, the candlelight flickering, casting shadows on the walls before moving towards the bar, laughing like the world couldn't touch either of you. kissing like it was the first time. like it would be the last.

she just wanted a night to escape the cameras, the questions, the rumors. she wanted a night for just the two of you.

but one stupid photo, and now her worst fear has come true.

it's only been a few days since the news broke, but the damage is already done.

the press is having a field day, the company has released an official statement, distancing themselves from the scandal. fans are divided. some support the relationship, some are furious, and some don't care. it's a mess, and she's been trying her best to avoid the chaos. to avoid listening to your album. she had told herself she would when she was ready, but deep down, she was afraid of what she would find.

but the rest of the world? they had already done the work for her.

they picked apart every lyric, every melody. they connected the dots, drawing conclusions that she hadn’t even allowed herself to consider.

she can't escape it completely, though. even now, as she sits here with your grandmother, the question remains.

what's your reaction?

where are you now?

her eyes sting, and she blinks back the tears that are forming. she won't cry. not here. not in front of the woman who helped raise the love of her life.

your grandmother, perhaps sensing the younger girl's distress, clears her throat.

"do you remember when y/n first brought you here?" she asks, changing the subject.

"of course," karina says, smiling fondly. "i was so nervous that i would make the wrong impression."

your grandma laughs, stirring her tea. "you know, you're the only person i've ever seen her bring home. you should've heard the tone of her voice when she called and told me she was bringing you over for dinner. it was like the sun came out from behind the clouds. i had to make sure i had everything perfect."

karina ducks her head, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

"i had no idea what was going on at first," the older woman continues. "i thought maybe the two of you were dating, but then y/n corrected me. she said you were just friends. close friends."

"that's right," karina says quietly.

"for a while, i believed her," the older woman admits. "until when i caught her staring at you. it was the kind of look people have when they're in love. but you know, i didn't say anything. i wanted her to figure it out on her own."

karina's fingers tighten around the cup in her hands, and she fights to keep her voice steady. "i'm sorry."

your grandmother's gaze is gentle, understanding. "for what, child? for falling in love? that's not something to apologize for. love isn't a choice, you know."

karina lets out a shaky breath, blinking back tears. "i just… i didn't want to hurt her. i tried not to. but i did anyway."

the older woman sighs, placing a hand over karina's. "love isn't easy, jimin. especially when the world is watching."

karina swallows hard. she doesn't know what to say.

"but the love you shared? that was real." your grandmother pats her hand. "there's no reason to apologize for something that can't be changed. what matters is what you do with the feelings now. do you understand?"

karina nods, taking a deep breath. the older woman offers her a soft smile, and she manages to return it. they sit in silence for a moment, both lost in thought. then your grandmother breaks the quiet. "now, how about some dessert? i have some ice cream in the freezer."

karina laughs, shaking her head. "i don't think i could eat another bite."

"well, i will then," your grandmother says with a mischievous grin. while your grandma is off retrieving dessert, karina's eyes wander around the room, stopping at the hallway where your room is. the door is shut, but she knows it's still the same. still untouched, preserved like a museum—a time capsule of your childhood, but something more important. where you shared your first kiss.

she feels a rush of emotion, and before she can stop herself, she's standing up, making her way down the hall and into your room.

your room is just as she remembers it. the same bed, the same dresser, the same pictures on the wall. karina takes a deep breath, letting herself be surrounded by your presence. her eyes scan the walls, lingering on a photo tucked into the corner of the mirror—a polaroid of you and her in the studio. it was taken so long ago, during a rare moment when the two of you were alone together working on her solo.

karina reaches out, tracing her finger along the edge of the frame. the glass is cool to the touch, and she closes her eyes, feeling her heart clench.

"i miss you," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "i miss you so much."

her gaze shifts to the corner of the bed, where a pink flannel is draped lazily over the headboard. the sight of it stops her in her tracks. you'd worn it a couple of times, always mumbling about how soft it was. she wonders if it still smells like you. if it still carries a trace of your perfume.

she takes a step forward, picking up the garment and bringing it to her face.

it does. a wave of sadness crashes over her as the familiar scent hits her nostrils. she breathes it in, holding it close to her chest.

she can't believe she let you go.

karina turns quickly, the flannel still clutched in her hands. she hesitates for a moment, debating whether to put it back, but something inside her won't let her.

when she returns to the living room, your grandmother is sitting again, a small plate of red bean cakes on the table. she notices the flannel instantly, her gaze flickering from the fabric to karina's face.

"taking a souvenir?" your grandmother teases gently, though there's a deeper understanding in her eyes.

"i—" karina falters, searching for the right words. "it just… feels too soft to leave behind."

your grandmother doesn't say anything for a moment, but then she gives a small nod. "then take it."

karina blinks in surprise, holding the flannel closer. her fingers tighten around it, the fabric soft against her skin. your grandmother smiles softly, patting her knee. "now, sit back down. i still have a lot to say."

the two of them sit together, eating the sweet desserts and drinking the rest of their tea. when they finish, they talk more about your grandma's garden, the new recipes she's been trying, and the latest news on her favorite dramas. the conversation is light, and karina finds herself relaxing into the easy flow of words. she hasn't felt this comfortable with someone in a long time.

as karina stands to leave, she hesitates at the door, the flannel folded neatly in her arms.

"do you think…" she begins, but the rest of the question dies on her lips. she doesn't know how to ask if there's still a chance.

your grandmother gives her a knowing look. "you've both been hurt, jimin. but love doesn't just disappear."

karina swallows hard. "i don't want to let her go."

"then don't."

but what if you wanted to be let go?

series masterlist. main masterlist. prev. next. extra content (the album). extra content 2. extra content 3.

[readychilledwine]

hi, i’ve recently found your blog + wow, you’re writing is amazing! i have an idea for i would like to request, i hope that’s okay.

reader has just came home from book club w nesta, gwen and emerie at the house of wind. reader is mated to az - they’re been mated for about a few years. still reader has met nesta, reader almost always has her nose in a book - smutty book to be exact. reader is kinda embarrassed by this bc she wasn’t one to read smutty books before meeting nesta. az is starting to question why reader is always so invested in a book or why he has hardly seen reader for the last couple of weeks. az picks up the book reader is currently reading behind reader’s back & starts to get a little jealous maybe? az may confront reader about the book? i’m not to sure about the ending, but i do know az would do something like asking reader what their favorite scene & they could reenact it or something of that nature. i could totally see az teasing reader just a little bit as well.

i love for you to put your own spin on this. thank you 🩷🩷🩷

Book Boyfriend

Summary - Azriel has gotten a little tired of your reading habits.

Warnings - Az is a kind of a dick

A/n - I went the spicy mad Az route, and don't worry. Per Liz tradition, it's open for another part.

Azriel could have burned the damn book in your hands. You hadn't set it down in 3 days.

3 fucking days of you and Nesta curled into each other, drinking Rhysand's expensive wine, reading that stupid thick book.

He knew you loved to read. Books and book related gifts had been his go-to gifts for you since the mating bond snapped 100 years ago. But the obsession since Ness was made was unbearable.

He never had to fight for your attention until now. He felt a shoulder brush his. "Ah, they're in the "We don't want Cassian to know we're reading smut," pose."

Azriel froze, feeling down the bond and trying to get to your end. You had it locked down, but there was a soft blush on your and Nesta's cheeks. "How do you know its smut?"

Cassian sighed. "It's all they read, Azzy. Have you not noticed?"

His shadows darkened. You had hardly kissed or touched him in 3 days in favor of a smut novel? He could show you things, do things, most authors would only think of in their sick dreams.

He felt himself paling under Cassian's gaze. Was he not pleasing you anymore? Was he not performing to your expectations? You always seemed content, spent, and overjoyed when you two had sex.

"I need a fucking drink." Azriel stormed away. Slamming the door to your shared chambers shut. He took on look at the crystal whiskey decanter and decided to drink until you came to the room.

Azriel woke up to soft footsteps and the feeling of a blanket getting laid across him. He heard you sigh, falling into bed, then that faint creak of an unbroken in book spine opening.

Meaning you had a new book. A new smut novel to ignore him with. A new fake boyfriend to imagine between your thighs.

Azriel stood on shaking legs, and he went to bed. Watching as you snapped to book shut and set it on your nightstand title down. "Did I wake you?"

"Yup." He curled into the bed facing away from you. It was childish, but if you weren't happy, you could have just told him instead of replacing him.

When he woke up, raging headache and all, you were gone. But the book wasn't. He reached over and grabbed it, cracking the spine out of spite. 55 chapters in, and Azriel was bored. If he tried to fuck you on a table covered in paint, you'd glare at him about the mess. About getting paint 1000 places you shouldn't.

So why the hell were you reading a book about it?

It was late into the evening when you returned. Azriel had finished the book, marking specific things he wanted to confront you about. He didn't stand as the door opened, didn't greet you as you came in with a few bags. You were all smiles, dolled up in a pretty dress. Your hair was loosely curled, and makeup was done.

"Where the fuck have you been?" It came out as harsh as he expected it to. "I take a week off and you have hardly spent time with me."

He watched you jump, eyes going wide as you took a few steps back. "Nesta wanted to go into town. We lost track of time. I-"

"Lost track of time? Aren't you the female who taught Rhysand how to properly track the stars and sun?" He stalked toward you, book in hand. "Did you two go to find more vitriol like this?" He held it up, watching as your cheeks flushed and you went to reach for it.

"Azriel-"

He lifted it above his head. "You haven't touched me in weeks. You've kissed me maybe once. Hell, yesterday you were content to leave me on the damn couch. I can see why though, you're sitting here getting your needs met by some fictional fae lord instead of me. If you aren't happy anymore just tell me."

Shock hit your face slowly, mind whirling and emotions pouring into him from the bond. "Azriel, it's a book. Not another male."

That wasn't enough for him. "And how many times have you pleasured yourself to this book? Thinking about the main character between your thighs?"

You sighed. "To that one? Not a single time. I haven't gotten to read it and you already damaged the spine." The sadness in your voice made him pause, lowering the book until you could grab it.

You were always so gentle with your books, caring for them and placing them somewhere safe. Bookmarks never sat in them for too long out of fear of damage. He watched you stroke the spine, going to the bookshelf and placing it in the spot it would belong in to match your color based organization.

"Is this really about a book, or is something else going on?" You wouldn't look at him, wouldn't say his name. He could hear the soft tremble. "I'm sorry I made a friend. I'm sorry I've been spending time with Nesta instead of you. But she gets it. She gets how feeling like you don't belong in this family feels," a stab to his chest. "She gets how feeling out of place among you all feels," the stab turning into a gapping wound that had him leaning against the couch. "She gets what it's like to have a mate that is busy and expects you to be here waiting."

You had ripped his heart out. In 100 years, this had never come up. There had never been signs. "Y/n-"

He watched in silence as you held a hand up, moving to grab some clothes and a hair brush. "I'm going to sleep in a guest room tonight. This could have been turned into something beautiful, Az. We could have used these books to inspire fun in our bedroom," your hand ran along that damaged book. "Instead, you disrespected my belongings, accused me of an unthinkable act, and made this about your fragile ego."

You left the room, silence falling in the wake. Azriel stared at the book he had damaged. It was a first edition. A soft shade of blue with swirls of darkness. He walked to it, head hung in shame.

It was an escape. A way for you to cope with your feelings. No different than him training, and he had ruined it.

And now, he checked his calendar, he had 4 days to make it up to you before he, Cassian, and Nesta were gone for a month.

Leaving you alone all over again with nothing but an empty house and a book boyfriend.

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

💕 As always, comment or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist💕

[glamorizethechaos]

Sweet Surrender (Series) - Part 1

As seen on ao3

Summary: Claire Hawthorne begins her ER rotation at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital under attending Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch.

Dr. Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch & Original Female Character

Warnings: mention of sexual assault, fluff, (eventual) smut, alcohol, anxiety & ptsd

This work is a work in progress so I am not sure where this is eventually going to go. Any triggers warnings will be added as needed. If you feel a TW should be added, feel free to message me.

Part One: Trouble

Dr. Robby walked into the doors of the ER, the waiting room already full of patients; crying babies, the regulars looking for a warm bed or a quick fix, and the those who were sick but not quite sick enough to be of any urgency. He buzzed in and walked towards the nurses station, Dr. Abbott standing at his computer doing some last minute charting before he headed home. Dr Robby glanced up at the board that always seemed to be full beyond capacity. 

"Jesus Christ," Dr Robby grimaced looking at his day ahead "did the whole of Pittsburgh come in last night?"

"You tell me, we got a fucking asses kicked. Barely made a dent in the damn waiting room." Dr. Abbott put the last of his things in his bag. "At least I'm not the ones with the new med students today."

"That's today?" Dr Robby took of his glasses and rubbed his eyes. This was the last thing he needed today, not with the work load ahead of him, now he had to play babysitter. 

One by one, the med students filed there way into the ER. They seemed to be getting younger looking ever year as Dr. Robby grew another year older. Soon they introduced themselves: Dr. Melissa "Mel" King fresh out of the VA, Dr. Trinity Santos- intern, Dennis Whitaker- a fourth-year, Victoria Javadi- third year, and lastly Claire Hawthorne fourth year.

