#just some small little cheap things 🥰

[tobbogan-13]

little small things I want for christmas 😊

-Lotion

-fuzzy socks

-more docs

-a black 1960s Chevrolet impala with red interior

-hairties

-a functioning brain

-a cat

-sweatpants

-Vivienne Westwood one row pearl drop choker

-tickets to gutenberg

-a trip to NYC

-Andrew Rannells

-A Candle

[aerynwrites]

Remember

Halsin x gn!Reader

A/N: thank you for the request @sabersandsnipers! I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy! See the request here.

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: kissing, love confessions, miscommunication, drunk reader, drunk confessions, morning hangovers/blurry memory, Halsin being a gentleman 🥰

The campfire burns brightly in the night, heating your already heated cheeks.

You all finally came across some good wine, pilfered from a wine cellar in a small abandoned town. Astarion practically melted as he read the labels. Practically glaring at you when you asked him what was so special.

“These are vintage darling. Practically liquid gold compared to the piss we’ve been drinking.”

Your other companions had happily helped tote crates of the stuff back to camp then, excited to finally indulge in the best, for once.

And it is the best. The best you’ve ever had for sure. At least in recent memory.

The wine is rich and decadent, passing your lips without that unpleasant burn the cheap stuff gives. It’s sweet and slides down easily - maybe a little too easily.

It turns your brain to figurative mush, your limbs starting to feel heavy despite the uncontrollable giggles slipping past your lips as Karlach acts out another one of her battle stories.

Your inhibitions have started to slip, especially those tied to your tongue. Because along with your giggles you’re unable to stop your flirtatious rambling to the druid sitting beside you at the fire. He is also taking part in the festivities, albeit more cautiously, only having had a single glass to your…

Well…you don’t know how many.

Another giggle slips past your lips as you lean into the man at your side, watching as Karlach flops down onto the ground in a reenactment of her downing an enemy. Wyll goes to help her up but is also unsteady on his feet and soon joins her in the dirt, both of them howling in laughter.

Halsin lets out a laugh of his own at their antics and you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your numb lips.

“I like your laugh,” you say, turning to look up at Halsin.

The man is taller than you even sitting down, so when he looks down to you, pieces of his hair fall forward into his face.

“My laugh?” He asks, a smile splitting his lips as he most likely finds enjoyment in your inebriated state.

You nod, leaning forward once more to rest your forehead against his chest, abandoning your goblet in favor of wrapping the man in a weak embrace.

“I just like you,” your words are slurred as you slump more into the larger man’s embrace. “And you smell good.”

Halsins chest rumbles with laughter beneath your cheek and it just further adds to the buzzing beneath your skin, even more so when you feel his hands grasp your arms gently.

Yet another thing you notice about him. His hands are calloused, roughened with years of using a weapon and tending the land and communing with nature. But he’s so…gentle. His smile, his words, his laugh, his entire being just screams safety.

It’s what draws you to him no matter how much you try to stay away. Which isn’t very much considering he has slowly started to reciprocate your attraction.

At least…you hope.

“I think it’s high time for you to get some rest,” Halsin says, moving to stand from his seat and guide you to do the same.

“What?” You ask, the world spinning slightly as you get to your feet. “But I’m having fun!”

The words are slurred as Halsin slips an arm around around your waist to steady you, slowly leading you away from the fire. You don’t miss the various whistles and hoots from your other companions as he does so.

Halsin smiles, not that you see it as you focus on putting one foot in front of the other as he leads you.

“I know you were, but it will be an ill-fated day tomorrow if you continue to drink.”

Despite your drunken state you recognize the wisdom in his words.

“You’re probably right, but -“ you pause as you struggle to take in your surroundings before you realize you’re being led away from your tent.

“Wait, my tent is that way,” you emphasize by pointing a staggering finger in the vague direction of your tent, a movement that causes your feet to twist up beneath you.

You would have fallen if it weren’t for the druid at your side stopping to catch you before opting to lift you into his arms instead.

“I know where your tent is located, but my tent is far closer.”

You hum in response, your head lolling backwards, eyes meeting the stars above you.

“I can walk, you know.”

Halsin laughs at this, shifting to support your head as he draws closer to his tent. “Your earlier attempts would disprove that statement.”

You pout your lip at him as he finally ducks into his tent. “You’re mean,” you say plainly.

“I apologize, little one.”

His words hold little apology but you don’t point it out as he finally lowers you to your feet, helping as you try to steady yourself. Only when he pulls away do you finally look up at him, and you take the moment of silence to take in the man before you.

He’s still smiling down at you, all while watching to make sure you keep your feet. His brows furrow slightly with every uneasy shift of your body, his hands tightening where they rest on your hips.

Without thinking you reach up, placing uncoordinated fingers against the scars that run over his brow. He stills at this, eyes widening for a moment before fluttering closed as you trail your fingers down. Your hand cups his cheek now, thumb running over where the scar ends just below his lips.

Lips you want nothing more than to kiss right now.

His eyes open then, as if sensing your questioning stare. You’ve both drifted closer to one another during this silent moment, your chests brushing together as you look up at him.

“Halsin?”

“Yes, my heart?”

Your breath stutters in your chest at the new nickname, and you can smell the faint scent of wine on his breath as he speaks.

“Can I kiss you?”

The words fall into silence, and you can practically feel the tension in the air dissipate as Halsin’s eyes close tightly, a sigh falling from his lips as he steps away from you slightly.

Your drunken mind moves before he speaks, making you stumble over your words.

“Oh that’s - I understand. I shouldn’t have asked, that was - I’m sorry I-“

Before you can ramble any further, Halsin has your face cradled in his hands, green eyes capturing your own.

“You misunderstand,” he tells you, thumbs brushing your cheek bones lightly. “I have wanted to kiss you, to touch you for longer than you can imagine,” he admits, eyes softening. “But I do not wish for our first kiss, our first coming together to be in the midst of a wine induced haze.”

He smiles.

“I want you to remember this, and I’m afraid in this state, you may wake tomorrow with no memory of tonight.” He moves to push a stray piece of hair from your face as one hand settles at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “I do not want to lose a moment with you.”

His words ease the anxiety roiling in your belly, and you find it in you to nod. The sentiment increases the heat in your cheeks once again.

Halsin smiles at your ascent, and gently leads you to bed. His bed roll is set up on top of a pile of furs which cradle your body perfectly where you all but flop onto it. Your earlier statement of not being tired is quickly erased as your eyelids begin to shut, sleep tugging at your mind as you settle into the soft bed.

The last thing you remember before slumber takes you is the feeling of warm hands trailing your arms before something soft covers you and one brief thought.

He feels the same.

——————

A pounding headache is what eventually wakes you from your slumber. Your mouth is dry, tongue laying thick in your mouth as you try and fail to swallow and wet your mouth. Your eyelids feel filled with sand as you peel them open, only to be met with darkness. The only light is from the sun seeping into the tent in thin slivers from the slightly parted tent flap.

You notice multiple things at once. First being that you’re not in your tent, but in Halsins. The second being the smattering of blurry memories from last night.

Oh Gods…I basically threw myself at him!

You remember that vaguely, asking to kiss him, and then the rest is…foggy. You remember him turning you down and then not much else afterwards.

Pushing yourself up on shaky arms you try to take in your surroundings, letting out a small sigh when you see Halsin isn’t in the tent with you. You can avoid embarrassment just a little longer, at least.

You quickly grab your shoes that you see at the end of the bedroll and after making sure the coast is clear you make your way across camp in the early morning light to your own tent.

The next few hours pass in a blur if periodic sleep and the eventuality of the camp stirring to life around you. A rude reminder that you can’t avoid a certain druid forever.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Karlach's voice pierces the air as she pokes her head into your tent. “Can you take firewood duty? We’re running low.”

You nod quickly. You might not be able to avoid the inevitable but…maybe a little longer.

————

The woods are quiet, this time of day, morning starting to give way to midday as you wander through the trees, gathering suitable logs for camp.

However, the tranquility of nature gives your mind time to wander back to last night, desperately trying to force memories to light. But no matter how hard you try, nothing new comes to light. Just you embarrassing yourself in front of the man who’s captured your affections.

You sigh, before gasping as the toe of your boot catches on an exposed root, your thoughts distracting you from your surroundings. The wood in your arms teeters precariously and just about falls to the forest floor before you feel two strong hands steady you.

“You look as if you could use some help,” a familiar voice says, and your stomach flips as Halsin comes to stand in front of you, smiling down at you. “Here.”

He reaches out to take the wood from you before you can protest, the pile that nearly filled your arms looking tiny against his larger frame.

You want to become defensive, but stop yourself before you can snap. Your anger is misdirected to him when you’re really upset with yourself.

You give the man a small smile. “Thank you,” you say before gesturing back towards camp. “I think that should be enough for now, we can head back.”

Halsin just nods before moving in step beside you as you both make the short trek back to camp. Neither of you speak at first - you too anxious to bring anything up and Halsin is probably too polite to do the same.

At least you thought.

“You were gone from my tent when I arrive back from a hunt this morning,” he says simply. An observation. Yet it feels like an accusation, or at least a question. But you almost feel like you can hear…disappointment in his words. Hurt.

You don’t look at him, embarrassment blooming in your chest again. You shrug. “I just…figured I’d save us both the awkward embarrassment.”

You’re at the edge of camp now, and you stop next to the dwindling wood pile and start unloading pieces from Halsin arms onto the ground.

“I’m sorry about last night,” you finally say, avoiding his gaze still. “I shouldn’t have drank so much and I definitely shouldn’t have put you on the spot and I just thought that if I left this morning it would save you from having to turn me down again and-“

The last piece of wood falls from your hands as you fumble over your words, but a steadying hand quickly reaches out to grab your own before you can move to pick it up again.

Finally, you turn to look at Halsin, and you’re taken aback to see…amusement twinkling In his eyes, his lips tugging up into a small grin.

“So you do not remember last night?” He asks, head tilting to the side slightly.

You shake your head, frowning. “I mean I don’t - I remember some of it. I remember asking to - to kiss you…” you cringe slightly at the hazy memory. “And then I remember you pulling away and-“

Before you can ramble any further, callused hands cup your cheeks and soft lips capture your own.

A memory comes to you then, as if Halsins touch alone makes it resurface. You remember what you thought was his rejection, then his confession, then his kind words after.

“I want you to remember this.”

He didn’t reject you. He returns your affections, and has for some time now it seems.

You finally kiss him back, your hands falling to his waist and gripping the fabric of his shirt in your hands. He pulls you closer then, lips moving against yours in a way that screams desperation. He’s been holding back for so long, and so have you.

But not anymore.

Yet he pulls away all too soon, leaving you breathless and wide eyed as you look up at him, still gripping onto him as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear if he steps away.

“I don’t think I could have forgotten a kiss like that,” you say, voice soft.

Halsin laughs, a quiet chuckle as his thumb runs soothingly over your cheekbone.

“I will not forget this moment either,” he assures. “But I did not want to risk losing it to the haze of last evening. These things are better enjoyed with a clear mind.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite the seriousness of his words. “You’re not wrong in that,” you say, reaching up to trace gentle fingers over the scars on his brow.

Another memory flickers to mind and you smile as you watch Halsins eyes flutter closed, just like they did last night.

“Halsin,” his name is a whisper on your lips.

He smiles, eyes blinking open once more. “Yes, my heart?”

Gods that nickname.

“Can I kiss you?”

He pulls you closer, nose brushing your own. “You never have to ask, little one. My heart is yours.”

And then his lips are on yours again, and you're silently glad he made you wait. Because he was right.

You don’t want to lose a moment with him, either.

[reiderwriter]

Hi I’m new to this so I’ve no clue if this is how you request, but I was thinking Spencer fluff, in earlier seasons where he’s a little bit more awkward but has a little bit of confidence, based on that one episode where hotch says Reid was propositioned by all the prostitutes & you’re dating him but you’re not the jealous type, they know what they have with Spencer is good and knows he worships the ground they walk on, so isn’t worried or threatened by anyone so while he’s getting hit on being a blabbering mess they just giggle to themselves making little suggestive comments. Hope this makes sense🥰

A/N: That's one of my favourite scenes because it's so hilarious to see Hotch cracking jokes for some reason. That and "did you join a boy band?" Iconic, truly. ❤️ Thank you for requesting, I'll shut up now.

Warnings: none

You were aware that Spencer Reid was a catch. Perfectly aware. More than aware. Desperately aware.

He was, quite possibly, the most attractive bean pole of a man that had ever walked the earth. He was beautiful and he was loving and his smile lit up the room and you were quite honoured to be able to call him your boyfriend.

It was not lost on you that many other people - not just women - also desired him. Which led to some downright hilarious instances.

“It's not funny, Y/N.” He pouted, that adorable furrow in his brow coming back and finding it's perfect place on his face as you stared up at him. You knew the expression you were showing him was a little bit dreamy, head in both hands as you gazed admiringly up at him, but you simply didn't care what kind of company you were in.

“Spencer, you were propositioned by 11 prostitutes.”

“I'm sure they were just teasing, Y/N. I'm awkward, I stand out like a sore thumb, I'm not buff or hot, I'm-”

“A complete and total liar!” You stood, gasping and grasping non existent pearls, playing up your disbelief. He cracked a smile and you paused briefly to send up a prayer to God, thanking them for putting a real angel on Earth.

“Spencer, you may be a little bit nerdy, and you absolutely do not know when to shut up. Your hair may always looks like your mom did it for school picture day, and your fashion sense is questionable to out it kindly-”

“Is there a but? I need there to be a but or I'll cry myself to sleep.”

“But those things are incredibly endearing. And did I mention you're really hot? It's like you're all members of the Scooby Doo cast rolled into one body and somehow that really works for me.” To punctuate your words, you took a step closer, letting your hand play with his tie as you slowly encouraged him to take a small step towards you as well, until you weren't sure where the heat that warmed you was coming from.

It could've been rolling off of him, or you, or it could've been a fire burning between you, as you fixed his tie and ran a hand through his hair.

“I'm not joking with you, Spencer. I love watching everyone appreciate your beauty and your intellect. Frankly, it turns me on.”

“Okay. I'll remember that, thank you.”

“Turns on the prostitutes, too.”

“Y/N! They're just trying to make a living, if you'd have been out there canvassing they'd have tried it with you too.” You had to giggle a bit at his loom of exasperation, flas to see that it was tainted with an uncontrollable smile, a small lifting at the corners of his mouth that he couldn't combat.

“Spencer Reid, Hotch told me that one of the girls offered you $100 for a ride.”

“That's not exactly cheap or a discount, Y/N, the going rate for a working girl in the area is-”

“Spencer. She was offering you money.” His brows knitted again and then his eyes widened in realisation.

“Oh. Oh, she did look very disappointed now that I think about it.” You pressed your hand to your mouth to suppress the small pleasurable giggles from slipping out and composed yourself, before slipping your arms around his waist.

“So, Spence. How is it that you know the going rate of a working girl?” You lifted your eyebrow and watched him panic, ready to memorise every expression that ever passed across his angelic features.

[siilvan]

stray

characters: frank woods

summary: you meet a strange man at a bar and wake up in his bed.

genre: fluff, fem!reader (no desc.)

warnings: semi-proofread, light cursing, couple suggestive moments, mentions of drinking, reader's a bit awkward ngl, frank's a gentleman in his own way <3, please dear god i am praying he isn’t ooc 😭

word count: 1.7k

note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @froggi-mushroom!!! You knew this was coming, but I hope you enjoy this fluffy little thing that I whipped up for your actual real husband, Mr. Frank Woods 🥰🫶

(ngl i'm adding the cold war cast to my list after this)

truthfully, you didn't plan on drinking so much. you just wanted to swing by the bar after a long day and relax, but those plans were almost immediately abandoned after the stranger sitting on the stool next to you decided to strike up a conversation.

dark-haired and handsome, with a gruff voice and curtness to match, you think he's going to deliver some half-assed pickup line in an attempt to get you into his bed. he's lively, though; animated as he spins you a tale about some grand adventure that he claims he heard "from a friend" despite the passion behind his storytelling implying otherwise.

throughout the conversation, you learn his name: frank woods.

"just woods to my friends," he claims.

the rest of the night is a blur of cheap alcohol and his company— you can't recall the last time you've talked to someone, much less a stranger, for so long, but after he graciously paid your tab, you found yourself in the alley behind the bar, your body pinned between his and the brick wall.

his kiss tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, his touch leaving a warmth that licks up your spine like a fire. you feel dizzy, knees threatening to buckle under the intensity of him, held upright only by his strong arms wrapped around you.

not once does he suggest taking you home, even as he mutters generous praise against your parted lips.

⋆⋆⋆

when you wake up, the first thing you notice is the splitting headache that forces you to squint at the ceiling. you grumble and moan at the pain and bury your face in your pillow, blocking out the dim light that floods in through the half-opened blinds.

the second thing you notice is the mattress feeling different under you. it's fluffier, less worn with use. you shift, forcing one eye open and giving the bed a cursory glance.

that brings you to the third thing, and the one that sends a cold wave of panic coursing through your veins. this isn't your bed. you force yourself to sit up and take in your surroundings.

the bedroom you're in is scarcely decorated. the walls are bare, save for a couple old posters scattered about, the furniture is meticulously cleaned, and the scent of fresh linen fills your lungs. the only evidence of someone actually living in this space is the framed photo on the bedside table. you faintly recognize frank in the picture, with another man – a brunet with a strong build, roughly the same height as him – at his side.

did you go home with him? after the bar, everything seems to lump together in your memory.

you look down at yourself, still wearing last night's clothes. you don't remember sleeping with him, but you hardly remember anything at all through the brain fog. with a sigh, you stand on unsteady legs still recovering from sleeping like the dead and stumble out the door. a short hallway leads into a small living room, where you search for any sign of the man of the hour.

a soft snore brings your attention to the sofa. when your eyes land on frank, laying on his back with a throw blanket draped across his legs, half of the fabric falling off the cushions, you have to stifle a laugh. slowly, you step near the sofa and fix the throw, scooping it up off the floor and laying it out properly, the edges of your lips twitching up at the contented sigh that escapes from him.

in a twist of fate and uncharacteristically bold decisions, you've found yourself in a stranger's apartment, standing over him while he sleeps.

"do you always watch people sleep?"

you jolt at his voice, low and hoarse as he breathes out the question, startling you out of your daze. his eyes crack open shortly after, pale irises immediately finding you before dragging over your form, unhurried as he blinks away the lingering somnolence.