"I just finished my Peds and OB rotations." Claire spoke softly, and Dr Robby nodded in acknowledgement. Claire was curvy, yet petite, standing no taller than 5'2. Her hair was red and she had freckles that seemed placed on her face one by one, each with delicate precision. Her eyes were bright green and while looked tired, were also happy and full of life. Dr. Robby felt himself staring, but soon directed them for a tour of the ER. 

Soon the EMTs come in with a man on a stretcher and Dr. Robby instructs Claire to take the case, "45 year old man complaining of shortness of breath, chest pains, and is diaphoretic." With the help of the EMTs, Robby and Claire brought the man back into a room and Claire took a history. 

"What do you suggest we do Dr. Hawthorne?"

"Order an EKG and check his troponin. Could be an MI?" but before Claire could finish taking the mans vitals, he loses consciousness. She checks for a pulse and feels nothing, before Dr Robby knew it, she immediately jumped on the stretcher and began administering chest compressions. After multiple shocks of the patient, three rounds of epi, and 45 minutes of compressions they were unsuccessful at reviving the patient. 

"Time of death...9... 9" Claires voice cracked as she tried keeping herself composed. She had never lost a patient. 

"Time of death, 9:28" Dr. Robby announces, looking at Claire from across the room. She left quickly, removing her gloves and tossing them in the trashcan outside the room. He followed, 

"Hey, wait up," he jogged quickly, grabbing her arm. "You alright?" he asked, knowing what it felt like lose his first patient. Something that never really seemed to get easier. 

"Yeah, I just need a glass of water." a tear fell down her cheek and she swiftly wiped it away. She didnt want to seem weak on her first day. Dr. Robby told her to take a few minutes to gather herself before seeing her next patient. Soon it was lunch, Claire stood in line in the cafeteria for a cup of coffee, she felt too sick to eat. The feeling of the mans ribs snapping at each compression, knowing that mans kids would never see their father alive again, it all made her lose her appetite. 

"How you holding up?" she heard a voice from behind her. She turned to find Dr. Robby standing with his hands in his pockets, looking at her apologetically. She smiled softly and nodded, she didn't exactly want to talk about it, and he took the hint. When it was her turn in line, Dr Robby stepped forward and swiped his card before she could pay. 

"Dr. Robby, you didn't have to do that! I could have paid!" she said in protest.

"I was a med student once, trust me, you don't have the money." he joked, well- partially. She thanked him and the two walked down the hallway back towards the ER. 

"God I'm exhausted. I barely slept last night" Claire groaned, rubbing her eyes. She took a sip of the coffee, it was typical hospital coffee- horrible, and she tried not to make a face. 

"Oh yeah? Nerves get to you?"

"That... and well... my roommate was up all night fucking her boyfriend. We have thin walls." 

"Well at least it sounds like your roommate had a good night." he chuckled. 

"That makes one of us." she rolled her eyes. The two talked as they walked down the hallway. He was born and raised in Pittsburgh, she was from a small seaside town in New Jersey. She fell in love with the city while visiting her family while she was a kid. She felt this city was home. Undergrad was spent at the University of Pittsburgh and was now there for med school as well. She lived in Shadyside with her roommates, 4 girls in a 3 bedroom apartment. It wasn't exactly ideal, but it was what they could afford. 

The rest of the shift was exciting, Dr Robby talked her through her first intubation, a woman came in labor; having just finished her OB rotation- Dr Robby learned a thing or two from Claire. She ended her shift with a vomiting toddler. 

"That kid was tough. I don’t think I’d have the patience for that. Kids always scare me." Dr. Robby said leaning over the counter as Claire charted. 

"Kids? You're the senior attending and you're scared of kids?" 

"Kids, toddlers… I don’t know how to interact with them. I have an awkward, stoic personality and the whole crying and vomiting thing makes me uncomfortable…you're good with kids though..."

"I don’t find you awkward, just…" she hesitated a bite, "well I like kids."

"Go on, finish the thought" 

"Just a bit, uptight." she shrugged nervously. 

He chuckled and shook his head. He removed his glasses and looked at her with a raised brow. She was gonna be trouble.

[nullmaidens]

WIP: drink your fill

18+ || ezekyle abaddon x reader || step-mother/son fauxcest. pre-heresy, set-up to adultery, guilty masturbation (kinda), pregnancy as body horror.

THIS IS A WIP!! the final product will have explicit content and abaddon with lactophilia. please bear this in mind!!

he’s a boob guy who wants to be his mother’s favourite just as much as he wants to be his father’s, and i can see him getting rather jealous of a new arrival that takes up too much of her time for his liking.

Hell exists, and the Imperial Truth should be damned to it. Hell exists, and Ezekyle knows, because he’s been enduring it for months.

It comes to the Vengeful Spirit after a long gestation, growing in a dark, dank place, left alone too long to get rid of. It buries its way inside, making itself a home out of nothing, siphoning their hard-won supplies without permission and, to add insult to injury, without reproach. They’d reinforced the ship against it — a new door here, an insulated wall there, increasingly strict safety protocols, and locks. More locks than he had ever seen, one on every compartment, every cupboard, even in the most distant recesses of the menial decks, as if the Warmaster was expecting a break-in.

What he was really readying them for, however, was the breakout.

The Legion Mother had screamed for hours, and he thought could hear it clearly despite your being in the infirmary and himself being locked away in the training cages. It was haunting, and Ezekyle wanted nothing to do with it. He could almost feel the heavy thuds of the Warmaster’s footsteps pacing up and down the corridor outside the room you’d been placed in, nearly hear Tarik’s lighthearted voice try to comfort him, or Luc’s stern assertions try to ease his mind. She’ll be fine, he’d say, she is strong. It’s why you chose her, and it’s why we love her.

The cages were empty when he arrived, everyone else preoccupied, duties cut short and shifts left unfinished when the news had broken that you had finally gone under the knife. His knuckles are bloody from being beaten against battle servitors, six— no, seven— of them in pieces at his feet. Huge, hulking, once-human things torn apart, split at the seams, their bodies broken almost beyond repair, and while he knew the Martians would fix them, they’d never quite operate the same. That thought stung. Your body, too, had changed, under occupation. You became gaunt, stretched out, both thin and bulging, the mortal human body utterly weak and incapable of handling the burden of such a parasite.

You’d wasted away in front of them and they had done nothing. The nausea that left you starving almost to the point of emaciation was blamed on warp sickness, initially, but the Luna Wolves weren’t stupid enough to be so easily deceived. The preternatural beauty and fullness that came in the weeks that followed was merely a reflection in him of the Warmaster’s love for you, one that disguised the way your skin warped around the growth. To his great shame, Ezekyle took himself in hand for the first time in decades when you looked like that. You even smelled different, lingering in the air around him for hours after you’d retired to his father’s chambers, the sickly sweet scent of you clinging to him even beneath a blisteringly hot shower. The water scalded his back as he’d stood hunched over, braced against the tiled wall in front of him, and he cursed when he thought of how much more lustrous your hair had become, and how your clothes had started to stretch across your belly, and how the already perfect swell of your chest was—

He made himself spend another fifteen minutes scrubbing his guilt from where it dripped down the grouting.

When the more slender parts of your body grew gaunt again, when you were tired, and slow, and it seemed that he alone could see it in your eyes that you were putting on a brave face for them, Ezekyle had gone to your bedside and asked you why you had wasted so much time in waiting to take it out.

“I don’t know,” was your answer, and you had squeezed his hand. He saw red just thinking about the way the oximeter dug into your finger, the plastic cold against his skin, and the dullness in your eyes, once so full of life. He punched the servitor in front of him hard, its inner and outer machinations stuttering at the impact before whirring back to life. “It will happen when it happens. The chirurgeons and the apothecaries know what they are doing.” You’d brought his hand up to your lips, then. They were cracked and dry, devoid of their usual softness, but they had still been so gentle against his knuckle when you tried to comfort him.

When an illness takes root, it ought to be cured. When a tumour grows, removed. The surgery should fix you. It would make you better, and happier, and things would be just as they were before. Now again, harder, that same fist pummelled into its gut until he felt bone break, lubricants spilling onto the mat, each strike a wish that the ache would dull and fade into the oblivion from whence it came. This was a momentous occasion, one he’d regret missing, but the thought of smelling the stench of your blood from the other side of a closed door was nauseating. He should be there, with his brothers. With his father who he knows needs him now possibly more than ever, to share in his strife and his delight.

And yet, after a painstakingly long half-cycle spent drenched in sweat, Ezekyle punches straight through the servitor’s skull and bellows in frustration when roars of joy fill every deck of the ship. Lady Lupercal is alive. The Warmaster has another son.

“Must he parade it around?” he asked under his breath as the Mournival stood by, watching from a stage as the Primarch showed the swaddled cloth in his arms to each company, one at a time. It was a miracle it hadn’t started that insufferable wailing again at the sound of ceramite sabatons thumping against plasteel flooring, each and every Luna Wolf in his immaculately cleaned armour, and only Horus going without. He was determined to maintain skin to skin contact with the thing they’d torn from the Legion Mother, as if that would make all the difference, and have it recognise him as its father all the quicker. Ezekyle bristled at the thought, though it wasn’t a new one. In the days since the arrival, the Warmaster had doted on it, and something dark and strange and sad had coiled up in his heart whenever he saw the way he held it close to his chest.

The Legion Mother had barely been able to walk when the men were called up to the debarkation deck, and he’d played the role of the dutiful, anxious son in the absence of any other volunteers. You clung to his arm, shivering from the effort of standing, but you smiled anyway. It was pained, and it was like only he could tell. “He is your father’s pride,” you whispered back, your eyes fixed not on your husband, but on the bundle in his care. “He thinks it’ll be good for all of you to know him, and I agree. He’s just another brother to care for, Ezekyle. Smaller, perhaps, than what you’re used to,” a weak laugh rattled through you, and he could almost feel the way your fingers tightened around the thick plate of his gauntlet, “but a brother all the same.”

thank u for making it this far <3 hopefully i ACTUALLY FINISH THIS

divider by @strangergraphics !!

[milen0ch]

Tulpar trainees

Pairing: Daisuke x F!reader

Warnings:NSFW(in the end)

A/N:I'm posting here for the first time, I hope it's not bad!

English is not my language so i used Google translate..😰

Another day of internship on Tulpar. You were anxious to get back to Earth. Why? Because Daisuke is a dumbass who can't be trusted with anything.

From the beginning, Daisuke's been pissing you off. Yes, he's cheerful and active, but how did he decide to take such a serious job? You didn’t have an answer to that question, because you were literally worlds apart.

«Y/N, help me please,» shouted Anya walking down the corridor to the medical section.

You quickly snatched a couple of rather bulky boxes from her hands. Having opened the automatic metal door, the boxes were placed on the floor.

«What is it?» you asked, tapping the box with your fingernails. «It's mostly painkillers, bandages, and disinfectants. Safety regulations require that all this stuff be in the med bay.» Anya carefully began to open the boxes and put the contents on the table.

«Your job is to put them in the lockers, and I'll rest for a while, if you don't mind.»

You nodded to Anya, and then she left for the cabins. Well, the lockers, both upstairs and downstairs, were empty, and you would have to put them all in the right order for the next hour. Okay, it's gonna take more than an hour.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

After half an hour, someone came into the room. You didn’t notice and continued your work, thinking it was Curly, checking the situation. You were brought out of your thoughts by a rumble. All the jars of painkillers were on the floor, and some of them had opened and the pills were scattered.

«Daisuke! What are you…!»

You were both angry and surprised at how he managed to do that.

«I'm sorry! It's just…»

Curley entered the sick bay and reprimanded you for being irresponsible. After all, the scattered medicines and broken jars were useless, and suddenly they could be helpful in case of something.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

The medical trainee sat in the main lobby on the couch. You enjoyed watching the night display as much as Anya did, but Anya had been very tired in recent weeks, so for the second night, you were enjoying it alone.

You felt sad for being told off. It didn't seem like a big deal, but your perfectionism thought differently.

So much were you in your thoughts that you didn't hear the approaching footsteps behind you until a palm touched your shoulder. It was Daisuke.

«Hey… I'm sorry again about today,» he sat down on the couch with you from the platform. «It's all the fault of the table that wobbles every time I touch it!» «it's fine,» you replied, getting up from the couch. «If you don't mind, I'm going to bed.»

When you had already taken the first steps, you suddenly felt someone else's arms around you. You didn't push Daisuke away as you realized that he was trying to apologize in this way, but you don’t like him. Why let him do that?

The rest of the night, you just lay on the bed and couldn't sleep. Thinking about Daisuke.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

The next week went by as usual. Toward the end of the day, you decided to go take a shower. As you took off your work overalls, Daisuke came running into the room.

«Y/N, do you happen to have a felt-tip pen? Oh…» Daisuke didn't immediately notice your half-naked body, but when he did, he turned away, blushing.

«Daisuke, you asshole!» you immediately covered yourself with your overalls. «I don't have your damn felt-tip pen! Get out of here!» «Nice figure, by the way…» said Daisuke as he left your room.

Now you were blushing not from anger, but from embarrassment.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

You were sitting at your desk in the medostack filling out some papers. You heard a knock on the metal door.

«Yes?»

It was Daisuke.

«Um, hi. Do you want to chat? I'm bored.» «You're welcome to sit down.» You nodded to the chair across from you.

Daisuke was very careful not to knock anything over this time. You mentally chuckled at that. Taking a seat across from you, Daisuke asked: «Why did you decide to work here? Did you decide from childhood that you wanted to be here?» Daisuke rested his chin on his palm.

«No, I didn't plan to be here at all.»

He saw you put the papers aside, and your speech became a little more serious.

«I wanted to be a medic, I really did. I studied a lot of biology, but I couldn't get into medical school. Working here was the last thing I had to do.» You frowned a little, but then asked back. «How did you get here?»

«My mom got me this part-time job. I didn't know what I wanted. At least you had a goal, but I didn't.» «You know, if space isn't your thing, you're bound to find one.»

You got up to put the papers in the closet behind your desk. You didn't notice Daisuke standing behind you. You gave him a questioning look. Your gaze rested on his lips, which came closer and closer with each passing second until they finally made contact with your own.

The quick, fleeting kiss awakened some special feelings in Y/N that wanted more. Their lips touched again, but this time in a more intimate way.

You ran one hand through his hair and placed the other on his cheek, tracing his birthmarks with her thumb. While Daisuke clutched your hips, lifting you up a little, for the difference in their height was a little large. They kissed selflessly until they heard the sound of the door opening and Anya appeared.

All you saw were two young men looking at her, breathing heavily. At first Anya didn't understand anything, but when she looked at their red faces, everything became clear.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Daisuke and Y/N had grown much closer in a couple months, fleeting kisses on the forehead or cheeks had become a regular occurrence. No, they weren't officially dating yet, but many had suspicions about it. Swansea had to listen to Daisuke talk about you all the time. And Anya had to hear the same thing, but only from you about Daisuke. Jimmy, on the contrary, was doubly disgusted with both of you It was night. Y/N were sitting on her bed in your cabin, reading a book. Daisuke came into the room without knocking. He was all disheveled, his not very long hair was gathered in a small ponytail, but the front strands were still falling out. He lays down next to your, resting his head on her lap.

«Daisuke, are you okay?»

«Swansea gave me a lot of work to do today, I'm very tired.» Daisuke spoke in a slightly haggard tone, but clearly in jest. «Oh, what are you reading?» Well, the tone changed to a more playful one.

Daisuke gets the book and suddenly you take it out of his hands. You bend slightly and kiss him on the forehead several times, running your hand through his hair.

Abruptly Daisuke lifts himself up flipping Y/N underneath him and hovering over her. You are embarrassed by yours position. Daisuke, on the other hand, was smirking.

«I was wondering how many ribs you have» Daisuke said, running his fingers over your ribs through Y/N's shirt. «Would you like me to count them?»

Daisuke then began to press his fingers hard on the outline of the bones, causing you to feel a tickle mixed with a little pain. The laughter of both of them echoed through the room.

«Daisuke! Stop it!» your eyes were already tearful.

When Daisuke stopped, they stared into each other's eyes for a long time. This eye contact didn't last long. Something clicked in their heads. Daisuke pulled Y/N into a kiss. This kiss gained momentum very quickly. When they were both short of breath, Daisuke pulled away from the sweet lips and moved lower, leaving wet kisses on the your sensitive neck as she sighed languidly in response.

Daisuke's hands reached the buttons of your shirt and began to unbutton them, opening a new territory for kissing and touching. But the neck wasn't finished yet, Daisuke had managed to leave a couple of purple bruises on the pale skin. At that moment no one cared that the hickeys were in plain sight, that no turtleneck would cover them. Though Y/N would definitely scold Daisuke for it.

When the shirt was finally removed from you, Daisuke stood up to look at her and assess her appearance. Your hair was disheveled, her cheeks were red, and you were wearing only a bra and pants. This appearance made Daisuke's jeans feel tight. Daisuke realized the situation they were in, which made the feeling of puzzlement completely overwhelm him.

You were tensed by such a sudden change in Daisuke's emotions, so you asked:

«Is everything okay?»

«I… Yes… I just don't know what to do next.» He smiled guiltily.

«Then will you let me take matters into my own hands?» He nodded approvingly. «Then lie down.»

Daisuke obediently lay down. Y/N settled on his thighs before removing her pants. You drew him into another passionate kiss. Her hands reached for the hem of his yellow T-shirt with the Pony Express logo, wanting to take it the hell off. Daisuke helped you with that, though you had to pull away from each other, but not for long. Y/N immediately ran your hand all over his torso. He wasn't heavily pumped, but he wasn't too skinny either. The best baseball player in his college, after all. They pulled away again .

Your hand reached for the fly of his jeans, unbuttoning them. Then you pulled them down along with his underwear, pulling out his already hard, excited cock. You ran your hand over it a few times, watching Daisuke's reaction.

Okay, enough teasing, Y/N pulled back the wet strip of your panties exposing herself and began to thrust herself at Daisuke. Soft moans came out of both of their mouths. Daisuke took hold of Y/N's waist helping you to start moving.Moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin spread throughout the room.

After a couple minutes both were hit by a strong wave of pleasure. You collapsed on Daisuke's chest breathing heavily.

«Ahem… Y/N will you be my girlfriend?» Daisuke asked, also breathing heavily, trying to squeeze out a smile.

«I will.»

If they know that the doors here are thin?

[biibini]

Hiii! I love your hcs! Can I request a scenario of going on a date to an arcade with Mizu? (and possibly winning her a Snoopy plushie??)

fluff modern!mizu x reader at an arcade date (request)

tags: fluff, arcade date, modern!mizu, reader & mizu are already dating, date nights, snoopy reference, sweet kisses, author loves love, author wishes that was her with mizu

a/n: thank YOU for reading my hcs! that one mizu & snoopy post is so adorable i just want my girl to be happy :,) also i’m starting school AGAIN i can never catch a break w this damned quarter system

modern!mizu & u are already dating in this scenario

but every other week would be a date night

it didn’t matter if it was a simple or extravagant date

it was always a designated time to catch up, spend quality time together, and experience new things

even with the busyness of college and classes and homework, it was still a night to look forward to

this upcoming friday was a night at the arcade

u had been there with friends before but it had been a couple months since ur last visit

it was also mizu’s first time going to the arcade w u as a date

u had already talked ab the games u wanted to try together such as the mario kart, a few shooting games, airhockey

modern!mizu would def let her competitive side come out with some games

she already gets competitive with taigen when it comes to sports

she totally doesnt rock his shit in basketball

if she’s against you, she’ll go easy on you

doesn’t mean she won’t back down from a fight

You and Mizu were hand in hand, checking out the games available at the arcade. Going down one of the aisles, you found yourselves at the some of the newer arcade games. Skimming at some of them, you hear a familiar sound.

Hadoken!

It was soon followed with a grunt and fighting groans. You turn back to find a Super Street Fighter game, patiently waiting to be played. Your eyes widen as they found the perfect challenge.

You playfully tugged at Mizu’s hand, pointing at the retro machine.

“I bet I can beat you at the Street Fighter.” you said, lightly jabbing at her competitive spirit. You knew she would put her all in it. However, you wondered of its limit.

Mizu glanced at you, and then looked back to spot the machine. Her eyes ignited, seeing the challenge put right in front of her by her

“You in?” you say, defying her in a playful tone.

“You bet.”

so um

turns out that was the WORSE POSSIBLE GAME YOU COULD CHALLENGE MIZU TO

u played a little bit with friends and family but mizu was on another level

how exactly did mizu beat ur ass for 5 rounds straight???

old man eiji.

he was a retro arcade go-er during his prime

even had the game console to continue his practice at home

if he wasn’t welding or fixing up someone’s bike, he was definitely spending his time grinding on the game

so modern!mizu end up playing games with him bc he got sick and tired of the computer bots

Player 2 Wins blinks again on the screen while her character, Ryu, celebrates another round of victory. You slowly turn to face Mizu to find a grin forming on her face.

“Wanna go again, baby?”, she taunts, hugging your hips closer to her.

You blankly stare into her eyes, your orbs empty from defeat. Mizu already knew your answer.

“Let’s find one we can both do.”, she said as she gave you a quick peck on the cheek. Her arm wrapped around your shoulder, beginning your hunt for the next game to win together.

modern!mizu would def try to win u a prize

actually no not one

all of them. yes she will try.

do not let her in a round1

iykyk

that is plushie heaven and credit/debit hell

her poor card will be spent trying to win u a prize

she wouldn’t outright announce her achievements

but she would attempt to sneak away from u, hoping to get lucky and win a plushie or two

u loved and appreciated the sweet thought

but

there was no room on the bed, the bookshelves, the desk, the couch

mizu even brought a couple plushies back home but her old man started to complain about mizu and u coming by just to drop off plushies and not see him

(he likes the plushies but bro is alone with his craft and misses his girl sometimes)

if u eyed any specific prize, modern!mizu would stop for nothing to earn it for u

at the arcade, u eyed a snoopy plushie, stuck in a claw game (for a little too long) and pouted at how cute it was

like cmon it was rlly cute

he had a puffer and a lil hat

mizu immediately saw ur reaction and locked in

Mizu’s arm slides off your shoulder. You look back, hoping to find the missing arm. No arm, no Mizu.

Instead, you find her striding over to the claw machine you just stared at with a goal in mind. Snoopy was coming with you, one way or another. The thought of Snoopy being in your arms was nice, but there was no way she was going to get it.

First off, your bedroom was already filled with plushies. Peace and love to all of them. They were practically your babies. However, every flat surface or shelf had a plushie. Every. Single. Surface.

The bed was crowded as well. No way there would be space for another plushie. There was also no way that she would go back home to drop off more plushies. Eiji was at his limit with the amount she dropped off during the last time.

Secondly, she had already spent so much money trying to get twinning plushies for the both of you. Her poor credit card was taking hit after hit after hit. Mizu drastically failed after every attempt and you had to basically pull her away from the machine after her 11th time.

Third of all, the both of you were getting ready to leave the arcade for dinner. After getting demolished by Mizu 5 rounds in a row at Super Street Fighter, you didn't have much energy in you to play more games.

But once Mizu gets set on something, it's hard to pull her away from it. It was already difficult separating her from her failed claw games earlier. You just decided to accept the outcomes of this claw machine this time around.

On the other hand, Mizu was in the zone. She studied the position of the plushie, focusing on how far back Snoopy sat. She slid the arcade card, starting her future attempts to retrieve the plushie. She bit the inside of her cheek as her hand carefully held the joystick. The machine jingled, starting its countdown.

0:30

Mizu took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

Focus Mizu.

0:29

You can get this for Y/N.

0:28

Mizu opens her eyes, pushing the joystick to the right in hopes of aligning the claw with Snoopy. She then pushes the joystick forward, nudging it as it gains proximity to the dog plushie.

0:23

The claw seemed right above Snoopy. Although it made you satisfied, Mizu couldn't agree. Something felt off.

0:21

She nudged the joystick to the left once.

0:20

Still unsatisfied, she pushed the claw back. Her eyes squinted, hoping to gain a clearer view of the claw and its alignment.

0:18

She continues to stare at the placement, studying it. Almost watching it like prey.

You watch from behind as you hear the faint sounds of laughing and other arcade games being played go off. In front of you is complete silence and concentration.

0:10

Mizu nudges the joystick forward.

0:09

She gets closer to the game. At this point, her face is practically smudging her view.

0:07

She nudges the joystick to the right once again. She sees the claw fully aligned with the plushie.

0:06

Should I press the button?

0:05

Mizu's eyes glance up and down, hoping to draw the line between the claw and your future prize.

0:04

You watch as her right hand is sitting on top of the collect button. Her fingers are so close to pushing it, practically edging the top of the button. They're ready to take the chance yet her hands refuse to commit.

0:02

"Drop it, Mizu."

0:01

She nudges the joystick one more time, bringing it slightly forward.

0:00

You come up next to her, watching the claw machine slowly descend down to the gigantic pile of plushies, a mix of Snoopy merchandise. Yet only one got your heart.

The claw extends, closing in on the plushie you stared at earlier. Its thin, metal arms wrap around Snoopy's head. It tightened its grip, securing Snoopy in the arm.

You watch the plushie slowly ascend. The both of you carefully watch the claw bring the prize. As the claw continued its journey to the drop-off corner, it slightly swung back and forth. You grab Mizu's right hand, holding it in anticipation and fear. She squeezes it once.

You look up to meet her gaze only to find a reassuring smile. You mirror her, giving her one back. You hear a small thud below. Mizu bends down to find your beloved Snoopy, handing him to you.

Your eyes widen. Snoopy was much cuter up close, especially with his little hat and baby blue puffer jacket. Looking up, you spot a proud Mizu. You simply get closer to her and give her a sweet kiss on the lips.

"Thank you, baby."