"uh, no— i don't," you mutter, clearing your throat. "sorry." you add a second later, suddenly feeling small under his scrutiny.

frank chuckles, averting his gaze as he sits up, the blanket that you just laid out sliding off his upper half and folding in his lap. "don't worry about it, heard you come in." he says, waving off your apology. "assuming you were looking for me."

you nod, staring with a little too much interest as he stands from the sofa and stretches, the hem of his undershirt riding up and exposing a sliver of his well-toned abdomen that you gawk at, until his arms drop and your eyes flick back up to his.

"you hungry?" he asks, earning another nod and affirmative hum from you in response. you follow him to the small kitchen and sit at the table after he pulls one of the chairs out and motions for you to sit. you let your chin rest on your palm, absentmindedly watching him gather ingredients – that you were surprised to see, based on how empty his fridge and cabinets appeared to be – and start to cook, his back to you.

your unoccupied hand rests on the tabletop, nails lightly tapping against the surface. a couple minutes of silence pass by before you break it.

"do you do this often?" you joke, shoulders dropping as another soft chuckle leaves him.

"what, have breakfast?" he replies, dripping with sarcasm, sending you a glance over his shoulder.

you puff out a laugh and sit up straight. "bring women home from bars," you remark in yet another moment of uncharacteristic boldness. "i don't mean to pry, but... you seem pretty comfortable with having a stranger in your home." you continue with a shrug.

frank turns to face you fully, a more somber emotion that you can't quite place briefly crossing his face before his neutral expression returns. "you up for coffee?" he brushes past the question with one of his own, spinning on his heel and moving to start a pot of coffee before you even get the chance to answer.

fuck, you definitely just overstepped.

after delivering a mental kick to yourself, you shift in your seat and wrack your brain for a new topic. anything to pull you from your pit of embarrassment. frank beats you to the punch, though.

"i usually go to bars to drink, not meet people," he says, grabbing two mismatched mugs from one of the cabinets. "you're the first person i've talked to, much less invited to stay over." he adds with an amused huff, mumbling out the last bit. you idly stare at the back of his head while he plates the food— that you want to say is an omelette, but the faint burning smell that wafts from the stove, as well as the sheer volume of dishes that he somehow dirtied in such a short span of time, makes you doubt that.

he saunters to the table with a plate and one of the mugs, regarding you with an easy smile as he sets them down in front of you. contrary to what you saw and smelled, the omelette looks...

amazing, actually. if you didn't know better, you'd think it was prepared by a professional. your eyes narrow then widen, confusion evident in your expression, and you're fairly sure an audible "wow" escapes from you.

"surprised?" he teases, sitting across from you, meeting your gaze over the rim of his mug.

you concede and slowly nod your head after a beat. "i wasn't expecting you to be such a good cook."

"yeah, save the compliments 'til after you try it." he replies, silently urging you to eat.

the first bite is even better than you expected, a soft and, frankly, slightly too pleased, moan leaving your lips. frank watches you with a satisfied grin hidden behind another casual sip of his coffee.

you let yourself unwind and enjoy the meal, the lingering thoughts about how you're sitting hungover at a near-stranger's table, chatting and joking around like you're friends, melting away as the minutes of conversation and laughter tick by.

after frank makes an offhand comment about "his bed treating you well," however, you recall the question that's been on your mind since you woke up.

"did we, uh…" you trail off, suddenly struggling to find your voice as you set your fork down. after a deep breath, you manage to force the words out. "did we sleep together?"

he just stares at you for a moment, letting a horrible feeling of unease bubble up somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach. finally, he sets his mug down and leans forward, speaking in a low voice that brings back memories of last night. "do you really think i'd settle for the couch if we had?" he asks.

you blink, worrying the inside of your cheek, but relaxing nonetheless at the confirmation. before you can make any sort of comment, he continues. "you were drunk, i didn't want to send you home alone. never know what kind of creeps are hanging around the streets," he mutters the last part to himself, briefly pulling his gaze from you. "figured you'd be safest where i could keep an eye on you— no offense, i'm sure you can handle yourself just fine, but i wanted to make sure you were safe 'til you could get back on your feet."

a warmth washes over you, reminding you, again, of last night. his touch, the lingering heat under your skin, the head-spinning sensation of his lips and hands on you, the gravelly praise uttered between searing kisses.

and yet, he was a complete gentleman after all of that. you're not sure what means more to you.

"good, because i'd definitely want to remember if we did." you smile, reveling in the shock that flashes across his face.

frank seems to recover quickly, though, a lopsided grin appearing to replace the shock as he tilts back in his seat. "we still have time for that." he says, a subtle challenge. your gaze narrows and you lean forward, pressing your hands flat against the table’s surface.

"so, it's a date, then?"

he sends a quick glance to the clock on the wall nearby. when he looks back at you, it's with the same look he had when he paid your tab at the bar: charmingly cocky.

"we'll skip the drinks after dinner."

[kevin-day-is-bi]

i just saw that halloween ask game you're doing for this month 👀👀

so trick or treat, dealers choice on ship 🥰🍬

- mel 💜

Dick absentmindedly pressed on the cut on his arm as he watched his target. The man was standing in a small office in a warehouse, talking on the phone. He didn't look happy. Dick could relate.

"Nightwing, report. Your tracker is offline."

Ah, that had been an argument and a half. Of course, if Bruce would stop sneaking tracers onto Dick's suit, Dick wouldn't have to keep ruining them. They couldn't be cheap.

"I'm on a case."

"Your tracker should be online. I need to know your location."

In the window, the man hung up the phone. He was smug now. He had never made that expression, before.

"No, you don't," Dick responded, before pulling the comm out of his ear. He glared at the device in his hand before gently tucking it away in a pocket.

The man was gone. Dick straightened. This could be a chance to place a bug in his office. Not really Dick's style, honestly. He preferred the physicality. But with any luck, he wouldn't have to get physically near the man ever again. Without fully meaning to, he pressed on his wound again.

He heard the footsteps a split second before the voice spoke.

"You're getting awfully snoopy, dick."

Dick stood from his crouch slowly, hands out and low. He turned head first, the sight of the white streak of hair still sending a wave of shock through his heart.

"Jason."

Jason had a gun aimed at his head. Not particularly surprising. Dick had been trained out of being startled by guns a long time ago, but that didn't mean he was stupid. It was still a loaded gun.

"You have ten seconds to say what you're doing here."

"I wanted to...to see you." Dick was a little unhappy to be so truthful so early. He wanted to fire a quip off, maybe some clever wordplay.

Jason cocked the gun. He wouldn't shoot Dick. Maybe.

"Why."

God, Jason looked...he looked exactly how he was supposed to. The rage that had been present in his fifteen-year-old self had looked so out of place, but now the hard line of his mouth fit him perfectly.

"I want you to-"

Come home. No. Dick didn't, really. The Manor hadn't been his home in a while, longer than it hadn't been Jason's. And what would that achieve? An argument ending in a fight ending in a trail of bodies. Dick didn't want Bruce to have Jason. He wanted to have Jason.

"I just needed to-to make sure it was..."

Jason tilted his head, looking every inch the villain that the Red Hood's file painted him out to be.

"I'm sure the old man ran a dozen tests to make sure it was me."

No, that wasn't what Dick meant. He couldn't find the words, didn't really want to find the words. Jason had sliced open Dick's arm. Dick had felt him, felt the warmth of his skin, the solidity of his body. Dick...missed that, maybe? Having Jason close again had felt like a drug, and now Dick was pretending he wasn't craving it.

He hadn't touched Jason all that much before his death. Too much teenage angst, not enough clear roads between Blüdhaven and Gotham. There was no precedent for this.

"I missed you," Dick said, aiming for honesty. As close to it as he felt capable of getting.

Jason laughed. It was a creepy sound that died too soon in the cold air.

"Last time you saw me I beat your ass. Time before that you didn't know it was me. Time before that I was fifteen. You either have a death wish or haven't gotten the message yet. Robin doesn't exist anymore." Jason's shoulders stayed low and his voice remained even. He sounded a little bored, actually. It felt like there was a hook behind Dick's ribcage, yanking him forward. He needed to be interesting. He couldn't have Jason leave again.

"The first thing," Dick said before he had really planned to say anything at all.

Jason scoffed. Dick kept going, distantly aware of the fact that he was tripping down sentences without actually knowing where he was going. "Maybe you're just really good at fighting. All my bad guys this week were too easy."

Jason's chin dropped. Dick had been rubbing the bandage on his arm against his hip without realizing it.

The gun wobbled. Jason's chest rose and fell.

"Take off your mask."

Dick blinked. This felt like a test. Slowly, he reached up and peeled the mask off. It hurt like hell, and he was left blinking in the altered light. Jason kept the gun trained on him.

"Say it again. Look at me and tell me again why you're here."

This was Dick's chance. Honesty could win. He still wasn't sure what winning meant, but whatever. He would make it work. He stared at Jason's mask and said,

"I miss you."

"What's your goal here?" Jason sounded amused, which wasn't what Dick had been aiming for at all. Annoyance and frustration mixed in his stomach.

"I don't know, okay? I just-" Dick gestured helplessly. Jason's face, half amused and half blank, was no help. "I want...I want you..."

He had nothing else.

Jason's face was doing something complicated. His mouth couldn't seem to agree with what his forehead wanted to do.

"Will you do anything to have me?" Jason's voice was a little too loud now.

Dick hesitated. He imagined Jason pressing the gun into his hand and shuddered.

"No," he whispered.

"No, you wouldn't...let's say for example, shoot a drug dealer for me."

Dick felt sick. There was something about that for me that made him want it horribly. He wanted to do things for Jason.

"Oh," Jason said, and then he started laughing so hard that the gun wavered. "Oh, if only Bats could see you now. That's pretty damn pathetic."

Dick needed to leave. He had well and truly lost control of the situation, and he needed to get the hell out. But when he started to take a step back, the gun went back to being steadily present.

"Don't. I will shoot you." Dick froze. Jason started moving forward, each step solid and loud. "I think we should play a game. You want me, huh? Then let's see what you're willing to do to get me."

Dick contemplated what would happen if he hurled himself off the roof.

"On your knees."

Dick dropped to his knees. This was a very bad idea.

"Take out your escrima sticks and toss 'em over here."

Dick hesitated for half a second before doing so.

"Unzip your suit. To your stomach." Dick's pause didn't go unnoticed and Jason sighed. "You used to wear that stupid suit where the neckline when halfway down your torso. Don't get shy now."

Dick undid the hidden catches and pulled the zipper down. And then, for good measure, he pulled his arms out so he was topless. He needed some sense of agency.

Of course, now Jason was masked, armed, fully dressed, and standing above Dick. Dick obviously could fight like this, but there was something...

Jason kept moving until he was right in front of Dick, so close that he had to bend his elbow to keep the gun trained on him.

"Tell me again why you're here. The full reason."

It was so cold. Dick's stomach was churning.

"I miss you. I...I want you."

Jason's breath hitched. He was shaking. The shock of it made Dick's mouth drop open.

"Please come back to me," he whispered, barely knowing what he was saying.

Half certain Jason was going to blow his brains out for it, Dick reached out and laid a hand on Jason's knee. The nearness of him was intoxication. Dick wasn't really sure he would tell Jason no to just about anything right now. He wanted to see Jason's eyes.

The gun moved and Dick shut his eyes. Several seconds after a shot would've happened, the knee under his hand moved, and he opened them again. The gun had been sheathed. Jason crouched in front of him, face inches away. Dick could still feel the shaking.

"Are you cold?" he asked. He needed Jason to see that he cared about him, noticed the shivering, wanted to help.

"Always," Jason said, barely an actual word. Dick's heart broke, and then his thigh felt like it was on fire. He yelled, unprepared for the sudden pain, suddenly leaning on Jason as the pain spread. Jason's mouth was parted slightly. Dick looked down to see a knife embedded in his thigh. Jason wrenched it free and Dick made a breathless noise of horror. Jason ripped one of his gloves off and sliced the knife across his fingertips. Dick hadn't processed what was happening yet, his brain still stuck on "Jason stabbed me?", so he just watched as Jason shoved his bloody fingers into the wound. Dick screamed, the pain mounting and spreading in waves. He hadn't been prepared, he was usually better than this.

"You want me?" Jason asked, fingers still pressed into the gash. "Fucking have me."

His other hand came up to pull Dick closer, digging his face into Dick's neck, and then just as suddenly he stood, leaving Dick hunched over and breathing unsteadily. He held up his bloody hand.

"I'll treasure this. Maybe make a painting with it. The Failure of Yet Another Robin. Every time I see it, I'll remember how the original came crawling to me, thinking he could fix me."

Dick didn't understand what was happening. Jason's blood was inside him.

Jason brought his hand up to his face and his tongue flicked out, tasting the blood. Dick's stomach roiled. He was really beginning to think that wasn't disgust.

"Mm." Jason grinned. "Taste's like B's disappointment. I can't even tell our blood apart now."

He turned and walked away. Dick was starting to hyperventilate a little. He heard Jason's steps pause, and then, from a small distance away,

"Next time you come a-stalking, I'll see if you look this pretty with a bullet hole inside you."

[studentbyday]

cheap and easy ways to romanticize your life ~it's about the little things~

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ speak to yourself lovingly. you have the potential to be your best cheerleader because your mind is the only one you can read. when you find yourself feeling down bc of automatic negative thoughts, try to think of something about the situation that is genuinely good, however small it may feel. on a similar note, every night, try to come with at least 3 good things that happened or that you felt that day. they don't have to be big things. even just the absence of smth negative is a positive. (this is still taking sm practice after getting stuck in a pessimistic habit and struggling to keep myself accountable to change it, but it's so worth it, i promise. 🥲)

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ start your day with music that puts you in the mood to...well, start your day. | personal favorites 🥰 morning coffee lofi • happy morning jazz • cozy jazz for when you don't want to think about anything

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ get cozy. 🧣 hold something soft. 🧸 savor that texture, that comfort.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ forest bathing 🌲🥰 look out your window or better yet, step outside. breathe the air. get some sunlight. look at the sky. the clouds. trees. stars and moon. all the colors. all the shapes. listen for birdsong. the crunching of snow or grass under your feet. isn't it wonderful that we get to experience all this? when i'm feeling lonely and i step outside and look for any sign of nature, i realize just how much i'm not alone and there is good in the world.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ set up a nice ambience. there are many for free online that can sound as real and comforting as you want them to be for the days when indoors studying or what have you. study with me videos have literally tricked my brain into feeling like studying even if it's really just pseudo-external accountability (i can never wake up to watch them live lol).

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ you are worth taking care of. so take care of yourself. start with smth really really small like leaving a glass of water by your bedside to drink first thing after waking up. then gradually add in slightly bigger things as you feel ready like taking care of your hair (literally did not know about proper washing technique until i watched this 😵) and skin (bare minimum: cleanser, sunscreen, and moisturizer), getting enough sleep, and exercising. "true self-care is not salt baths and chocolate cake, it is making the choice to build a life you don’t need to regularly escape from."

[kestalsblog]

Stan/Kyle/Cartman Drabble 🗻🌲

I needed a break, so I gave myself a reward of writing some today. I was struck with this scene a little while ago. I'd been wanting to try Style for a while, but I just love my guy Cartman too much to leave him out 🙈🥰 So, enjoy some . . . Styleman?? LOL. 🏕️

Contains suggestive content and a bit of mature language. Best for 18+. Nothing graphic. I don't post anything explicit on Tumblr.

Normally Stan loved camping with his friends. The fresh mountain air, the indigo-greens of the night sky, the cricket song. The way he could look at the wild, open landscape and not feel insignificant because out here, everyone was insignificant.

Hell, coming out this far in the forest pines had been his idea, but if past-him could have looked into the future's crystal ball, he sure wouldn't be freezing his ass off in a lonely sleeping bag just so he could listen to Cartman and Kyle get it off together in the tent beside his. Feeling his teeth clash together, sensitive from the cold, he cursed Kenny for turning down the invitation. At least then he wouldn't be so hopelessly alone.

Cartman and Kyle's silhouettes flickered across his own tent wall like two candle flames. Sometimes they intertwined; other times, they shivered apart. Stan could hear their muffled whispers and giggles, punctuated by Kyle's occasional petulant shh!

Looking back, Stan wasn't sure when the nature of their relationship had changed - if it had ever changed at all, for that matter. Maybe it had been like this as long as they'd known each other, and he'd just missed the signs.

Earlier in the evening, Kyle and Cartman been bickering in their usual fashion over the snacks Cartman had brought, how well Kyle had pitched the tent (which had started a slew of sexual innuendos from Cartman that had Kyle ready to commit murder), and Stan had been convinced things might be like the old days again.

At least like before college, back when things felt normal. But no, those days were gone, and Stan didn't know why, but he felt his eyes burn when he thought about how those years were never, ever returning. Now Cartman and Kyle couldn't fight without the heated exchange ending in an intense make-out session or a half-concealed fuck in Kenny's closet at a house party.

He hated himself for wishing they'd go back to hating each other. At least then he wouldn't feel left out.

On the bright side, the tears were keeping Stan somewhat warm. Octobers in South Park could unleash unforgiving weather. Normally he didn't mind sitting in the cold until he went numb - he even relished it - but now it was only painful.

Kyle let out an exceptionally loud yelp, followed by Cartman's ruthless snickering. Stan let his eyes drift back to the outlines of their bodies displayed across the fabric tent wall. At some point, their shape had become one.

Stan turned on his side so he couldn't see them anymore. A few tears ran from his eyelashes into his lip, and he tasted salt mixed with the marshmallows from earlier. Maybe he shouldn't have invited both of them. Kyle probably would have come alone, maybe even Cartman. He gripped himself tighter, huddling under the sleeping bag's cover. None of it made sense, Cartman and Kyle . . . Kyle and Cartman . . .

He was Kyle's best friend, the one who had always been kind to him. For fuck's sake, he'd even been there for Cartman growing up too. What had they done for each other except make both their lives miserable?

But now . . . now he listened to a small, slightly stifled moan, probably from Kyle, and he wished he'd never suggested coming camping altogether, not if the only things to keep him warm were his cheap sleeping bag, his tears, and his jealousy. Maybe the two of them were better off being here without him. He should just pack his stuff and go home.

"Shh, shh, Stan can hear us," Cartman's voice suddenly rang clearly, interrupting some scampering night creature nearby their tents.

"It's not like he doesn't know," followed Kyle, but then his voice became gentler when he called out, "Stan?"

Was it better to pretend to be asleep? Fear grazed Stan's cheek in the form of a frigid breeze that trespassed the tent's opening. Both Cartman and Kyle were suddenly quiet, and the change in atmosphere only lowered Stan's feelings. If he weren't here, they could be having unrestrained fun together. He really should just go home.