"Of course," she answers. "Anything for you, my dear."

She backs away and extends her hand out: an invitation to lunch.

You smile, accepting the invitation. With intertwined hands, you leave the arcade with another plushie in hand.

[kairiscorner]

to celebrate this blog's monthsary, i have a lil gift for y'all :D hoping y'all love it, and hoping i'll see you guys more on my blog! cheers (✿◕‿◕✿)

celebrating your monthsary with them

miles morales 1610

oh, to say he'd been anxious for this day was an understatement; he was both happy, excited, nervous, kinda sick in his stomach as he realizes it's been around 30 whole days since you agreed to be with him. 30 whole days. usually, from what he's heard and seen, not a lot of high school romances go on after 14 days, 21 if they really wanted to push it--and to see that you still loved him the same way he loved you, even as he constantly falls for you more and more everyday... man, oh man, do you put butterflies in his stomach.

he went all out this time and stayed up the whole night painting something for you. i like to think miles hasn't traditionally painted on canvas and with paintbrushes for a hot minute, so he kinda was stumped when he realized that he would have to refresh himself on how to do it; but it was for you, so of course, he'd make it perfect and made it scream: 'i'm in love with you, please, never forget that my love for you is here. it'll only get better from here on out as long as i'm with you'.

when he handed the painting to you, he looked disheveled and tired, but he smiled widely as he handed it to you. he used graffiti on some parts because he knows how passionate you are about it just as he is--that's another reason he wanted to be with you in the first place, you understood him and love him and his passions as well. he painted all your favorite things on it, scenes of his favorite memories with you, as if the photos themselves were placed on the painting... he thought of you the whole time he made this.

"happy monthsary, love. sorry, i know i sound so corny right now... but i just really, really love you and... and i wanna keep loving you, every day, week, month, year--every lifetime after this."

miles morales 42

like his counterpart, he would have been a little skeptical at how long you've been with him--how come you haven't gotten tired of being with the same boy every day? how do you still find room in your heart to think of him as someone special? how come you still light up his world every single time he looks at you, sees you smile, and feels you hold on to him? ...you've got him questioning how long he can keep being in this paradise with you and being so damn smitten with you in every way possible.

he hasn't felt such a warm and meaningful connection with someone he truly adores for the longest time–and he wants to let you know you are the most important person in his life apart from his mom and uncle aaron.

i think he'd take you out on a date, and that'd be a total shocker to you since usually, miles hates going out when it's not discussed between you two in advanced; but this time is different, this time marks the beginning of a new month for you two, a new beginning in your relationship as you continue to be with him despite how difficult he can get.

he shows up at your doorstep with lilacs wrapped in a pretty bouquet, and looking at you with such soft eyes and an adoring smile on his face, he mutters a thank you for being with him for this long; for remaining humble and kind towards him even if he can be a handful all the time.

"happy monthsary, mi cielo. i might sound like a total dork right now, but... i love you. and i keep finding myself falling for you over and over and over again whenever i see you, hear you, and feel you close to me. i promise, i will never make you feel lonely or sad, so long as you'll let me. because... i really love you."

gwen stacy

you have given gwen so much relief over the time that you were there for her before you two got together, and albeit she was extremely nervous and anxious about being your girlfriend and opening her heart up again to someone near and dear to her heart, she truly cherishes you and is beyond grateful that you never changed her or forced her to bury that fear just to feel like everything's okay.

she will admit that she often feels scared and that breaking up would be good for the both of you, but she also feels like she wouldn't be the same without you. you've changed her life for the better in so many ways, she doesn't really wanna leave you, instead, she wants to protect you and make sure you're safe–but actually, you end up doing that for her, too.

she's eternally grateful for you since, in your own ordinary, little ways–without even knowing it sometimes–you save gwen time and time again from her own insecurities and self-doubt; and as you stay with her for a whole month, never once neglecting her or her needs, she feels more reassured that you do love her, that she is doing okay, and that you wouldn't just leave her out of the blue.

she'd show her appreciation by sitting with you under the stars in a spot in the park or by a more secluded area only you two know about and just... admire you as you're admiring the stars, and eventually her when you feel her gaze on you.

"i don't know what i did to deserve you coming into my life, i know i messed up a lot in the past, but... maybe the universe is kinder to me this time. maybe i can love without having to think anything bad'll happen, and... i always want that person to receive all my love to be you, and only you."

pavitr prabhakar

he'd actually keep count of all the days you two have been together; like, every day you are with him is never erased from his mind. i think pav would have amazing memory, and actually, there's never a day that went by for the past month that didn't have you two in it. be it the good and the bad, the calm and the chaotic, you two are always together, and he can recall each and every thing, great and small, that made him feel happy with you.

though he says being spider man is easy for him, loving you is much easier. it comes to him like how breathing comes to him, it feels natural, not forced, and like it was always meant to happen for him to feel like he's really living, that he's alive.

your love gives him more of a reason to keep trying as spider man as pavitr, even though you had only been with him for a month, he can picture living every day for the rest of his life with you. i think what he'd do to express that would be through him whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he holds you close as you two are bonding at his place or yours--just in each others' company.

"i can't believe i'm literally the coolest guy in all of mumbattan, but i'm dating the one person who makes me feel like all of this is worthwhile; that it all means something to be... me, and it's to be with you. thank you, love, for being my purpose. you'll always be my purpose every day."

hobie brown

now hobie doesn't like labels, but... he is quite a sentimental guy, believe it or not. when he realized today was the exact day you two agreed to be reciprocate each others' feelings, he felt a little tingly about it, a little warm, a little fuzzy, a little... well, a whole lot actually, a whole lot brighter about what's to come in the future.

hobie wants you to know, even though he tries to express it so many times over the 30-ish days you two have been together, that he loves you not only for how you look, how you smile, how you fight, how you speak, how you laugh, how you do everything... but also how you've grown on him, how you've practically become his everything.

he's a very chill and low-key guy, but he really wants you to know that even without a label, you're not just "somebody" to him. so, he's been collecting small mementos of scraps from battles, sanded them down, and polished them to look prettier and... made you a promise bracelet.

"now, i know i said i don't believe in consistency, but you're the sole exception, love. this bracelet i made for you, it... it means more than what words will allow. it'll hold all the promises i've ever made you and will continue to make, and every time i'll see it on you, you'd best believe i'll make them all come true. such as this one i'm about to make right now: to love you forever and ever, in an inconsistently consistent way, just the way you love it."

miguel o'hara

he didn't realize it had been a whole month since he admitted to you that you've been the only one he's loved for the longest time. it actually scares him a little, how no universe has collapsed ever since you agreed to date him, almost as if... this was supposed to happen; he was allowed to love you.

the thought of you loving him also scares him a bit, knowing that he can be scary and intimidating a lot of the time, he hopes you never felt the urge to hide from him or leave him be; he hates to admit this, but he can't be himself when you're not around. you have provided him with so much relief from all the pain and sorrow he's experienced for the longest time, and to lose you would... it would be like losing everything he's worked so hard to keep.

your love is worthwhile to him, a warm, nurturing, humble kind of love that he is scared to lose. you try to reassure him all the time that he deserves it, and he still struggles to believe you, but seeing as how you've kept loving him for a whole month and never left him once... he wants to thank you for it.

he doesn't exactly have a fancy gesture for it, other than create a whole ass ring for you that acts like his watch. he wants you to know that with this ring, he is just one call away. he wishes he gave this to you the moment you said yes to him, but better late than never, no? he can feel himself crumbling as he fumbles over his words, just kinda hoping that... you'll kiss him to shut him up and spare him from the embarrassment.

"um... sorry that i... i never really gave this to you before, b-but i'm here to give it now. it's a ring i made, it works like the watch, but it's way more compact, and, uh... you can call me on it anytime if you need me. i'm just one call away, if you need anything... i'll be here waiting for you. waiting for you to, to... to call me because... i want you to need me to help you, because... because i truly love you and would dedicate my everything to you."

spider noir

he'd wake up at the crack of dawn to prepare you a whole day of pampering and affection, because he's also kept the details of this day down to the last letter in the front of his mind, every day.

peter is very intricate about how he wants everything you experience today to have at least some semblance of how he feels about you. he never thought you'd stay with him for this long, he's dreamed of loving you for a lifetime, and now... maybe it'll come true, he can show you all the love he's held back for so long in fear you'd leave him not long after he confessed to you.

he'd buy you flowers of all kinds, he'd open doors for you, pull back your chair when you're going to sit, and... just do all sorts of little gestures of love for you to make sure you're not only happy, comfortable, and safe--but that you feel that what he does for you is a choice for him; a choice for him that he will always choose because he wants you.

he'd try his hardest with aunt may to cook you up a wonderful candlelit dinner, and when aunt may leaves you two alone to talk and reminisce such happy memories and a successful relationship so far... he realizes just how much of a little boy he feels when he looks into your eyes; a full-on blush coming on form the tips of his ears down to where his collarbone starts and a goofy grin plastered on his face as he tries to tell you all that he's longed to tell you.

"...thank you, my dearest, for... for bearing with me. it's no easy task to love a man when his name is peter benjamin parker, trust me, i'm very aware of how hard it is. i hope you... i hope you know just how much i adore you, every single day, you are all that fills my mind. i want to give you the happiest life, the best kind of life i can offer you as your lover. so please... if you'll have me for many more months, years, even... i'll show you just how much love a man like me can carry for the most perfect person in the world, who's sitting across me right now and watching me blush as red as a tomato and grin like the happiest guy in the world, which i am right now."

a/n: THANKS AGAIN GUYS FOR ALL THE SUPPORT !! 627 FOLLOWERS ALREADY??? I'M LOVING EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU ALL MORE AND MORE BY THE SECOND <333 THANK YOU GUYSSSSS !!

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @fiannee @maxoloqy @luvstarrstruck @pixqlsin @zalayni @q2ie @thee-fantastic-mrfox @solecitoszn @yuridopted0 @fictarian @jrrantss

[abbysdruidess]

•._.••¯´´•.¸¸.•headcanons about married life with abby [w nsfw]•._.••¯´´•.¸¸.•

wc: 1.1k

tags: tooth rotting fluff, smut, dom!Abby, dom/sub dynamics mentioned

a/n: lmk what you guys think abt this one:)

this is kinda in the same universe along with the abby proposes to you and wedding hcs, so if you haven't you could check them out-though this one could also be read as a standalone<3

ꜱꜰᴡ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

❦ you guys put a lot of work into your little dreamhouse™️ and are extremely proud of it. As an out and about lesbian, Abby took up a woodworking project and built a library that fits right into the wall of your living room. Which you were extremely supporting of, because it gave you the lovely opportunity to ogle your wife in a tank top and work pants, huffing, red faced and wiping sweat from her forehead in your backyard. You set an alarm and every couple of hours you bring her some cool water or lemonade with fruit and brush some locks of hair out of her dewy face<3

❦ she's also one of these people that don't believe in bringing in a handyman to fix any faulty appliance in your household. She has a huge, neon yellow tool box stashed away somewhere(you still aren't sure exactly where) that magically reappears everytime your car won't start or the air-conditioner starts making a noise. And 90% of the time Abby gets the job done, running on pure willpower and spite alone. When she doesn't and you guys have to bring someone else to do it, she just goes "Pfft, I could have totally done that. I just didn't cause I thought I might break it.". "Of course honey", you reassure her with a kiss on the cheek. You don't have her saved in your phone with an image of Bob the Builder for nothing.

❦ you guys are over at her dad's place a lot. When you were looking for a house, you made sure to get a place near his so you could visit whenever. He has a photo of you two from the wedding in his mantlepiece making the goofiest faces imaginable and every single time you visit Abby pesters him to take it down while you shit yourself laughing in the background.

❦ also, when your step-siblings Yara and Lev join, it's absolute chaos. You guys probably end up having an impromptu food fight and flick celery sticks at each other.

❦ if you have any hobbies such as knitting/playing instruments/writing etc she's fullly behind them and will always ask you to show her your progress. She's pretty proud of it as well, and smiles a little excitedly like :D

❦ please sing to her. It doesn't matter if you haven't sang a day in your life and it sounds like tires screeching on asphalt, it calms her when her baby sings to her. Will think you have the voice of a choir of angels no matter what and it is the only thing that can effectively put her to sleep. Bonus points if you play the guitar as well.

❦ Abby is really into reading(probably why she got that library built in the first place) and has one permanently etched in her night stand. She strikes me as one of these people that is a fan of the classics and doesn't read anyone that came after Hemingway. Until for her 26th birthday someone gifts her books from like Stephen King or Alison Bechdel and initially she's hesitant but eventually they grow into her and are stationed into her Hall of Fame shelf.

❦ whenever either of you is sick, you insist to pamper and care for one another. During the winter months Abs has a cold or the flu every month or so, and you have to actually fight her to take the day off and rest.

-Baby, you burning up. If you go to work you'll just get worse.

-I'm *cough* fine. I honestly feels 10 years younger. I don't get what the big deal is.