Fear escalated to terror when an obscenely loud sniffle escaped his nostril.

"Stan?" gasped Kyle's voice, louder now.

Stan turned with a jolt to see Cartman and Kyle break apart from one another and start emerging from their tent to come to his. Sure enough, within seconds, Kyle's face popped through the tent's slot. His wild hair was spiraling in untamed curls around his head, and his cheeks were rosy pink. "Are you crying?" Kyle's eyes widened with concern. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, what gives, dude?" Cartman's face poked in next, directly under Kyle's. If Stan weren't heavy with his own sorrows, he might have found the image comical. "Lonely in here, Stan?" he joked, but the quip went straight through Stan's heart.

I'm going to cry. I'm going to cry. Stan felt his nostrils quivering, his eyebrows. Could he blame the cold, and would they believe him if he did?

"Stan, that's not true, is it Are you lonely?" asked Kyle, nudging his way into the tent. He sat next to Stan's lantern, only a few inches away because there wasn't much room. "I mean, it'll be a tight fit, but we can all hang out. I thought you liked your space . . ."

"Or you could join us." Cartman's jack-o-lantern smirk cracked across his face.

"Isn't that what I literally just suggested?" snapped Kyle, shooting him a side eye as if his entire neck wasn't covered with his love bites.

"No, you were just saying we could all have a sleepover," fake-yawned Cartman. "I'm suggesting, if the poor guy is lonely, that he join us." There was no mistaking the sly undertone. Stan felt unforeseen heat overtake his face when Cartman directed a flirtatious wink in his direction.

"W-What are you saying?" Stan hated the sound of his voice. He hated how harshly he was now gripping the cover of his sleeping bag, and how some not-so-small, shameful piece of himself was yearning, straining to be included, to be . . . What am I thinking? His heart beat violent rhythms through his ears. Ugly sound. No wonder no one wanted him; he was embarrassing.

"Oh my God, Stan, I'm sorry about him," Kyle started, flustered now himself. "He's just being, well, Cartman."

"Oh, come on." Cartman rolled his eyes, which had assumed an oddly comforting caramel coloration in the lantern light. "Don't tell me you've never thought about Stan that way. We both have."

"What?" Stan heard his voice lift an octave, followed by Cartman's devious laughter and Kyle's stuttering.

"I-I mean, it's just . . ." Kyle's voice went nowhere.

"Come on, just picture it." Cartman lifted his hands as if he were painting the image in the air for them to see. "These romantic ass woods and mountains and nature and shit. The three of us doing it like animals? Shit, it's a wet dream, if you ask me." His tongue rolled over his lips with sinister slowness, and Stan would never admit to the way his heart leapt over a few beats at the sight. Surely this was some kind of terrible prank; neither of them had expressed wanting to be with him in the past, even if many of his own nights had been spent in painful pining to join them.

He knew they weren't particularly monogamous. He wasn't even sure if they saw themselves as a real couple, and he'd always been a little heartbroken trying to piece together what was so unappealing about him that he'd never turned their heads that way. Hadn't he shown that he cared for them both? Wasn't he a nice enough person? It had to be the inherent ugliness he knew lurked under his skin, the repulsive something-or-other about him that made him unlovable, untouchable. He was embarrassing. He was -

"Don't mock me like this," he tried to say without crying, but Kyle must have detected the tear in his voice because he suddenly crawled forward and took his hand. Kyle had held his hand before. Right now, it felt different. His fingers gripped Stan's, squeezing.

"Stan, I'd never do that. You know how much you mean to me." His eyes were so close to Stan's, right there, a dark shade of green that reminded Stan of the trees and grass he loved so dearly. Lily pads. His eyes were like lily pads in dark water. He'd never seen such eyes on anyone else. "I know Eric has a fucking horrible way of suggesting it, but . . . if you're lonely in here, I mean, and if you want to . . ." His face blossomed with red. "I can't say I haven't . . . ever thought about it, is all. The three of us." He cleared his throat. "You're my best friend. You're, uh . . ."

"You've thought about it?" Stan wasn't sure how much more new information he could take. If his voice went any higher, he was pretty sure he'd go through some kind of reverse puberty. His ears rang.

"Oh, be serious, Stan. You can't deny you're hot as fuck. A real dreamboat with that classic look of yours. Plus, you have that good- boy sweet vibe about you," Cartman added, causing Stan to jump at the sudden closeness of his voice. He felt it tickle his earlobe. When the hell had he moved so quickly and silently to his other side? Encased between the two of them, Stan felt his heart racing and his previous tears searching for a place to go. "Prime for corruption, if you ask me." Cartman's voice sank a few levels; Stan felt his lips ghost down his ear to his neck, and he jumped closer to Kyle.

"It doesn't have to be like that," cried Kyle, exasperated, reaching a gloved hand to cup at Stan's cheek. The warmth of his hand radiated through the fabric. "Like I said before, you know how much I care about you. We only have to do this if you want to." His eyes simmered. "We can be slow."

Even Cartman, to his credit, paused by Stan's neck, clearly waiting for some form of permission to continue. Stan searched for the words to respond, his mind grasping nothing. All he could think about were the parties he had spent watching the two of them kiss while he sat twisted with sharp pains, the nights he had walked home alone, the loneliness like a smog he couldn't shake off his shoulders. How that smog followed him absolutely fucking everywhere.

Such were his thoughts when he whispered, his voice dispersing like fading fog on the syllable, "Yes."

Cartman surged in like a shark then, his parted lips and teeth clamping into the soft, open skin of Stan's neck. At the same moment, Kyle muttered, "Oh, Stan, I've been waiting for this," and then gently pressed their mouths together.

So much was happening - Stan felt his pulse quicken even further. His temperature elevated, and he couldn't believe he'd been cold ten minutes ago. The heat of Eric's mouth, scented faintly of chocolate, fastened to his skin while he tasted the bright spearmint flavor of Kyle's lips. Underneath the mint, he detected subtle cocoa. Realizing that flavor must have come from Cartman's candy bar earlier and yet he was tasting it through Kyle's mouth sent Stan's thoughts into madness.

Kyle's mouth was exceedingly gentle, his lips slowly but, with defined pressure, moving against his. Is this what Cartman felt all the time from him? Kyle was kissing him, his best friend. The person he'd spent his whole life beside. A person he loved. Kyle.

Stan felt a little dizzy trying to keep up with his shifting emotions when Cartman nipped at his neck. He gasped into Kyle's mouth.

"He's so innocent," teased Cartman. He licked a quick trail up the length of Stan's throat, making him shudder all over again. "So cute. This is gonna be fun." Stan wasn't even sure what to think of Cartman, how to explain the fierce arousal he felt when he'd watched Kyle and Cartman make out. There was a commanding aspect to his personality he couldn't quite fathom, some alluring fantasy of being overpowered associated with his expressive gestures.

"Don't go rushing this," ordered Kyle, the usual warning vexation returning to his tone when he pulled backward some. Stan, breathing hard, noticed a new shine to his eyes he'd never noticed before. He thought he'd known every side of Kyle once. "I want to take my time with this." He was speaking to Cartman, but his eyes were settled on Stan.

Stan was struck with the abrupt realization that he was not simply being looked at - he was being studied. As if Kyle were waiting for the right moment to devour him. These were the looks he'd been craving, this was the attention, and now that it was here, all here, and he was voiceless, helpless. He felt his shoulders tremble under their hands like the falling pine needles outside. His skin reddened beneath their vigilant eyes. He had no idea what to do, which moves to make.

He'd been so utterly convinced a moment like this would never come for him that it all felt like some cruel magic trick the forest was playing on him, almost as if he'd wished so hard for something, he was hallucinating it now.

"Don't worry," Cartman said, his voice more soothing than Stan had ever heard. He hadn't known he was even capable of comfort. Did he really know his two friends at all? "We'll take good care of you, sweetheart." And then somehow, Stan was kissing Cartman - the sweet taste of his tongue coating his mouth like velvet chocolate. Someone's hands were in his hair - Kyle's? - and before he knew it, his head was being shifted from one side to the other, both of them taking turns kissing him. Their mouths were both burning, blazing, even. They both tasted good. Chocolate mint. Stan felt his lips slacken. What to do, what to do?

At some point, he could no longer keep up with which mouth belonged to whom, which long fingers and strong palms were tugging at his coat collar and his hair. He registered through his swimming, unfocused-brain rush of desire the chorusing of insects somewhere beyond the tent.

Was this sweet, tingling taste the flavor of devotion?

If I ever continued this, the rest would have to go to Ao3. Too steamy for here 😳 I hope you enjoyed 🤭🥰🙈 🍫🍵

[scarletttries]

Kendall Roy (Succession) Fluff Alphabet

Pairing: Kendall Roy (Succession) x Reader

Rating: Pure Fluff

Word Count: 3.3k

Author's Note: After doing lots of writing over Christmas, and having a few weeks off in a busy January I am now back with a post for all my succession babies and theybies 🥰 So I hope you enjoy some Kendall cuteness, and consider my inbox open for alphabets and requests for Kendall and the other characters I write for! :)

a - affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

Kendall feels no reservations about showering you with affection in private, draping himself across your lap at every opportunity, singing your praises each second his lips aren't pressed against yours. It's a floodgate opening from years of hidden warmth and humanity, pouring over you in an almost overwhelming force, a test of whether or not you can handle the needs of his heart or if you'll cast him aside like all the rest - but you never would. In public his affection is mostly limited to a firm hand on your lower back as he guides you through a party, and the slight smile that creeps across his face every time you say his name, like you truly know the man behind it.

b - beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do you think is beautiful about them?)

In the world of lavish riches that Kendall's used to, beautiful people are everywhere, revered like just another display of opulence. So when he's captivated by the beauty of your mind, body and soul, you know it's anything but shallow. Your selfless spirit would be the first thing he grew to admire, then the warmth with which you treat others, desperate to place himself in the centre of its glow. Every kindness you extend would only have him falling deeper, truly convinced you are the closest thing to an angel he was ever going to meet.

When it comes to Kendall, it's his humour and joy that you find the most captivating. The way he constantly makes you laugh and smile, saying the most ridiculous thing he can think of regardless of who's around to overhear.

c- cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

Ken not only likes to cuddle, but absolutely requires it. Your touch grounds him on his worst days like nothing else ever has. Burying himself in your chest as your arms drape over him has Kendall feeling the kind of safety and comfort he didn't quite realise he'd been missing all his life until he found it with you. The only difficult part is getting him off your lap when it's time to do literally anything else, having to practically squirm out of his arms as they chase your outline and try to drag you back against his aching chest.

d - dates (what are dates with them like? do they plan them out or are they spontaneous?)

When you first start dating, everything with him is a little bit of a performance. Elaborate dates planned well in advanced, exclusive access to VIP areas, the newest clubs, courtside seats to any game you want. And it's impressive and it's fun and Kendall feels like he's winning you over, like finally all his money and power are getting him something good. Until he realises that when he meets you for a last minute coffee, just sitting for 20 minutes in a crowded café, hurriedly sharing the stories of your day before you each need to head back to work, you both have just as good of a time. Because all that matters is that you're together. So he starts to take it down a notch, lots of movie nights at home, and cuddling up in quiet corners at the back of small bars, drinking cheap beer and laughing together. And he falls even more in love with you, realising that there's not a single experience that isn't special when you're by his side.

e - ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Kendall feels like losing and rejection have been important constants in his life, despite his best efforts, so when he realises another good thing he has is about to end, he would face it with a certain quiet acceptance. He feels like the kind of guy who would choose disappearing over a real goodbye, opting for the easier, cowardly way out, rather than confronting the harsh reality that sometimes things don't work out the way we want.

f - fiancée (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

After his first failed marriage it would take a lot for Ken to risk facing all that heartbreak again, but when he realises that he doesn't want to spend his life without you then he'd start to weigh up the option again, maybe begging Rava to meet him for a coffee and help him learn from his past mistakes.

g - gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Kendall wants to seem like he's cool and easy-going, like if he gets knocked down he'll be able to get back up again without anyone else's help. But the closer you get, the more he lets you see the real him, and the more you start to realise just how fragile he is. And so you're gentle with him, in both your words and your actions; telling him you're proud of how he's trying his best, softly sweeping your fingers over the nape of his neck when you notice the frown lines creasing his forehead, being a source of calm reassurance in an extraordinary life. Kendall picks up on this, and responds in kind, treating you with the only delicate touch appropriate for the most precious thing in his life.

h - hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

It doesn't matter if you've been apart all day, or if you left the room for 30 seconds, Kendall would greet you with a hug either way. As he encircles your waist and clutches you tightly, it almost feels like he's trying to stop you from slipping away, disappearing from his life like all those who showed him kindness before you. His hugs are plentiful, meaningful, and to him an almost sacred act.

i - injury (how would they act if they got hurt?)

Kendall's instinct when it comes to feeling almost anything, is to numb it, and that applies to pain too. You'd probably find him clutching a bottle, or something stronger, disappointed in himself and feeling he deserved whatever pain he'd ended up in. You'd have to pry his chosen vice carefully from his hand before encompassing him in your loving embrace, reminding him that he needs to let you look after him so that he can keep being there for you. That role in your life is enough to make him crack a smile, which quickly descends into vulnerable sobs as the walls come crashing down.

If you have even the slightlest injury, Kendall is frankly a bit useless. Zero first aid training, or common sense, would have him calling a private ambulance at the slightest sign of discomfort, knowing you are too important to risk anything being wrong.

j - jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they're jealous?)

Kendall sees green more than he likes to admit, feeling like everyone in every room is just staring at you both and wondering how they can take you away from him. His fear of driving you away would be enough to stop him saying anything when an overly friendly party-goer compliments your outfit for the third time that night. You can feel the tightening grip on your waist as he laughs at your slightly flustered reaction, taking the first appropriate moment to slip away to a quiet corner, dragging Kendall behind you until you are alone enough to steal a kiss, the lingering taste on his lips a reminder that you only have eyes for each other.

k - kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to be kissed?)

From the moment you catch him off-guard by wrapping your arms around his neck at the end of your first date, pressing your soft warm lips against his, Kendall has been chasing them every time you pull away. He's absolutely the kind to always ask for one more kiss when you need to leave, and then another one more, until he's dragging you back onto his lap and finding your tongue with his, forcing back a smile that tells you you're going to be late again.

He loves the way it feels to have you trailing kisses down his chest and neck, but if he had his way your lips would never leave his, his hands finding your cheeks, combing through your hair, anything to keep you where he craves you most.

l - love language (what is their love language?)

Kendall loves to show his affection through gifts, having resources that few else in the world could even imagine. And he's an exceptional gift giver, not just choosing something lavish and expensive, but something he knows you'll value and that'll show that he really knows and listens to your wants.

I think when it comes to receiving love, Kendall doesn't really care about receiving gifts, though he would be appreciative of anything you did get him. Tied runner-ups would be Words of Affirmation and Physical Touch, his need for affection and reassurance clear from the outset of your relationship. But the number one way he'd want you to show your love would be Quality Time - just be there for him. Let him be his most authentic and relaxed self, and stay by side, no matter what you're doing. Every hour that he passes in your company just adds to the slowly growing confidence that you really do like him for him, and that this is a life he could have with you.

m - mornings (how are mornings spent with them?)

Kendall lives a life of late nights and difficult mornings, so it might fall to you to get the coffee going of a morning, luring him slowly out of the bed with the promise of your company in the shower if he promises not to make you late for work again (that's the only promise to you he's ever broken.)

n - nights (how are nights spent with them?)

It feels like when the sun goes down Kendall's day actually starts. Prepare yourself for galas and parties, clubs and galleries, a whole host of events that will dominate your calendar, but knowing how much Ken needs you by his side means you don't begrudge attending a single one. The best part is when it finally becomes a socially acceptable hour to leave, him squeezing your hand twice as a signal to yawn and start saying your goodbyes so the two of you can get back to his sprawling penthouse and curl up together in peace.

o - open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

The first few times you meet Kendall, you can tell most of what he does is a front he presents to the world, shielding the scared little boy behind those walls. As you start to get closer, maybe offering him a little sincerity to slip past the initial defences, he begins to reciprocate, ignoring the voice in his head that tells him that anything he reveals will just be used against him. When you don't run at that glimpse of the real Kendall, he's all in, ready to bare his soul to you, needing you to know everything about him like your approval will absolve everything that came before you. And just when you think you've heard it all, be prepared for him to tell you a childhood story with a hollow laugh that'll break your heart all over again.

p - patience (how patient are they usually? what tends to wear their patience thin?)

Kendall's rarely had to wait for anything in his life, so sometimes his patience can fade quicker than he'd like. He might get a little snippy after a long day, feeling like sometimes you just can't understand the pressure he's under, but it doesn't take long before he's apologising and begging you to forgive him for speaking to you that way, knowing the more time you spend having each other's backs, the less Kendall grows frustrated at his situation and himself.

q - quality time (how do they like to spend with you?)

There's never a shortage of amazing things planned in your life with Kendall, but when you have the perfect day together it's often just the both of you staying in at his place. Before you came into his life, his penthouse never felt like a pent-home, but that all changes the first time you spend a whole day draped across his couch together, doing 'nothing'. That usually looks like you making a shared playlist and blasting it through his speakers, bass turned all the way up as you show how to make a home-cooked meal. You'll narrate a movie to him while he shows you outrageously expensive shoes he wants to buy and makes you help him pick which colours to order. Finally you end up resting your head on his chest as you both know you should just go to bed, but he can't quite bring himself to let such a perfect day end, knowing he could live with any way his life worked out if he got to spend it with you.

r - remember (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

It's hard for Kendall to picture your relationship as anything but an ongoing stretch of sheer bliss, but he can't help the smile that flushes his cheeks when he remembers the first time he realised just how completely you could see through his father's falsehoods. It might have because you refused to show any reaction to his caustic comments, the backhanded compliments handled with grace, until finally he had to slink away without driving the wedge between you and Kendall that he had hoped to, your patience and kindness clearly the only superpower that defeat the villain Ken had spent his whole life bullied by.

s - security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

There are so many things in his life Kendall wants to protect you from; his siblings, his parents, his work, his reputation, even himself. At first he'd try to compartmentalise your relationship, keeping it away from all the complexities in his life so it could remain safe and unmarred. But you were the first to point out that you wanted to support Kendall in all his life, not just the easy parts, so gradually he had to face the risk of exposing you to everything he was dealing with. He watched as you unflinchingly accepted all of these bizarre characters and turns, turning from someone he wanted to protect, to the person that made him feel safe to be himself. And now when his instincts scream to keep you out of the Roy line of fire, he knows you can handle his life, even better than he ever did without you.

t - try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

No matter how much you insist that Kendall's money and connections aren't what matters about him to you, prepare to be absolutely spoiled at every possibility. He's not used to having someone he can worship entirely, and providing offerings to your sacred altar as a token of his faith in your love is the one thing Kendall knows he can do better than anyone.

u - upset (how do they act when you're upset? how do they act when they're upset?)

Kendall's not used to people actually showing it when they're upset, spending his childhood living by the 'stiff-upper-lip' mentality, so when he sees you genuinely and sincerely upset he'd be able to feel his once-guarded heart breaking in two for you. He'd crumble at your side, hovering his hand next to yours, for fear even a tiny touch would damage you further. He'd be at your side in soft silence for as long as it took until you could tell him what was wrong, letting him trace the route of your tears with his thumb as he nervously rattles off a thousand things he could do to try and help with how you're feeling, letting out a shaky sigh of relief when a small smile breaks through your dark clouds at his words.

When Kendall's upset you'd be presented with an empty shell of a man, chasing anything that might just make him feel again. Wrap him in a blanket, hold his head in your lap, run your fingers through his hair, and don't leave his side. Every second you pass being there for him is a second that whatever is on his mind feels a little easier, until finally he's ready to face the world again, as long as you're there with him.

v - vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

I think Kendall likes to stay in shape for appearances, but more than caring about looks, Kendall just really enjoys fashion. It's a way he can show off a little part of who he is, the creative mind he rarely gets to put to use. As far as how you look, Kendall's never seen anyone more perfect for him, and he just loves to see you in whatever makes you feel confident and comfortable.

w - wildcard (a random headcanon for them.)

Kendall puts an inordinate amount of effort to be friends with your friends. He'd pay such close attention whenever you spoke about them, and the first time he joined you on a casual games night or bar crawl it would be one of his favourite nights ever. He's so used to people only being his friend because they want something from him, so being surrounded with people that genuinely want to get to know him, who laugh and share jokes and stories with no ulterior motive, no malice and spite - he'd quickly be rushing to get all their details so he could plan the next time you'd all meet together again. Every birthday party, every night out, every brunch - Kendall's there.

x - x-ray (how easily are they able to read you?)

He'd always be able to tell when you were hiding something from him, recognising the slightly dishonest look that he was practically raised on - but he'd never know quite what to say to find out what was behind that look. Gradually after a day spent quietly perched by your side, you'd usually take mercy on the downtrodden man and tell him what was on your mind, the secret you'd tried to keep weighing on you much less heavily than having to hide something from your 'Dall.

y - yuck (what things do you do that they hate?)

Once Kendall falls for you, his heart is truly and completely yours, and there's not much you could do that he wouldn't find a way to love. That being said, if he ever overheard you getting along with his siblings, he might just feel his stomach turn in unease.

z - zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs?)

By the time Kendall gets to bed, he's usually exhausted and ready to completely crash, so more often than not he's pleading with you to help him out of his shirt, and his tired, restless hands try to return the favour, clutching at the folds of fabric that cover your body until he's so tired you wake up the next morning with his hand still desperately clinging to the white shirt that falls from your shoulders.

[riaaanna]

Queen Fanclub Convention 2023 Part 7: the rest of the fun!

I'm done with all those long transcripts so this post will be more of photos and vibes! While the guest panels were the bulk of the main event during the Convention, there were a lot of other things going on parallel and in-between. I'll just be posting a few things with somewhat interesting contents - to me at least!

Marketplace

Can't really capture the whole atmosphere in one shot but as the name suggests, this is where Queen fans put up their stalls to sell their Queen-related things. They range from handcrafted works to rarity bootlegs, so it was all quite a mix! It was honestly like walking through a hoarder's den lmao, but in a somewhat organized way. Anyone I've seen or heard about as Queen collectors online, they were probably there, or at least their stuff were. Just to give you an idea here are people putting up their Sotheby's purchases right there.

I was mainly a woman on a mission for rarities, but this was Saturday morning before the panel and I didn't want to lose my spot at the good table, so I had to go about it quickly and efficiently. I didn't want to fall for obvious scams either which there are a lot! So my right hand was browsing through items while my left was on the phone scrolling through file folders and chats (£60 for a 1984 bootleg?? I have that in a freakin OneDrive link 😭). I bought something cheap that, in panic, I thought I didn't have, but it turns out I did. Not a big loss and it was a much nicer quality so it was fine...

MPT also had their own stall inside the hall (not part of the Marketplace), this was just a small selection. And you can hear a trivia quiz running in the background lol.

Charity Auction and Raffle

I didn't participate in the auction and I only spent a little on the raffle (and didn't get anything lol, lots of people bought huge amounts of raffle tickets), but there were some interesting things! List of the auction items on the left (📸 Ian Knight) and list of the raffle items on the right.

I loved seeing the handwritten things up for auction, again all the images below were taken by Ian but cropped by me.

From left to right. First is #6, Roger's handwritten letter for the fanclub magazine in 1994, talking about his song "Nazis 1994".

Next is #10, a lyrics sheet of Say It's Not True with Roger's handwritten note: "This is a sad song about a horrible situation anyone could find themselves in! 46664!"

Last is #21, Brian's "favourites" questionnaire, handwritten and signed. He loves Queen II and The Works (what a combo) and writes Anita Dobson under favourite actress 🥰

Party vibes!

The rest of the party is just good fun! Some of the calmer parts are team games and trivia quizzes, both Queen and non-Queen related, for the brainy fans! There is also a caravan decorating competition and a fancy dress competition for the crafty fans! (I didn't take many photos of them myself and I've already used too many of Ian's lol, so sorry for the lack of photos...) There's also a crazy golf competition somewhere but I did not check that out at all I was not there for that. Lots of music (tribute bands and DJs) and dancing which I could only indulge in for a small amount of time before I drained my entire social energy lol. Here's a tradition at the Convention which they call the Breakthru train, lots of fun!

Overall a really fascinating first-time experience at the Queen Fanclub Convention! It was very satisfying content-wise and, while I was wary (a party for 3 days? my God) it was also very fulfilling social-wise! I'm glad I decided to give it a go before returning home. It wouldn't have been the amazing experience that it was without everyone who was there with me but especially Ian, Rob, Cilla, Reece, and of course everyone else I met up and chatted with. Meeting fellow Queen fans irl is always a highlight that just hits different.

If you're still here that's incredible! Thank you for reading!

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

🕶️🌶️🥰 (Take ur time replying, i don’t mind waiting :) thank you<3)

Open Books - Spicy/Romantic James Lewis Headcanons

Warnings: Implications of sexual times, nothing explicit.

Notes: Double James let's goooo 🥰 Since I got these back to back I decided to do both a drabble and some headcanons, so I hope I made the right choice for each heh 💗💗💗

at first, you wonder if he was pretending to be as cliché of an English teacher as he was, but eventually you find out yeah, he's just that smart and sweet

you meet at the bar, where he's having some sort of teacher's night with his coworkers, but even with everyone attempting to get him to join in you can't help but catch the glances he keeps pretending not to turn your way

you're the one to ask for his number, since he was really about to leave without saying a word

he loves going on lunch dates with you, especially when you surprise him at work when he's too busy to get away, where you can pull up a chair and share a quick meal at his desk

sometimes after work he'll surprise you with flowers when he knows you'll be working late, or something to tide you over until you can get home

he didn't used to cook a lot before, microwavable food is cheap and fast after all, but together you teach him until he starts to learn on his own, determined to make up his own menu of things you like so you can be the one coming home to a hot meal every now and then, although he should really stick to literature (you eat everything he makes regardless)

he loves it when you cuddle up to him on the couch, your body pressed into his own like a perfect puzzle, a space that had been empty for so long now filled with you like you were always meant to be there, his arm around you and rubbing your shoulder

while he is shy, he's also surprisingly talkative once you get him going, and while that can sometimes be a bad thing on a bad nights, it's primarily a great thing when he closes his eyes in concentration and just goes on and on about a book he likes that you haven't read yet or what happened in class that day

he doesn't do it often, but he really loves to dance, bad memories usually stopping him from initiating it so it's up to you to lead until he lets loose and enjoys himself

you think he looks adorable in his glasses, but in the beginning, before you move in together, the rare times you see him with them off always makes your breath catch in your throat with how handsome he looks

along with being so predictably cliché, he also keeps finding ways to surprise you the longer you're together, when his shyness finally melts away and you get to see a more daring side of him

for instance, you don't realize he's been holding back from giving you affection until you find him kissing your neck with a little more fervor, taking the lead for once and surprising you with a small nip

he can go either way, but you think he might prefer it when you're on top of him when you makeout, since it gives you the freedom to stop when you want, but it also reassures him that this is where you wanna be

he's very vocal once he starts opening up to you, not just in conversation but when you make him feel good, but it takes a while for him to be able to tell you what he wants without feeling bad, and each time it happens you just kiss him and give him all the time he needs

he handles you like he's afraid you'll break, not quite his usual gentle touches but like you're made of glass if he ever gets to into it, he's had bad experiences with this kinda thing and he doesn't want you to hate him, but of course you never could and you're sure to tell him that as you encourage him to hold you with a little more strength

on the nights where he's completely let go of his inhibitions, you get surprised to find out that he's actually a pretty good dirty talker, his mind a treasure trove of promises fueled by that beautiful imagination of his

he stopped drinking when he met you, wanting to get his life back in order and knowing he depended too much on it, so as a treat you'll get his favourite nonalcoholic beverage and just curl up in front of the TV to watch movies together, but of course even without being drunk he can't help but get a little braver on those nights

he really likes it when you trail kisses from his lips down to his stomach, not just because of where you're headed but because it fills him with awe to see you love every inch of him, and he adores it when he can pull you back up to lay against his heaving chest when you're done

he also really loves it when he can do the same to you, although he does get extremely wrapped up in pressing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs the most as you whisper his name and tell him how much you love him

he hasn't said it explicitly, but you're pretty sure that the person in his story, the attractive one whose heart is stolen by the protagonist, might just be based on you when you sneak onto his computer to see if he's written anything new

[kjmalfoy]

Captain John Price • Headcannons

Theme- Price’s behavior/actions in a relationships (SFW)

Author’s Note- I’m having severe Captain Price brainrot.. He is just BABYGIRL 🥰🥰🤞🏼!

My Masterlist <3

In a relationship Price isn’t a big fan of PDA, however he does enjoy nudging you with his foot whenever he sees you zoning out during meetings.

Ex: Price glanced over at you, watching you twiddle your pen between your fingers; already knowing you weren’t paying attention to the briefing. He kept his eyes on you, gently nudging you with his boot; giving you a stern look as you put down your pen. “Pay attention, aye Solider?” He spoke for your ears, and only your ears.

When you guys are alone, not a second will go by where he isn’t touching you— whether it’s hugging, cuddling, tapping/poking, kissing you, playing with your hair, or even rubbing your foot while you dangle your legs over his lap.

Ex: Whenever Price called you into his office, you knew it wasn’t for serious reasons— just the opportunity for him to get his hands on you. So, once you walk through those doors you know the drill— lock the door behind you, and make your way into Price’s lap. Price immediately wraps his arms around your waist, tucking his face into your hair— smelling the cheap fruity shampoo you buy. “I missed you, Solider.” He mumbled as he caressed your stomach with his fingers.

John can be very secretive when it comes to his job. If he doesn’t think it involves you, you most definitely will not know ANYTHING that’s going on.. for your safety.

Ex: You sat in Price’s office, filling out some paperwork from the mission you had just completed. John was buried in his work, those blue focused on nothing but his computer; only taking a quick second to sip on his coffee. “What’s going on?” You asked softly, glancing at him through your lashes. Price shook his head, dismissing your question. “Until it’s safe, I can’t tell you, honey.”

After a rough day at work, Price will run you a warm bubble bath, order your favorite takeout and, cuddle you until you fell asleep in his arms.

Ex: Walking into your shared sleeping towards, you slammed the door— much louder than you anticipated. Alarmed, John jumped out of bed— staring at the drained expression on your face. Immediately, he stood up and walked over to you— cupping your face gently. “There’s my pretty girl.. Let’s go run you a bath, while I ordered us some takeout. You deserve it, sweetheart.”

Price does his absolute best to reassure you, knowing he is constantly away for work definitely takes a toll on your mental health. So, whenever he can he’ll write stacks of letters during his mission and have someone mail them out to you.

Ex: You sat in Price’s office, feeling a little blue as John had to leave for a “top secret mission.” You always worried about him, knowing that when he left you behind— it was a dangerous mission. A faint knock pulled your attention away from the picture frame Price had on his desk. “Come in.” You said, watching the door open. One of the new recruits stood there, a small stack of letters in his hands. “Regards from Captain Price.” He said, handing you the letters. You opened the first letter, immediately smiling at the written greeting on the paper. “Give me a smile, sweetheart. I’ll be back sooner than you think.”

Price isn’t the best at communicating, so during an argument/disagreement he may shutdown; but, his actions always speak louder than his words. He will purposely go out of his way and do things to remind you he’s sorry.

Ex: You laid in bed; backing facing John’s face, refusing to speak to him after a messy argument. Was it relationship involved? No, it was work— always is, but that doesn’t mean it won’t effect you either way. John knew that, but somehow n he couldn’t find the words to put in a sentence to apologize. So, instead he found himself cuddling closer to you, wrapping his arm tightly around your waist— burying his face into your hair. “I know we’re upset with each other, but I still want my nightly cuddles.”

He’ll purposely act like he forgets about important dates (your anniversary for example) just to see you ignore him for the rest of the day, so the surprise date night will be better later.

Ex: You sat on the couch, holding a glass of wine— drinking your sorrows away as John forgot about your one year anniversary. You knew he was always busy and stressed, so you weren’t entirely surprised— but you were still disappointed. Your body jumped when your heard the front door open— John not supposed to be back home till a few hours. He stood there with a goofy smile on his face, holding your favorite flowers, and a bunch of shopping bags. “Get dressed, Princess. I have a surprise for you.”

John is a very domesticated TRADITIONAL man, he loves spoiling you and spending money on little gifts for you; clothes, shoes, furniture, etc. He heavily believes the saying, “happy wife, happy life.”

Ex: For the last couple of weeks, you’d been talking John’s ear off about this new perfume— And, although Price loved your signature vanilla caramel scent, he also loved seeing you happy. So, as a sweet gift, John immediately ordered the perfume along with new bottles of your signature perfume in case you didn’t like the new one. Once they came in the mail, John wrapped them up in a cute pink gift bag, stuffing it with purple tissues paper. “Hey, Princess. I got you something.”

John always pushes you to be/become the best version of yourself. He supports every single one of your creative ideas and provides funding for everything.

Ex: When you told John you wanted to go back into the medical field because the guys got hurt so often, he immediately set up an infirmary and supplied you with the best medical supplies you could ask for. He made sure everything was perfect, and even handled the paperwork by himself. Price covered your eyes, guiding you to your new office— making sure it was close to his at the same time— “Open your eyes, Doc. You’ll do great, sweetheart.”

If Price notices that you’re in a depressive mood, he’ll pull you onto his lap and pet your hair; letting you cry out your emotions into his arms. Then, he’ll threaten to kill anyone who made you feel like that.

Ex: You laid in bed, snuggling up to Price’s pillow— inhaling his string musky cologne. You were so wrapped up in your tears, you didn’t even notice Price walk into the door. John quickly climbed in bed next to you, engulfing your shiver body in his arms and pulling you on his lap. He caressed your hair softly, gently using his fingertips to massage your scalp. “Go ‘head, honey. Let it all out. I’m here all night long.”

Big spoon. Every single night, John pulls your body into his; snuggling you until you’re suffocating in his affection.

Ex: Once Price was finished with his paperwork, he climbed in bed beside you— eagerly wrapping those strong arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest and nuzzling his face into the locks of your hair. “You’re so warm, Princess.”

Whenever he comes home from a mission (no matter the length) he ALWAYS comes back with a bouquet of flowers and your favorite candies.

Ex: You didn’t expect John to be back so soon, but when he once you were immediately greeted with joy. Price walked into your sleeping quarters carrying a large bouquet of (your favorite flowers) and a small basket filled with (your favorite snacks and candies) “Hey, Sweet Girl. I missed you so much.”



Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed, reblogs/comments/and likes are all greatly appreciated!!

My request are still open if anyone has any requests, please feel free to let me know!! 💗

[iamaweretoad]

Since we are on the topic of romance (my favorite 😎)...

What makes Mago's heart go pitter-patter? Is he a fan of grand romantic gestures or more of a down-to-earth type of thing?

Is he the one to initiate things or is he content with making heart-eyes until getting noticed?

And, most importantly, how do things go with Master van Calox? Who made the first step and what is their romance dynamic? 🥰

Let's fuckin gooooo XD Thank you for the ask (and sorry for taking 87 years XD) this was a lot of fun! 😊💜

It's a little tricky, 'cause he's demi-aro and i think the line between platonic and romantic is a little blurry for him. He had some intense 'it's complicated' friends-with-benefits relationships back in his gang days, but hasn't let anyone get that close since. So romance is new and undefined territory for him.

In the environment that he grew up in, life was cheap, short and violent; no one had the time for courtship or propriety any more than they had the resources to spare for grand romantic gestures. Mago is aware of these things conceptually, but in practice they are kinda foreign to him. I don't think he would know how to parse grand gestures and would probably misunderstand them as performative rather than sincere; he definitely prefers small, down-to-earth things.

Softness is another thing that he has had very little exposure to, so when he does experience it, it hits him like a goddamn truck. Gentle affection and tenderness, especially in the context of non-sexual intimacy make his brain short-circuit (in a good way -- oxytocin jumpscare XD). Really kinda undermines the carefully cultivated Mr Hardened Criminal Edgelord persona when a small act of genuine affection makes him fucking blue-screen.

In terms of initiating -- I think in his gang days he would have been very comfortable initiating relationships, but after everything broke bad with that chapter of his life, he more or less closed off that part of himself and has stuck to professional relationships for the past twelve years. He's arguably even more fatalistic than Heinrix when it comes to his future, so I don't think he would have intentionally initiated anything. Luckily he's a dumbass XD, which brings us to your next question --

Ok, so here's the thing about who made the first overt step -- it was technically Mago, but it was also kind of an accident. In his head the kiss (magnae accessio) was a "well fuck this is miserable and awkward and i'm already in a super weird/bad headspace, better do something to break the tension -- also i have no intention of being taken alive if your boss tries to arrest me, so maybe this is a goodbye thing" type kiss. I don't think he was expecting much of a reaction. He certainly wasn't expecting THAT reaction. And it recontextualized a lot of things about their relationship, including his own feelings. He had inadvertently stepped over a threshold and he realized that he didn't want to go back.