❦ you two definitely exercise together. Either you always go to the gym together-although you're not there as often as she is. Abby exercises religiously 5 times a week and that exercise will take place with or without you, but she would be damned if she didn't love when you tagged along with her. Either you guys have set up a little home gym with some basic equipment like mats, a treadmill, these bouncy balls and a weight lifting bench. Of course, you spot her, because you will take up any offer to ogle at her putting those big, powerful guns she calls arms to work. She reciprocates by insisting to hold your thighs while you do sit ups. And she inevitably ends up squeezing them like balls of dough.

ɴꜱꜰᴡ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

❦ when you first met Abby in your early 20s, you though it was natural for a woman her age to have such a heightened libido. After all, she did get around a lot for someone that looked like her. And that instict to fuck you senseless never abandons her-Abby is in a constant state of Wanting to Fuck, and is game whenever you are.

❦ Your sexcapades have included(but are not limited to): empty libraries, locker room showers, back alleys of clubs and just about any sturdy furniture in your house.

❦ she is a total beast when it comes to lovemaking, and can go anywhere from 2 hours to all night long, although most sessions end when you tap out bc you know you'll be sore tomorrow.

❦ even though everyone knows you're Mrs and Mrs from the ring on your finger, Abby wants to reassure that, by marking you as hers. Hickies, bites, anything is game. And she loves the slight sting of the scratch marks you leave her when she hops in the shower the morning after. She calls them claw marks affectionately.

❦ Loooves strapping you to positions she can utilise her muscle strength, like flatiron or missionary with her arms propped up. When you're scissoring, she wants to be the one with her legs on top, grinding her pussy into yours like it's nothing.

❦ I think Abby has this very hard dom image, and while she wants to take over during sex and feel like the one in control, she also needs to be taken care of. She works hard from day to night, and her past partners haven't been exactly accommodating to her needs. So whenever she's particularly exhausted, crawl under the covers to give her some head. Or in the shower. Or in the couch. Or under the dining table. She definitely cums fast when you suck her clit, it gets extremely sensitive and swollen while you're in between her legs.

❦ Is an occasional squirter, and also loves to make you squirt. It happened once as you were riding her face, and she just. slurped it all up. You lowkey passed out on the spot as your knees almost gave up.

❦ cuddling with her afterwards. There's still some resounding bliss in the air, as you both treasure the moment, your limbs all tangled up. You leave small kisses all over her sternum as she tightens her grip around you. If you're too exhausted, you fall asleep immediately, if not you just glance at each other through heavy lids with lovestruck eyes. You sleep like a baby and wake up feeling as refreshed as ever.

send me an ask if you guys would like me to elaborate any of these<3

[queen-of-deans-booty]

His Anchor

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: MoC!Dean, fluff at the end

Request by @jessicalynnann: how about mark of Cain dean and he is an ass to everyone but the reader. He is all fluffy and lovely dovey with the reader and one night he has had enough of her cuteness and just kisses her… maybe she tells him about a book she is reading… 

Summary: Dean is affected by the Mark in ways you and Sam don't realize, and he's trying not to let it affect others around him. However, there is only one person who can lift his spirits even when he's shrouded in darkness.

Square Filled: the first blade (2019) for @heavenandhellbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

x

Dean sits alone at the library table with just a dim lamp to light the room and a glass of alcohol next to him. He hasn’t been doing good as of late because of the fucking Mark on his arm. It’s a constant reminder of how much he’s got to lose, and it’s taken over his life. He wants the damn thing removed but he’d be putting people in danger if he does. This Mark has already claimed so much of his life that he’s trying to hold onto whatever he has left, refusing to give into it more.

He traces the edge of the Mark with his index finger and goosebumps crawl up his arm immediately. There’s something raw in the danger that befalls the Mark including the First Blade. He’s used it plenty of times to kill those who deserve it even though it itches for more. The First Blade will never be satisfied with how many kills Dean gives it because there is a purity in how many victims it can claim.

Including himself. In the end, he’ll fall victim to his own blade. Would he die? Would the Mark allow him the sweet relief of death?

“Hey, you alright? Why is it so dark in here?”

Dean is pulled from his thoughts and looks up at his brother who has entered the room.

“What do you want?” Dean asks and turns the brightness up on the lamp.

“I might have found a lead on Metatron. He’s the only one that’s gonna have information on the Mark.”

Dean is so sick and tired of hearing how his brother found a lead only for that lead to turn up dead. He’s been led on by hope far too many times only for it to bite him in the ass later.

“Sammy, how many times do I have to tell you? Stop looking for the cure. It’s pointless if it means a lot of people are gonna be hurt in the process.”

“I know but this time is different. Listen to this. Rowena is a really old witch. She comes from the same kind of magic as the Mark, so I figure if we can get to Metatron, then--”

Dean slams his glass onto the table, shattering it to pieces. His hand bleeds but he doesn’t care about that. Sam jumps at the sudden noise and stares at his brother with uncertainty in his eyes.

“Don’t make me smack you.”

Sam’s shoulders sag in defeat.

“Fine. Whatever.”

The younger brother leaves to investigate this on his own. If Dean isn’t gonna help him then he’ll do everything himself. Dean knows he will never give up because that’s not what they do. If it were Sam who took this Mark on, then Dean would be the same way. Dean shakes his head and grabs another glass from the small cart by the table and pours himself another drink. He has bigger things to worry about than the Mark like Rowena, Cain, the Book of the Damned, and just about every fucking thing in his life.

You walk into the library with a book in your hand and Dean’s mood becomes ten times better. Everything in his life is fucked up but you. You’re the light in all this darkness and he’s so scared you’ll end up hurt because of him. You look up and smile when you see Dean but the smile is lost when you see the pieces of glass on the table.

“Hey, where’s Sam?” you ask.

“Doing nerdy things,” Dean shrugs.

“Okay, can I talk to you about this book I just finished? Like I need to tell someone.”

“Sure,” he chuckles and welcomes the distraction.

“Okay,” you rush to the table and sit next to him, “so the main character, Alana, works at this big company that everyone knows about and she feels trapped doing the same shit every single day. She wants to be doing more with her life but doesn’t know where to start or what she should be doing. That is, until the CEO of the company, Marcel started doing some shady shit. She tries to find out what he’s been up to, and it turns out that he’s making this serum that will make him rule the universe or some shit like that. She’s like hell no so she tries to foil his plans but ends up as his test subject! She tries to escape him but he ended up giving her the serum since he needed a human subject. This whole big fight happens between them but I was not expecting that turn of events!”

Dean isn’t paying attention to a goddamn word you’re saying. You’re so passionate and happy about this book you’re reading that he’s focused on your smile, the way your eyes light up, and how you can’t sit still. You give him joy like no other. How did he ever cope before he met you?

“Are you even listening to me? Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask.

Dean can’t help but grab your chair and pull you closer to him. He slides his big hands into your hair and plants his lips on your impulsively. You haven’t felt his lips in over a year since he kissed you when he was ass-backward drunk. You thought he never brought it up because he was drunk, but he didn’t want the one good thing in his life to go away if he confessed how he felt about you.

He pulls away from you and watches as your mouth opens and closes like you don’t know what to do. Your cheeks heat up in nervousness because you were not expecting that at all.

“Oh, okay,” you stutter.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I’m glad I found you and not Sam.”

“So, how did Alana escape Marcel?”

Just like that, you’re back to passionately talking about your book. You’re the only thing anchoring him down and keeping him sane, and he needs a bit of that right now.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[minniesmutt]

𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔯𝔢: 𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔢

♱ ━━━  PAIRING: I.N X READER ♱ ━━━  CW: STOMACH MENTIONS, NAUSEA, FOOD, WET DREAMS, SOMNO, FINGERING, UNPROTECTED SEX, DIRTY TALK, CREAMPIE ♱ ━━━  WC: 1.1K

     Y/n was on the verge of damning corsets. They were typically something she would just put up with day in and day out. But her stomach had been giving her more issues lately and the vampires were starting to worry.

     “Do you want to rest for a bit Princess?” Jeongin had asked.

     He had some business in town and Y/n offered to occupy him. Hoping the fresh air would help whatever was going on with her. Hwan had offered to switch out her wardrobe to dresses that didn’t require the garment which she was thankful for.

     “I’m fine Jeongin. We’re almost back anyways.” Y/n dismissed

     “Are you sure? You don’t look well.”

     She didn’t feel well. She had barely eaten, not by choice. Just the thought of food made her nauseous. She’d felt ill when she woke up and Hwan helped her with a cup of tea and that seemed to help. Bless the maid for that quick trick.

     “I’m sure,” Y/n assured him as he wrapped an arm around her.

     “Have you eaten today?”

     “Food hasn’t sounded appetizing lately. Every time I think about food I feel sick,” Y/n explained 

     “Can you please try and eat something when we get back? I’ll sit with you.”

     Y/n agreed as they finished their trek back to the manor. Once they got there, Jeongin had the staff prepare a meal for Y/n and sat with her in the dining room. One of the butlers had brought her a cup of tea and a glass of water in the meantime.

     Jeongin kept a hand on her lap and rubbed her thigh as she sipped her tea. The staff brought out a meal for her. Jeongin watched her slowly try to eat. One bite at a time. 

     “Proud of you,” Jeongin said as she finished up. 

     “Can we go lay down?” Y/n asked 

     “Of course.”

     Jeongin walked her to her room and helped her into bed, lying down with her. Wrapping his arms around her body. It had been a long day for them and he understood how she had fallen asleep quickly.

     Anyone else and he would have left. But it was Y/n. The one exception to not just him but all of them. 

     He lay content in the bed, arms kept her warm against him as she let out a small whimper. Jeongin looked down as he moved her to lay on her back. Worried it was a nightmare, he scanned over her expression. He was ready to wake her until his name deliciously slipped from her lips. 

     “Naughty girl,” He chuckled as another slipped from her. 

     Jeongin leaned down and kissed her exposed neck, one hand holding her hip. She let out another moan, the hand on her hip bunched up the skirt of her dress. Jeongin listened to her little moans as his hand slipped under her dress and past her undergarment. Her heartbeat was still steady from before she started having a wet dream. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself a bit. He wanted to know what images were running through her mind as one of his fingers ran through her slick folds. The tip of his finger teased her puckering hole.

     Smiling as he remembered that just this morning she asked him if she would try something later, something being fucking her while she slept. Something Hyunjin slipped into her brain the other day and now she was curious. He made it a point to be out with her longer than he needed to be to tire her out because the thought excited him. 

     He lifted his head and watched her expression as he dipped his finger into her. Not much of a reaction but he still thrusted in and out of her. Rubbing up against her walls and pushing a second finger inside of her. A moan slipped past her lips as he started spreading her open. Thumb moving to rub slow circles into her clit.

     His name came out of her mouth before he moved to sit between her thighs, pulling his fingers out of her and pulling her undergarment away, discarding the piece to the floor. Perfectly spread out for him as he discarded her dress, careful not to disturb her sleep. 

     Jeongin quickly discarded his own clothing before returning his fingers inside of her. Jeongin sat up on his knees and stroked his erection as he prepped her for him. He listened to the delectable sleepy moans that came out of her when his long fingers brushed against that one gummy spot inside her. Breathing picking up a bit before he pulled his digits out of her. 

     He pulled his hips towards her, laying her bottom on his thighs as he dipped his tip into her. He sat up straight and held onto her hips as she started stirring while he continued pushing into her. Getting fully inside her and letting her get used to him subconsciously before pulling out and thrusting into her. 

     Eyes watching her chest bounce with each thrust. Gradually he sped up. He listened to her moans pick up until he watched her sleepy eyes open. 

     “Have a nice dream princess?” Jeongin smirked 

     “Yes.” Y/n moaned as she grabbed her sheets

     He’d have to question her later about what happened in her dream. Right now, he was focused on drilling into her. Y/n moved her hands up to grab his wrists as he snapped into hers. 

     “More innie.” Y/n moaned 

     “Greedy today?” Jeongin teased as he adjusted their position. Throwing her legs over his shoulders and leaned down, bending her in half as he drove his cock into her. 

     Y/n threw her head back into the pillow as he hit the right spot inside her. Abusing it and making her clench more and more around him. His breath picked up as he gripped the sheets under them. Placing them next to her to support his weight. 

     He pressed deeper and deeper until the knot in her stomach snapped and she clamped down on him. Warmth flooded through her as her release coated his cock.

     “Fuck,” Jeongin groaned and he pushed himself to the edge, letting his cum fill her. 

     He pulled out and moved to her en-suite bathroom to grab a warm wet rag to clean up. Not wanting to push her more since she wasn't feeling too well. He came back and cleaned the both of them up before pulling her under the covers with him

     Jeongin ensured both of them were comfortable under the sheets as Y/n laid up on his chest. The vampire smiled at her as he laid her hand on her back. 

     The small domestic moment was ruined by a rapid knock on the. Both turned as Jeongin pulled the covers over her body more before the door opened.

     “Sorry for the intrusion Princess and my lord but it’s urgent news,” Hwan said

     “What is it?” Y/n asked her 

     “Your father passed.”

♱ ━━━ PREV SERIES M.LIST NEXT

♱ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

♱ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[ladydaybreaker]

Swap AU idea #2 Age/Role swap!