Vibes! Their meme vibe is very much "Regrettably, that one" XD. Actual vibe is messy, fatalistic disasters becoming each other's breathing spaces -- just like, the place where they can be still and vulnerable and human and safe, however briefly.

[dari-ede]

In the Middle of the Night: Ch 23 (M)

Chapter 23: "자꾸 멀어져가" [jakku meoleojyeoga]

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

MASTERLIST

Summary: As Bangtan prepares for a new chapter in their lives, they head to their private property in the forest for a songwriting workshop. As a songwriter and producer they have worked with for years, I’m asked to tag along. I was ready for the heavy workload and small amount of sleep during the workshop week. However, I wasn’t ready for the storm that came that changed my friendship with Namjoon forever.

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut

Pairing: Idol!Namjoon x Female Reader

Rating: M (language, explicit sexual scene)

Status: COMPLETE

Trigger warnings: familial problems, sexual assault scene (once again, this will have a ***** at the beginning and end), mother-daughter issues, misunderstandings

Warning/spoilers: anal, fingering

********

NOTE: First and foremost, Happy Indigo Day!!!! Don’t forget to stream/listen/buy “Indigo”! 🥰💜💜💜

Second, I'm sorry to inform you that this will be the last weekly chapter I post this month. I've fallen behind on this story due to the crazy holidays (work tends to double around this time). There is a lot I have to work on and I would rather not rush as I have been lately. There are seven chapters left (they’re mostly finished but need heavy editing), so I want to ensure I take my time with them. Plus, I have another short story I’m working on that I want to take care of first (“Seven Times I Hated Kim Seokjin”). I think I’ll be able to release one more chapter of ITMOTN in December but I won't make any promises. I’m hoping to be back to posting weekly by the beginning of the new year.

On a positive note, this chapter is a long one. Enjoy!

_______________

-Early December- 

“You do have a beautiful home, Mai-Mai,” Hoseok said as he stared into the ocean.

Hoseok, Yoongi, Taehyung, and I were all sitting in the backyard of my home. They were done with their shows and had officially started their vacation. Jin, Jimin, and Jungkook had already flown back to Seoul, the rest were staying in the States for a little longer to enjoy some of their time off. Tae and Hobi were flying out first thing in the morning with their families for their vacation while Yoongi would be staying behind alone in California. Namjoon was also set to leave tomorrow with Hakun and Yongrae and another friend of ours. They were going to be visiting several museums in the States; the trip they had been planning for months.

I was putting on a brave face. Namjoon and I were going to be separated once again. Only this time, it was going to be for much longer. I wasn’t set to go back to Korea for another two months or so. Honestly, my heart ached at thinking about it. Even with the guys' busy schedules, Namjoon and I still managed to see each other almost every day since they'd been here. It was going to be difficult not seeing him as often.

“I bet this has a killer view in the morning,” Yoongi murmured as he took a sip of the whiskey he had brought out from my collection.

An idea popped into my head, pulling me away from the sadness I was feeling. “Why not just stay here?” I asked.

Yoongi turned to me, confused.

“I have plenty of room for you, Kiwoo, and Dal. Rather than stay in the hotel, why not here? There’s plenty of security at the gate. If you need a driver, call the company I use or call Ky. His schedule is flexible.” Kiwoo and Dal were the two staff members staying behind with Yoongi. If I was going to invite Yoongi to crash at my place, I needed to extend the invitation to them.

“Use Ky as my own personal chauffeur?” Yoongi asked, chuckling at the idea.

“Get him dinner and he’ll be happy to do it,” I suggested. Yoongi tended to eat at high-quality restaurants and Ky was always too cheap to go to those places. If Yoongi agreed to take him out to dinner, I knew Ky would be happy to drive Yoongi through all of California for that free meal.

Yoongi considered it for a moment. “It's not a bad idea. The guys won't be bored here either. I’ll talk to Kiwoo and Dal.”

I smiled, liking my brilliant idea. Yoongi's flight wasn't for a couple of weeks. It would be nice to have some company. Maybe I could introduce him to an old friend of mine. I didn't get involved in my friends' love lives unless they asked for my advice. Yoongi had never asked me to introduce him to someone or even hinted at wanting to find someone, but I did have this one friend who I genuinely believed would be a great match for him.

Suddenly, Namjoon's appearance pulled me out of my thinking. He had two beers in hand. While Yoongi and Hobi were drinking the whiskey, I was craving beer. Namjoon, being the sweetheart he was, offered to get some for us. Tae opted out of drinking, which wasn't a surprise to us.

Namjoon came to my side and handed me the ice-cold beer. As he took the seat next to me, he caressed my head gently.

The butterflies in my stomach flew in all sorts of directions.

“Such a gentleman, Namjoonie,” Taehyung said as he gave his brother applause.

Hobi mimicked Tae and clapped, laughing at our expressions.

I got a light blush. For some reason, I didn't get embarrassed by the kissing or full physical flirting, but when it was small or intimate touches, I turned into a tomato. Namjoon rolled his eyes at his brothers. He took a sip of his beer and draped his arm on the back of my chair, scooting closer to me.

“You’re seriously not going to join Namjoon on his travels?” Hoseok asked me, changing the subject.

“Yeah. There just isn’t time. I’ve got some meetings with an artist on their next album. Plus, this is a guy’s trip. Namjoon and they have been planning this for months, I don't want to intrude,” I said taking a sip from my beer.

Yoongi laughed next to me. “She doesn’t want to spend all that time in museums.”

Hobi chuckled at the accusation.

I didn’t answer and took another sip. He wasn’t wrong. While I wanted to spend as much time as I could with Namjoon, it also didn’t excite me to spend that many days and hours discussing art. I enjoyed my time at an art gallery and having Namjoon next to me explaining everything, but I feel I would be more in the way than anything else if I went. But I also mean it when I said I didn’t want to intrude on his trip with the boys, all of whom were art enthusiasts.

“She’s not saying anything, so you might be right,” Hobi teased.

I flipped him off.

Namjoon turned to me, his eyes giving a mock expression of hurt. “You don’t want to spend hours of your days walking through a gallery or on your butt in a car, trying to get to another destination?”

He was so close to me that the cluster of freckles around his eyes and nose became more prominent. I swear, they looked like a constellation of stars I could not name. “Depends. If I go with you will you go to a couple of off-Broadway shows in New York?”

Namjoon pulled away and resumed drinking his alcohol, refusing to answer me. I took that as a fat ‘no’.

“The sky looks very pretty,” Tae said as he looked out into the ocean. “I bet the sunset is quite the view.”

I nodded. “The colors against the water are almost breathtaking. And the shadows it makes with the trees give you goosebumps. It gets really beautiful. Like a movie.”

“We haven’t caught a sunset in this view, right?” Namjoon asked me, pulling my chair closer to his.

I nodded. We hadn’t. We had seen one once at the beach but not at my house.

We all turned to the sun as it got closer to disappearing. Everyone was quiet.

Someone cleared his throat. “You want to shoot some pool?” Hobi asked Yoongi.

Yoongi smiled at him and nodded. “Come on, Taehyung.”

“Come on, Tae,” Hobi echoed as he got out of his chair.

“Why?” Taehyung asked, pouting. “I want to see the sunset. Sounds romantic.”

“That’s why, dummy,” Yoongi muttered as he let out a chuckle.

Hoseok took ahold of Taehyung’s arm and pulled him out of his chair. It seemed Tae finally understood why the other two wanted to go inside when I heard him make an "Aaaaaah" sound. Yoongi and Hobi simply laughed at him.

“Well, they were subtle,” Namjoon said, getting up himself and picking up our beers with one hand.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“It’s ‘where are we going’,” he corrected and took my hand, dragging me out of my chair.

I followed him over to a couch that overlooked the water. Namjoon set down the bottles on the floor and then motioned with his hand for me to take a seat first. I sat down and moved the cushions so we could recline on them and still have a good view of the sunset. Once I was done, Namjoon climbed on, pulling me to his chest.

I snuggled close, draping my leg across his stomach and placing my head on a pillow next to his own. Normally, I would have opted to lay on his chest or neck, but I wanted to keep my eyes on his face. I had first-hand knowledge of how breathtaking his face looked at sunset. There was no way I was going to miss it.

As we lay there, waiting on the sun to come fully down, Namjoon’s fingers lightly stroked my back and his other hand wrapped warmly around the thigh that was on top of him. “You really can’t meet me in New York? Even for a day before I fly out?”

I let out a groan at his words. We had discussed this several times. At first, I thought I would be able to go to New York and spend a couple of days with him, but Ky had booked us some meetings with labels which looked promising. Plus, I had a project with another artist and needed to stay in LA.

“I wish I could, but I can’t,” I said, sounding and feeling crappy.

Namjoon squeezed me. “I know. I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. Just sucks.”

I nodded, holding him tighter.

He turned to me, his warm chocolate eyes landing on mine. I reached over and traced the dots around his nose and eyes lightly. “I’m gonna miss these the most.”

He snorted. “You’re the only one. I’ve never had a girl that paid them any mind. I’m not even a fan myself. Takes so much product to cover up since there’s so brown.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What’s so wrong with brown?” I asked jokingly.

He chuckled. “Nothing. On you, it’s beautiful,” he said, reaching for my lips and giving me a deep kiss. “But beauty standards placed upon me growing up made me have a strong dislike for them. Took me a while to simply accept them.”

My fingers continued to explore his face. “Do you like them now?”

Keeping his eyes fully on mine, he spoke. “I like that you like them.”

My heart felt like it would burst. Something lingered on my lips that wanted to desperately come out. I bit my lip, keeping myself contained. He was leaving tomorrow and we would be separated for close to two months. I needed to be rational here.

Suddenly, I noticed a change in the lighting. We both turned to the water at the same time.

The sky turned into different shades of purple and orange as the sun began to fall out of view.

Namjoon’s eyes stayed in nature, taking in the moment. “Beautiful,” he breathed out.

My eyes traced the shadows beginning to form on his face, making his features stronger. “Yeah,” I agreed.

How the fuck did I get so lucky?

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

A few hours later, we were back at the hotel. Everyone, minus Yoongi, would be leaving first thing in the morning. It was easier if I stayed the night at the hotel than a car picking him up early from my place. As we arrived at their floor, Namjoon and my hands stayed linked.

Staff members greeted us and I noticed some of their eyes lingering on our hands. I had the instinct to pull back my hand and step away from Namjoon. However, I resisted the urge. It wasn’t getting easier being stared at, but I needed to learn how to tolerate it.

The only thing I had on me was my purse where I only had a few things. I felt slightly embarrassed and felt anxious in them knowing I would be staying over the night with no extra clothing.

Judging by Namjoon’s face, though, it didn’t seem the same worries were going through his head. Quite the opposite, he looked quite content as we held each other’s hands and got to his room. Once the door was open, he allowed me to go in first, a big smile on his face as he looked at me. Jesus. I don’t think I ever felt such conflicting emotions about his smile. On one hand, I never wanted him to stop looking at me that way, but on the other hand, I wanted him to stop. We were being watched, goddamn it.

After settling in his room, he put on some music. He needed a few things to pack and I decided to help. I looked around, searching everywhere to see if he had forgotten anything.

It didn’t take long for him to finish. However, he was having difficulties closing one of his suitcases.

He looked around the zipper, trying to figure out what was wrong.

I sat back, finding it endearing to see him struggle. Also, I knew how it sometimes irritated him when he was treated like a child. He liked to do things on his own.

After less than a minute, he figured out what was wrong. “Oh, you didn’t align this well, Namjoon,” he muttered to himself and fixed the problem.

I held back a laugh, not wanting to ruin the moment.

After closing it, he turned to me. “Finally.”

As he stared at me, I caught the glint in his eyes. I knew it all too well.

Biting his lip, he made his way to me. I was sitting on the bed, watching him. Once he got to me, he took a seat in the bed and then tugged at my arm.

I let out a laugh, understanding what he was trying to say. I moved my body on top of his, placing my thighs on either side of his legs.

Once I was sitting on his lap, his hands made their way up my back. “Hey,” he said to me, looking at me with heat in his eyes.

I came closer to him, not being able to control my smile. “Hey.”

We kissed for a moment, but nothing heated. A few touches and caresses. We were content just holding each other.

I wasn’t sure how long we stayed that way, but eventually, a knock at the door snapped us out of it.

“Coming,” Namjoon called out, placing his gentle hands on my hips and applying a little bit of pressure, signaling me to move.

I brought my leg up and moved off him. His hands remained on me as he stood up. His palms gave my lower back a soft rub before letting go as if needing to touch me for as long as possible before our bodies fully separated.

I was noticing this was happening more—the gentle and intimate touches. My body and heart thrilled at the growing emotions, but I couldn’t help but get worried that things were going too fast. Opposite to Namjoon’s thinking, I didn’t think three months was too long. How could our emotions be developing so quickly and intensely? Every touch and look now felt so incredibly intimate.

As Namjoon came to the door, a staff member announced he was there to collect Namjoon’s luggage. Namjoon brought out the suitcases he would be checking into the flight but was keeping his bag and small carry-on behind.

After closing the door when the staff left, I had a lingering question. “Um, do you have an extra shirt or sweater for me?”

He looked at me, confused. “Are you cold?”

I tilted my head, giving him a “are you for real” look. “You don’t like me bringing anything when I stay the night. I would hope you have something for me to wear, at least.”

The realization finally hit Namjoon. He let out an embarrassed chuckle and went to his carry-on. “I should have a couple of shirts. Hold on.”

After finding one, he placed it on the nightstand closest to the bathroom.

On my nights here, that was the side I tended to sleep on. His remembering that and considering me brought warmth.

Namjoon went back to his carry-on and tried closing it. Unfortunately, he was having a similar difficulty with it as he had with his other suitcase. He pushed down hard on it, making a sound.

I got a little worried, thinking he might have broken something. I looked over at it but didn’t see anything damaged. Still, I stayed where I was, ready to help if Namjoon asked me to.

“Namjoon, hands nice and steady,” he muttered to himself.

As brilliant as he was and as wonderful it was to witness his moments of intelligence on the topics of art and philosophy and music, I found it equally as beautiful watching the man struggle with trivial things such as packing. And hearing him talk to himself was the icing on the cupcake.

After a couple of minutes, he turned to me and stopped what he was doing. “What? What are you smiling at?”

Damn, I got caught. “Nothing.” I looked away and tried to busy myself using my phone.

“What?” he pushed, making his way to me, determined to know what I found amusing.

“Nothing,” I repeated, feeling a smile on my face. I looked away.

He knew I was lying. He took my phone and placed it n my nightstand, next to the shirt. Then, he poked my side gently. “Tell me. What was I doing? I know you’re making fun of me.”

He knew me too well, but I wasn’t going to admit it. “No.” I squirmed away from him.

“Liar. Why don’t you tell me?” He poked me again.

“Because if I say what you were doing, you’ll stop doing it.” I backed away from him as he reached for me again. “And you look so fucking cute doing it.”

He sent me a teasing glare and looked ready to pounce.

I climbed up the bed, keeping distance between us. “Don’t.” I could read his next move.

His Cheshire smile and dragon eyes looked almost predatory. He climbed onto the bed, slowly crawling towards me.

There was a thrilling feeling that shot through me. “Don’t!”

Suddenly, I was captured. Fiery lips were on me, soft hands touching me, strong arms pinning me down. And my pussy was fully wet.

It didn’t take him long to undress us both. Then, somehow—I don’t know how—he managed to put on some loud music and take us both over to the balcony door.

Memories of the time with the butt plug flooded back, making my pussy quiver in anticipation.

He turned me around roughly, making me face the city lights like he had that one night.

His hand moved across my stomach and moved down between my legs. His fingers slipped in between until he reached my bottom lips, rubbing my clit with his talented thumb.

I mewled under his touch. One of my hands clutched his arm while the other pressed against the glass in front of me.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he growled into my ear, pressing his body against mine. His cock against my lower back.

I pressed my ass to his balls. “Make me wetter,” I challenged.

I could feel his dark chuckle all the way to my dripping pussy. “How would you like me to get you wetter? Finger-fucking your pussy, or…” His fingers drifted lower, moving away from my cunt and to my asshole.

We had discussed having anal sex and I had told him I was ready whenever he was. He said he wanted to wait for a special night. Tonight was our last one for a while. It seemed a better night than any. Thinking of his long cock inside me there sent shivers everywhere.

“…finger-fucking your tight, little asshole?” he finished asking as he pressed the tip of his finger into my back ring.

A sound came out of me that sounded primal. “Put it in!” I bucked my hips against his hand, my body needing him.

His finger came back to my front juices and went back to my tight little hole. “I need to lubricate it first, girl. Can’t rush this. We have all night.”

He reached down the stand next to us and took the lube I had left there. He applied some onto his fingers. Then slowly, he pushed one finger in, making circles as he went in and out in slow motion. I heard his dark, unmerciful chuckle every time I let out my primal sound.

“Please!” I begged, minutes after his slow but beautiful work. I thrust my ass against his finger, needing more friction. Unfortunately, his other hand was firmly around my waist. It was keeping me from pushing him further in.

His other hand went back to my pussy, rubbing and driving me insane. Once he had more juice coated on his hand, he moved three of his fingers to the ring of my asshole. But stayed there and didn’t move.

“Please!” I was ready to move his hand away and do it myself.

“So impatient,” he said in a mocking tone. And then he finally pushed in, his middle finger was more than halfway sucked inside me.

“My god!” I pounded the door, feeling a combination of discomfort and pleasure.

His finger slowly moved out then moved back in.

My ass shook from the indulgence.

“Shit,” he let out as my walls tightened, his teeth grazing my neck as he picked up speed.

It was perfect friction. “Yes!” I let out, rocking into his hand, and feeling grateful that he wasn’t stopping me. He was now knuckle-deep; I could I his entire middle finger sucked in.

His lips came to my ear. “Ready for another one?” I felt the tip of his forefinger tease my back entrance.

I took a deep breath and nodded frantically. “Fuck, put three in me already.”

He made me feel wild and hungry. Like I could take anything he gave me. I backed roughly into the digit inside me to prove I could handle more of him.

Another dark chuckle filled the room and I heard him spit behind me. Some of the spit landed on my round ass. He took away his finger from inside me—I whined at him—and he coated his fingers with spit. His magical digits traveled back to my hole and went in.

I bit my lip as I tried to ignore the ache I felt, doing my best to focus on the desire it would be bringing me. His fingers moved in and out at a patient pace, allowing my body to get used to the intrusion. It didn’t take too long, my body eventually loved anything Namjoon did to it. Eventually, I was bucking into his hand and letting out grunts of pleasure. My walls squeezed all his fingers, welcoming them.

His lips left pecks and small bites along my back as he brought me pleasure. His other hand took hold of one of my heavy breasts and he played with my nipple.

My back arched into his body. I was on the edge of something fucking beautiful and I wanted him to fully engulf me.

However, he didn’t let me reach my orgasm. He pulled his fingers out and I let out a whine.

My pout was short-lived when I felt his thick and massive head at my back entrance.

“Still want to do this, baby?” he asked sweetly into my ear. His lips pecked and chin.

I nodded urgently. “Please.”

He got closer to me and took hold of my lips, giving me a soft kiss. “Stop me anytime, ok?”

Another nod.

Then, softly, I felt the head of his cock push through my back entrance.

Thank god Namjoon had the music on blast. Hopefully, it was drowning out my sounds.

I felt so fucking stretched. It stung a little. Biting my lip, I allowed my body to get used to the intruder. Thankfully, the displeasure was short-lived. Namjoon’s fingers hand made their way to my clit. He did his best to bring me full pleasure as he worked my ass.

My fingers went around his arm and my nails dug into his skin. He first moved at a snail’s pace. Once he felt my body loosen, he built some momentum.

After some time, his massive cock was finally halfway in, pumping in and out of me like a jackhammer. One hand came to my curly hair, wrapping his fingers around it and pulling my neck to the side so he could nip at my neck. His other hand was pressing onto my heat, stroking my clit to keep me in full ecstasy.

“You ready to cum soon?” His fingers sped up and his hips thrust hard into me.

I let out a loud wail, but his mouth swallowed me silently.

“We’re still in the hotel, baby,” he said once his lips pulled away from mine. “Can’t have anyone start knocking on that door.”

He was right. So many people were on this goddamn floor. And I would personally murder whoever would dare interrupt us.

His cock went further in. “You’re beautiful, baby,” he says almost in a prayer-like voice.

My body was shaking and close to nirvana. My heart swelled three times its size and words lingered behind my lips again. I felt something threatening to come out.

The two of us worked in unison, bringing each other to the cliff. I was working him just as much as he was working me. I enjoyed how we moved together. We went back and forth between gentle and rough and sometimes fell in between. Usually, towards the end, our primal instincts took over and gentleness almost flew out the window. Right now, we were nearing the edge.

“Come on, baby. Come on,” he growled into my ear. The sound of flesh against flesh is loud in the room. The liquids coming out of us added an exotic sound. He pumped his thickness into me with such power, such desire, and an unidentified emotion that almost felt foreign to me.

“Namjoon,” I sob out. My feelings were flying in every direction. I was about to lose it. I clutched onto his arm, needing him to ground me. But at the same time, I knew he was the reason I was close to shattering—close to losing all control.

“I’m here, baby,” he promised. “Cum for me.”

His body moved over mine, molding me. He fused both our bodies into one.

And it was at the realization that we were merging in more ways than one when he hit a special spot inside me. His fingers stroked my clit just right. And then I became untethered. Euphoria.

My walls squeezed him tight, never wanting him to leave. I came calling out his name.

And he was right at my heels, spilling inside me and breathing out my name.

It took moments for us to come down from our high. I was so exhausted.

He left me briefly, but only to collect a cloth so he could clean me.

We fell into a sleep, wrapped around each other.

That feeling in my chest was still there.

The words stayed behind my teeth, edging to escape.

Not now, I told them. It wasn’t time….

********

I heard my phone ring. Stupid me forgot to put it on silent mode. I hurried to turn it off before it could wake up Namjoon.

I intended to reject the call—no one sane would be calling me at this hour. However, at seeing the name on my screen, I jumped out of bed, grabbed Namjoon’s shirt on the nightstand, and locked myself in the restroom.

My mother never called at this time. She was always in bed early.

“Mamá?” I asked into the phone, worried and panicked.

“Did he rape you?” her voice sounded angry and irritated.

The question threw me off. It was not what I was expecting. Plus, I had woken up from two hours of sleep. “What?” I asked.

“Did he rape you?” she asked, her voice louder as she enunciated her words.

“What are you talking about?”

“I finally got to what happened two years ago with you. It took a lot of digging and threatening a lot of past interns and secretaries if they didn’t spill, but I got to the bottom of it." She was out of breath and angry. It was tough following her. "I know you met with Chad alone around the time your contract was getting close to expiring. I know he was supposed to be there with another executive but that other executive never made it to the meeting. You were supposed to be there with Ky but Yori went into early labor and he missed the meeting.” My mother was talking so fast, I could barely make out her words. However, I understood what she was saying; what she had discovered.

My mother didn’t think highly of herself academically speaking. She thought I didn’t think highly of her intelligence, but that was far from the truth. I had always been aware of my mother’s intelligence. She was clever and resourceful. She didn’t get to where she was now without having a brain like hers. I knew it was only a matter of time before she figured out who had been the executive who had assaulted me.

“Apparently, the female assistants in the company have stories of Chad being handsy with some of them. There have been some accusations that he has even raped a couple of them. The higher-ups, of course, have managed to cover it up, but that hasn’t stopped the women from sharing suspicion. Chad’s secretary at the time says you went into the meeting alone. She didn’t know about the rumors circulating Chad at the time since she was fairly new. She said you were fine when you went into the room, but less than an hour later, you came out looking disheveled. She thought you guys had finished having sex and coughed it up to you just being an easy lay. Your makeup was a mess. Your top was open. Your hair—”

****The top button popped off. His hand reached down. Took a grab. As if it was nothing. As if he had done this multiple times. As if it belonged to him.

He squeezed and I felt my skin crawl.

I wanted to reach over and push him off.

I wanted to get up. Run. Yell. Scream. Punch him.

I tried to remember the boxing moves my brothers and cousins and uncle had taught me.

But everything was blank.

I was glued onto the chair. I was frozen into place.

One of his hands was inside my bra and the other was on my hair.

Slobber stuck onto my cheeks and lips. It was like a frog was on me.

MOVE! I yelled internally at myself, but I didn’t listen. Why the fuck wasn’t I listening?!****

“Stop!” I screamed at my mother. I had already gone over these details in therapy. I had learned how to move past it. Or so I thought. Since coming back to LA, I was starting to question whether or not I had fully healed. The last session I had with Dr. Rob was over a year ago and I had thought I was better.

Maybe I had been wrong?

“What?” My mother’s voice pulled me back to the present.

“I��don’t want to relive that,” I tell her, determined.

“I knew there was no way you would ever be caught in that kind of situation. But I had to make sure, so I called Chad. I painted out the same details to him and his reaction was all I needed to know what he did to you was not consensual.”

His words sent chills down my skin. “You talked to Chad?” The name came out of my lips and it tasted like vaseline.

“Well, what was I supposed to do?”

I felt an anger boil at my core. “Madre, I didn’t tell you so you could stick your nose where it didn’t belong. This is my issue. I’m the victim here, not you.”

“You’re my daughter—”

“Yes, I’m your daughter. So instead of thinking and acting on your emotions, think of fucking mine for a change.”

“Something has to be done about this. That asshole can’t get away with this. You have to report him.”

The thought of going to the police made me feel more uneasy. “Listen, this isn’t up for discussion. I’m hanging up.”

“We’re going to talk about it, Maya. I’ll come over to your house right now.” I was certain she meant it.

“I’m not at home, Madre. I’m over at a friend’s house.”

“I’ll be over next week, then,” she promised.

I let out a sigh and hung up on her before I fully came apart.

My hands were shaking and I was taking deep breaths to settle myself down.

How had I allowed my mother to bring me to this stage? It felt like it had just happened. Like I had just lived it. Shit, I should have never answered the phone. I should just block her from now on. Talking to her for too long makes me feel like a broken child. A weak, fragile, lost child.

I did my best to calm myself. It took a long time, but I refused to leave the bathroom until I was fully ok. I didn’t want this to ruin my last day with Namjoon. If he saw how upset I was, he would focus fully on me and wouldn’t get any sleep. And it was going to be a long trip for him. He needed to save his energy.

Finally, I came out of the restroom, feeling settled.

I found Namjoon sitting on the bed, fully awake, and his eyes on me. A look of concern was written on his face.

“Is everything ok?” he asked.

I nodded, climbing onto the bed and giving him a small smile. “Everything is ok. Just some small family drama. Nothing to worry about. Everyone’s healthy.”

His brows knitted together as he continued to look at me. “Are you sure? You don’t want to talk about it?”

“No, I just want to go to sleep,” I said, genuinely. I got under the covers.

“Do you want to talk about it in the morning, then?” he pressed.

“We have breakfast with the others in the morning. And then you have your flight pretty early,” I answered.

“So?” he sounded a little annoyed.

I tried to rationalize with him. “You need rest, Namjoon.”

He took a breath. “Ok. Will we discuss it tomorrow night then?”

“After a long day of travel and activities?” I asked, hinting I didn’t think it was a good idea.

“So, when do you think we’ll talk about it?” I quickly noted he was keeping his voice tightly controlled.

My heart quickened a bit, nerves kicking in. I strongly disliked thinking of the future. “I don’t know,” I said, my voice sounding low.

“Next month? Two months from now?” He was pushing, his eyes now digging into mine.

A feeling of intimidation came over me and made me look away. I didn’t know how to answer him. The thought of sharing with him the memory of when I never felt weaker and more worthless was unimaginable. I never wanted him to know that story.

He looked more than annoyed. “When are we going to get past this? Things with us are not new,” he said with finality. His jaw jutted forward, his chest back. He’d never been this angry with me before. “We’ve been together for 100 days. And every time I want to go further, this is what I’m met with: a wall. Also, when I bring up our progress and what our next step should be, you say the same thing: ‘It’s new. Let’s take it slow.’ How much slower are we going to take it?”

I sat there, not sure what to say that wouldn’t get him angrier at me.

“I mean, you can’t even tell the truth to your family about me,” he said.

This threw me off. Weren’t we passed the Thanksgiving incident? “I genuinely meant to tell my brothers, Namjoon,” I said as calmly as I could. “I didn’t keep you a secret from them on purpose.”

“It’s not just your brothers. What about your parents?” he challenged. “Seems like you have no interest in telling them. I heard you talking to your mom.”

Blood drained from me. Fuck. What had he heard?

“You told her you were at a friend’s house. Not boyfriend, but a friend’s.”

I was slightly relieved by this. It meant the worse he heard had been my mislabeling of him to my mother rather than discussing my sexual assault. I tried to keep my voice calm as I tried to explain myself to him. “Not everyone has an amazing relationship with their parents like you do, Namjoon. Some parents are fucked up.”

“I know you don’t have a great relationship with her, but why lie to me about it? You’re still holding back in telling me the whole truth about your relationship with your mom,” he rambled.

“What?” I asked, caught off guard. “I’ve told you everything there is to say about her. About both my parents. Do you want explicit details of the fights I heard? Of the violence I witnessed?”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. There’s something else—something more when it comes to your mother. You left Los Angeles for a reason—it wasn’t just because of your ex. Something happened and you don’t want to tell me. I heard you discussing Chad. You got upset at your mom for talking about him. Chad was one of the executives at your label, I remember. What’s going on with him?” he asked in a demanding tone.

He had said his name. And he was upset with me. My anxiety was not faring well as I felt my palms start getting clammy. My heart rate accelerated.

I decided to go with some honesty. “You’re my best friend, Namjoon. I tell you almost everything. I’ve told you about my issues with my mother.”

The melty, cocoa eyes that made me feel alive so many times were now digging into me and making me feel pathetically small. “You haven’t told me everything. You’re keeping things from me. Including the real reason why you left. I thought eventually you would open up to me. As a friend, I accepted you keeping that secret. But we’re not just friends anymore. I want more. I need more.”

I didn’t know how to respond.

Almost like a sudden switch flipped, his eyes lost all the hardness in them. “Why are you keeping it from me? Do you not trust me?” he asked with a voice of genuine hurt.

Guilt began to make its way through me. “Of course I do!”

“Then what is it? Why can’t you take that step with me—open up?” his voice was edging towards desperation. “Our feelings are past taking things slow. I know you know it. This is when things have to leap forward. There is no backward; there is no freezing time.”

I tried to control my breathing and shaking. After a moment, I said, “I feel if we don’t take it slow, then we’re bound to make a mistake.”

His eyes lost their softness. Their sharpness came back. His chest huffed forward as if my pulled by my words. “Boundto?”

I was puzzled at his reaction and didn’t quickly respond.

“As in, you know it’s not going to work out? You don’t have hope for us?” There was a mixture of hurt and anger in his voice.

I regretted my use of words. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then, what did you mean?” he demanded.

I took a breath, trying to think quickly of what I could say to make this better. “Every other relationship I’ve been on has ended badly. And I think it’s because I rush things. I can’t do that with you. I feel if we take things slow—if we take our time in getting completely serious, then we have a higher likelihood of being successful.”

His jaw clenched. He let out an exasperated breath as his dark eyes looked down at me with puzzlement and frustration. “You let me—” he stopped himself, looking as if he was inwardly reasoning with himself. He closed his eyes, shook his head, and turned away from me.

Something clawed at my heart seeing him like this. My words were driving him to such anger and I don’t know what it was that I had just said that made him look like he wanted to punch a wall.

“What?” I asked, my voice small but determined. As much as I feared to know the answer, I still wanted to know. When it came to Namjoon, I always wanted to know.

He didn’t speak, just kept his eyes away from me.

It felt like a knife was now pushing its way into the organ that kept the blood flowing through my veins. “What?” What had I done to cause him such disturbance?

He shook his head, taking some steps away from me. He walked towards the door. To get away from me.

My body jerked forward, acting on its own. “Don’t.”

I didn’t scream it out, but my voice wasn’t small either. It was said in a tone I had never made before. And it was enough to make him stop. His body instinctively turned back to mine, his eyes looking concerned at my tone.

“Don’t,” I repeated with the same voice.

He didn’t leave, but he didn’t walk back to me either. He was thinking—debating with himself. He was trying to figure out how to work through this. I did my best to wait patiently, despite how desperately I wanted to start groveling.

Please. Please. Please. Seeing his back towards me cracked something in me. If he left…I don't know what would become of me.

Finally, he took in a breath and looked straight at me. “Why are you with me, Maya?”

What kind of question was that? “What?”

“Why are you with me? Why do you want to be with me?”

Was he serious? “Because I like you.”

“But what is it about me that makes you want me as a boyfriend?” he challenged.

Did this have to do with his self-loathing? Is that what this was stemming from? Was Namjoon having an episode again—how had I missed it? “You’re kind and funny and smart,” I said in a rush, needing him to know that he was completely valuable. If he needed reassurance to crush his self-hatred, I would give it to him.

But Namjoon didn’t look moved. “Seokjin is all those things. Why not be with him?”

Honestly, it felt like I was experiencing whiplash. “What?”

“What makes me boyfriend material for you?”

“Namjoon, I don’t know where this is coming from—”

“Is it my friendship?”

“Yes.”

“You can have that with Hoseok. Do you like how you can relate to me musically?”

“Yes.”

“You can have that with Yoongi.”

“Namjoon, will you—”

“Are you with me only for sex?" His voice was full of hurt and pain. His eyes were wet and red with agony. "Because I’m a good lay?”

This left me at a loss for words.

It took a moment for him to speak again, still keeping full control of his tone. “What we just did is not something I’ve done many times. Certainly not with someone I’m just casually seeing. It’s a carnal act that I treasure. An act I don’t take lightly. I’ve had a couple of one-night stands, and they weren’t for me. I told you this. I’m no prude, but I don’t do certain things in the bedroom that are that intimate with just anyone. You’ve told me how open you are with past guys—whether it be one-night stands or serious relationships. You’ve given it up easily before, whatever. But I’m not that way. I can’t detach emotions from sex. And the fact that you don’t feel strongly for me and you did that with me…. I just don’t know how to feel about that.”

It felt like a knife was being injected into me. In so many words, he was telling me what he thought of me: I gave it up easily. I had let him take me up the ass without the emotion of love attached. I could think of the perfect word of what he thought I was….

“We started this wrong,” he said, further pushing the knife into me. “Sex should have come much later and I knew that. But like a fucking horndog, I gave in.”

I could throw up right now.

Tears began to make their way out of his eyes. “I can’t do this, Maya. I can’t be in a relationship where it’s just about sex. I want more. And I can’t even say we can go back to being friends because I can’t. I can’t and won’t go back to that. I respect myself too much.” He sniffed, his head low.

And he walked out.

The door closed with a soft click.

I was left alone with his words floating in the air.

He respected himself….

Himself.

He didn’t say he respected me.

A slut.

I could feel my anxiety tipping over the edge. I needed to get out of here quickly.

Stumbling out of the bed, I took off his shirt, putting on my spaghetti strap and bottoms. I had no idea where my second top had landed. I hurried to find my keys and got the hell out of there. I couldn’t find my shoes fast enough for my liking, so I left barefoot.

I looked like a whore who had just been fucked and used, walking down the halls barefoot and with only my skirt and spaghetti strap on. Tears had smeared all of my makeup. I looked like a goddamn wreck. My shoes and undergarments had been left behind. Security both gawked at me and looked away in shame.

The scene I was in was similar to two and a half years ago….

I felt nothing but humiliation. The sobs came fully down the moment the elevator doors closed.

__________________

Last note: Sorry that weekly posting is ending on this scene. I wish it had been a much happier one. 😖

Also, Happy Holidays, everyone. Be sure to look after your health during this time; be happy and merry. And if you have a mother like Maya or your family has similar toxic traits, do yourself a favor and cut them off. You deserve better. 🥰

___________

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

MASTERLIST

[seitmai]

“I’m so fucking glad I installed those cameras last week when you were at Pilates,” Chad chuckles darkly as you drop the suitcase, backing away in terror.

I literally feel sick 🤢

She stands and gently wraps you in a hug, letting you cry for the next few minutes. She hands you a tissue before taking one for herself.

🥺🥺🥺

“Here’s your discharge papers,” Dr. Akins hands you the stapled stack after they leave, “and a little something from a few of the doctors here. We haven’t forgotten you, Shae.”

So glad she has people in her corner 🥹

“Shae!” He cries when he reaches you, placing his hands on your shoulders, afraid to hurt you, “oh your beautiful eye,” he whispers, tears filling his eyes as he scans your face. “I happened to see him come home, and I knew he wasn’t happy the way he slammed his car door. I’m sorry I called 911, but I heard you yell and then a crash.”