As promised...@traumatizedartist here's your ping! @electronix-arts thought you'd like to see this too :3

Khan's breath misted as he made his way through the bunker, another day where he'd been pulled from school because of his mother's…habits. He knew she was still not the same since his father died but this was starting to get ridiculous. He paused as he lay a hand on the door lock of his and his mother's apartment, listening.

Nothing.

Fear jolted through the white-eyed teenager's core as he quickly opened the door as fast as he could. The saying went: If a Doorman is quiet…look for the bomb.

"Mom!" Khan called as he burst into the apartment, eyes looking around. Nothing out of the ordinary. The living room was still a bit messy from the last project he and his mother had worked on, the kitchen was in shambles from his mother's disastrous attempt at cooking the other day…

And speaking of his mother…there she stood, her back to him as she stood over the workbench.

She was petite, pixie manic dream girl he'd heard someone call her once…before he put his fist through their screen. But that was years ago, details! Her left leg was currently bound in a splint and cast, busted up from a scuffle at the doors with a Murder Drone trying to get in the other day. Her hair was short, electrofied in wavy curls that refused to lay flat…something that they both had shared. Which was more than her dress style…that being of an old band hoodie, warmed with faux fur at the edges and a tattered old beanie that had most definitely seen better days.

Upon hearing his voice, the violet haired drone's head snapped up and she whipped around to face him with an almost manic look in her hollowed eyes.

"Oh no…she's on one of her stints again…" Khan mentally braced himself as he shrugged off his bag and his coat, hanging them both neatly up on the coatrack, "Heeeey, Mom, you doing ok? Keeping busy since the doc told you to stay in the apartment while your leg healed?"

"Doc can bite me," his mother huffed, "Doesn't know what he's doing in the first place."

"Aw, c'mon, Mom…Dr. Thad's a good guy! He seems to care about you an-"

"Are you trying to set me up again, Khan?" his mother closed an eye and waggled her wrench at him, "I keep telling you, your father was the only drone who could keep up with me and I'm damn convinced that nothing is going to come even close to that."

"Could keep your temper in check too," Khan muttered softly.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Anyways…they called saying you…uh…whacked Mrs. Vickers with your crutch."

"Deserved."

"Mom."

"What?! No one calls my kid boring and a know-it-all but me." his mother huffed, "And she keeps wanting me to go to those stupid parent teacher conferences which only tell me stuff I already know. That my kid's a good kid and that he does what he's supposed to. Like a nerd."

Khan closed an eye, his mother just gave a sharp, impish grin and a gremlin cackle before she went back to her work.

"Besides." she continued, "Like mother like son, huh? Magnetic photon converger isn't going to build itself."

"Wh-" Khan shook his head, "Mom, why are you building a railgun!?"

"Because it's sick as hell and I can," came the reply as she held up said weapon and looked down the scope, "Hiding isn't going to do us any good. Trapped like rats," she took a part he didn't see and firmly, loudly slapped it into place, "Hiding below the ice like cowards. I'm tired of it. Those things killed your father and our best friends. And I'm not letting them get away with it."

"Mom…Dad, Aunt Doll and Uncle Braiden wouldn't have wanted you t-"

"What? Hide down here? Act like their deaths meant nothing?"

Ah…there was the other saying…

The only thing worse than a bored Doorman is one that has something to prove. And even worse is one with an axe to grind.

And Uzi Doorman had many axes.

[corrodedseraphine]

you are not alone | one shot

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

story based on a request by a lovely anon: Steve works as a nurse and lives in a two bedroom apartment. He decided to put out an ad for a roommate and the reader finds it. She’s in desperate need of a place to stay after her father dies. It was just the two of them and she has to use almost all the money she makes working to pay off remaining medical bills.

The reader and Steve have a falling out within the first month of her living there but he keeps her around because she pays her part of the rent and keeps to herself. The two of them are usually throwing digs at one another.

Steve doesn’t realize the reader is going through so much financial stress and the loss of her father. She works two jobs (diner and bar) and is gone a lot. However, Steve starts to notice she hardly eats and sleeps and it’s taking a toll on her health.

One night when Steve gets home from his shift at the hospital he finds the reader fell asleep sitting at the bar in the kitchen. He goes up and puts his hand on her back to wake her and she gets startled. Steve steadies her and tries to calm her down. She’s still disoriented and dizzy. Steve carries her to the sofa and tries to check her vitals but she pushes him away. He lectures her for not eating and makes her eat something before letting her go to bed.

A few weeks later the reader gets sick and is really weak, so Steve takes care of her even though she tells him to leave her alone. In her vulnerable state she finally tells Steve what’s been going on.

An enemies to friends type of story with a soft and caring Steve once he realizes she needs help. angst, slight enemies to lovers, and they were roommates trope, fluff in the end, modern!AU

7 830 words

the one shot is also avaliable on ao3

TW: mentions of: death, family member loss

Dear anon, thank you for your request and I really hope you won't be disappointed!

(I know you requested enemies to friends but I made it lovers instead, because the hopeless romantic inside me is desperate, I'm sorry)

steve harrington masterlist | general masterlist

"Aaand here's for another failed date." Eddie smirked and tilted the shot into his mouth, immediately followed by Robin, Steve and Chrissy.

"I'm so damn tired of this, man." Steve said and slumped helplessly on a soft chair in the corner of the living room. "Everything looks the same, movie, dinner, after dinner we go to my place, have sex and the magic is gone, she sneaks out in the middle of the night and the next day she doesn't answer any messages."

"Maybe you're too desperate?" Robin asked, he sent her a questioning look. "Think about it, it is said that true love comes suddenly and unexpectedly, while you, on the contrary, catch on to anything that moves."

"Robin!" Chrissy jabbed her in the arm.

"What!"

"Be nice!" the blonde rolled her eyes. "Maybe Steve has already met someone who will turn out to be more than a hook-up, and he doesn't know it? Look at us, all through high school we didn't exchange a word with each other, and now I can't imagine a day without your voice." She kissed her girlfriend on the forehead.

"You guys are disgusting." Steve scoffed.

"And you're jealous." replied Robin pulling Chrissy to her and kissing her deeply.

"Ah, ladies! Please spare poor Harrington tonight!" laughed Eddie, filling the glasses anew.

"Thank you, Eddie!" exclaimed the brunette immediately reaching for one. "Can we change the subject?"

"How's your roommate? Doesn't she mind your guests?" asked the metalhead.

"Nope." He waved his free hand and after a moment he brought up a shot. "She's practically not at home at all, and when she comes back it's at night and she sleeps, but when we see each other, exceptionally, she annoys me to the core."

"Why?"

"She constantly walks around fuming, looking at me as if I've committed a crime and getting any word out of her verges on the most miraculous."

"Maybe you made a bad first impression?"

"Then why didn't she refuse when I said she could move in?"

"I don't know, you said she looked desperate."

"It's like I'm living with a ghost who wakes up once every few days and slithers around the apartment in misery."

"Why does it bother you so much that she's quiet?" asked Chrissy suddenly.

"Yeah, blondie is right, I think it's better to have a quiet roommate than to have her be loud, insufferable and pick on everything. Especially the fact that you bring a different girl into your apartment every now and then." Eddie added.

"Oh my God, he's so annoyed because he wants her to talk to him, he wants more than just conversation!" Robin jumped up on the couch as if she had made the discovery of the year. "He likes her!"

"Oh fuck you! All of you!" the other three didn't miss the fact that he didn't deny Robin's theory, but decided to leave the subject for now.

The first month in the new apartment passed extremely quickly. Actually, you didn't quite feel the effects of moving out. Everything seemed to be behind a fog, and the days flew through your fingers turning into nights, and so on and so forth. The only thing that seemed painfully real was the longing and pain. These were the only things that reminded you that you were alive.

As you danced with a tray between tables at a nearby diner from early morning, and later in the evening served drinks to enamored couples at the bar, you didn't have much time to mourn. But that didn't change the fact that the void left in your life was heavy. As heavy as your eyelids, which began to close at the mere sight of your bed. Usually you don't even remember the moment you fall asleep, but today it wasn't so easy.

When you saw that the beginning nurse was looking for a roommate you thought you had managed to find someone calm and quiet. Unfortunately, reality turned out to be different. The frequent sounds of pleasure coming from his bedroom were not usually a problem for you, you quickly learned to simply ignore them or drown them out with music or a podcast. Nor were you bothered by the frequent visits of his friends, who brought chaos and disorder every time, not caring about the silence. Most of the time you weren't in the apartment at all because you were at work, but today they decided to have a movie night, which started with an argument about the choice of movie. Knowing that you wouldn't fall asleep with such entertainment, you exasperatedly got out of bed pulling on your sweatpants.

When you left the room everyone went silent and looked at you. You could see from their faces that they were just waiting for you to start shouting at them, but even though you really wanted to do it at that moment, you didn't have the strength. Exhausted after several hours of hard work as always, you didn't have the strength to do anything, so you passed them without a word, ignoring their attempts to say hello and offers to join them, and left the apartment. With a quick step, you went to the pharmacy located near your apartment, stocked up on a new pack of sleeping pills and went back to your place.

"Hey, y/n!" called out one of the younger boys, from what you associated was probably named Dustin. "Can you help us choose? Iron Man or the Amazing Spider-Man?"

You just rolled your eyes and, leaving him without an answer, went back to your room slamming the door behind you. Taking your pills you started getting ready for sleep again.

Lying in the darkness you listened to the conversation of Steve and his friends.

"See? She can't even say one word, I honestly can barely remember what her voice sounds like!" he said irritated.

"Come on, she looked tired." replied a female voice.

"Tired or not, she could at least answer! Out of politeness!"

"Let's just start the movie."

Then the voices quieted, and your thoughts grew louder. You thought about yourself from a few months ago.

The former you would have answered Dustin's question without hesitation and gladly accepted the invitation to join.

The former you would have been able to chat for hours with Steve from the very beginning and not push away every possible interaction on his part.

You knew it irritated him, he couldn't hide it. Every attempt to have any kind of conversation with you ended in failure, every attempt to get to know you better - spurned. You were not surprised by it. You were sure that the former you and your new roommate would get along very well. It's even possible that the former you would have noticed how his honey-colored eyes curiously followed you when you left the room, maybe she would have noticed the charming smile he sent you during the first days of your living together, and would have appreciated his willingness and interest in you. It is likely that the former you would also have taken an interest in Steve's person, in many ways. However, the former you no longer existed.

The present you was overtired and there was not a shred of energy in her.

The present you had far bigger worries than the handsome boy sitting behind the wall, whose sweet smiles turned into grimaces of annoyance and disgust.

Holding back the tears that rushed to your eyes, you looked at your phone. Six hours of sleep. You snuggled your face into your pillow hoping to fall asleep as soon as possible thanks to the pills. Lately, every minute of sleep was at a premium for you.

Days passed and the tension between you and Steve grew. He was irritated by the lack of willingness to communicate on your part, and you were irritated by the fact that he was irritated. Without actually saying too many words to each other, sometimes one unpleasant glance was enough for one or both of you to feel a strange surge of negative emotions. The climax turned out to be Saturday, when you were getting ready for your evening shift at the bar.

You were walking through the living room holding a glass of Coke in your hand when you tripped over one of the nursing textbooks scattered on the floor. A moment later, all that was heard was the sound of glass on the floor and a rather hard fall.

"What the fuck Steve?!" you exclaimed, looking down at your soaked clothes.

"What happened?" he ran out of the bathroom.

"I tripped over your stupid book! Is it so hard to clean up after yourself?"

"I'm studying, I just went to the bathroom for a moment!"

"And leaving your books on the floor was a great idea!" you said standing up.

"If you had watched where you were going nothing would have happened!" he tried to defend himself.

"If you had kept things in order then nothing would have happened!"

"How could I have known that just now you would mercifully leave the room?! I'm used to you not leaving it for a second!"

"Go to Hell Harrington!" you yelled.

"Feels like I am already in it!" he yelled back, grabbed his books and went to his room.

Angry, you changed your clothes and picked up the glass, then quickly mopped the floor after the spilled drink.

Despite the fact that you had already left the apartment and left him alone in it, Steve felt bad about this whole situation. He didn't know quite whether he was angry, disappointed or tired. Sitting over textbooks for several hours never worked well for him, and arguing with you made him even more upset.

Sighing deeply, he grabbed his phone, where a Tinder notification popped up on the screen. The beautiful long-haired blonde on the screen was smiling broadly at him, he didn't even remember when he swiped her to the right. Each successive match on the app was more and more meaningless to him, despite the fact that he could spend hours there looking for "the one". Eventually everything started to blend together, he could no longer remember what he was saying to whom and what he wasn't, remembering names wasn't his advantage either. He looked at the girl's profile for a while longer, but he decided that he definitely didn't feel like going on a date tonight. Instead he went to the kitchen and took out a full bottle of rum from the refrigerator. Putting it by his face, he took a picture and sent it to the group chat.

Steve the Stupidest: wanna join?

Eddie the Dumbest: my place in 20 minutes?

Chrissy the Sweetest: count us in!