Ed 😭🥰

“Come inside,” Ed asks when you finally relax, “Just for a minute. I’ve got a slice of apple pie with your name on it. You’ve gotten too thin.”

Apple Pie to sweeten the mood 🫶🏻

“It was Jean’s idea,” he smiles sadly, “she knew you’d get out someday and we both wanted you to have a cushion.” “Ed,” your voice breaks and you start to cry again. Your head was pounding, your ribs screamed with every breath and you were getting more anxious as more time passed. “Take it and use it,” he says, putting his hand in his pocket so you can’t hand it back, “hire a lawyer, get that dog you always wanted, take a nice vacation, whatever you want, honey. Besides, he can’t track cash like he can a card.”

😭😭😭

All these people taking care of her 🫶🏻

Your lip still quirks in satisfaction when the wheels of your suitcase drag the sharp pieces of glass over the floor, scratching the hell out of the hardwood he loves.

The way I would have dragged it back and forth a few times more to leave some extra scratches lol

So you had taken a few weeks to find an apartment and hit the beach while you healed; physically at least.

Spending time at the beach is good for the soul

“I’ll take him,” you hear yourself saying as you pull out your wallet and pull out all the cash you have in your wallet; around $500. She begins to refuse but you insist, “Please. I know the vet wasn’t cheap, and your daughter will need help getting back on her feet.” Tears fill her eyes but she eventually nods, “Thank you.”

🥺🥺🥺

The rising tension inside you falls when she gives you a choice.

Such a small thing but can be so impactful for some people

Hank lays down beside you, setting his head in your lap as he senses your distress. “You’re such a good boy,” you whisper, stroking his soft fur.

Hank🫶🏻🥰

“They can come too,” you say, more anxiety setting in as you look at the clock, “if they want to, I mean. I…I think I need all the help I can get. I’ve got to be out in about an hour.” “Okay,” she says, murmuring something before coming back on the line, “they’re happy to help, Shae. Text me the address, we’re getting in the truck now.”

She deserves all the help

A Little Bit Stronger

Part 1

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x OFC/You

Summary:

Fear is the only thing Shae Williams feels after years of abuse at the hands of her ex-husband. After an encounter where he nearly takes her life, she’s finally free of him…until he finds out where she’s staying. Fear forces her to take the help of the only person who’s offered and is introduced to Bradley Bradshaw in the process.

The last thing Shae needs right now is a relationship and the fact that Bradley understands and respects her wishes makes him that much harder to resist.

Warnings: Just like everything else / write/post: this story is for 18+ only. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. It will contain smut, adult themes, situations and language. Please also note this story may be triggering due to the topic of domestic abuse (physical, emotional, sexual) violence-feel free to message me with any questions before reading.

*This is the Bradley from All of Me (Jake and Reese’s story). You should be able to be read as a stand-alone but it doesn’t hurt to start there.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

2 months prior.

“Why don’t you stay here for a few minutes,” Chad sneers, pushing his seed back inside you that’s beginning to leak out. He’s not gentle; it hurts, causing tears to prick at your eyes, but you refuse to wince, “give my swimmers a few extra minutes to find that egg,” he laughs.

They won’t. The Depo injection you got a few weeks ago at Planned Parenthood after Chad had found your hidden birth control pills will prevent that. It would be a cold day in hell before you brought an innocent child into this mess. The bruises from that beating were nearly healed now.

“Okay,” you reply, cold and numb.

“Dinner reservations are at tonight 6, so I’ll be here at 5:30 to pick you up,” Chad says from the bathroom as he starts the shower, “wear that black dress with the low back I like.”

“I will,” you lie.

If all goes to plan, you’ll be a few hours away by then, where he can’t find you.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You get up as soon as he leaves, wanting nothing more than to get out of this hellhole but needing to wash the evidence of his abuse off of your body.

Your heart is pounding as you pull your suitcases out from the bottom of your closet, already packed and ready to go. Your sweaty hands tremble, barely able to pick up your last-minute supplies to toss them in a tote.

You lift the mattress and reach under where you made a slit, locating the cash you’ve been hiding there and pulling it out before packing it too.

With that cash and the money you transferred into a secret account when you had been working, you should be set until you find a job.

You set your phone on the kitchen table and take a slow, deep breath before walking towards the door.

The handle turns as you reach out to open it; your stomach does too.

“I’m so fucking glad I installed those cameras last week when you were at Pilates,” Chad chuckles darkly as you drop the suitcase, backing away in terror.

He grabs your ponytail when you turn to run, and you cry out loudly at the burning pain in your scalp as he yanks you back. “You’re not going anywhere. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever,” he seethes in your ear. Your stomach rolls in disgust as you can feel him hard against your ass; he’s getting off on this. “You belong to me.”

He pushes you into the table by the door, causing the flower vase atop it to fall and shatter.

“Stupid, ungrateful bitch,” he seethes, stepping over the mess before kicking your hunched form in the ribs, stealing the breath in your lungs from the sharp, searing pain as you land on the hardwood.

It only takes two steps before he’s on you again, gripping your shoulder and turning you to face him. His eyes are full of rage, his pupils dilated from the line he snorted in the car as he spits, “I thought you’d finally learned after the birth control incident. I should’ve known…”

Your head whips to the side and you taste blood when he backhands you, splitting your lip.

You can’t catch your bearings as you try to appease him with an apology; pain radiating from your cheek and there’s a deafening, high-pitched ringing in your ears, “I’m sorry Chad, let me explain-“

Pain explodes in the left side of your face a second later as he punches you as hard as he can before the world goes dark.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Shae?” says a familiar voice, sounding so far away. “Shae, honey, wake up.”

Your right eye slowly blinks open to the bright fluorescent lights; the left is swollen shut and pulsing painfully. The beeping of the heart monitor increases and the pain in your ribs makes itself known as everything comes rushing back.

The police officers arriving, the EMTs putting you on the stretcher, the chilling look in his eyes as you were rolled past, the favorite doctor you worked for giving you a sedative when you arrived in her ER panicking.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Dr. Akins murmurs, putting her hand on yours, “he’s not here, he can’t hurt you.”

You slowly nod. “Where,” you croak, tongue feeling like sandpaper, “where is he?”

“Sitting in jail,” she replies.

“But-“

“For 24 hours,” she assures you, “even with his connections, he won’t be getting out early.”

You nod, still a little dazed and disoriented as you take a drink of the water she offers. “Thank you.”

“He’s why you quit, huh?” Dr. Akins asks. Not judging, just observant.

You nod again.

“What happened? Today I mean,” she clarifies.

“I was leaving,” you whisper, wincing when you look down from the pain in your eye from the movement. “He came home.”

“How did he know? Did you tell anyone?” She asks gently.

“No,” you reply, “not a soul. He said something about installing cameras last week.”

“That’s not legal in the state of California, Shae,” she says softly, stroking her thumb over your hand, “neither is beating your wife half to death.”

You nod once again, gasping from the pain in your ribs when you sit up, “I’ve gotta get out of here before he’s released.”

“Where will you go?” She asks.

“I’m going to rent an Airbnb in San Diego,” you wince as you try to smile, quickly reminded of the split in your lip, “My parents met there when my dad was in the Navy. I visited after college and fell in love. It was the first place that came to mind the…” you trail off.

“The what?”

“The last time this happened,” you whisper, “he found out I was secretly taking birth control since we started trying for a baby…he thought being a family man would help him get a promotion at work…as if that canceled out the alcoholism, drug use, and anger problems.”

“Oh Shae,” she replies. Your eyes fill as you look away when you hear the tears heavy in her voice.

She stands and gently wraps you in a hug, letting you cry for the next few minutes. She hands you a tissue before taking one for herself.

“So…you’ve got an orbital fracture that thankfully doesn’t need surgery, no concussion but you’re gonna have a helluva headache, 3 broken ribs, a split lip, and a few other bumps and bruises,” she says finally, not sugar coating it.

You close your eyes, knowing they’ll want to keep you overnight for another observation.

“There’s two officers from Sacramento PD waiting to talk with you,” she continues, “but I’ll get you discharged when they’re done. As a nurse, I trust you know what signs and symptoms to watch for?”

You open your eyes and nod, “Thank you.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You’re tight-lipped during the conversation with the officers with the entire police department in Chad’s back pocket.

You do ask for a restraining order, knowing it’s just a piece of paper, but it gives you a little peace of mind. You don’t press any further charges either; nothing will come of the ones already existing and you refuse to add fuel to his fire.

“Here’s your discharge papers,” Dr. Akins hands you the stapled stack after they leave, “and a little something from a few of the doctors here. We haven’t forgotten you, Shae.”

“Dr. Akins, you-“ you start but she interrupts.

“Just be safe, okay? My number is in there too, please let me know when you’re settled.”

“Okay,” you whisper, ignoring the shooting pain in your ribs as you pull her in for a final hug, “thank you.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You try not to, but you can’t help but cry when you open the envelope in the Uber that Dr. Akins ordered. A letters of recommendation from her and two other doctors you worked with also, and enough bills to make you feel light-headed.

“Here’s fine,” you tell the driver when he pulls onto your street and is a few houses from yours.

You feel paranoid, but knowing Chad, he’ll check the Ring as soon as he gets released. If he sees a man brought you home, you wouldn’t put it past him to look up the license plate and have his cronies at the police station pull him over; it doesn’t matter that it’s just the man’s job.

“You sure?” He looks skeptically over his shoulder at you.

“Yeah,” you sigh when you try again to smile, tasting blood again when you open the cut in your bottom lip, “thanks.”

Ed, your sweet old neighbor, comes running when he spots you gingerly getting out of the car. “Shae!” He cries when he reaches you, placing his hands on your shoulders, afraid to hurt you, “oh your beautiful eye,” he whispers, tears filling his eyes as he scans your face. “I happened to see him come home, and I knew he wasn’t happy the way he slammed his car door. I’m sorry I called 911, but I heard you yell and then a crash.”

“It’s okay,” you begin to cry too, hating how distressed he is. You’d had quickly befriended him and his wife, Jean, when you moved in. They reminded you so much of your late parents and that’s exactly why Chad put an end to the relationship. “I’m glad you did, Ed.”

“I’m so sorry about Jean,” you continue, guilt overwhelming you. “I wanted to go to the funeral so badly.”

She had passed away nearly a year ago from cancer. You earned a slap across the face when you asked Chad to go to her funeral.

“It’s okay, honey. She knew you loved her and she loved you too,” he replies, pulling you in for the most gentle, tender hug.

The gesture breaks the dam inside you and you begin to sob; body-shaking, from-the-soul sobs.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Come inside,” Ed asks when you finally relax, “Just for a minute. I’ve got a slice of apple pie with your name on it. You’ve gotten too thin.”

“Okay,” you whisper, letting him take your hand.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Do you have my number in your new phone?” Ed asks by his front door after he feeds you not one, but two pieces of his homemade pie. It was your favorite and yet another thing Chad didn’t let you have.

You insist Ed stays home while you get your suitcases, not knowing the whereabouts of Chad’s cameras. The last thing you want is someone else getting hurt, especially Ed.

You nod, “It was the first number I put it, I still have it memorized. Promise you’ll come to see me when things settle?”

If they ever settle. Your heart sinks with the thought that this mess will never stop; not until he’s in prison or one of you ends up dead.

“I will,” he kisses your forehead, and hands you an envelope from his pocket, “here honey, take this.”

“Ed, no. I can’t,” you argue, eyes widening as you feel the wad of cash inside, “Really, I’ll be okay. I’ve been planning this for a while.”

“It was Jean’s idea,” he smiles sadly, “she knew you’d get out someday and we both wanted you to have a cushion.”

“Ed,” your voice breaks and you start to cry again. Your head was pounding, your ribs screamed with every breath and you were getting more anxious as more time passed.

“Take it and use it,” he says, putting his hand in his pocket so you can’t hand it back, “hire a lawyer, get that dog you always wanted, take a nice vacation, whatever you want, honey. Besides, he can’t track cash like he can a card.”

That thought crossed your mind too before you finally nod. “Thank you,” you whisper, giving him a final hug and heading back to your former home.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You step over the drips of your blood and avoid the dead flowers and broken glass, feeling nauseous from anxiety and the pain pulsing through your body when you pick up your discarded bag and right your suitcases.

Your lip still quirks in satisfaction when the wheels of your suitcase drag the sharp pieces of glass over the floor, scratching the hell out of the hardwood he loves.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Ed watches from his front door as you struggle to get your suitcases in the back, but you discreetly shake your head when he opens the door to help. Chad is going to take his anger out somewhere, and you don’t want to make Ed more of a target.

You suppress your groan as you lift the floorboard in the trunk to find your secret cell phone hidden by the spare tire and turn it on after plugging it in while you fasten your seatbelt.

After typing in the address into GPS, you take a deep breath and pull out of the driveway, waving goodbye to Ed and starting your new life.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A few weeks later (current day).

“Friday at 11,” you confirm, “I’ll be there, thank you again,” you say before hanging up with the recruiter.

You smile softly; things are looking up. You have an interview scheduled for a nursing position with a general practitioner at the Naval Base, you secured a nice apartment that’ll be ready to move into in a few weeks and Chad would be served with divorce papers any day now.

With the money you saved, the generous gift from the doctors you worked with at the ER, and the downright obscene amount from Ed and Jean, you didn’t need to rush into finding a job. So you had taken a few weeks to find an apartment and hit the beach while you healed; physically at least.

Emotionally though, you were struggling. Most nights you woke up soaked in a cold sweat, shivering in terror from your nightmares. Loud noises made you flinch. You were constantly having to remind yourself that it’s okay to go out and do what you want.

Dr. Akins checked in with you twice after letting her know you arrived. Ed texted or called almost daily; it was so nice to be able to talk to him freely.

You decide to walk a few blocks to the hole-in-the-wall restaurant you discovered on your first week here for dinner.

Taking a different way back, you come across a large, brown, and white dog tied outside a clothing shop.

The sign in the window above him reads, ‘Dog is for sale. Inquire within’.

His big, fluffy tail begins to wag when he realizes you’re approaching him and he lifts his head when you kneel, “Hi buddy.”

“Hi,” an older woman with a kind smile comes out when she sees you, “are you-“ she cuts off with a sneeze when she gets close.

“Bless you,” you smile.

“Thanks,” she sniffs, “I was trying to ask if you’re interested in him?”

“Oh,” you say, “I can’t…” you trail off as you realize there isn’t anything stopping you. The Airbnb listing said pets were welcome; same with your apartment. “Well…maybe?”

She laughs, sitting on the bench by the door, inviting you to sit beside her. “His name is Hank, he’s a 2-year-old, Great Pyrenees mix. He belonged to my daughter but…she can’t take care of him anymore; she checked herself into rehab,” she sighs sadly, “and will be for a while; she asked me to find him a good home since I’m horribly allergic and there’s too many kill shelters around here,” she answers before you can ask.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, petting his big head when he rests it on your knee, “he’s so sweet.”

“He is,” she confirms before sneezing again, “he listens well, I’ve never heard him bark and I think he’s house trained-I’ve had to keep him in the garage at my house or I can’t breathe-but he hasn’t had any accidents there. I guess he’s a little leery of men too, but she wasn’t hanging around the best crowd either. I took him to the vet-in my car which was a terrible idea, I still sneeze when I open the door,” she laughs, “but they gave him a micro-chip and updated his vaccines. He was given a clean bill of health, I have his records in the store.”

He looks up at you with those big brown eyes; staring into your soul while tugging at your heartstrings.

“I’ll take him,” you hear yourself saying as you pull out your wallet and pull out all the cash you have in your wallet; around $500. She begins to refuse but you insist, “Please. I know the vet wasn’t cheap, and your daughter will need help getting back on her feet.”

Tears fill her eyes but she eventually nods, “Thank you.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

It doesn’t take long at all for you to fall in love with Hank; his personality is as big as he is. He just had one accident the first night and hasn’t barked a single time.

“How do I look?” You ask him, spinning in front of the mirror as he watches you from his spot on your bed. Dressing up felt nice, even if it was just for a job interview.

You did your best to cover the healing yellow bruise under your eye, but it was still noticeable in certain light.

He hops off the bed and nudges your thigh with his head before looking up at you in the mirror.

“Thanks, I think so too,” you smile down at him. “I’ll be back in a little bit, you be a good boy.”

He’s asleep on the bed before you shut the door.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Hi, you must be Shae,” the pretty woman greeting smiles as she offers her hand. “I’m Reese, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” you reply.

“Please,” she gestures to the chairs across her desk as she sits, “have a seat.”

Your eyes squint when the sunlight catches your face as you sit before giving her your resume. “I also have letters of recommendation from my nursing instructor and a few of the doctors I’ve worked with,” your cheeks heat as you hand them over next.

Your stomach sinks as her gaze pauses on your concealed bruise before she scans the information given.

Your nerves settle as she asks questions and gives you different scenarios. Dr. Kerner is confident, witty and you get the impression she doesn’t take shit from anyone; which is needed when the majority of her patients are cocky men.

“Well, I’ve seen enough,” she smiles, “you can expect to from HR soon for the formal offer,” your heart soars and then sinks when her brow furrows slightly when she glances down again at her resume, “Oh, is this current?”

Your nerves come back full force and your hands twist nervously in your lap, “Yes, it’s current.”

“It’s okay,” she replies softly, picking up on your anxiety, “HR will ask why it's been 2 years since you worked last. What should I tell them?”

You feel yourself dissociate as you look out the window. “My husb-I mean, ex-husband…he didn’t want me to work.”

She nods, looking at your healing eye and piecing together where it came from. “Shae?”

You flinch slightly as you snap out of it, before meeting her eyes.

“I’m just going to tell them it was due to family reasons,” she says, watching as you sag in relief. “Are you safe though?”

“I am,” you reply, touching the slight discoloration under your eye, “I am now. He’s…a few hours away, and I have a dog now.”

“Okay,” she replies with a small smile, reaching for a pen and notepad. “Here’s my number if that changes okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, touched by her gesture. You had very few people in your corner, and they all lived hours away. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she replies, rising to her feet. “Hope to see you again soon.”

“I hope so too,” you smile genuinely for the first time.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“HR will be in touch soon,” Dr. Kerner says as she escorts you from her office, smiling down the hall. “Have a good weekend.”

“Thanks, you too,” you reply, eyes following hers to two men approaching.

The blonde gives you a friendly smile before locking eyes with Dr. Kerner. While he’s attractive, it’s evident he only has eyes for her.

The darker-haired one with a mustache is downright hot. The way he gives you a quick, appreciative once over before flashing you a grin has you blushing like a virgin.