Robin the Smartest: do we need to bring something?

Eddie the Dumbest: your asses to my house lol

Eddie the Dumbest: and snacks

Eddie the Dumbest: I won't let you in without snacks

"You told her that living with her is like living in hell?" Chrissy asked shocked.

"I didn't say it directly! I just said it felt that way!" Steve tried to defend himself. The bottle of rum was emptied in no time and, as standard, Steve brought the tracks back to you.

"Which is exactly the same as if you literally said 'Life with you is like hell." Robin rolled her eyes and threw popcorn at him.

"The real question is do you really feel that way?" asked Eddie.

"No." he answered without thinking. "But it's not heaven either! I don't know what it is, no one gets on my nerves like she does, but I on the other hand..." he didn't finish the sentence.

"I'm still of the opinion that you like her but for some strange reason you're acting like an eight-year-old and instead of admitting it, you're telling yourself that all you feel is annoyance." Robin said.

"I think you two would make an adorable couple." interjected Chrissy.

"Until she would kill me with a single stare." If the relationship between you two was better and more friendly, maybe he wouldn't even try to deny Robin's words.

"You're not in Heaven or Hell, so you could say you're roommates from Purgatory," laughed Eddie. "The only question is which way you'll go, up or down?"

"I have a strange feeling it's going dooown."

Even if the disagreement between you was still present, Steve had no plans to kick you out of the apartment. You always paid everything on time, did not interfere in his life, and, apart from occasional exchanges of words, did not cause any major problems. Over time, however, the atmosphere of irritation began to fade and was replaced by an acceptance of the fact that there would not even be a friendship between you. Not wanting to get in each other's way, you communicated with one another only on necessary matters.

That didn't change the fact that Steve was still observing you, and what he saw was beginning to worry him. Your pale face, blackened eyes and hunched posture betrayed your physical exhaustion. He also noticed that you weren't preparing any meals for yourself at all. In fact, he probably hadn't seen you cook anything once yet since you moved in. Sometimes when he prepared food for himself he would specifically make more to see if you would take what was left, but you never did a single time.

The autumn weather was not one of the best, it was definitely the type of weather during which the only thing to do was to wrap up in a warm blanket, turn on a favorite TV series and drink a big mug of hot chocolate. That was the plan that popped into Steve's head when he walked into the apartment after a long and tiring shift at the hospital.

Putting down his rain-wet umbrella in the hallway, he pulled off his jacket and hung it on a hanger. To his surprise, your jacket was also hanging there. This surprised him because you were always still at work at this hour. Walking deeper into the apartment he saw you sitting at the kitchen counter, your hands and head were resting on its surface. Without saying hello, he entered the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, thinking only about the chicken salad he had made yesterday. When out of the corner of his eye he didn't notice any movement on your part he turned to look at you. Only from this perspective could he see that you were asleep. In your numb hand thete was a mug of tea.

"Y/n?" he asked quietly. You didn't respond. He slowly took the mug out of your hand. The tea in it was already cold. How long had you been sitting there like this? Concerned, he placed his hand on your back and repeated your name several more times.

Awakened, you jumped up on the bar stool almost falling off it, fortunately your roommate reacted quickly enough to prevent this and hold you up.

"Hey, it's just me, just Steve." he said, and furrowed his brow. His voice was calm and a little quieter than usual. "Are you all right? Are you feeling sick?" he asked, and instinctively began to bring his hand closer to your forehead to check for signs of fever, but you, seeing this, immediately pulled away and jumped off the stool. This, unfortunately, was not the best idea, as you were still disoriented by your sudden awakening, and prolonged fatigue and irregular, not very hearty meals definitely weakened your body causing dizziness, which you also felt now and lost your balance.

"Woah!" the brunette once again grabbed your shoulders protecting you from falling. "Come on, sit down on the couch." this time without objection you moved towards the couch which stood nearby, due to the fact that your living room was connected to the kitchen. Steve followed you step by step supporting you. He kept one hand on your back and the other on your arm. "Are you sick? dizzy?" he began to ask when you sat down.

"I'm fine, Steve, just tired." you said, hoping he would give you a break. Meanwhile, a gurgling sound came from your stomach.

"And probably hungry." he raised one eyebrow.

"Just want to go to sleep." you scoffed.

"I have some chicken salad left over, I won't be able to eat it all myself, and it would be a shame to throw it away, maybe you'd like some?" he offered, carefully watching your reaction. He was increasingly convinced that during the day you either eat nothing, or so little that your body can barely manage to provide you with any energy to function. However, given your distant relationship, he couldn't just bombard you with questions and force you to eat like he would have done with Robin or Dustin. He had to do it slowly and calmly.

"Yeah, okay." you said quietly as the gurgling of your stomach resounded a second time.

He immediately went back to the fridge and quickly put the food on plates hoping you wouldn't notice that you got a larger portion. Handing you a plate, he sat down next to you and turned on the TV, the sound of which filled the silence between you.

"That was really good, thank you." you said quietly.

"No problem, I'm glad I didn't have to throw it away." he smiled slightly. "Feeling better?" he asked.

In response, you only nodded your head. You got up from the couch and picked up the plates to wash them, his eyes were following your movements to the kitchen.

Watching you, he thought about the fact that this was your first meal together since you moved in. Satisfied with the result that it didn't end in an argument or that you didn't reject his offer, he felt a little more confident. This small success pushed him forward, so when you started washing the dishes, he decided to take a chance.

"What did you eat at work today?" the question knocked you out a bit.

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm just curious." He shrugged his shoulders, but you didn't see it because you were standing with your back turned.

"A sandwich." you replied not thinking much. You felt strange with the fact that this was your first conversation not about bills or household chores. The first one you had actually allowed him to have.

"Only?"

"I didn't have time at work to eat."

"One sandwich all day? Are you crazy? You need to eat more!" And so much for calmness and slowness. He knew he shouldn't get carried away and didn't want it to sound like an attack, but unfortunately it was too late. Why did he care this much about you awnyway? All the walls that you lowered down for that brief moment rose again.

"I'm fine." you said dryly clenching your teeth.

"I found you sleeping on the kitchen counter, it's obvious that you're overtired and hardly eat anything at all, do you even take care of yourself in any way?"

"It's none of your business." Suddenly all the fatigue is gone from you, replaced, by anger, instead. Who did he think he was to lecture you?

"You are irresponsible." he concluded and got up from the couch.

"Just shut up, Steve, you're not my father to lecture me." You replied in an overtired voice.

"Then maybe you should call him and make him realize that his daughter can't take care of herself!" He was already heading towards his room, but suddenly, he was stopped by the clatter of dishes. He noticed how your shoulders were moving faster and faster, picking up the pace of your breathing. You turned off the water and, without a word, walked away from the sink, standing straight in front of him. Your eyes were big and full of tears, looking at him with a condemning gaze.

"You have no right to say that." You said through your teeth and, without waiting for an answer, disappeared into your room, leaving him alone in a big shock.

That night, instead of his favorite TV series, all he could focus on were the quiet sobs coming from behind the wall and the guilt they caused. He had no idea which of his actions made you cry, and it didn't really matter which. Despite the fact that, in his opinion, he didn't say anything awful in your direction, he felt awful.

Steve the Stupidest: I made her cry

Chrissy the Sweetest: what???? what happened?

Steve the Stupidest: I don't know, we were eating salad together, I asked her what she had eaten at work, she said that only a sandwich, so I got a little carried away and told her that she can't take care of herself, and now I can hear her crying

Robin the Smartest: oh damn

Steve the Stupidest: should I go to her?

Eddie the Dumbest: I don't think she wants to see you now, dude

Robin the Smartest: Eddie is right, let her calm down

Robin the Smartest: and tell everything that happened with details

Autumn brings with itself many changes, one of which may be unexpected illness. The first thing you felt this morning was an unpleasant itching in your throat, the second was a terrible cold, which made you decide to dress a little warmer for work today. Unfortunately, you felt worse and worse by the minute, but adult life can be brutal and you couldn't just not go to work today.

Around noon Steve came home from the hospital, but before he could open the door to the apartment his phone vibrated in his pocket.

"Hello?"

"Come to Benny's, quick." Robin said in a serious voice.

When he arrived in front of the diner, Chrissy was waiting for him with a worried expression on her face.

"What happened?" he asked running up to the girl.

"y/n fainted, Robin and I came in for lunch and when she was carrying our order she just fainted, she said there was no one to help her so Robin said we'll call you-" the words left her mouth at the speed of light.

"Hey, take it easy." he grabbed her by the shoulders. "Where is she?"

"In the back room with Robin and Benny."

With a quick step he walked inside and moments later he was already at your side watching you with a worried face. You looked even worse than last time, which caused him alarmed. Sitting leaning against the white wall, you were almost as pale as it was.

"Let's get you home, okay?" he asked crouching down in front of you.

"I don't have a home." you muttered while burying your face in your hands. "I can't leave, my shift hasn't ended."

"It has ended and the next one won't start until you feel better." said Benny in a harsh tone.

"Benny please." you whined.

"No discussion, get her out of here Steve."

Reluctantly, you walked back to his BMW feeling the gaze of the other three on you all the time, but now you didn't even have the strength to be annoyed with them. Despite the fact that your shift at the diner ended a few hours sooner, you still had to go to your evening shift at the bar, so you wanted to be in your room as soon as possible so you could take a nap before that.

You didn't even remember when you fell asleep, you were pulled out of the darkness by the sound of your alarm clock, which announced that it was time to start getting ready for your shift at the bar. The worst part of it all was that you didn't feel any better.

Slowly and lifelessly you walked out of the room, Steve was standing in the kitchen over a big pot of soup. When he heard the sound of the door opening he turned toward you and smiled slightly.

"I made the soup, the best for a cold, I got the recipe from Robin's grandmother, I'm sure you'll like it, it just needs to boil for a while," he said.

"I'm not hungry." you lied, at the very smell you were drooling but you didn't have time to eat anymore.

"Come on, at least try."

"I don't have time Steve, I have to get ready and go to work." you sighed.

"You're kidding right?" He stood motionless and looked at you in disbelief, and you looked at him with a questioning expression. "A few hours ago you blacked out and now you want to go to work, are you crazy?"

"Don't dramatize."

"Dramatize? Listen to yourself, what's wrong with you?"

"Everything!" you snapped. "Not everyone has a wonderful life full of friends and and rich parents who transfer dollars to your account every month! Do you think life makes me happy? Some people have to work two shifts to make their own living! Some people have other expenses besides just living!" your outburst of anger made you feel increasingly weak, but your voice was still loud. Loud enough for every word to reach him without interference. "You work in a hospital, so you know how much medical bills cost! So I'm sorry Steve, but I won't eat your soup, I have to go to work so I can afford to pay your rent next month!"

Shaken up, you walked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind you. Why does it all have to be so difficult? Clenching your eyes tightly, a loud sob came from your mouth. Much louder than you wanted. Helplessly you slumped to the floor and just let the tears flow. You were sick, tired, sad, angry and lost, everything was against you.

After a while, the bathroom door opened and Steve appeared in it with a broken look on his face.

"I'm sorry." He said, kneeling beside you.

"It's not your fault." you said while wiping away tears. "Everything is just too much."

"I didn't know anything about the hospital bills, are you ill? do you need funding for treatment?" honey eyes studied your face carefully, the warmth that emanated from him made you want to cling to him.

"They are not mine."

"Are you paying for someone?" he asked puzzled.

"My dad was very sick-" you said quietly.

"Was?"

Nothing was your answer. The pain in your eyes spoke for itself.

"Jesus, y/n…" before he could think what he was doing his arms had already begun to embrace you, and you let him. You felt as if he was keeping you from falling apart. After a while, your breathing slowed down, and your body was no longer shaken by waves of crying. "I'm so fucking sorry, I didn't know anything." he muttered into your hair.

"I really have to go to work, Steve." you replied weakly, already a bit calmer.

"You can't go there like this, you're all burned up."

"If I don't go I won't be able to pay you on time." You sighed and extricated yourself from his grasp.

"You'll pay me later, it won't be a problem." he replied without thinking. "Stay, please." he said seeing your uncertain reaction. "I swear that if you pay later, nothing will happen. It won't be a problem."

"Thank you." you replied. "I'll go call that I won't be there."

"And I'll get us some soup." he beamed. His smile was contagious as it also appeared on your face despite your nasty mood. When you returned to the living room there were two large bowls filled to the brim on the coffee table.

"Fancy a movie?" he asked.

"Yeah, okay." you replied surprised, you weren't expecting this proposal. Although he was probably even more surprised and didn't expect you to agree. "What are we going to watch?"

"I don't know, what do you like?"

"And you?" you asked, not wanting to impose something of your own.

"Star Wars?"

"I've never watched, it can be."

"Wait, what? Seriously, it's a classic!"

"Such a film connoisseur of you?" you laughed.

"You still haven't answered my question about what you like."

"Disney is definitely my definition of comfort movies."

"for example?"

"Beauty and the Beast, Princess and the Frog, Tangled, Coco…"

"I haven't watched any of them." he shrugged his shoulders.

"And who's talking about not knowing the classics?!" you pretended to be disgusted.

"I propose a compromise, one part of Star Wars for one Disney movie, I think we both have a lot of catching up to do."

"Deal."

Steve Harrington was a ray of sunshine. From the moment you decided to stop fencing yourself off with thick curtains your life became much warmer and brighter. Your life together changed completely, even though you still had to work two shifts and felt physically tired, your mental state was definitely relieved. When your roommate got to know your situation and understood what you were struggling with, his attitude also changed. This time, all the quiet days and sad looks were not perceived as an attack. Instead, whenever you returned tired after work there was a warm meal waiting for you and an even warmer smile that caused a strange tingling in your stomach.

The more you got to know each other, the more you couldn't hold back the feeling of attraction to him. He was a person from whom a safe warmth radiated, a warmth that not only warmed your cold hands when they accidentally touched his, but also your soul. A soul that had long been a cold and empty hollow. He lit the first tiny sparks in it that made life and emotions awaken in you anew.

By opening up to his presence in your life, you found the courage to grieve. He was the perfect friend. Funny, caring and trustworthy. Day by day you got to know each other better and better, telling him about what happened with your dad you allowed in the feelings that you had kept locked up for an awfully long time.

One day was especially difficult when your dad's birthday arrived. All day the weight of your heart was unbearable, people at work gave you an extremely hard time, so as soon as you closed the apartment door behind you, you burst into tears. Some time ago you would have held it in until you disappeared into your room, but you couldn't help how Steve made the house become home. A home where you didn't have to be afraid to show your feelings.

Hearing you groggy in the hallway he immediately came out to greet you, wanting to show off the new dish he had managed to prepare today. Unfortunately, seeing your condition, all his enthusiasm disappeared.

"What happened?" he asked quietly. His eyes scanned your entire body in search of any apparent reason for crying, but he immediately understood that what was hurting you was not a physical issue at all. Not having the strength to respond you moved quickly in front of him and he simply followed you. You sat down on the bed clenching your face in your hands, after a while the mattress bent under his weight.

"Hey, it's okay." he whispered placing a hand on your shoulder. "Come." He pulled you gently back.

Leaning against the headrest of the bed, he pulled you close, and you fell right into his arms. You cuddled your face into the soft sweater sobbing like a small child. Large hands gently traced paths of comfort on your back and arms. He stroked you as if you were a small, wounded and helpless animal, and he wanted at all costs not to hurt you even more. Your pain was breaking his heart, but he knew the feeling when crying is the only thing that can bring relief, so he didn't interrupt you.

Over the past time, he got to know you much better than he ever would have expected. He saw in you something more than a silent energy filled with fatigue and perpetual irritation. He saw in you a beautiful but broken soul. He saw a heart of gold that was shattered to pieces. He saw how funny you were and what a great conversation companion you could be. He was surprised by your sensitivity, which you initially hid under a mask of oppressiveness. When you broke down the armored wall you surrounded yourself with at the beginning of your acquaintance, Steve met a completely different person, someone in whom he was beginning to see more than just a roommate. With each step you continued to become friends, but he couldn't ignore the thought that he wanted something more.

From people who avoided each other like fire you became a team. You did everything together as much as possible when you both happened to find some free time. Meals together, cleaning together and going shopping together. Movie marathons and evenings spent talking all added up to the beauty of domestication. But-

What if you could lay cuddled up together while watching movies?

What if he could kiss every tear from your cheeks that fall when you get emotional at a Disney movie?

What if you could come up from behind and snuggled into his back while he was preparing dinner for you?

What if while shopping he could hold a shopping bag in one hand and your hand in the other one?

What if seeking comfort in his arms after a hard day at work was the first thing you would do when you got home?

All the what ifs in his head had been swirling around for a long time and were incredibly overwhelming, especially when you were close, yet he couldn't muster the courage to do more.

For the moment, you had more serious things on your mind, and he didn't know how to help you, despite his great desire to do so. Lost in his thoughts and focused to give you as much comfort as possible, he didn't notice when you calmed down. Your breathing was now even and your eyes closed. Thinking you had fallen asleep he settled down a bit and rested his cheek against the top of your head. With the hand that he used to embrace your back he pressed you even tighter against him, and with the other he grabbed the hand that lay on his chest.

"Today is his birthday." you said weakly.

Not expecting you to be awake for a moment panic swept through him, he quickly drew in air and tensed all over waiting for your reaction. Seeing that you still remained motionless, he relaxed, and you continued speaking. "Every year we used to spend this whole day with his best friend and his family. They invited me to join them today to continue the tradition, but I can't- It hurts too much."

"You don't have to go there if you don't feel ready, it's understandable to feel that way." he replied.

"What if I'm never ready? What if it will always hurt like this?"

"Even if time doesn't heal the wounds, you will learn to live with them. And even though moments like now will happen from time to time, you won't be alone with them. You are not alone."

His words went straight to your heart, they were something you needed at that moment.

"Thank you." You said hugging him even tighter.

"Always here for you." he muttered.

The silence that surrounded you and the last rays of the setting sun coming through the window were soothing. Your hearts began to beat out the same calm and steady rhythm that you could feel under your hand. Focusing on the gentle beats, a peace began to envelop you that you hadn't felt since your dad became ill. As the orange glow of the ending day slowly turned into blanketing darkness neither of you wanted to move so as not to scare away such a beautiful and peaceful moment. Desperately clinging to the closeness that existed between you both fell asleep, not worrying about the awkwardness that would come with the morning.

Unfortunately, the night passed all too quickly. When you woke up you were lying in bed alone. Trying to run away from the feeling of disappointment about this, you reluctantly pushed the quilt aside and focused on preparing for work. Entering the living room, you were greeted by a platter of warm scrambled eggs and a mug of coffee.

"I'm going on the night shift tonight, so I thought maybe we could at least have breakfast together." he said sitting down at the table.

"Sounds like a great plan." You replied with a smile. Over the course of the meal you lost yourself in pleasant conversation about everyday life. Steve also talked about his plans for the weekend, where he wanted to take Dustin to a concert by his favorite band.

"And uh- I have something for you." he said when you finished eating. He walked over to his backpack and took out some documents from it, which he slipped to you. "You don't have to do anything with this, but I thought you might want to think about it. I talked to some people at the hospital and they said your situation qualifies for a subsidy on your dad's medical bills." You looked at him with your eyes wide open, he couldn't make out much emotion from your expression, which made him start to get nervous, fearing that you were about to explode with anger. "I know, I'm sorry I talked to strangers about you, you have the right to be angry with me, but I really just wanted to help, this subsidy will cover most of the bills, of course if you need help to figure it all out, I can help you with everything, but I understand if you don't want-"

His rant was interrupted by your arms tightening around his stomach. When the moment of surprise passed he reciprocated the hug.

"Thank you." you said.

"You are welcome." He beamed.

"Let's talk about it tomorrow after we're both off work?""

"Sure." The smile didn't leave his face.

"I have to go now, thank you for breakfast. Have a good day, Steve."

"You too, y/n."

For him, it was the win of the day.

When taking on the job as a nurse, Steve was aware that some moments would be extremely hard in the job. However, he did not expect them to come so quickly and suddenly. Nor did he expect that the first such moment would be so drastic.

Road accidents were the order of the day, so when he got the call to assist in the operation of one of the injured he approached it with composure as always. What he didn't expect, however, was to find a teenage girl lying on the table in critical condition. Despite the best efforts of the entire rescue team, the injuries sustained in the accident were too extensive and she died during the operation. On his way out of the room, all he could hear was the shrill cry of despair of a mother who would never hug her own daughter again. That sound refused to leave his head until the end of his shift.

After returning home, exhausted by today's experiences, he fell asleep on the couch. Unfortunately, even in sleep his psyche was not merciful. His brain replayed nightmares over and over again, which, instead of resting, tormented him even more.

When you returned to the apartment the first thing you noticed was Steve sleeping on the couch. Today, for the first time in a very long time, he was not waiting for you with a meal ready. Determining that he was probably too tired, you quietly walked over to the couch and covered him with a blanket. Your attention did not miss the furrowed brow and the anxious expression on his face. Hesitating for a moment, you decided not to intervene and went to the kitchen, stating that today it was your turn to cook something. In the middle of cutting vegetables, Steve suddenly jumped on the couch breathing heavily.

"Hey, what's going on?" you quickly walked over to him and crouched down across from him. He was in shock, his eyes in a panic trying to recognize the environment he was in, and his breathing was speeding up instead of slowing down. "Steve, hey." you tried to get his attention.

"My phone. Where's my phone?" he sprang to his feet and began a frantic search for the device. He found it in his jacket pocket and immediately started dialing a number. "Dustin? Dustin are you okay?" he asked after a few beeps.

"Yes, why?" replied the confused boy.

"I just- I'm sorry. Glad you are okay."

"What the hell Steve?"

"I have to go, bye." He hung up and clasped his hand around the phone while leaning his head against the wall.

"Steve?" approached him slowly. "What's going on?"

"It's just a hard day at work…" He sighed.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He nodded and together you went to sit on the couch. There he told you about the situation. The longer he spoke, the more his voice broke down and words struggled to pass through his throat.

"When I was sleeping, I had-I had a nightmare. Instead of this girl, there was Dustin. I had to make sure he was okay-" it was his breaking point.

The sight was painful. It was hard to look at a person who can bring so much warmth, light and joy into someone's life in a state of sadness. Steve was like sunshine to you, sunshine that was now covered by dark clouds and raindrops that dripped down his cheeks. Before you had time to think your body reacted faster, and you were already halfway to hugging him. He accepted this form of reassurance without hesitation, and, drawing you closer to him, you landed in his lap, while he snuggled his face into the bend of your neck.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through all this." you said quietly stroking his hair. "And Dustin is fine, he is fine, you are not gonna lose him."

"I can't lose him-"

"And you won't." You didn't let him finish his sentence. You moved him away from you so that you could look at each other and took his face in your hands, wiping away the tear tracks with your thumbs. "And remember that you are not alone with your problems Steve Harrington, and you will not be alone."

Honey-colored irises looked right through your soul. However, after a while they began to take a different course. Slowly and uncertainly they went along your nose to stop at your lips. Suddenly his hands, which were now on the indentation of your waist, began to burn. Yet it was not a painful burning. The warmth was addictive, you wanted to feel more of it, you wanted to feel it all over your body. Your foreheads rested against each other and your noses brushed, lips were separated by millimeters when the magic was interrupted by his phone.

Like a burnt woman, you jumped off his lap, and he went to his room with the phone, not knowing how to deal with what had just happened between you.

Would you let him kiss you?

This thought focused all his attention, and all he understood from his conversation with his supervisor was that tomorrow was his day off.

"Would you mind going for a walk?" you asked when he returned to the living room.

"Sure."

The autumn air was not the hottest, but the warm sweaters you were wearing adequately protected you from it. The setting sun was a beautiful orange color quite like the leaves quietly crunching under your shoes. Steve wordlessly followed you, not even focusing on the road. Walking in your company seemed to be a good cure for shattered nerves, especially since the scenery was equally soothingly beautiful. On the way to your destination, you made a brief stop at a flower shop, not far from the cemetery. At that moment he knew what your destination was.

"It's okay if you don't feel like going there." You said stopping in front of the gate.

"No, it's fine." he replied and moved ahead.

"This place…I found a weird peace in here for the first few days after my dad died." you explained as you approached the grave. You placed a flower on it.

Steve did not respond. But you were right, the place was surrounded by a strange atmosphere of calm. The falling nightfall sharpened the burning candles. Their rays were small but warm, and together they created a solemn scenery. He associated the flames with the emotions you stirred in his heart. Emotions that were bubbling up inside him and begging him to let them out. Emotions that he no longer had the strength to keep inside, and despite the fact that the cemetery was the last place to confess love, he decided to do so.

"Thank you." he said finally.

"For what?" you asked turning your face toward him.

"Letting me in."

"Thank you for being patient enough." The smile with which you answered this was also as warm as the lights burning in front of you.

"I think I'm falling in love with you."

He expected shock, anger, laughter on your part. He expected each of the worst reactions. However, he did not expect the calmness with which you accepted what he said. He didn't expect your hand intertwining your fingers and the other landing gently on his cheek.

"I think I'm falling in love with you too, Steve." you whispered.

That was enough for him to lean in and bring your lips together. The kiss, at first shy and gentle, deepened into something passionate and filled with relief that something that was supposed to have happened a long time ago was finally happening. It was as if everything had suddenly found its rightful place in the universe.

As you pulled away from each other, he spun you around so that your back rested against his chest and your arms locked in a bear hug. With a wide smile and tears of happiness in your eyes, you looked at your father's grave.

"Thank you." you said quietly.

"It's me who thanks you." he whispered in your ear.

"It wasn't to you." you giggled, and he made a confused sound. "It was to Dad."

"Oh."

"He placed a real angel in my path." You didn't have to wait long for a response. After a while, you were face to face again giving each other kisses interrupted by smiles.

"Let's go home." you whispered between kisses.

"Home?" he asked with hope in his voice.

"Home." You confirmed by kissing him again.

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