You quickly head outside, feeling an odd mixture of emotions; unnecessary guilt for looking at another man, excitement that someone so good-looking finds you attractive, relief that you can still feel attraction, and nervousness that you might/might not see him again if you get the job.

Once inside your car, you blast the AC to cool your heated cheeks as you make your way back to your temporary home.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A few days pass before receiving the call that you have the job and you agree to start the following Monday.

You hardly sleep the night before and arrive before nearly everyone.

“Ready for your first day?” Dr. Kerner smiles when she sees you at your desk.

“I am,” you answer, “I looked over your preferences while I waited. It all looks familiar so I shouldn’t have any problem getting caught up to speed.”

“I didn’t figure you would,” she replies, “let me give you a quick tour and we’ll get the day started.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

By lunch, you’re already getting the hang of things.

“I don’t know how I’ve survived this long without you,” Dr. Kerner smiles as she checks the time, “seriously, you’re doing a great job.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, flushing as you look down at your shoes, so unused to compliments.

“You’re welcome,” she replies, “I usually have lunch in here with Jake, my boyfriend, and Rooster, an old friend of mine. They’re both naval aviators.”

“Rooster?” You ask, looking up confused.

“Ah, sorry, that’s his callsign,” she laughs, “his real name is Bradley; you can call him either. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve gotta let my dog out. I haven’t found anyone to walk him yet; I’m pretty sure he’d be fine all day but I’m staying at an Airbnb until my apartment is ready in a few weeks so I don’t want to risk any accidents,” you reply. It’s the truth, but you’re still unsure and uneasy about a lot of things.

“Understandable,” she replies, “the offer stands if and when you want to.”

“Thank you,” you reply with a smile of your own.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Some friends of mine are having a get-together for the 4th at their house on the beach,” Dr. Kerner says at the end of the first day, “you’re more than welcome to come if you’d like.”

“You don’t have to answer right now,” she continues when you clam up, “and there’s no pressure, either. You can say no.”

The rising tension inside you falls when she gives you a choice.

“I’ll think about it,” you answer truthfully, “if that’s okay?”

“Of course. There’s no rush; Penny will be plenty of food and drinks either way,” she gives you a reassuring smile as she picks up her keys. “Have a good night, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thanks,” you smile back, “you too.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

The next few weeks pass quickly and June turns to July.

You were still in the rental and hadn’t had lunch with Dr. Kerner yet, but you could feel yourself slowly opening up to her.

“See ya after lunch,” she calls as you pick up your keys to head out, “tell Hank I said hi.”

“I will,” you laugh, “be back in a bit.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Something is off when you unlock the door to the rental.

Hank, who’s normally asleep on the bed, is restlessly pacing.

“What’s up, buddy?” You ask, crouching to kiss him.

He’s distracted though, aggressively sniffing the welcome mat.

“Gotta go potty?” You ask, grabbing his leash, “Let’s go.”

He sits down right beside you when you get to the grass, sniffing the air and looking around.

“C’mon bud, go potty,” you coax.

He eventually takes a few steps to do his business but comes right back when he’s done.

“I’ll see you in a bit, okay? Be a good boy,” you murmur as you close the door while he stands there and watches, again so unlike him.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Hey,” Dr. Kerner says when you come back from lunch, looking down at her phone, “the last patient canceled, so we’ll be done early today. How was Hank?”

“Acting a little weird, but good,” you reply, brow furrowed, “he’s usually asleep when I get home, but he was up and pacing by the door. I thought he had to go potty really bad but he didn’t go without some coaxing. Who knows, probably just heard a squirrel or something.”

“Probably,” she agrees, her tone giving away that it doesn’t sit right with her.

It doesn’t sit right with you either.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

After saying goodbye to Dr. Kerner, you head home a few hours later.

Hank is again, or still, by the door.

You order food to be delivered while he eats his, sitting down on the couch with a beer while you wait.

You mull it over in your head before pulling your phone out to compose a text.

Shae: Hey Dr. Kerner, I’ve thought it over. I’d be happy to join you tomorrow if the offer still stands.

But there’s a knock at the door before you send it.

You rise to your feet, Hank gets up too, surprising you as he growls in your presence for the first time.

“It’s okay, just the delivery driver,” you coo before calling, “just a minute,” as you grab some cash for a tip.

“Wow, that was fast-“ you start to say as you open the door, but your head whips to the side. You hear the sharp slap to your cheek and eye before the pain can register.

The force of his backhand knocks you back a step and Chad follows you, gripping your arm so tightly you cry out in pain. He’s full of rage, his breath reeks of bourbon as spits in your face, “You think you can divorce me?! After everything I’ve done for-FUCK!”

Chad screams when Hank latches onto his clothed arm with a low growl. The force of his lunge pushes Chad back into the doorframe but you grab Hank’s collar to haul him off before he sinks his teeth into something more vital.

“Leave,” you say, voice shaking and barely audible over Hank’s snarls, “now.”

“This isn’t over,” he says, holding his arm as he takes taking a step back, “and that dog is dead.”

You slam the door closed behind him, locking it before falling to the floor with a sob.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Hank lays down beside you, setting his head in your lap as he senses your distress. “You’re such a good boy,” you whisper, stroking his soft fur.

But he starts to growl again a few minutes later when a loud knock startles you both.

“San Diego PD, open up.”

You hold Hank’s collar as you crack the door to verify. “Just a minute, I’m going to put my dog in the bedroom; he’s a little worked up.”

The host of the AirBnb shows up shortly after, holding the bag of your forgotten food.

Adrenaline wearing off, your face begins to throb in time with his fingerprints on your arm as you explain what happened to the officers. You feel numb as they take pictures of your injuries, but you don’t hold much hope when the officers say they’ll find him.

The Airbnb host gives you more bad news before leaving too.

You try to compose yourself as you start to pack but hopelessness of the situation begins to set in, and you feel suddenly feel completely overwhelmed. Your thoughts begin to race before you pick up the phone; feeling as if you have no other choice but to turn to the only person that might help.

Your heart races as the line rings.

“Shae?” she answers, “what’s up?”

There’s faint music in the background.

“Hi Dr. Kerner,” you say, trying to sound calm, “I’m so sorry to bother you.”

“Please, call me Reese,” she reminds you gently, “you’re not bothering me. Is everything okay?”

“No,” your voice breaks, “it’s not. Chad…my ex, he found me.”

“Where are you? Is he there now?” She asks, anxious now.

“No, he took off when Hank bit him,” you sniff, zipping one of your packed suitcases closed, “I’m still at the Airbnb, packing my stuff.”

“Okay,” she sighs, her relief evident until your last words sink in, “Okay. Packing your-wait, why are you packing?”

“The police came a few minutes after he left; one of the units heard the commotion. The unit owner came while I was giving my statement,” You answer, walking down the short hallway to the living room, “I guess the other tenants complained to him and are scared-understandably so-but said I needed to be out…tonight.”

“Oh Shae,” she says, “I’m so sorry. Let me come help you?”

“Okay.” Both of you are surprised when you agree.

“I’m at the Hard Deck-which is a bar-with Jake and Bradley. Oh shoot, I forgot we rode together. Hang one sec,” she pauses, “I’ll order an Uber.”

“They can come too,” you say, more anxiety setting in as you look at the clock, “if they want to, I mean. I…I think I need all the help I can get. I’ve got to be out in about an hour.”

“Okay,” she says, murmuring something before coming back on the line, “they’re happy to help, Shae. Text me the address, we’re getting in the truck now.”

“I will, oh…” you cringe when you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror above the couch. Your right eye is bloodshot from the trauma, below on your cheek is puffy and still red, and his fingerprints already purpling your arm. It’s nothing compared to last time, but it’s still startling, “and Reese? I should warn you, I look…rough.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A/N: Well…what do you guys think? Did everything make sense (especially for those who haven’t read All of Me).

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs! Seriously, feedback helps me more than you know.

Please let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) my taglist…and if I forgot to add you-it wasn’t intentional, just let me know!

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[mlmxreader]

Hiya!

Sorry I haven't been around much. Life's not been too bad. School has been a bit busy. Feeling stressed but at the same time super excited because it's just that much closer to my goal of getting into the profession I want and I just wanna get to the helping people part. Made a new friend, which is nice, feels a little less daunting when you have someone who's also going through the same stuff.

But the main reason I dropped by is because I saw that you weren't feeling all to well and I wanted to let you know that I'm thinking about you and hoping things get better. It's a shit thing when you aren't feeling great but the isolation can sometimes be worse. I hope you feel better, my friend. Sending you all the love and light 🖤🖤!!

And NEVER feel the need to apologize for not being able to write requests. You, like the people sending the requests, are a person with your own life, feelings, struggles, etc. And I hope the people sending you asks in requests can understand that and exercise some compassion. (Remember, I am your friend and I would die for you in a heartbeat. If someone says shit, they can eat shit. [As in, I'll fight 'em if you need me to.])

On a lighter note THE BABIES!!! AH!! Seeing pictures of them show up on my feed always puts a smile on my face. So bloody cute they are. Also, super psyched for you and your new tattoo. I'm sure it's gonna look awesome👌🏽!

Alright, gotta go. I'll try to drop in more often just to say hi and catch up and stuff but even if there's silence from me for a bit, just know that I genuinely care for you, dude. Seriously, you are not only my treasured writer but someone I consider a friend. I found your blog and stories when I was feeling super out of sorts and reading your works on Alfie really helped me feel less lonely. Even more so when I started talking to you through asks where we could go feral over the man together and it was so 🥰 because honestly, I haven't felt like that with many people, to the point that I thought I never would. I really do hope you feel better, that you find small moments of respite in your day that put a smile on your face or even just make you feel a little bit lighter. But I know that's not always possible and that's okay too. You're allowed to feel what you feel and how you feel 🖤. Always sending you all the love, my dear friend, stay safe and I'll talk to you soon.

🖤🖤🖤

🐍anon

hi!!!!!! good evening!!!!! as always, I hope your uni is going well and it's not been too mentally taxing - but please ensure you're taking frequent breaks when you're studying and working!!!

its absolutely okay!!! I can wait lmao but I'm glad things aren't too bad. i get that! it was the same for me in college tbh, 4 years of it, you learn to eventually adjust to the chaos and hectic nature of things in your own way - so don't worry too much, you'll eventually settle! I'm so glad to hear you made a new friend!!! that's awesome!!! and it can absolutely help to have one or two people who you can really talk to about it tbh - I'm still friends w a few of the girls I met in college, and we talk regularly!

yeah, I'll be honest, it's mostly fandoms that are, like, larger tbh; like, Call Of Duty, Band Of Brothers, rdr2, etc. and it kinda sucks and it's kinda why I try and distance myself from those fandoms as much as I can (mutuals & friends being the exception, ofc), bc I just... like idk, it is really isolating, but it also brings out the festering things like self doubt - bc I see people interacting w other writers in the same places and I'm a bit like "oh. I'm not good enough, then.", which tbh, is bullshit. ofc I'm good enough. I'm a good writer lmfao but, yk, it's not good to feel like that, so then I start feeling less motivated and less inspired to actually write for those fandoms in terms of requests bc I'm a bit like "well, I'm not gonna get so much as a "it was great, thanks!", so why bother?", yk? it makes me feel... not CHEAP, but like... something very similar tbh. it's not a good feeling, either way, and I'd rather NOT engage w it and would rather focus my efforts elsewhere - like on fics I've currently got on the go, like Once We Were Close & Where You Belong (Next To Me), as well as requests that I actually DO feel motivated and inspired to write - even if it's just 100 words instead of 1000.

and thank you; sometimes I feel a little bit pressured to take requests that I don't want to bc either I don't feel motivated or bc I feel like it's a demand as opposed to a... request. but that's always come from other people, never you. it's hard, but yk, I'll get over it lmfao I always do. (and yes, 100% we're friends. I'd die for you, as I've said to others many, many, many times, admittedly dbvlykvkskg I would lay down my life and protect you at all costs 🫶🏻)

THE BABIES!!!!!! my 5 boys and my 1 girl which technically does mean I'm a #girldad lmao (nobody tell Gallipoli she's a python, she's my little girl, she's my baby!). Hanzo is the only actual baby I've got left tho, bc he's >1 month old 😭 the rest are all grown up :( even though I could've sworn it was yesterday that Red Baron could fit into the palm of my hand and still have room, I could've sworn just yesterday he was DEFINITELY NOT 118.8cm and 1400g. he just... got so big all of a sudden??? like, Spotify play Sunrise, Sunset from Fiddler On the Roof bc I'm GOING THROUGH IT.

but anyway, yeah, little baby Hanzo:

takes after his daddy bc he's got a fiery (pun intended) temperament like I do 🥺🥰 plus: bc I already HAVE a scorpion tattoo, I don't ever need to get one for him lmao (although I do toy w the idea of getting one of Hanzo Hasashi from MK when I'm financially stable...)

please, feel free to pop by whenever you want - if this were a house, you'd have the fucking key by now 💀 just let yourself in whenever, my dude, you're more than welcome! but thank you, I'm honoured and incredibly grateful 🫶🏻

I'm glad that my fics have made you feel less lonely, especially in a time and society like today's where loneliness seems to only grow - I'm glad it made a difference 🫶🏻

DJGKDK YES!!! I'M ALWAYS DOWN TO GO FERAL!!!! ALWAYS!!!!! but I'm so glad you found safety here, really 🫶🏻🫶🏻 I love you. we may not share blood, but that matters very little.

and thank you 🫶🏻🫶🏻 it means a lot 🫶🏻

sending the love right back at you more than reciprocated, my beloved friend!!! we'll talk soon 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[writingzen]

FOUR EYES ♡‧ ⁺彡

✧ Summary: you absolutely hated Choi Yeonjun. Which of course doesn’t bother him cause he hates you just as much, but recently things have started to change. You were starting to like the feeling of yeonjun being by your side and even started taking up on his going out to eat together offers. Literally yesterday you both were arguing with each other about who’s smarter but now here you guys are arguing alongside eachother and he doesn’t even know why.

✧ Info: academic college rivals with yeonjun. (Rivals to lowkey friends stage, might be crushing) The reader wears glasses.

✧ Warning: mentions of drinking, a four eyes joke (I also wear glasses 🙃) cursing, and the reader is pretty stubborn. If you find more please let me know.

✧ A/N: Hey guys!!! I know, it’s been a long minute, but I honestly didn’t really have the energy to write. I have been going through a lot recently, but things are started to be okay. So, I decided to write this. Sorry if there are any errors in it. I truly hope you enjoy it and if you have any requests or want a part two. Please tell me! Thank you and have a great day my loves!! 🥰

You don’t know what to even think of him at this point. Just yesterday you both were getting at eachothers necks, answering every question you could before him, but now here you are, arguing with the manager of the restaurant with yeonjun right by your side. He didn’t even question you much before he started yelling, again, only knowing very little about the situation. I mean he did just come out the restroom to hear your voice loudly yelling at some man.

“Why is it so expensive?! It’s just tteokbeoki” you yelled back at the manager of the restaurant.

Though you were yelling with every nerve in your body, you do have to admit. It was stupid. You truly have no clue why you were arguing about something so small in the first place. It’s just everything has truly been upsetting you lately and you’ve even started having these weird feelings in your stomach. You don’t know if it’s the low grade you got on the test last week or if it’s the fact that you were started to feel okay with yeonjun being with you 24/7 or maybe, it’s both. Either way, it’s frustrating, but not that’s that any excuse. You were finally going to calm yourself down with some tteokbeoki that yeonjun offered to buy you, just to find out the price was raised way too high. It’s was honestly absurd, why so high for something that would normally be so cheap?

“We already stated why on the windows! We are raising money to donate to charity!” He shouted back, his finger pointing at the poster that clearly stated what he just said.

Shit

You both stop in your tracks, taking a second to just stare at the poster plastered on the outside window. Your gaze fixed on the poster and nothing else, not knowing what to do or say next as embarrassment rushed through your body, your cheeks tinting a bright shade of red.

Yeonjun turned to you before whisper-yelling, feeling just as embarrassed as you.

“Why didn’t you tell me!”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words escaped, you couldn’t even build up a simple “Im sorry”, feeling way too pathetic to even be alive right now.

His body turned to face the manager, taking his attention with him, not even waiting a second longer for your response before bowing in a 90 degree angle.

“I’m really sor-“

“WHY DIDNT YOU MAKE IT MORE OBVIOUS!”

You interrupted, voice louder then when you were originally yelling, you were already too into the argument, you knew it was wrong but there’s no going back.

“Stop!” Yeonjun whisper-shouting at you before taking a hold of your wrist, pulling you away. “I am so so-stop-sorry” you continue yelling, losing any self of dignity left in you as he drags your away, arms now wrapped around your waist. “Again, I am-y/n-sorry. This will never-y/n stop-happen aga-ow-again. Thank you”

After what seemed like would be forever to just pull you out of the stupid restaurant and the embarrassing situation you both put yourselves into, you were both successfully out with many eyes still fixed on you, judgement written all over there faces and they had every reason to.

“Why the fuck did you argue about that?! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

You sighed, voice coming in a mumble “He should have made it notic-“

“Y/n!”

“You think I would have argued with him in the first place if I have seen the posters! I was just mad and I-I didn’t think it through” You admitted, arguing back, not even able to look him in the eyes, resulting to you turning to the side, gaze stick to the road.

Now it’s his turn to sigh, he didn’t want to be mad at you and if we’re really being honest he knew he could never be mad at you in the first place. Even after everything, you could honestly put him through worse and he still wouldn’t be able to be mad at you.

“Jesus. Use your four eyes for once and actually look and think before speaking” he scolded you before you feel the weight of his arm around your shoulder.

Confused at the sudden contact, you question “What are you doi-“ before you could finished your sentence, his arm then wrapped around your neck, pulling you close enough to be eye level with his stomach. A classical headlock, a move you both tended to do on eachother whenever you could, it was just who could get to who first.

He rubbed your head with his knuckles causing a slight pain, but not enough to cause serious hurt as he started walking.

“Ow! yeonjun I swear to god!” You hit at him trying to get yourself free from his torture.

“Okay okay, it’s getting late. So let’s get drinks quickly and head back. I’ll walk you to your dorm” he said finally freeing your from his grasp, but not before rubbing your head lightly as his apology.

You pushed his hand away before fixing your now messy hair. Glaring at him before speaking again “you’re paying”

“I never said I wasn’t, four eyes.” He spoke before pushing up your glasses, a grin plastered on his face as a slight chuckle escaped his lips.

You hate to admit it, but

He kind of cute

-D